#And Mick? She is... The worst /endearing

[the-halfling-prince]

wip Wednesday ? Wow.

im so excited to finish this piece.

[obscurushydrae]

Alphabet City, New York, Early 2005

“Hey! Mickey! Open up!” a voice called, banging upon the door of 4W. He used his flesh and bone hand-- otherwise the big stone hand might have taken the whole door and part of the walls given how shoddy the place was.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming!” a voice hollered on the other side. The jangling of locks unlocking was quickly followed by the door swinging open.

“Hellboy!” exclaimed the apartment's owner, Mick, in a thick Bronx accent, arms--paws-- wide in greeting. Mick was six foot rat with a keen eye for things. After a bit of misunderstanding a few years back where he stole Hellboy’s prized pistol, Mick became a some-time supplier, informant, and consultant to the BPRD.

“Come to see the new stock? I’ve got on my hands a copy of—”

“Not today.” the half demon rumbled. “Kiddo’s been missing for almost a week now, wondering if your guys might've seen her.”

Mick’s expression were limited due to his rat features, but he shifted to an equal concern. Mick’s apartment was only a few short blocks from the Aster residence. Hellboy would occasional pay for the occasional eye-- usually when he was off on a job, or when his younger sister hit puberty and suddenly decided to just slip out her window disappear on a whim-- much to everyone’s chagrin. Honestly Mick never met the kid face to face, but even he had grown to have certain fondness for her. A fuzzy guardian angel she new knew existed.

“Come in, come in.” Mick gestured to his apartment, floor to ceiling filled with things, some of it subjectively junk, some subjectively treasure. He remembered a story his sister once told him about a par of brothers who lived in Harlem. They hoarded so much, and died because of it. Or something like that.

“Ey! Denny! You seen Kiddo recently?” Denny was one of Mick’s “front facing people” humans who conducted Mick’s business in his stead. Somehow, a six foot tall talking rat didn’t exactly endear people. Denny was a bit more greyer, more clean since their first meeting.

“Sorry boss, but I think Hal spotted her not too long ago. Getting into a big black car?”

Mick turned is face to Hellboy, whiskers twitching.

“That was Father’s funeral.” Hellboy explained. “She went missing the afternoon after, according to Frankie.”

“Ah, My condolences, to the both of yous.” Mick replied, “Never met him but your old man was one of my best customers!”

There was unprompted moment of silence for the late Professor. Denny broke the silence.

“Benny should be back later…” He pointed out. “He’s out in Brooklyn. Lotta places to go underground there.”

Mick nodded thoughtfully, agreeing.

“Y’gotta cell phone, big guy?”

The flip phone was tiny even in his non-stone hand, but had been how he occasionally kept up with the Asters, and a few select others. After trading numbers, he thanked them and slipped Mick few bills for their troubles. While not the result he was hoping for, at least he had feelers out. He figured he’d walk back over to Frankie and Ava’s to check in. Nothing had changed, and he tried to not get upset at the agents delegated by Manning. Well, almost all of them.

Rook had been Kar’s liaison when she lived in headquarters full time. In reality, Rook was more or less a nanny to keep her out of the nasty stuff (not that it had stopped her from attempting it). If there was someone who could get her, it was Rook.

“Whaddya think?” Hellboy asked, taking a smoke break outside the apartment.

“Worst game of hide-and-seek we’ve played so far.” Rook teased, a nod to his days as her liaison. “It’s gonna be hard. You know how she is. If she doesn’t want to be found, she’s not gonna be found.”

Hellboy scowled at the thought. She wasn’t a kid; and this wasn’t a game. But he got it. Kar had a habit of going to ground in some part of headquarters, only appearing when she was well and ready to return to the world. A habit she seemed to keep. Normally he’d agree, and just wait it out, let her come around on her own terms, but something about it didn’t sit well in his gut. A few days, sure, but it was almost a full week.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“You don’t think—” Neither man wanted to finish the sentence.

“I try not to.” Hellboy answered, the unfinished line left unsaid. “The morgues haven’t anyone matching her-- I’m trying to stay hopeful.”

He couldn’t go back to Fairfield. Hellboy decided to join the vigil with Frankie and Ava. The comfortably sized three bedroom apartment was covered with reminders. Photographs of events, birthdays, gatherings. One in particular caught his eye. A little twelve year old Kar, tallit and yarmulke, surrounded on one side Frankie, Ava, and Ava’s parents, on the other was him, Abe, Liz, and their father, all grinning brightly. Another more recently-- they all went to dinner to celebrate her graduation from NYU.

“You mind if I look through her things one more time?” With their permission, he excused himself to Kar’s bedroom.

It was slightly smaller than her bedroom at Fairfield; but decorated similarly. The juxtaposition of Carl Sagan quotes and punk band posters, a few plastic stars and objet d’art hung from the ceiling, her aluminum bat sitting by the door. Action figures held up books on physics, engineering, history, a few comic books here and there. The bight red barrel of her robot puppet sitting above her desk. Nothing seemed out of array. A soldering iron, magnifying glass, and few tools, her brush kit wrapped in its canvas bag, a few fossil teeth. Her silver and opal magen david. The one she rarely took off.

No note. He phone was dead; left in her backpack purse decorated with the weird, green little dog guy she was fond of. The clothes she wore to the funeral hung from the chair, the bed was unmade, like she changed and went out for fresh air and decided not to come back.

He sat down onto her bed, groaning under her weight, the little plush Godzilla falling to the side of his thigh. It was dinky little toy she won a few years back. One of their last time going to Coney Island together.

He couldn’t do it. He just lost his lost his father-- he almost lost Liz in Russia. He couldn’t even bear the blow losing Kar. He numb, and furious-- Manning should have told him, he should have had one quick chance to find her before they left.

Mr. Zwicky, the rotund tuxedo cat who made his home in her bedroom window, oozed himself from his perch with a stretch, and meowed. Hellboy loved cats, and Mr. Zwicky was no exception. The cat meowed, and launched his bulk onto his lap without further ceremony.

“Hey there, Zwicky.” He caressed the cat’s head. His hand was large enough to cover even the cat’s large bulk. The low rumble of a purr gave him some comfort. He’d been around the family enough times that the cat saw him as just another lap, another source of attention (and sometimes food).

“If only you could talk, huh?” He mused, petting the cat further. The only witness they had so far, and he was just your average house cat. They fell in as much of a comfortable silence as someone could in his situation. Still a mess of emotions, but it was awfully hard to go through it with a twenty-odd pound cat in your lap.

At least, until the buzz from his cell phone broke him from his brooding. Apparently some of the rats in Brooklyn had some promising leads...

[oblivionsdream]

My list of the top ten books that I read in 2021!

*They are in no particular order as I couldn’t possibly rank them

“We all know how loving ends. But I want to fall in love with the world anyway, to let it crack me open. I want to feel what there is to feel while I am here.” The Anthropocene Reviewed by John Green-

This is the first time that a nonfiction book has ever made my list and it was just so amazing! It was introspective and thoughtful and made me cry over how beautiful humanity can be. Five out of five stars.

“But that is how a tragedy like ours or King Lear breaks your heart—by making you believe that the ending might still be happy, until the very last minute.” If We Were Villains by M.L Rio-

Completely destroyed my spirit and I fear I will never recover from the devastation but I enjoyed every minute of it. It was a perfect ode to the great bard himself- just as poetic and just as tragic.

“I don’t need you to explain to me the concept of a magical land filled with fantastic creatures that only certain special children can enter. I am acquainted with the last several centuries of popular culture. There are books. And cartoons, for the illiterate.”

In Other Lands by Sarah Rees Brennan- This book is a hug and a sunny day. I don’t think I ever stopped smiling while reading. Endearing characters and friendships, so much humor and I LOVED how it poked fun at common fantasy tropes. Elliot is such a unique MC and I adore him.

“Just as it is in Malibu’s nature to burn, so was it in one particular person’s nature to set fire and walk away.” Malibu Rising by Taylor Reid Jenkins-

This book took me completely by surprise. It touched my heart in a way I didn’t expect. I’ve always been such a sucker for stories with deep family bonds especially between siblings and I loved the relationships between them. Though I hate Mick Riva so much

“My name is Rune Saint John. I am, before anything else, a survivor:” The Tarot Sequence by K.D Edwards-

I already knew I was going to love this series the moment I heard it was based off tarot and featured urban fantasy (my favorite genre). But I didn’t realize how much. So much sass and sarcasm that it should be spilling off the pages, amazing characters, top tier found family trope, action, angst, it pretty much has everything.

“I thought I cannot bear this world a moment longer.”

“Then, child, make another.” -Circe by Madeline Miller

Given how much I loved TSOA (and Greek mythology in general) I’m ashamed of how long it took me to read this book. It absolutely blew me away. It was lyrical and rich and powerful. It showed the gods in all of their mercurial cruelty and Circe was such a well written character. She was flawed, but found her own strength and tried for redemption. (I also totally didn’t get teary eyed at the mention of Achilles and Patroclus)

“You’ve been living a dream long enough. Welcome to your nightmare!” -Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao

The book was wild and feral and I LOVED it. I deeply appreciated a female MC being unapologetically her worst self and I need to see more of that. Plus the poly rep!! The three of them are just too perfect and I can’t wait to see what’s to come.

“I don't think happily ever after is something that happens to you, Dev. I think it's something you choose to do for yourself.” -Charm Offensive by Alison Cochrun

So wholesome! So pure! This book just made me incredibly happy and it was impossible not to root for the characters. It was just so well done and a fun time. Plus the absolute delight of getting surprise ace spec rep when I wasn’t expecting it!! *chefs kisses*

“Sometimes, if you want to save other people, you need to remember to save yourself first.” -Vespertine by Margaret Rogerson

This was one of my most anticipated books of the year and it didn’t disappoint! Artemisia and the Revenant’s relationship was one of my favorite things. It was wonderfully dark, had amazing characters and I just cannot wait to see where this story goes from here.

“The bright star holds, even as the darkness rises.” -Dark Rise by C.S Pacat

I’m actually still reading this one but I love it so much that it had to go on the list! I am so here for the fantasy world building, characters, the slow burn just everything! Though given everyone's reactions I’m scared to see how it ends 😂

[y0itsbri]

Falling for You

ballet au one-shot for @gallavichthings 's a.u.gust

summary: dance instructor mickey! ian keeps messing up the lifts with the dancers, and mickey cannot have his girls injured because of this himbo, even if he is hot. he makes ian stay after class to practice on him -- and he swears there's no ulterior motives. but they're so close and his hands are all over him and he can feel his breath and it is so unprofessional but fuck it.

words: 2k

Mickey had a new guy in his class that wasn't doing... well... by any standards. Alright, the dude sucked. Mickey had been a ballet instructor for several years and not once has he met a dancer as uncoordinated and unbalanced as Ian fucking Gallagher.

Somehow, Ian had managed to not only rip the ballet barre off of the goddamn wall in his attempt at a grand plie, fallen flat on his face after pas de chat gone wrong, but he also managed to launch his fellow ballerinas onto the floor instead of the air.

He was a disaster.

Mickey had better shit to do with his time at the studio than patch up his dancers, and studio, after Gallagher's classes. Svetlana's father would have his ass if she got injured on his watch. And Ian being the only guy in their class, there was no way for him not to share the front-and-center spotlight with Svetlana.

Yeah, Mickey wasn't letting Ian any-fucking-where near Svet if he could help it. At least in his current state. Dude was a piece of work.

Mickey figured he would be a lot more upset about all this if Ian's apologetic puppy dog eyes weren't so goddamn convincing.

Fucking Gallagher.

--

"Ayo, Mands! Come help me with this!" Mickey called, echoing in the studio, now nearly empty besides the Milkovich siblings and a six-foot-tall ginger man looking both utterly clueless and utterly terrified. Mickey was utterly hopeless.

Mandy popped in the doorframe, sliding her shoes on but leaving them untied.

"Can't! I got actual shit to do! I don't live and breathe the studio like your sorry ass. No offense, Ian, my brother is great, please stay. Full offense, Mickey, get a fucking life!"

Mickey was left speechless and slightly embarrassed by Mandy's outburst and only managed to flip her off before she was out the door.

"Charming sister you got there," Ian let a quiet laugh slip before schooling his expression at Mickey's lack of amusement.

Mickey sighed and rubbed his hands down the length of his face for a moment. Ian and Mickey held eye contact a bit longer before Mickey abruptly straightened up and clapped his hands together. The noise startled Ian from his own amused trance.

"Alright, Clifford, how do you feel about private lessons for a little bit until you're not tripping over your own feet?"

Ian stepped forward to argue, but, proving Mickey's point, stumbled over the shoes on the floor in front of him. He didn't miss the way that Mickey's mouth quirked up on the side.

"Can't afford extra classes," Ian shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants.

"It's on me," Mickey swiped his top lip. He didn't miss the way that Ian's gaze lingered on his mouth,"Kinda need you..." really want you, "to, uh, look good..." as if he doesn't already, fucking red-headed alien-looking motherfucker, "on the floor..." of my bedroom, goddamn it, Mick, get it together! "the, uh, dance floor."

Ian paused, considering the way that Mickey was stumbling over his words in a way that one might call endearing, another might call the-worst-fucking-experience-of-his-life.

"I'll do it."

Do me. Seriously, go drink some water, oh my god.

Mickey literally took a sip from his water bottle, hoping that it would at least calm his nerves. He was a professional!

He crossed his arms over his chest. "You free after class?" A pause, "To work on some skills, I mean."

"It's a date," Ian smirked, leaning down to pick up his shoes from the ground in front of him. By the time he was upright again, Mickey had already started walking away, but the blush on his cheeks and the back of his neck could be spotted from a mile away. He was utterly fucked.

--

Mickey yawned and got up from his stretching position on the floor. He walked over to the stereo, systematically knocking his dancer's feet on his way over until they were all turned out and pointed.

"No Orange Boy today?" Svetlana asked, meeting Mickey's eyes with a challenging stare.

Mickey ignored the chorus of "He's so hot!" "Have you seen his arms?" and "Ian's the nicest!" from the rest of the girls.

Svetlana raised her eyebrow in question and Mickey's defenses flew out the window. This goddamn power dynamic was going to be the death of him.

"I put him on private lessons until he's no longer a disruption to the class," he shrugged.

"Aww," one brunette pouted.

"Disruption to class or disruption to tiny bulge in your pants?" Svetlana smirked, earning some scandalized gasps from the other dancers.

Mickey flipped her off, "The fucker made me take out a greater insurance policy with all his accidents, don't be fucking absurd."

A blonde nodded understandingly from the back of the class, "My ankle is still a little funky from the last lift we tried."

Mickey held his arms out in a display of I-told-you-so and Svetlana rolled her eyes.

"Great!" Mickey clapped his hands together, earning the full attention of his class as they hurried to their feet, "Now that all the hot drama is outta the air, let's do a quick warm up combo across the floor. Chasse step pas de bourree double pirouette step arabesque, in 5, 6, 7, 8..."

--

Ian had been waiting outside the studio for the last ten minutes of class, more-so watching his instructor shift around than paying attention to what the dancers were actually doing. That's probably what got him into his current predicament, and he couldn't decide whether that was a curse or a blessing. Mickey's arms flexed as he pointed across the room to call out someone's weak spot.

Yup, it was a blessing.

Oh shit, Mickey was looking his way. Was this a double sided mirror? No, of course not. Why would there be a double sided mirror? Oh, Mickey was definitely staring at him. Fuck. Wait, did he just wink? No way, he must've just blinked. With one eye. Yeah, totally normal. Nothing to overthink, Ian.

Get it together!

--

Mickey dismissed his class five minutes early and it had nothing to do with the Jolly Ginger Giant standing outside his studio.

While most of his dancers wordlessly accepted the easy out, Svetlana stayed back to taunt. "Have fun with private lessons," she sneered, jerking off an invisible cock.

"Choke on it," Mickey retorted tossing her warm-up jacket at her face, which she swiftly caught.

Svetlana turned and made a show of looking Ian up and down, his cheeks turning pink under her intense gaze. She faced Mickey head on, "You will be vegetable stew by the time this man is done with you."

The fuck does that mean?

Sometimes Mickey thought that Svetlana spoke in riddles just to mess with him. He blamed it on the Russian accent, never mind he was part Ukrainian himself. The languages were similar, but not identical, fuck you very much.

But, damn, forget that, Gallagher looked good. He was wearing his usual white tank top and grey sweatpants, but Mickey never got the opportunity to openly ogle in class. Not that that was what he was doing now.

Ian returned the long look appreciatively before stepping closer and Mickey snapped back into professionalism, well as far as professionalism goes, Milkovich-style.

He turned his back on the bane of his pathetic existence and snapped a quick but polite, "Get your shoes on and we can get started."

"Oh, right."

That seemed to be enough to get the gears in Ian's head going again as he dropped his bag to the floor, echoing in the truly empty studio, and dropping down onto the floor himself to secure his ballet shoes, which may as well be clown shoes for as big as his feet were. Mickey fit into the same brand as the girls, but he had to order special for Gallagher.

"Thanks for doing this, Mickey."

Mickey. The way that this man said his name was making him feel all sorts of flustered that he would most definitely deny.

"Mandy said you don't usually make exceptions."

"Gotta catch you up to speed or you're gonna be dancing with the 5 year-olds, man."

Ian tilted his head considering.

Mickey frowned, "Don't do it."

Ian smirked and Mickey had to look away as a grin and blush creeped up on his own face.

"Alright, so we'll start you off with the basics."

Mickey went through their normal class routine, but broke it down slowly, pausing to explain certain positions in details he couldn't afford to spend time with in class, specifically how not to fall. It should have been fairly obvious in his opinion, but Ian still managed somehow. The first few times, he was on the floor before Mickey even knew he was going down.

But the third, Mickey made a mistake. Mickey instinctively reached out to catch him.

As soon as he realized where his hands were, he pulled them off like he'd been burned, which he may have well been. He pulled his gaze to his feet, studying the floor while he composed himself.

"Mickey," Ian waited until he looked up, and then he spoke so quietly, "You can touch me."

And what made things worse was that Ian's dazzling eyes left little to the imagination. They both knew where this was going, and the moment was too intense too quick. The longer their eyes held, the hotter Mickey felt his neck grow.

"Ya know," Ian stepped closer. "To fix my positions..."

Mickey swallowed, "Uh, I think we're done for today."

He regretted the words the moment they left his mouth. He never meant them to begin with. But if Ian stayed any longer, Mickey was going to climb him like a tree and that really wasn't under his personal code of professionalism, no matter how loose those terms may be to begin with. It was getting late anyways, he reasoned with himself.

"What about the lifts? That's the important part, right?" Ian questioned, eyes pleading like he would die without this one skill being taught to him by his oh-so-unprofessional instructor.

Mickey sighed. Ya know what? Fuck it.

Mickey sauntered over to Ian, pressed his back to Ian's front, and grabbed one of Ian's massive hands and placed it on his own waist.

Ian gave an experimental squeeze and Mickey softened in his grip.

Ridiculous.

"We're not doing the lift are we?" Ian murmured breathily, hot air making the hairs on the back of Mickey's neck tingle.

"What do you think, Firecrotch?" Mickey pushed his weight back into Ian's chest, which would be the second mistake of the day.

Ian toppled over backwards, landing with a painful sounding thud and sending Mickey down on top of him before he rolled off the the side with a groan.

Ian started laughing and Mickey was concerned. Was this idiot actually fucking concussed this time? He wasn't sure how he would explain this to his insurance company.

Mickey straddled Ian's lap, gently slapping his face, "Are you good, man? Alive?"

"Never better." Ian was still smiling like an absolute goof.

Mickey raised an eyebrow in concern.

"Seriously, I just can't play things cool," Ian raised his hips to grind against Mickey's ass, "Obviously."

"You're an idiot," Mickey rolled his eyes, and all Ian could do was grin and reach up towards Mickey's neck, pulling his down until their lips almost touched, sharing breaths and excitement.

"Maybe," another breath, "But I still got you to fall for me."

It was Mickey's turn to laugh, more of a raspy exhale than anything. His "fuck you" was almost lost between them as they fell together at last.

(side note: this was the lift that they were going to do, so i feel like the hand on the waist makes sense -- gotta have a visual lmao)

[whichcouldmeannothing]

sailing through the air - spidey!callum au drabble

dear @stuckonspidey. ihope u dont regret ur decision

this was supposed tobe short

context : callum ilott's to do list : start outline for history project, investigate string of robberies in london, fall in love with your classmate, don't die on the job

--

As his mind wanders, he finds his thoughts drawn back to his project partner. They, they were actually having fun (Barely getting any work done, but that was fine) and then he went and ran away to somewhere. Mick knows it was probably really important, and he shouldn't feel as bummed about it, but, he sighs, he would have really loved to spend more time with him.

But, he realises, he's been Callum's classmate for almost his whole stint here and he never really realised how funny and kind and diligent he was.

(And, his mind remarks, how handsome he had gotten and how his hands had-)

Yeah, no.

He's seen Callum for coming to four years now, but why did this feel so different?

What happened to Callum Ilott?

As if almost on cue, something crashes behind him.

--

The fall is actually the second worst part of the night.

Honestly, he doesn't think anything could really top his pathetic excuse of leaving Mick Schumacher's house, he thinks. Who actually does their chores so obsessively that they would ditch schoolwork? And seriously, who in this century had such a desperate need to wash their whites that they'd leave a pretty boy's room?

It's with these thoughts that he falls onto an apartment complex.

God, first rule of the job. Don't get distracted.

He groans. He doesn't think he can do Phys Ed tomorrow in his state.

"Hello?" someone asks, and Callum remembers he actually has to open his eyes and-

Oh shit.

Blue eyes, full of worry, looking down on him.

Okay maybe the fall was the third worst thing to happen that night, as Mick Schumacher leans over him. Callum can't actually open his mouth, he doesn't even know how he can get away with this. He scrambles behind, his back hitting the brick half-wall on the roof. That makes it worse actually, his whole body in so much pain.

Mick's eyes widen. "Oh my-are you okay?" Callum's eyebrows narrow, wondering what exactly could worry this guy so much when he tracks where Mick is looking and-

Oh. Right, the stab wound.

Callum attempts to push himself up, and already Mick's hands are supporting him and wow, he is melting inside. The urge to just confess everything and shed his mask grows so strong.

He really has to pull himself together.

"Can you get back to- wherever you're from?" The blonde asks and he has to blink to focus.

He nods. Unfortunately, as he takes another step, pain flares from his abdomen and a winceleaves his mouth. Inside the mask, Callum shuts his eyes and internally berates himself for this one.

"Do you need the hospital, I-"

"No," he gasps. He hopes he remembered to make his voice sound different, hiking up his pitch a little bit. "No hospitals."

"Right, right, identity," Mick's scrambling, but Callum finds it so extremely endearing.

Wow, how much blood has he lost?

"I have a first-aid kit in my room? I can help you out?" And you see, Callum is an altruistic man. A kind man, who does not want to bother anyone. But, his good old luck strikes when he goes to decline politely and swing off, and he just-

--

-wakes up on an unfamiliar chair. His hands spasm and go up to his mask, which thankfully stayed on. He looks down and damn it, his suit's torn. Another thing he has to worry about later. His eyes scan the room and suddenly, it hits him. This isn't an unfamiliar room, he was here less than five hours ago for-

The door opens.

"I didn't know what you could take, so I just brought water and tea." Mick smiles sheepishly. He shuts the door, places the cups down. "My mom would kill me if I had someone bleeding out in my room." He says and Callum nods. His own mum would probably hate it if she saw someone bleeding out in her son's room. Which almost happened before. Art project, his excuse that time.

The two of them sit in silence for a little bit. He stares at the posters he was actively trying to avoid when he was here. "Nice room." He says.

"Thanks." The German hands him the tea, he drinks from the water.

"So, Spidey," Callum barely resists screaming. "What happened?"

"Convenience store robbery." He answers. "Guess it wasn't too convenient for them."

Mick groans. Callum laughs at his absolutely hilarious joke.

"That wasn't funny." Mick comments.

"Sure," They lapse into silence and Callum stares at his now sewn up wound.

"So, Mister Prepared, how'd you learn to do this?" He turns his hand at his chest.

"My mom taught me when I was young how to fix clothes. I assumed it was the same?" Callum nods. "Man of talent."

He takes a sip of his tea. "Man of many talents."

Mick smiles and suddenly, Callum's massive brain runs through a specific plan.

Look, Mick would never notice him normally. Why would he, he's Mister Perfect, but in his suit, he's not Callum Ilott, random classmate. He's Spider-Man, your friendly neighbourhood superhero. He can also be a teenage hearthrob too.

"Thank you," he motions with his cup. "For the hot thing, and the tea." He winks, thanking the gods that his suit had the eye things. His companion blushes, and Callum can't help the grin crawling onto his face.

He puts down his mug. "Thanks for everything, maybe I'll come back for the company."

He walks to the open window. "Try not to get hurt." Mick asks.

"For you, I'd have a run in with Loki." He salutes Mick and sails out his window, launching a web on a nearby building.

Finally, a good exit. He grins as he swings back home.

--

i dont know how stab wounds work i hope i didnt kill callum

[oatmilkovich]

acting thoughts on ep 10? I thought cam did *such* a good job during the "I think we should do this" apt scene. I'm usually pretty neutral about Emma but I did not connect at all to her during any of the "all by myself" scenes- the music had to be there to make it comedic b/c I felt *nothing* real, emotional, or grounded from her.

hey ❤️

i loved cam’s work in episode 10. i thought he brought a great softness to ian’s approach to things throughout the episode, it was incredibly endearing to watch and it left me still thinking about it. in fact, i’ve loved watching cam take ian from the high levels of stress we saw in the beginning to someone a hell of a lot more comfortable. it’s not really been anything mind blowing, but sometimes it doesn’t have to be. sometimes you just have to believe these characters are telling the truth. i definitely bought that ian really just wants to make this life for him and mick — he’s waited so long and they’ve fought so hard — he knows they deserve it.

yeah, emma on the other hand... i’m with you on that one anon. but, whilst she didn’t bring anything truthful (imo!) to the table, i don’t wanna put all the blame on her. the worst thing about it for me was the weird editing. i don’t know who thought it was a good idea to put that song over those moments, but it completely ruined anything i might’ve taken from it. the only thing it invoked in me was cringe. i get that the show is a comedy now and blah, blah, blah, but it just felt like a super cheap laugh and miles away from hitting the mark. debbie’s feelings about leaving her home could’ve been a really good storyline full of interesting for her to work with, but like everything, it’s treated like a joke.

sorry this took a second, but thank you so much for asking <3

[lonelyreputation]

C’est Toi (coffee shop au) • PROLOGUE, wc: 1.4k

Wednesday - January 02, 2019 - 18:31

There’s a lot of people watching at an airport.  The thought always crosses my mind––who is returning from a trip?  Did they enjoy it?  Or are they dreading returning home?Who just left the comfort of their own home? Are they sad?  Elated?  Well, I guess that’s more than just one thought.  I still have an hour until my flight.  Why is it required to be at the airport hours before an international flight?  Just another thought to tack on.

“Oh, sweetie,” McLane’s mother wrapped her arms tightly around her daughter, “I cannot believe you’re off for another semester!”

McLane let out a breathy laugh, squeezing her eyes as tight as her mother’s hug as to not let any tears spill over, “Yeah,” it was a weak response, McLane knew it, but she didn’t want to cry during her send off, she promised herself she wouldn’t cry, “another.”

Easing her way out of the hug, McLane’s mom held her daughter away at arms length, with her hands softly rubbing her shoulders, “London, oh goodness, how’d you manage to convince us on that, Mick?”

Shrugging her shoulders, McLane abandoned her mother’s soft gaze to stare at her suitcase.  One large suitcase to stowaway under the plane, one carry on for the overhead bin, and her back pack.  McLane’s stare soon hardened into a glare at her luggage––she swore they were mocking her and that they knew she was forgetting something.

“Yeah, Mick,” William, McLane’s twin brother raised an eyebrow, “How’d the golden girl manage to escape for a semester?”

McLane let out a genuine laugh as her mother whipped her head to the side and glared at her son as their father lovingly hit him on the back side of the head.  William gave his father a side-eye and rubbed the back of his head.  He rolled his eyes, stood up straight, and opened both of his arms wide, “Gonna miss my golden girl.”

It was a curious thing––William and McLane––while they were twins, they looked nothing like siblings.  William stood at six feet tall, while McLane was five foot and three inches.  William inherited his mother’s blonde curly hair and green eyes, and McLane had her father’s pin straight brunette hair and blue eyes.  Physically they didn’t look like each other, but they were almost identical in personality.

Once McLane felt her mother’s hands drop from her shoulder, she barreled into her brother’s open arms.  She clutched to the back of his red Maryland flag t-shirt as he soothingly ran his hands along her back.  She took in a shaky breath as her brother’s fingers continued to ghost over her back.  

How was she going to survive a semester abroad?

She and William didn’t attend the same college, but she would road trip every spring to watch his lacrosse games at Duke, and he would road trip to see her at least once a semester at the University of Virginia.  Between their road trips seeing each other and traveling home for the holidays, they always saw each other a minimum of four times a semester.  But with a plane ticket to London being more expensive than a five hour car ride, it would be a different semester for both of them.

“You should probably check your bag then get in line for security,” McLane turned her head to the side to see her father looking down at his watch, “Wouldn’t want you to miss your flight.”

At the mention of her departure, McLane’s fist tightened around her brother’s shirt and she buried her head back into his chest.  William tightened his hold on his sister.  He knew his sister better than anyone else, and he knew just how bad she wanted to study abroad.  Ever since she was thirteen, he vividly remembered their summers when they shared a room at their grandmother’s beach house in Ocean City, Maryland and how she would stay up for hours talking his ear off about studying abroad.

William kissed the top of her head and whispered, “This is all you’ve ever wanted––it’s literally just hours away now.”

McLane nodded and once she got her breathing under control, she let go of her brother’s shirt and quickly wiped her eyes with the heel of her palm.  She took four deep breaths before speaking, “I––I’ll just miss you so much,” She sniffled, “You know how I am with goodbyes.”

William smiled down at his sister and patter her head.  She narrowed her eyes at him.

“We’ll be here when you get back, idiot.”

“William.”

William turned to his chastising mother as he held his hands up in surrender, chuckling, “It’s a term of endearment.”

“No name calling,” Their mother glared at him before bringing her fingers up to her temple to rub them, “I swear you’re the reason why Daisy back talks so often.”

McLane snorted, “She’s fifteen, she’s at the worst age.”

“Lucky you for escaping.”

The twins shared a beaming smile with each other before turning to their mother with the same shit-eating grin. The one that always got them out of trouble.  She looked at her kids with a hard stare, but traded in her faux hardness for a tender gaze, “I miss you both so much when you go away.”

“I’ll still be around to bother you.” 

“William’s very good at that,” McLane nodded her head with a tone that said she wasn’t messing around, but playful enough to earn her a forehead flick from her twin.

“Hey––“

“Mick,” It was their father who interrupted before any of their shenanigans started.  He held up her book bag in one hand with a solemn look on his face, “It’s time.”

It was like the past few minutes of playing around with her brother evaporated.  Her throat went dry, palms sweaty, and she felt the familiar prickle behind her eyes start back up.

Turning away from her brother, McLane took a few steps toward her dad, took her backpack from him and gave him a hug.  It was a quick hug––their father wasn’t much of a touchy feely sort of guy with his emotions––but she knew she was loved.  He kissed her head before taking her larger suitcase and rolling it towards her, “I’ll help you check your bag.”  That was his way of saying everything will be alright.  She nodded her head.

She wished checking her bag took longer.  She wanted to prolong her family time for as much as she could––five months she would be without them––five months too long.

When McLane and her father reached back to where William and her mother stood, she gripped the strap of her backpack and took her carryon suitcase from her mother.  She swallowed down a cry, “I––I’lll––See you later?”

McLane looked at everyones expression.  Her mother’s eyes were rimmed in redness as she gave a tight-lipped quivering smile, her father sent her a nod and a soft smile, and William was beaming ear to ear.  She returned his grin and took her passport out from her sweatshirt pocket, flipping the book between her fingers, and with one final smile––a genuine smile––she spun around and headed for the security line.

“Hey, Mick!”

McLane stopped right before the black barrier and scrunched up her eyebrows at her brother’s voice.  His hands were cupped around his mouth––very unnecessary, she thought, because she wasn’t that far away from him.

“You won’t want to come home by the time you’re finished!”

With a roll of her eyes she shook her head.  There would be nothing that would make her not want to come back to her family.  They were her everything.  Sure––William could be a nuisance, her mother could nag her to death, her father brought up post-graduate plans every chance he got, and Daisy was at the God awful stage where everything revolved around her as the world simultaneously hated her––but she wouldn’t trade them in for the world.

So as she handed her ticket and passport to the TSA officer, put her luggage on the conveyor belt, took her shoes off, and walked through the metal detector, she looked back one last time.  Her father cradled her mother into his side as she sobbed into his shoulder and William looked at her with a smirk and a glimmer in his eyes that spoke volumes of him being certain she wouldn’t want to return home.

She rolled her eyes and flipped him off.

a/n: Coffee shop AU! Coffee shop AU!!!! Woot! I’ve been working/planning this for quite sometime! Exciting stuff coming in the future!! 

And while Shawn isn’t ~in this chapter, he WILL be in the next chapter!! This is just some background so you get the gist of McLane! Let me know what you thought of this / what you think is gonna happen in the future! Whoop whoop!  

I’m still also filling out requests so keep your eyes peeled for a baker!Shawn AU, unrequited love piece, and a jealous!Shawn 👀

[mollymauk-teafleak]

baby, you’re like lightning in a bottle (chapter two)

Huge thanks to my beta readers @spiky-lesbian and @minky-for-short!

Please reblog or leave a comment on Ao3! Really makes my day!

Chapters : 1, 2

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First rule of thieving, hiding something under the floorboards is as bad as putting it on a pedestal surrounded by flashing lights. First rule of thieving, don’t just have one planned exit, have ten. First rule of thieving, a smile and a joke can open some doors money can’t. First rule of thieving, doors are merely suggestions. First rule of thieving, be in bed before ten or I’m taking your comms off you, Pete, don’t try me.

Peter ran through every rule he could remember, every little pearl of wisdom or dry sarcasm he’d ever heard Mag say, smugly while they were on a job that was going well, whispered while they were sneaking through somewhere they weren’t supposed to be and had to be quiet, panted breathlessly as they were fleeing the scene of the crime, pronounced with a soft fondness back home after a successful gig, Peter sat reading at Mag’s feet, Mag’s hand coming down on his shoulder to give it a proud squeeze. Hundreds of first rules and he’d remembered them all.

And not a single one justified what he was doing right now.

He’d fallen behind the Steel twins as they walked through the corridors, Ben sometimes throwing a smile over his shoulder to him, Juno doing the same with suspicious scowls. Everything Peter Nureyev had been taught told him to go back the other way, find somewhere quiet to sit amongst the other students and play the role he’d built so fastitiously and shown off so proudly, promising to do a good job. And then, as soon as the day ended, he could begin the real work. Done in three days, back on Brahma before the week was out. Back home, clutching the proof that he was ready to do whatever it might take to fight for his planet.

And maybe make the weight on his shoulders a little lighter.

So why was he following these guys, one of whom seemed to actively despise him, going who knew where to do who knew what? Peter hadn’t quite figured that out yet, in spite of his growing army of doubts. And he wasn’t turning back either.

“I thought we were going to lunch?” he ventured, like he could just ask the right questions and he’d realise why his brain appeared to have fallen out the back of his skull, “Isn’t the cafeteria back that way?”

Ben gave a twirl and walked backwards so he could answer, apparently not caring if he crashed into anything, trusting Juno would jerk him out of the way, “It is. But us cool kids have a way better place to eat.”

“Where?” Peter asked apprehensively. He now realised they’d moved into corridors with empty, silent classrooms, with no other students loitering against the walls. Had he walked right into some trap? Were they about to jump him? Ben had a nice smile, he’d hate to have to shatter it.

“You’ll see,” Ben only grinned mysteriously, before Juno roughly yanked him back the right way so he would see he’d been about to but his foot right in a janitor’s bucket.

Peter sighed and shifted his backpack so he’d be able to free his knife more easily. So much for making friends and blending in. Maybe this would teach him to stick to the goddamn plan.

Luckily he wasn’t planning to stick around until detention.

Eventually they reached the very far corner of the school and saw two other students standing by a fire exit. One was an almost comically tall young man, taller even than Peter, long dreadlocks pulled back from his face by a band, both jeans and shirt ripped in places and stained with what looked like machine grease. The other was a girl with her black hair cut short and rather severe, the plain clothes and tight line of her jaw making her look thoroughly like someone not to be messed with.

Ben gave a shout of delight as soon as he saw them and took off at a run, throwing himself into the arms of the tall kid, who caught him and immediately kissed him fiercely, a little more than two people with an audience should really kiss.

Juno groaned and the girl rolled her eyes, saying, “You guys have only been apart for one period, you do realise that? You don’t have to act like one of you was lost at sea.”

“You know what they’re like, Sasha,” Juno grunted, approaching at a much more leisurely pace.

“Disgusting?”

“Hey!” Ben drew back, the tall boy’s face now thoroughly stained with his lipstick, “An hour’s a long time, it’s relative!”

“I’m your fucking relative,” Juno shot back, “And making me watch you suck Mick’s face every five seconds ought to be some kind of crime.”

“Since when have we cared what’s a crime and what isn’t?” the tall guy, evidently Mick, asked with an endearing sincerity.

“Speaking of which, let’s get going,” the girl, Sasha, got to her feet, “I’m starving.”

Peter stood, waiting for one of them to ask who the hell he was or what he thought he was doing here. They all interacted with the practised ease he’d seen in people who’d known each other for a very long time, who’d been through a lot together and had proven trust to be easily traded back and forth. And he was the outsider, the unfamiliar face. Not a feeling he was unaccustomed to, not by a long shot, but he was used to it coming along with hostile looks and questions.

But neither Sasha nor Mick even questioned his presence. Mick was far more preoccupied with Ben in his arms and Sasha merely glanced at him and then at Juno. Juno’s frown only deepend and his eyes went to Ben accusingly. To Sasha, that seemed to answer everything.

Peter kept his face impassive, like he hadn’t seen any of it. Though his heart seemed to sit lower in his chest than before.

“If you’re done scarring us all?” Juno raised an eyebrow at Mick and Ben.

“Sure,” Ben smiled primly and hopped back onto his own two feet, addressing Peter now, “There’s security guards that patrol the grounds but they’re lazy and their routines are so obvious it’s really embarrassing. All we have to do is run from here to the fence, jump it and be gone in five minutes. Easy peasy, yeah?”

Peter could only stand there and gape, “And...this is us going to lunch?”

Ben gave a bark of laughter, punching him in the arm again. He seemed to do that a lot.

“I love this guy! Hey, all you gotta do is keep up. Eyes on us, keep moving and you’ll be fine.”

Sasha already had the fire door open to the strange but not entirely unexpected absence of any alarm. She poked her head through the small gap, looking this way and that with a practised, almost military eye that Peter would envy if he wasn’t so sure of himself.

“Okay, it’s all clear. Let’s move,” she motioned them through, taking off at a run.

Ben and Mick followed, hand in hand. For a few moments it was just him and Juno, Peter wondering awkwardly if he should say something and what that something might be until the chance was gone and Juno ran after his friends without even a glance in his direction.

Last chance. He could turn and walk in the opposite direction now, the smoothest extraction he was likely to get. He could just avoid them tomorrow, get his head down, focus on his job and, after that, he’d never see any of them again. It wouldn’t matter.

And there was something about that fact that Peter couldn’t stand. So he ran.

Peter had learned a long time ago that he’d never win if the contest was purely based on strength so he’d gotten very good at running and running fast. And over the cracked, hard baked playing fields that were more crumbling dirt than actual grass, he practically flew towards the tall, barbed wire topped fencing that surrounded the school and made it look more like a prison than anything Peter had seen in streams about high school. By the time he was close enough to see, he caught Mick’s sneaker disappearing behind one of the buildings that surrounded the school, mostly businesses long closed down and housing with boarded up windows. And Juno had just reached the bottom of the fence and the scrabby, overgrown bushes that fringed it, ready to jump.  

In his head, Peter had been keeping a count ever since Ben had told them they had five minutes to make their escape. First rule of thieving, time is your best friend and your worst enemy so know how to keep an eye on it. There was just over a minute remaining.

With a grace that startled Peter, Juno scaled the fence, stamping down the barbed wire with one boot so he could lever himself over without so much as snagging his tights. He was just about to start on his way down when the two of them froze simultaneously at the same sound, above the distant noise of the city and the roads and the faint hollering from the school. These were voices, much more immediate, much closer, just from the other side of the wilting shrubbery. And getting closer by the second.

Juno cursed gruffly and eyed Peter, scrawny, anxious newbie Peter Ransom, just coming to the bottom of the fence, still with a climb and a tangle of rusty but still wicked metal to content with. For a moment, it was crystal clear what was about to happen. Juno would give him one last sneer then drop to the other side and run, leaving Peter to be caught by the security guards and dragged to detention. It was the only thing that made sense.

But it seemed like Peter wasn’t the only one who wasn’t following the rules. After half a beat, he held out his hand, reaching down to the guy he’d been growling at all day.

“Will you hurry up?” he snapped, voice an angry hiss but his arm outstretched.

Peter’s eyes widened, having to pause and check he was actually seeing what he thought he was seeing. And then he frowned.

Quick as a squirrel, he dug his fingers into the links of the fence and scrambled up without so much as a stumble, moving so swiftly and deftly that all he had to do was vault himself over the wire and land with all the flair of a gymnast. And then it was Juno’s turn to drop his jaw.

“Will you please hurry up?” Peter asked politely before running in the direction he’d seen Mick go.

Not the smartest thing he’d ever done. Definitely one of the smuggest. Hardly in character. But Peter couldn’t deny that the look in Juno’s eyes and the half second before he heard him climb down and run after him was incredibly satisfying.

Apparently what that daring escape had been in service of was an abandoned alleyway that the friends had turned into some kind of fort. Crates had been stacked up like walls, a sagging tarpaulin that looked like it had once been part of a display on a storefront would keep off the simulated rain, ratty fabrics had been strung up between the crates and another fence, shielded with broken down cardboard boxes provided seating and a trash can that had clearly held many fires inside it’s buckled and blackened skin was set down in the centre.

When Nureyev arrived, Ben and Mick were already sharing one of those improvised hammocks. Ben laughed in delight when he saw him duck under the roof that still advertised 50% off who knew what.

“I knew you’d make it!” Ben grinned, nearly tipping both him and Mick onto the filthy ground in his eagerness to give Peter a high five.

“I saw how fast you were running,” Mick agreed, gripping the neck of his boyfriend’s sweatshirt and the fence so he didn’t tumble, “That was way cool.”

“He did fine,” behind Peter came a sour growl that told him Juno had entered just behind him. If he’d been hoping for some kind of grudging respect or acceptance after what happened back at the fence, it was clear he’d be disappointed, “Where’s Sasha?”

“Getting lunch,” Ben collapsed back against Mick’s chest, either not seeing or deliberately ignoring his twin’s foul mood.

Juno grunted, collapsing into a hammock of his own. Peter realised he should take a seat too but he wasn’t sure where exactly. It was pretty impressive, as far as dens made of garbage in dank smelling alleyways went. Clearly they’d been coming here a long time, improving it slowly over time, adding and expanding. But something about it’s cobbled together half comforts reminded Peter too much of years he’d rather forget. Years when places like this had been all he’d had to call home.

But that was Peter Nureyev’s past, not Peter Ransom’s. Ransom didn’t have a lifespan beyond nine am that morning and three pm on Friday. Outside of that handful of days, he didn’t exist. As long as he wore that name, he didn’t have those memories.

So he sat himself down on an overturned trash can, folding his legs under himself and pretending to listen while Ben teased his brother, Juno bit back, and Mick interjected occasionally with his unique kind of empty headed sincerity.

Almost ten minutes passed and Sasha didn’t return though no one but Peter seemed to notice.

Eventually he cleared his throat, “Uh...there’s ten minutes before next period.”

“And?” Juno raised an eyebrow.

Ben rolled his eyes at his brother and shrugged to Peter, “We’ve always seen our schedules more as suggestions than hard and fast rules, y’know? We’ll slip in sometime before the last lesson. No one notices as long as you come back at some point.”

Peter bit his lip. He wasn’t sure how he felt about a plan that was optional. Whenever he was given a place to be and a time to be there, he took it seriously. Thieves who didn’t soon found themselves in prison. Or, on Brahma, worse. Even now, years since he’d lacked the skills to avoid it, he felt his chest tighten and a creeping sense of alarm making him glance nervously at the sky around nine at night. That was the curfew imposed by New Kinshasa.

“You can head back if you want? We don’t mind?”

Mick’s voice had quietened and, for the first time since he’d met him, his eyes weren’t on Benzaiten. He was letting the brothers continue their squabbling and looking to Peter instead, his eyes concerned and kind.

Peter swallowed and shook his head. As deep in as he already was, he’d rather stay amongst the people who smiled at him like that. And it wasn’t like there was much to preserve in Peter Ransom’s attendance record, seeing as he wouldn’t exist in a week.

Eventually Sasha reappeared again, coming right over the fence and dropping into their midsts, holding paper bags in both hands. On them was the logo for a fast food joint Peter always saw in streams but had never made it to the backwater planets like Brahma.

“They really should invest in better security. They’re a gazillion cred company, you’d think they’d be able to afford a guard on the door,” she tossed her short hair and started distributing parcels that smelled of grease, salt and unhealthy levels of goodness.

“Hope not,” Juno mumbled around a mouthful of meat and cheese, “I’m not about to start paying for this crap.”

“Food only tastes good if it’s free,” Ben nodded in agreement.

Sasha dropped one of the bags in Nureyev’s lap, “Sorry, I didn’t know what you liked so I just went for a cheeseburger and fries. That okay?”

Peter had to remind himself of his current last name to chase away the tightness in his throat. Peter Ransom had never gone hungry. Peter Ransom had never spent days not knowing where his next meal was coming from. Peter Ransom had no reason to want to cry at someone just handing him food like he was worthy of it.

“Yeah, that’s great. Thanks.”

The rest of it was all in jokes Peter didn’t understand, references to people he didn’t know and places he’d never been. Mick seemed to do a lot of the talking, he had a storyteller’s kind of cadence and a way of gesturing as he spoke to snag attention easily. Peter had heard enough bullshit in his life and had studied enough about Hyperion to not believe a single word of the rambling anecdotes he told but they were kind of comforting. So he stayed silent, ate and listened to descriptions of people and places that didn’t exist, letting the food and the scent of the cigarettes they lit warm him through.

He was so lost in it, it took Ben three attempts to get him to answer and he found himself jumping guiltily, “Sorry, what?” First rule of thieving, always be aware even if you don’t look like it. Especially if you don’t.

“I asked if you wanted to come to this party tomorrow night, one of the kids from my math class has their parents out of town and they said anyone’s cool to come,” Ben smiled encouragingly. He hadn’t taken a cigarette when they’d been passed round. Peter knew if he focused and thought, he’d have been able to work out why but something about that seemed wrong now.

Instead he bit his lip and answered, “Sure. Yeah, that sounds fun.” He could just say he was sick when the time came.

“Awesome! Anyway, what do you have last period, we’ll tell you where to head once we get back.”

Peter fished for the now creased and folded schedule he’d been given that morning, “Uh...Earth History?”

“No way!” Ben’s grin widened, “So does Juno! You guys can walk over there together and he can show you his notes. They’re shit but it’s a start.”

Over in his corner, Juno coughed and hacked for a reason that didn’t have anything to do with his cigarette. He shot Ben a scandalised look, thin grey trails trickling from his nose, “Benzaiten…”

Unconcerned, he met Juno's eyes. It really was scary how similar they were, past the dyed hair and the piercings, how they could hold the exact same fierceness. Benten just did it more subtly.

“What? That’s your class. Ransom doesn’t know where he’s going and he’s never taken the subject before. Why wouldn’t you help him?”

There was a tense moment, where Sasha and Mick shared an anxious look and Peter wanted to shrink down into his oversized shirt and disappear. But it was only a moment. Juno looked away with his jaw set in resignation and Ben continued smiling like nothing had happened. He just jumped up, pulling Mick along with him.

“So! Let’s head back.”

The way back was far more leisurely than their breakneck escape. No one cared when you were coming back to the place you were supposed to be.

Still seething, Juno put as much distance as he could between himself and Peter without being belligerently obvious about it. Which was all well and good, if you believed distance was the only factor in someone overhearing you. If you believed the kid you were mad at for some inexplicable reason was just a regular kid and not someone who’d been trained in finding out things people didn’t want him to know since the age of six.

Back in school, with the corridors silent except for the muffled noise behind the classroom doors, Mick and Sasha went off in their own directions, leaving just the three of them. Seeing that Juno clearly had no intention of walking to Earth History with him, Peter just gave them both a quick goodbye, saving grace by saying he needed to get something from his locker before class started.

He didn’t even know where his locker was.

From around the corner, tucked into the space between two banks of the regular metal cupboards, Peter could hear every word of the brothers’ conversation.

Almost as soon as he’d gone beyond the corner, he heard Juno round on his twin, “What the fuck is your-”

“I was going to ask you the same thing!” Benten didn’t let him finish, his voice tenser than it had ever been in front of Peter, “God, Juno, the kid’s done nothing wrong! He just needs some friends and you’re acting like such a bitch!”

“Come on,” Juno sounded uncomfortable in the face of Ben’s exasperation. Peter got the feeling, just from his voice, that upsetting his twin wasn’t something he made a habit of, “It’s not just that. I see the look on your face, the whole ‘ooh, Juno, why don’t you walk the new kid to class, ooh Juno let’s invite the new kid to the party’ schtick…”

“Well, enlighten me then,” Ben countered, softening a little too, “Because I’m confused. Someone showing up, looking like he does...Juno, I know you, you should have stuck your tongue down his throat by now! You’ve done it before with people way less good looking and nice than Ransom, you two would actually be good together! Is this a new weird way of flirting or something?”

In his hiding place, Peter swallowed hard and felt his face heat up. The immature thoughts he’d had when he first saw Juno made themselves known, skittering not entirely unpleasantly in his stomach. Until Juno’s words froze them.

“First off, rude. Second of all...look, I just can’t stand the guy. Something about him just...it doesn’t feel right. Like he’s hiding something. And I want to find out what it is.”

He decided he’d heard enough, walking away quickly, not even sure if it was the way he was supposed to be going or not. To his shame, Peter felt tears building hotly in his eyes. Whether it was because he’d derailed his job for a pretty face who couldn’t bear the sight of him or because he was ashamed of how he’d allowed himself to be taken in and slip up so dangerously or just because he was sick of being here where he didn’t understand anything, Peter didn’t know. But he knew what he had to do now.

He had to complete his mission and get the hell away from Mars and Juno Steel as fast as he could.

[gorogues]

Spoilers for Flash #85!

You can see the first few pages here.

Definitely a lot of developments in this issue.  It seems that Lisa and Sam really are through now and she's definitely flirting with Barry, and Len and Sam have crossed some major lines regarding their family.  Are these mistakes the two of them can't come back from?  No, probably not, although I can't help but wonder if Sam's being set up as a major villain, possibly even one who's independent from the Rogues.

As you can see here, Sam's allied himself with Len and delivers his friends -- including Lisa -- right to King Cold and his army.  And then Len freezes everyone but Barry -- again, including Lisa -- after she tries to reason with her brother and save him from himself.  So she's had a lot of betrayals from the people who supposedly love her the most, and even Barry hurts her by badly joking about arresting her after this is over.  She'll have a lot to emotionally deal with after this story arc ends.  

Meanwhile, Len's been doing his best to push away his family all on his own and then blames Barry for it, which is a depressing bit of messed-up logic not uncommon from people in denial.  He's something of a psychological and physiological mess here: his body appears to be decaying or at least seriously harmed by the tech giving him powers, and he's grimly hanging on to his status as a winner even as they all hurtle towards doom.  His father (and his father's abuse) has clearly been on his mind recently, and his time with Suicide Squad hasn't done his mood or emotional state any favours.  Nor would it be a surprise if Luthor's tech has been harming his mind just as it's obviously harming his body.  He's done terrible things in this story, but it's debatable how much has been done with a clear mind.

Sam, on the other hand, comes off the worst here; it sure seems like he's become a selfish hedonist who cares only about himself and having a good time.  Unless he's got some double cross planned to help out the others or at least Lisa, he's just being a dick.  

The flashbacks to Marco's and Mick's early lives are interesting.  I'm really not sure why the Mardons are old-timey gangsters, but it's far more endearing than a modern drug cartel so I'll accept it.  And the bit with Mick is ambiguous, but it possibly implies he did not set the fire which killed his family, and all he did was not seek help for them.  He could still have set it, but Lisa's words don't assign blame for that and the source of the fire is not clear.  As I said, interesting.

As noted above, I'm wondering if Sam is being set up as a major Big Bad, because Lisa notes how scary and powerful he is, he betrays most of the others here, and he was (seemingly inexplicably) included in the Villain Of The Year voting.  The latter would make more sense if he becomes more prominent, because I was certainly puzzled why he'd be included when he hasn't really done much.  It'd make even more sense if he was included in the voting after becoming more prominent, but maybe timing didn't quite line up properly.  We will have to see, but one would think he's getting more attention and more hyped up for a reason.

I don't know if I liked this issue, but I did find it very interesting.  The psychological issues hinted at with Len are fascinating to ponder, while Lisa, Marco, and Sam have gotten more attention in this arc than they ever have in the Rebirth-era book (and arguably more than Sam and Marco got in the New 52 era as well).  It's just that Sam's attention is quite negative and makes him a very ugly person, and I've got mixed feelings on that.  Maybe something neat will come from it, and I hope so.  But we'll have to see where it goes, and I'd think the remaining issues in the arc will probably be interesting as well.  There'll certainly be a lot of emotional fallout from this arc, and hopefully that gets addressed at some point.

[angrylizardjacket]

Run to Paradise {Nikki Sixx} Part 21

21. you look like a man you’ll never meet

Summary: They all have houses! The tour is over! Lola and Nikki fight about what is and isn’t a shitty father! 

Warnings: uh, drinking and drugs and blowjobs in ikea but not explicitly. arguments about shitty parents.

ragtag bunch of misfits: @starlalove @toofasttofallinlove  @xrosegoldwolfx @obsessivesky  @trpwthme @lovehelpmewrite @colsons-crue  @marvelismylifffe  @lilytalebi @glitterdreamsz  @freddiessmallnipples @crazysaladchopshop @inthebackofmycarlaytheirbodies  @dramatique-moi  @missqueeniewrites @calspixie  @aryssav @catsoo12  @sweetshutter @silvertonguedserpent  @shamelessobsessions @lavenderbones22  @keepcalm-and-beyou @scarecrowmax  @nicholeh7 @unknownoblivion

{masterlist}

Three houses. No license. Three different sets of emotions and feelings that can pass for love. More money than her family ever had locked in a safe in the back of her closet with her piano score books.

When they get back from tour, the four of them clear out what little shit they care about from the apartment. Vince doesn't even bother coming to collect anything.

"If I've left any shit there, burn it."

Tommy, after hearing that, follows his lead, but he comes along for nostalgia, if nothing else. Nikki collects a few stashes of drugs and cash that he'd left behind in case of emergency. Lola collects up the porn magazines and piano sheet music she'd left in the closet, along with a folded up piece of paper that Tommy snatches the moment it catches his interest. His expression turns amused as he unfolds it.

"You have got the weirdest fuckin' spank bank, Lo," he turns the photo to Nikki, who laughs, though Lola's expression sours considerably and she tries to awkwardly get the picture back, "seriously, in with all those nudie mags you've got a fuckin' photocopy of a burnt picture of an old, Hawaiian dude?" He squints at words written on the back, reads out the first of two names; "Oh, Maleko Fields, sounds saucy, or is he Kaitlin?" Lola actually flinches at that, but he doesn't seem to notice, "Either way, I've gotta hand it to you, that's an extremely specific-"

"That's my dad, you asshole!" It comes out as a growl, and Tommy's face falls. Lola grabs the old picture back, carefully refolding it and tucking it into the front of one of the piano books.

The three of them are looking for places, but they crash on Vince's sofa until they find ones they like, though it doesn't take long. They're not exactly picky, just wanting something gaudy, with a good view, and a pool, and more bathrooms than any of them rightly need. Lola doesn't care much about how the house is decorated, but she calls up Doc the morning after she and Nikki are given the keys; she wants a piano, and she wants him to put her in touch with whoever can give her the gaudiest, most expensive piano known to man.

"I want Elton John to have fucked on it, I want those keys diamond encrusted, I want Freddie fucking Mercury to have done coke off of it, I want the Piano Man piano!" She announces, standing in the sparsely decorated living room, hand on her hip, looking out the window, already feeling herself getting bored of the conversation and wanting to explore the balcony and the view beyond.

"Are you fucking high? It's not even nine," Doc grumbles. It's a Sunday, Lola doesn't even consider for a second that she might have woken him up. If you pay enough money, anyone will get up when you ask, real estate agents and band managers alike, is how she reasons it.

"Of course I'm fucking high, and I've got a house of my own and cash to blow; I want what Johann Sebastian Bach had! I want Tchaikovsky, I want Stravinsky, I want fucking Gershwin!" She demanded, getting louder and more dramatic with each name she rattled off.

"If you yell one more composer at me, you're fired." Doc cuts her off, before yawning, "listen; you guys are coming in next week to start work on the new album, right? I'll get a number for you by then if you promise to make sure they're here on time."

"On time?" Lola actually laughs. Doc sighs, and gives her an hour leeway, but they come to an agreement.

Nikki's still asleep on the mattress on the floor of their new bedroom, but Lola's strung out body clock had her up at four in the morning, and she hasn't been able to get back to sleep. She watched the sun rise over the LA skyline on one side of the house, lost track of time watching the ocean from their balcony on the other side while drinking a bottle of spiced rum, swam naked in their brand new pool, and tried to make a list of all the furniture they needed to buy, but just ended up writing sofa and underlining it five times as she lay on the plush carpet of the living room.

The photocopy of the photo of Lola's father sits on the kitchen island, staring silently at the ceiling; Nikki calls it creepy when he wakes up. He laments for a moment about not having a fridge before pulling a beer from the case they'd opened the night before in celebration.

"Why is it burned?" He asks, cracking the can, "and why haven't you finished the job?" He snickers and takes a loud, obnoxious sip. Lola gives him a shove, glaring down at the picture for a long moment.

"Because he's fuckin' out there somewhere, and what if I forget what he looks like?" She turns, raising her eyebrows at Nikki expectantly.

"So you keep it around so you know who to burn when the real thing shows up?" He asks, and Lola scowls. "Why don't I know shit about your parents?" Nikki asks bluntly. Lola takes the drink from his hands and begins to gulp it down, but he steals it back, and ends up getting beer all over both of them in the struggle.

"I'm not gonna burn my dad," Lola, beer covered and strung out at midday on a Sunday, speaks in a tone that Nikki can't quite identify. Her hand comes up to scratch at her shoulder blade, and he's not even sure if she's aware that she's doing it. "He was great, okay? When he was around he was great. When - when he comes back, I wanna show him that I'm better, alright? That - you know what? Fuck it, I don't have to explain shit to you, Nikki." Her whole face scrunches up and she picks up the photo.

"If he was such a great fuckin' guy, why'd he leave? Great dads don't fuckin' do that-"

Lola pushes Nikki had enough that he actually falls on his ass, and there's tears in her eyes.

"I get that you're dad's an asshole, Frankie, but-"

"Shut up!" Nikki snaps, scrambling to his feet, expression furious, "you fucking bitch, that's not my name-"

"Don't talk shit about my fucking dad!" Lola steps up to him, her hands braced against his chest, but he catches her wrists before she can shove him again.

"He sounds like a fucking dirtbag!"

"You're the dirtbag; don't take your daddy issues out on me!" Lola doesn't fight his hold, just glares up at him as tears begin to flow down her cheeks. Nikki's mouth is pressed into a thin, unhappy line.

"A dirtbag with daddy issues, and mommy issues; a slut with no standards, no taste, and good hair?" He laughs but it's bitter; he won't let her go, still holding her to him by her wrists. Lola's still crying, face twisted and angry, but she doesn't step back or try and escape his grip, "we're two sides of the same fuckin' coin, Kaitie, and I know from shit dads. If your fuckin' dirtbag dad wasn't there when he could have been, when he should have been, then he's shit." His grip on her hands tightens just a little. "No exceptions. Burn his picture."

The damn bursts and Lola actually wails, presses her forehead to Nikki's chest. He doesn't hug her, his expression is stony as he tries not to think too hard about the moment he found himself in. He'd made Lola cry.

"You look just like him anyways." He's not sure what he means by that, and he's not even sure if Lola registered it.

"I hate you." He hears her sniffle quietly.

"You'll get over it."

It's the worst fight they've had in a while, and Lola pins her father's photo directly to the living room wall out of spite. She stays with Tommy for a few days, but Nikki still doesn't touch the picture.

With Tommy, she actually goes grocery shopping with him, as strangely domestic as it is. They take turns pushing the cart too fast down the aisles while the other rides on the front until Tommy loses control and Lola ends up winded and crushed against the cereal boxes. They try to cook together and almost start a fire, and end up eating pizza that first night Lola stays at the house. Tommy's sofa is excessively big, and they could easily spread out in space of their own, but they enjoy being tangled up with each other while Invasion of the Body Snatchers plays on his brand new TV.

If she never wanted to go back to Nikki, she knows she probably wouldn't have to. They haven't even been living together officially for two days and they're already fighting. Her body clock is fucked, and she contemplates her life at five in the morning, watching the gentle rise and fall of Tommy's chest with his breathing as he sleeps soundly.

She loved Tommy, and she knew he loved her, and the same could be said for Vince, and even Mick, though to a much lesser extent. The point is, if she wanted to keep running from herself, she'd never lack accommodation, she'd never lack love, in one way or another. Doc had once told her that she was very easy to love, when she wanted to be, very easy to be endeared towards when she wasn't spitting acid or starting a fight or kicking up a stink. Even Doc himself admitting to being rather endeared to her, though he clarified that 'it's like the love you have for a rescue animal, a stray you nurse back to health and give to a shelter'. She's smacked him angrily, and told him she was a person. Doc agreed, but his words had stuck with her.

Very easy to love. Very hard to like.

When she gets back to her house, it's almost six, almost sunrise, the house is still mostly empty, and Nikki's awake. The picture's still on the wall, and he's sitting on a deck chair on the balcony with a bottle of Jack for company. The sun rises on the other side of the house, but he's fixated on the ocean.

"His name was Maleko, and my mom's name was Irene."

"I didn't-" he seems confused to see her there at all. But Lola's quick to cut him off.

"Shut up, I'm telling you about my parents," Lola grabbed the bottle from him, sitting cross legged on the cool tiles right by him, looking out at the ocean.

"Why?"

"Because I've know you for years, and it's weird that I haven't told you about my family, okay? You were right." She tipped the bottle back, swallowing hard.

"You look like your dad," Nikki's voice is softer this time, though it's neither positive nor negative, and Lola snorted a laugh.

"Yeah, it was the only part about me mom liked after he left." She inhaled sharply, passing back the bottle, "like I said, his name was Maleko, but from what I can remember, he went by Leo, and I don't know why he left, but he's not a damn dirtbag, okay? He was kinder than my fucking mom ever was, and-" she clenched her jaw, pausing for a moment to search her jacket pockets for her cigarettes, before lighting one, "and listen, I just wanted him to be proud, I just wanted him to smile again, because I swear that motherfucker was made of sunshine." She angrily wiped a tear from her eye before it spilled.

Nikki was quiet for a very long time, didn't know what to say, still up from the night before, and drunk as all hell. He reached out and scratched at Lola's scalp gently, in liu of a reaction. She just laughed.

"Why- why 're you back?" Nikki asked finally.

"Do you like me, Nikki?" She counters with, and Nikki hums a little, still scratching her hair.

"Of course, you're one of the few assholes I can put up with for more than a few days at a time," it's not the highest compliment in the world, but Lola's beaming nonetheless.

"I think I like you too," she snorted. Nikki's stopped scratching her head and is raising the bottle of Jack to his lips, frowning.

"Did we go back to the damn third grade? What's gotten into you?"

The house is undecorated because Nikki says he didn't have the patience to not go into a homicidal rage in IKEA. He won't admit that it felt weird to be buying furniture for their house without Lola. It's decorated mostly in blacks, or dark chestnut wood, and the bedframe is strong enough that Lola won't break it if she's tied up to it, and Lola buys a frame for her father's photo. They buy a new sofa, and Lola feels the strangest, most irrational twinge of guilt, like she's betrayed the sofa they pulled off the curb all those years ago; she tells Nikki and he smirks, offers to buy a box cutter and slash the sofa up to make it feel like home.

"Or we could just fuck on it until it's got just as many stains," he grins, it's all sharp teeth and the promise of a bigger bite.

"Now you're speaking my language," she smirks back, and she grabs his hand, pulls him behind a display bedroom set with a particularly large cupboard. She sucks him off before some underpaid assistant can interrupt them, and he repays the favor in the store's bathroom, and somehow this is the strangest situation they've ever gotten each other off in. Clubs, pubs, hotel pools, closets at TV studios, parks, alley ways, any number of places on tour that Lola honestly doesn't remember - they've got nothing on a furniture store where they're deciding on furnishings for their shared house. Lola doesn't want to think about why that is, so she just enjoys the moment.

It seems like no time at all before they're back in the studio, and so when they're not working, they're drinking, and partying, and using their mansions the way LA mansions often found themselves being used; for parties.

Tommy's out every night in LA, still looking like he could walk on stage at any minute, but he has a few starlets calling him up every so often. If he's not at clubs, he's with the Vince at a strip club, and sometimes Nikki's with them, though Lola's there about as often as Vince. Vince himself got his heart caught on a woman he meets at a club named Sharise, who is lovely and loud and beautiful, and she calls Lola 'sweetheart' without making it sound condescending, even when she's coming out of Vince's mansion and Lola's coming in, both fully aware of the situation at hand.

"I'm pretty sure she doesn't actually know my name," Lola sits on Vince's marble countertops in her underwear, eating grilled cheese in the afternoon. Later, Tommy and a few other guys Lola sort of knows will be around, pregaming before they hit the town. Maybe Sharise will come by, maybe she'll bring friends; Lola likes when she brings friends, finds she likes getting ready to go out with girls, sometimes even more than getting ready with the band.

Back in the present, with Lola on the counter, Vince laughs where he's mixing a bunch of spirits in a fancy glass and calling it a cocktail, even though it seems closer to molotov rather than anything you'd be able to find at a bar.

"Sorry, baby, do you want a formal introduction?" He asks, and offers the drink to Lola to try.

"Needs more Captain Morgan," Lola wrinkled her nose after a hearty gulp, handing it back, "and yeah, maybe, I don't know; you seem pretty serious about her."

"Why've you gotta keep drinking like you're broke, at this point I'm begging you to get better taste," Vince took back his drink with a faux wounded expression, holding it to his chest before he took a tentative sip. Lola's eyes shined with amusement.

"Believe me, lover boy, you don't want me to raise my standards in any way, shape, or form." Her leg comes down from the counter, dangling by the cabinets, and she leans back onto her elbows, cheeky smile on her lips as she poses, a challenging look in her eyes.

"Ouch," Vince snorts, but he's clearly not hurt by her words as he leans in and kisses her. When he pulls back, however, he's more contemplative than Lola's used to seeing him, and he sips his drink again before letting his thoughts form words; "I mean, yeah, Sharise-" he pauses, "there's just something about her, dude, she's hot and sweet and fuck, she's got a real bite to her-"

"Of course, you wouldn't like her half as much if she wasn't at least a little bit mean to you," Lola teased.

"Watch it, it's the only reason I keep you around anymore," Vince fires back with a smirk, and though they both know it's not true, Lola plays along.

"Oi! I also give fantastic head."

Sharise is going to be around for a while, and she and Lola get along well enough, so Vince will walk that tightrope as long as he possibly can.

Lola splits her time between houses, between her partners, although occasionally Tommy will spend the night with her and Vince, or her and Nikki, though Nikki's never been one to take the initiative the way the others would. Both Vince and Nikki's places have a piano, while Tommy has a keyboard in his studio, and Lola finds herself playing more and more.

For a while, for a good, long while, Lola thinks she might be happy. She finds herself taking less pills, if only to clear her head enough to remember how to play her favourite songs, though she's still drinking rum like it's water, and taking more coke than any reasonable person probably should.

It won't last, this feeling, this contentment, she knows it won't last, but right now, she's playing Elton John, watching the sun set over the Ocean, while Nikki applies his eyeliner in the bathroom, and Vince is singing along where he's eating Chinese food in the kitchen with Tommy. Someone rings the doorbell, and she can hear more cars pulling up, and there's a strange, warm pride that fills her chest.

[kiraraneko]

CATS as reviewed by a furry

Apparently this is a movie review blog now lmao (listen I just have some Opinions™ I feel like writing down lately) You’ve already heard from a hundred sources about the terrible CGI and bad quality of the film overall, so I’m going to focus more on the characters themselves and how they’ve been translated from stage to film. As someone whose been a fan of CATS since childhood AND is active in the furry community, I hope this will be different from the other reviews. (YES THERE ARE SPOILERS)

Let’s just start this off by saying - everyone who keeps comparing this film to “furry porn” clearly is not familiar with furry porn, because the alleged “hornyness” of the actor portrayals is pretty in-line with the stage play. The only reason this movie comes off as so much more sexual is because the bad fur CGI doesn’t keep your brain from knowing these people are all basically nude. The stage play costumes feature fur tufts and limb wraps that work to somewhat hide the human silhouettes, whereas (even with some characters in coats and accessories) everyone’s fur in the movie is so skin-tight they end up being unmistakably human, so every sway and hip-thrust comes off as slightly disturbing in an uncanny way instead of feline and graceful.

Victoria the White Cat Now here’s where I’ll admit to my blatant bias - Victoria has always been my favorite cat (other than Rum Tum). Here’s a bit of trivia for you: Ever wonder why my fursona is a white cat? (Jumpcut to me as an 8 year old wearing a scarf around my waist, pretending to be Victoria). Her role in the play is small but she’s elegant, beautiful, and an incredibly talented dancer, and I always idolized her for that. So, you can imagine I was pretty delighted to find that she plays the role of “main character” in the film. Now in the play, the cats explain to the audience about who and what they are, with Munkustrap (the grey tabby) serving as a kind of narrator/translator and leader. Since you can’t exactly address a stage audience in a movie, Victoria fills that role of the “questioning onlooker”, which I feel fits her character very well considering she’s both a younger/newer cat to the Jellicle scene and she was the first to accept Grizabella, which connects her nicely to the entire story (both in the play and the movie). What I was markedly less jazzed about was the addition of her own song in the movie. I think it was a nice attempt to expand her role, but as an extension to Memories, I found Beautiful Ghosts to be frankly kind of boring and unnecessary. She’s essentially saying to Grizabella “I was just abandoned and I don’t have anything, at least you have good memories to look back on” which to me, came off as belittling to Grizabella with a dash of “poor me” for Victoria. However, the reprise version with Old Deuteronomy I actually ended up liking much more. It is less condescending when two old cats are singing to one another, versus a kitten who has their whole life ahead of them lecturing Grizabella about a past she knows nothing about. One last thing I’ll note about Victoria is her slight re-design in the movie - she’s been given some light striping patterning as opposed to being a pure white cat. This doesn’t bother me at all as I assume when it comes to lighting and rendering, pure white fur would have been too distracting on screen. Jennyanydots / The Gumbie Cat I’ll just come right out and say that this segment was probably the worst translation from the play in the entire movie, and it happens early in the film, so you’re already questioning what the hell the rest of the movie is going to be like. In the play, she’s a slow-paced and motherly type cat that only becomes energetic at night, when she sheds her fur to reveal a vibrant coat and goes to work teaching vermin of the house good manners and skills like crocheting (as opposed to hunting them, like other cats would do). In the movie, she’s flitting about the kitchen like a hyperactive rabbit, rampantly consumes some of the insects she’s painstakingly coached, and whines about wishing to leave her household. If this butchering of her character weren’t enough, they actually included the fur-shedding bit in an incredibly disturbing skin-unzipping sequence where she steps out of her cat skin to reveal a sparkly dress underneath. Characters in the CATS play occasionally do wear some clothing accessories, but this movie does not know the meaning of subtlety, and various characters are wearing fullbody clothes which even further breaks any illusion of these characters being cats. It just constantly wants to remind you that these are human people in unitards jumping around on a greenscreen. Rum Tum Tugger Undoubtedly a fan favorite, Rum Tum is the rockstar cat who swoons all the kittens and makes a general ruckus, with stylistic influences of Mick Jagger and Elvis. To say the least, I thought his part in the movie was fine, but certainly doesn’t quite have the punch to it that the stage play does. The movie has him breaking into a 50′s style diner while milk is liberally poured for all the younger cats. Both his character and that of the Gumbie cat’s are diminished further as she makes fun of his singing and dance moves - which may have been a funny addition, if it weren’t for her alleging his show-offiishness to a recent neutering. This joke just went a little too far in my opinion, and really detracted from the rest of Rum Tum’s performance. Bustopher Jones A very charming and gentlemanly cat, Bustopher’s sequence started well and then just got really weird. His song prominently describes his love of fine dining, his cheerful demeanor, and his well-groomed fur. The last of which was directly contradicted in the movie, as he rolled around in actual garbage making an utter mess of himself. He’s shown gorging himself through the entire segment with increasing fervor, until it’s just a bit too much to bear witness to. At one point, he’s meant to trapeze into a trash can, but the cat who jumps on the other end of the catapult is markedly smaller, and nothing happens. This is actually quite a funny moment, until once again, the joke goes a little too far and Bustopher comments being “sensitive about his weight”. This is just.. a bizarre comment considering he’s sung an entire song about being charmingly large and we’ve just watched him unabashedly stuff his face for five solid minutes. Applying human weight-shaming to the ideals of a cat is just completely unnecessary, awkward, and contradictory to his character. It changes him from an indulgent but experienced chap into something to be pitied. Asparagus / Gus the Theatre Cat Possibly my favorite segment of the movie, this is the only part I actually teared up at. As a child, I always thought Gus was a very boring character with a boring part, but watching as an adult I can understand and appreciate him much better. Sir Ian McKellen did an absolutely phenomenal job of channeling the frail, endearing, proud character of Gus (despite the wonky camera work of the scene). This might be the only part of the movie that matched, or perhaps even exceeded the stage play version, and I don’t think it’s any surprise that it also happens to be the most subdued sequence, relying almost entirely on character acting and line delivery, instead of fancy effects cluttering up the screen (as this musical should be). The end of his storytelling features some “lightning strikes” for emphasis, created by what I imagine would be a simple shadow stencil, and it added some genuine atmosphere to the idea of Gus as a performer with simple stage effects. It was a nice subtle touch, and I only wish the rest of the movie could have been more like that. I found his line condemning “modern productions” to be more poignant than ever before, and it makes you wonder if this movie suddenly became painfully self-aware.  Also I just want to throw this in: Before Gus’s song, there’s an unintentionally hilarious shot of Mr. Mistoffelees walking up on him drinking milk from a dish, except Gus is mostly in shadow with his cat features obscured and is standing fully upright, so he just appears to be a hobo man lapping at a dish, like someone legit just walked up on Ian McKellen being a complete fucking weirdo.  Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer This segment was another one that just didn’t come across quite right. These two are mischievous partners in crime, causing mayhem and stealing treasures. The '98 film version characterizes them as playful and upbeat, delighting in trouble-making, but they don’t seem to be quite experienced or clever enough to get away 100% of the time. The 2019 version came off as almost.. sinister to me. They coerce Victoria into stealing, frame her, and then leave her to what could nearly be her death, all while sort of talking through their lines with a cold inflection. This is supposed to take after the original “languid” London version, but they don’t play off each other very well and you don’t get a sense of the fun, amusing partnership they’re supposed to have. It’s mostly just watching them destroy several rooms of a house and then leaving Victoria to her fate like utter assholes. I don’t really have anything more to say on these two, it was just kind of bland and forgetful and leaves you disliking them instead of enjoying watching them have a fun romp. Skimbleshanks the Railway Cat I would give Skimbleshanks the award for “most baffling redesign”. As mentioned earlier, this movie takes cats-wearing-clothing to an uncanny level, and this is certainly the uncanny-est. While the play version has him in a cute waistcoat and arm warmers with elbow patches to give a “train conductor” vibe, the movie has him in full bright red overalls, with other reviews calling him “gay nightclub Mario”, lmao! As much as I wanted to enjoy this number, the sight of him was just too weird to look past.  The tap dancing during his skit was a fitting addition to his character - he is quite bouncy and light on his feet, so I thought it suited him very well and really liked that part. His song picks up after that, with all the cats dancing on the rail and there’s more weird camera work, at one point zooming out so ridiculously far it’s actually jarring. The rest of his song was okay, a CGI greenscreen that can do anything you want unfortunately just isn’t as creative and inspiring as watching actors build a train engine representation out of junkyard scraps on an actual stage.  Magical Mr. Mistoffelees The movie really took some liberties with this character, and I’m still on the fence about whether it was a good choice or not. In the play, Mistoffelees is a magician cat, performing tricks through his segment (including the most complex dance routine of any character) while other cats usually sing about his feats (in the ‘98 film, it’s Rum Tum). They went for the younger, unsure version of Mistoffelees in this new movie, and doubled up on it by turning him into something of a comedic-relief character. He doesn’t quite have a handle on his magic, and he trips up on his words and his feet several times through the movie. This would have been fine if his musical number hadn’t been such a let down. This is supposed to be his grand moment, but his “magic” ends up being underwhelming and the chorus repeats for SO long you’re practically begging for it to end. Where “Oh! Well, I never! Was there ever a cat so clever as Magical Mr Mistoffelees?” was once a cheerful and upbeat line, it will certainly become a droning echo in your mind after watching this movie. The added plot of his implied attraction to Victoria I also found kind of weird, though I’ll admit that might just be my personal tastes. I always liked Mistoffelees being a more aloof kind of cat.  Grizabella / The Glamour Cat Alright buckle in, I’ve got some strong opinions about this one. Grizabella is undeniably the star of CATS - she’s an incredibly emotional character, visually intriguing, and her performance in the musical is nothing short of heartbreaking. She was referred to as “the Glamour Cat” in her prime, but it has turned into an almost mocking title as the other cats reject and shun her. We never really know why, but it can be implied she may have been cold and elitist to the other cats who once adored her, or had some other tragic and sudden fall from grace. Despite Jennifer Hudson putting in a damn good effort to play the role of this character, the movie itself let her down. The CATS play and the Jellicle ball which it centers around, while being a musical, is foremost a ball in which cats perform for the honor of being chosen. The dancing is just as important as the singing, and Grizabella’s character is heavily communicated by her posture. She’s hunched, stiff and limping, reaching out for others to accept her, and at one point even attempts to mimic some of the other cat’s dance moves before slinking away in shame. The 2019 movie paradoxically chooses to use extremely tight face-shots for just about every character routine. It is frustrating and claustrophobic to watch a movie where cats who are supposed to be expressing their character through movement are shown from only the shoulders up, just standing there singing into a camera - and this frustration is paramount at the Grizabella sequences.  Jennifer Hudson, singing her absolute heart out with tears pouring down her face, is still emotionally lacking because of the terrible cinematography refusing to show her doing any actual acting. I was so distracted by the mucus running down her face that I couldn’t even connect with her. I thought the costuming of Grizabella was very well done, but you barely got to see any of it. Overall a very disappointing performance, because Hudson was doing all the right things, and it could have been great if the movie had met her even halfway. Macavity the Mystery Cat Played by the incredible Idris Elba, Macavity underwent some heavy changes and expansion in this new movie. He’s the main antagonist of the play, and most of his antics like committing serious crimes and alluding the police are sung about as rumors but doesn’t himself sing, and actually doesn’t have any speaking lines in the play, adding to his mysterious character. When he eventually appears, he battles with Munkustrap and steals Deuteronomy (who is brought back by Mistoffelees). Macavity is usually depicted with vibrant clashing colors, wild hair, and uses quick threatening movements, while the Idris Elba version rein-visioned him as extremely sleek, black-furred, and sly and cunning, often emerging from the shadows to tempt other cats with their vices. He is given numerous speaking lines, and his villainy is expanded on as he kidnaps the other cats in an attempt to be the chosen Jellicle. I actually quite like this interpretation of the character, and it makes him a little more relatable instead of the vicious enigma he is in the play.  Something of note is just how literally the new movie took the rumors of Macavity’s powers. His abilities, which were muted and used sparingly in the play, were used constantly and without hesitation in this movie. He spends most of his time teleporting other characters and creating illusions, but then uses trickery to try and win the Jellicle ball, and fails to demonstrate his power of levitation when it really matters. So whether he does or doesn’t have real powers seems to be.. situational to say the least. Another thing I want to point out is just how uncomfortably sudden Macavity’s reveal is. He spends most of the movie in the shadows hidden under an oversized coat and hat, and then suddenly appears at the Jellicle ball without any disguise on whatsoever. Idris Elba is a damn fine looking dude, and you can clearly see his very human-shaped abs beneath his sleek Macavity fur, which is so close to his actual skintone that I’ve seen him described as “extra naked” and it’s pretty accurate. You just really aren’t prepared for this moment when it happens. Growltiger This guy is a rough and rowdy pirate-esque character with a dramatic love life. His segment was cut from the ‘98 film, so seeing the play in person is just about the only way to experience it. Because of this, it’s probable that many people may not even be aware of this character, so I was pretty excited to hear that he would be featured in the 2019 movie. Growltiger is quite overdue for his time in the mainstream spotlight. Turns out, unfortunately, Growltiger's Last Stand is not what you get. His appearance in the movie is more or less a cameo with a short introduction, and the rest of the time he’s serving as Macavity‘s henchman in the background. This is based on the 2015 revival of him as a dock worker, but I feel it was a weak representation of his character, and really wish he’d been shown in a better light. The movie cuts out pretty much every fight scene, and Growltiger‘s would have been dramatic and fun to watch, especially after Gus’s reminiscing. Instead, he was kind of lazily thrown into a river by Gus, who previously bragged about playing the role of Growltiger on stage, which is kind of an interesting juxtaposition if you don’t think about it too hard. Old Deuteronomy A surprising change was the decision to make Deuteronomy female, played by Judi Dench. I love old grandpa Deuteronomy, but this didn’t really bother me. Deuteronomy is a wise, beloved leader of the Jellicles and there’s not really anything integral about the character that says they couldn’t be female. Deuteronomy carries himself with dignity, but isn’t afraid to dance along with the songs of the other more lively cats, and Judi Dench certainly has an air of authority and respect about her. The character’s songs are reflective and thought-provoking, but once again, the 2019 movie fails to make any of these sequences actually entertaining. The absolute worst part of the entire movie comes at the very end, when Deuteronomy makes horrific, unblinking eye contact with the camera, and slowly talks her way through the Ad-Dressing of Cats. This is absolutely bewildering considering how the movie deliberately sets up Victoria as a main character in place of the audience, only to completely chuck that out the window of a moving car just to break the 4th wall in the most uncomfortable way possible and directly address the audience anyway. What is even the point? I can’t imagine there’s a single person that would watch that and be okay with it. The Ad-Dressing of Cats is supposed to be a cute, fun little recap of everything the cats supposedly taught you, but this movie made it feel like a lecturing stare-down. Other notes The Awefull Battle of the Pekes and the Pollicles was cut entirely from the movie, which is fine because it isn’t integral to the story or anything, considering it was also cut from the stage play when I saw it live. I kind of shudder to think of how The Great Rumpus Cat would have been interpreted in this movie, so I think we were all probably spared some indignities.  While this movie was watchable and certainly an interesting take on the play, it creatively added very little and only succeeded in making me desperately want to go watch the ‘98 musical. I thought at least this movie would be a fun soundtrack to view, but many of the songs just didn’t have the punchiness, joy, charm, or energy that I’m used to. There were parts of it that I liked enough to say this isn’t the worst movie I’ve ever seen, but that’s not exactly a glowing review. From the perspective of a theatre fan and a furry: If I want to see CATS, I’m most certainly going to choose the filmed musical over this new movie any day.  I’m infinitely more charmed by the graceful 80′s style dancers of the play than I am by the uncanny valley, painfully human cat-people of the new movie (and honestly I haven’t seen a single piece of fanart for it, so that really tells you all you need to know).

[tellywoodtrash]

Sanjivani - Weeks 7 + 8

Overall Plot

Sid and Ishani are about 10 minutes away from hardcore Love. And literally every single person knows and is rooting for it (including the security guards at Sanjivani/Ishani’s apartment complex!!!!!), except the two idiots themselves. Shashank is still dealing with the fallout of the thing with Juhi and the admin issues stemming from their unresolved issues, but small mercies, his relationship with Anjali seems to be looking up. Nurse Philo's daughter Jessica has been admitted mere days before her wedding and found to have a terminal illness and it's heartbreaking as fuck.

The Medical Stuff

Lol, does Ishani's "sickness" count? She's pretty convinced that she's dying of something serious, the way she was charting her symptoms and kept getting diagnostic test after diagnostic test, so I think it should. Glad she's finally gotten a diagnosis and the prognosis looks promising! Other than that, Nandini got operated on successfully by the Shashank-Juhi team, and the only active case we have is Jessica's Stage IV cancer. But I think that's going to focus more on the emotional side of things (getting her the dream wedding she wants), since it's at such an advanced stage that it wouldn't respond to treatment anyway.

The Acting

Thank the lord above, they have started giving Surbhi comedy to do, which is where she really shines as an actor. Namit is most excellent at heart eyes, and his crying has improved from the first few weeks; dialogue delivery still needs to be more polished though. Jason and Kunal are being used effectively by giving them hilarious, snarky scenes while they drill some sense into Ishani/Sid. Robin is still pretty much in the background other than to pop up and deliver the occasional wisecrack. Very sad to see Rashmi go, she'd really won my heart as Asha. The seniors got to ease up on the angsty scenes these weeks and I'm grateful for that; it's nice to see them loosen up a bit and smile and joke around. Special mention to Vedika Bhandari as Jessica, who's just ridiculously adorable and sooooooo likable, that I already am having trouble at the thought of letting her character go.

The Characters

Sid: MY DUDES, I DID NOT EXPECT TO FALL THIS HARD FOR SIDDHANT FUCKING MATHUR, BUT WELP, HERE WE ARE. I honestly cannot believe that this boy exists on Tellywood. Where to even start with him in these two weeks? How much younger than his years he seems when he was imploring his mom to stay to meet Shashank; his heart eyes when he wakes up to see Ishani first thing next morning (after waiting to see her the whole night!!!); his bashfulness at all the love he's getting from the whole hospital staff; his good-natured humoring of Ishani's weird behaviour... He's just so unassuming and Soft. I can't really recall seeing this lovable a male lead in tellywood in forever (all I can think of is Hussain K. characters in the early 2000s, in Krishna Arjun and Kumkum and all.) But by no means is Sid a pushover who tolerates any kind of BS. He rightfully rips Rishabh to shreds when he tries to discredit his relationship with Ishani, and understandably calls Ishani out on her nonsense when she's evading her duties, but in a decent way. There is some against-the-wall-caging (because Tellywood), but in a non-threatening manner; he maintains an appropriate distance, does not touch her, and while he does talk in a raised voice due to frustration, never does it veer into yelling that feels dangerous, and he repeatedly asks her if he said or did anything that's making her uncomfortable to be around him. I found it a little strange that he was so vehemently in denial of his feelings for Ishani in last week's episodes, because he seemed to readily accept after his conversation with Guddu Mama (“Halwa banaa ke leke jaaoon? Usko achcha lagega?" with the most hopeful smile; calling Ishani a "bohut hi pyaari si princess" to her face and specifying that he specifically made the halwa for her "pyaaaaar se", being open to the idea of marrying Ishani when Nurse Philo/Jessica jokingly suggest it....) but I guess it would be pretty incongruous for him to instantly fall hard for Ishani AND recognize it, with his past as a "player". So I like that they brought in one of his flings to contrast how different his feelings for Ishani are compared to the other girls he's dated; and subsequently how he's processing his many emotions about the situation. Most of all, I love that his feelings for Ishani don't hamper him from doing his job right; instead they just make him more sensitive to understanding her and making her feel good in any capacity that he can. He came all the way over to her house to apologize for making her cry, AND MADE HER PARATHAS!!!!!!! He slept over, but respectfully all scooched up on her tiny couch! What a goddamn Good Boi. Also, him crying over Jessica's diagnosis? Heart-fucking-breaking. We should all be so lucky to find a doctor who cares about his patients THIS much.

Ishani (or lol as Guddu Mama calls her, "Pareshaani"): I really was expecting the absolute worst with this "Ishani has Loveria" track. And it did not start out well; almost 3 whole episodes were just her puerile lovesick imagination waale music videos and that goddamn CGI titli and I was just like jfc whyyyyyyyyyy. BUT THEN!!!!!!! They finally started showing us the funny side of Ishani, and it's succeeded in making the character lovably kooky, instead of just unpleasant to be around. Her panic attack in the bathroom where she legit thinks she's having a stroke and tries to literally shake off the crush, making all the first year residents repeatedly do ECGs on her, her awkwardness around Sid, the rant where she bemoans falling in love with Sid of all people, her child-like crying to Asha when Sid finally gives her a dressing down for acting idiotic ("Mujhe ITNA daanta! ITNAAAA! Aur unprofessional bhi bola! *violently stabbing finger in the air* UNPROFESSIONAL!!!!!!!!"); all of it was just hilarious as fuck. We're finally seeing the endearing side of Ishani's addled personality. I'm also very glad she got the much-required wakeup call from Sid/Asha, that she's being very unprofessional by running away from her duties, and hopefully from here on, she'll be learn to focus on her job, even with Sid's distracting presence. She's also made quite a bit of progress when it comes to her germophobia; but realistically: it's only with Sid (and Asha) - the two people she's really close to; she's still seen being touch-averse with the rest, but slowly getting better; letting children touch her, offering to shake hands with Jessica and Jignesh, etc.

Asha & Aman: I'm super bummed that Rashmi is being replaced as Asha, because she was honestly so good in the role; cheerful and hilarious in most of her scenes, gentle and sensitive with Ishani, helping her out as much as she can with this inconvenient crush... It's not an easy role, with the accent and all. I hope this new actress is as competent as Rashmi, who always highlighted the humour but without making the accent the punchline; it was always the things she said and how she chooses to word it. It's an important distinction, to not make the regional background into a caricature.

Aman is Aman as usual, lol; vicariously getting kicks thanks to the shenanigans of everyone around. Also, to my surprise, Aman and Asha live together! They offer up their place for a party for Sid; when Ishani freaks out that the cake he ordered isn't Sid's favt. flavour, Aman just shrugs "Meri Asha ko butterscotch pasand hai." I still don't really know what his equation with Asha is, but whatever it is, I love it. Asha's a self-sufficient girl, but it's obvious that Aman feels really protective of her and wants to see her happy always. I really hope the new actress maintains this ambiguous chemistry with Robin too, till the writers decide what direction they wanna take this relationship in.

Dialogue of the Week: Asha [walking in on Ishani holding a sleeping Sid's hand]: Abbe! Humaare saamne toh badi "garma"phobic bani ghoomti hai, ab dekho Dr. Sid ke saath kaise touchy-wouchy ho rahi hai!!!!!!!!!!!

Rishabh: Fucking asshole. He Tried, but he's no match for the razor sharp wit of Sid, or Asha's jugaadu skills to relieve an overworked Ishani. Chal dafa ho, be! Manhoos kahinka.

Neil: He's really really enjoying Sid and Ishani's crushes on each other, taking the mick out of both of them at any given opportunity. I truly lmao-ed when he was seriously examining Ishani for an illness on her insistence and then eye-rollingly dismisses her with "Kuch nahi hua hai tumhe." Cutest snark bean.

Rahil: MY ACTUAL FAVE. Lmao, if Ishani’s got her little purple titli, then Rahil is Sid’s grownass plaid-shirt-wearing TITLA, who appears outta nowhere to serve up piping hot sass at his confused dumbassery. His acerbic, plain-speak snark seems to be the only language Sid understands (as opposed to the first years' gleeful teasing, or the good-natured ribbing of elders like Shashank and Philo and Guddu Mama), and him having to exasperatedly explain things to his boss-who-is-also-his-bff is just hilarious. I relish every single scene he appears in to the max! Also props to him for giving us the gem "same level ke ajeeb" as the OTP tag for SidIsha!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Shashank: A much better fortnight for Dr. Shashank! Two of his idiot babies are very obviously in love (that scene of Ishani showing him her reports and describing the butterfly through pantomime though, lmao) and now his relationship with Anjali is defrosting (the exchange about the surgeon she was interested in and how he wants grandkids from her??? The cutest!!!!) Things still remain frosty with Juhi though, and I don't understand why he won't just address the issue and clarify things in a straightforward manner, instead of dragging it out like this and making it awkward with his COS/mentee. Anyway, good on him for getting that win on Vardhan, but I feel like he needs to stop being so damn stubborn on his issues without giving reasons. It’s not helping matters around here, personally or professionally.

Juhi: Literally the classiest female professional on TV??????? She hasn't stopped holding Shashank accountable for how he sabotaged her career, but I love that she has sorted it out enough to work with him, but also engages in minor acts of pettiness like gleefully scraping his car with hers, cheekily grinning and apologizing saying she needed to get out some of the angst before they operated on a patient together. For what it's worth, I was fully on her side during the argument with Shashank about the machines for the hospital; it sounded like a good deal, but of course, she should have had the foresight to know Vardhan would try to do some kinda fuckery. She’s right in not really trusting Shashank anymore, but needs to be a little more prudent with how she proceeds while making decisions for Sanjivani. In a way, it’s really sad how she doesn’t really have any allies at her level. Shashank was the only one she could really rely on, and he went and blew that relationship up, and now she’s kinda adrift in the organization. I hope Shashank does good by her and repairs the relationship.

Anjali: Phew, finally a good break for Anjali. I'm ecstatic. She's realized that Vardhan's manipulating her and broken free of his gaslighting nonsense. She's much smarter than both Shashank and Vardhan thought she was and yes sis, play them both!!!!!!! She got her COS post, but also isn't playing by Vardhan's rules. Ultimate winner! But does she also have some romantic feelz for V? Coz that last scene between them had very intimate vibes, from the way she walked into his office and knew where the booze was, to her pouring him a glass and casually lounging against the wall like a wife/girlfriend would. She wasn't even really fazed when he grabbed her; either she's a hella strong woman who cannot be trifled with, or she's familiar with this side of him. I really hope it's the former coz she deserves someone who's a grown up version of Sid (*cough* Atul Joshi *cough*) who's super good and healthy for her, not this deceitful fuckwad.

Vardhan: What is his deal? No honestly, does he have some kinda personal stake in saving Sanjivani from financial ruin? It seems so, with how overwrought and devastated he seemed at Shashank exposing the machine waala scam. Also, the way he manhandled Anjali? Unforgivable. Die in a fire, scum.

Rahul: Still haven't seen him but apparently he's hiding in that secret room in the luxury ward? What the everloving experimental fuck is he doing with pregnant women who look to be unable to afford medical care? Nothing ethical, that's for sure. I have a feeling this will maybe tie up to Ishani's parents waala plot, but for the meanwhile, jfc, just reveal yourself man, coz this shit is getting scary as fuck the longer you go unseen.

Overall Rating: 5/5

[lastbluetardis]

Chemical Potential (8/11)

Summary: Slightly homesick and stressed about her abysmal chemistry grade, Rose Tyler meets quirky James Smith, the boy who sits in front of her in their chemistry class. They become fast friends as James makes it his personal mission to help Rose get through the semester.

Ten x Rose University AU

This chapter: ~5200 words, teen

Notes: This was written for the lovely @thegreenfairy13 as part of the @dwsecretsanta gift exchange. Also tagging @doctorroseprompts.

I foresee about two or three more chapters after this one.

AO3 | Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | epilogue

“Hey Mick! Come on in!”

Rose moved back and let her oldest friend step through the threshold into her flat. He was in town for a conference, and had promised to stop by for a visit before flying back to New York.

The scent of grease, cheese, and bread wafted from the large cardboard box in his hands, making her stomach gurgle hungrily.

“Make yourself comfy,” she said, taking the pizza box from him to set on her cluttered kitchen table. “S’cuse the mess.”

Rose grabbed plates from her cabinet, then opened her fridge for two bottles of beer. After she and Mickey plated their pizza, they sank onto her couch.

“How have you been, babe?” he asked, knocking his knee against hers. “How are you enjoying America?”

“I’m good,” Rose answered. She took a bite of pizza but winced when the hot cheese and sauce scalded the roof of her mouth. “America is fine, I suppose. Different from London, but I like it.”

“And school?” he prompted.

“It’s… okay,” she said carefully. “I’m taking a chemistry class. Stupidest decision of my life. I’m rubbish at it. But my other classes are all right, I s’pose. I’ve only got one art class. Well, I mean, I’m also in an art history class, but I don’t particularly count that. My art class is a painting class, which isn’t really my specialty, but I like it well enough.”

“What have you been working on?” Mickey said, slouching back against the sofa. He took a lazy swig from his beer, then used the bottle to point to Rose’s opened but sleeping laptop which was perched atop various loose papers and her sketchpad.

“I was touching up a few photos before you arrived,” she answered vaguely.

“Can I see?”

Rose bit her lip. Mickey had always supported her art. While she knew he thought it was a difficult career path to try to follow, he’d never voiced his doubts aloud. He was always game for taking a look at her work, especially if she was trying a new technique.

But she knew that James would be the only thing he’d see on her computer screen. The two of them had gone on a walk during a sudden snow squall a few days ago, and Rose had taken photos of him and the two of them walking around the snowy campus. The snow hadn’t lasted longer than a day, but it had been beautiful as it came down.

“Oh, come on,” Mickey goaded. “You’ve never been shy before.”

“Shut up,” Rose said lightly, smacking his thigh.

“Were you working with a nude model?” he teased.

“Shut up!” she said again, laughing. “No, I haven’t worked with a nude model.” She gave him a sly smile. “That’s not ‘til I get to the advanced courses.”

“Well then, lemme see,” he said.

Rose bit back a sigh and stood up to grab her laptop. She woke it up, logged in, then pulled up the photos she’d been touching up. The first one made her heart squeeze. James had his head tilted back, his eyes squeezed shut, and his mouth wide open as he caught snowflakes on his tongue. It was a close-up shot; bits of snow clung to his lashes and she could easily see the smattering of freckles across his cheeks and nose. He was utterly beautiful.

The next photo was of James crouching beside a mini-snowman he’d made. It had taken him ten minutes to scrape up enough snow to build the six-inch-tall snowman. Nevertheless, he was beaming proudly as he squatted beside his creation.

“And who’s this?” Mickey asked, raising an eyebrow at her when he realized her subject was the same man.

Her cheeks burned as she muttered, “James.”

“And who’s James?”

“Nobody,” she lied. “A kid in my chemistry class. He’s helping me study.”

Mickey stifled his grin around a swig of beer. “Uh huh. Sure babe. ‘Cos study buddies definitely go on snowy walks together.”

Rose’s face was on fire, but she couldn’t quite get the denial out. She knew she and James were more than friends. Well. She felt more than friendship towards him. But she still didn’t know where he stood, or what he thought or felt about her.

The buzzing of her phone gave her the distraction she desperately desired. It vibrated again, then again. The texts came through in rapid-fire succession that immediately told her it was James. It was endearing that he sent a series of back-to-back texts rather than one long message.

A smile crossed her lips when she saw his name on her phone, then she read his texts and her smile grew after each one.

Hey! Hope you’re having fun with your mate. Sorry if I’m interrupting. Ignore me ‘til you’re free, if you want.

But I’ve got a question. Well. An invitation. Thanksgiving is the week after next.

I know you’re not American and probably don’t give two shits. But still, when in Rome, y’know.

Anyway, I was gonna have a few mates ‘round my place for dinner. Mates who live far enough away that they aren’t going home for the break.

Turkey and potatoes and stuffing and veggies and pie. Basically it’s Christmas, Part One. Gluttonous Americans.

Oh, the dessert-y pie btw.

There’s gonna be loads of food.

What d’you say Rose Tyler?

“Is that him then?”

Rose jolted, then her cheeks flamed. She’d forgotten she wasn’t alone, and she was painfully aware that she had the daftest grin on her face.

“Maybe,” she said. She grabbed her bottle of beer and took a long pull from it, hoping the motion would help get rid of her smile.

“What’d he want?”

“To invite me to Thanksgiving dinner in two weeks,” she said. Mickey waggled his eyebrows, and she reached over and pinched his arm. “He invited several people, Micks.”

She turned back to her phone and typed, “That sounds great! Count me in!”

Woohoo!!

Then he sent three grinning emojis and three thumbs-up. She smiled and sent back, “Can’t wait! I’m excited to see what the hype is all about.”

“You really love him, don’t you?”

Rose whipped her head around to face her friend, who was watching her closer than she was comfortable with.

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” she mumbled, but her voice was thin. “We’re just mates.”

But Mickey was looking at her dubiously, and Rose didn’t bother to deny it again.

“Have you told him?”

“Course not,” she scoffed.

“How come?”

“Because what if he doesn’t feel the same way? Or what if he turns out to be another Jimmy?” That was her biggest fear. She was already so in love with James, even more than she’d been with Jimmy. It was exhilarating and terrifying. The stakes seemed much greater this time, and she knew that if things went badly with James, it would hurt even worse than last time.

“Has he given any indication that he’s a lying, cheating wanker?”

“Well, no, but neither did Jimmy at first,” Rose argued. But she couldn’t picture James becoming like Jimmy. She was sure there were warning signs with Jimmy, but her stupid teenaged self had been too besotted and naive to see them. She knew better now, and yet James wasn’t showing any signs of being anything other than his adorable, goofy, kind, lovable self.

“Are you gonna go through life assuming the worst about people?” Mickey asked carefully. “That’s not the Rose Tyler I knew.”

“You knew the Rose Tyler who didn’t have her heart broken,” she sighed.

Mickey gave her an appraising look. “You’ve got it bad,” he said softly. “For someone who’s insisting you’re ‘just friends’.”

Rose sighed as she began gnawing at her thumb cuticle.

“Maybe a bit,” she admitted. “He’s just… he’s amazing, Mick.”

“Then why haven’t you snogged him yet?” Mickey asked.

“We’ve gone over this,” Rose huffed. “Jimmy sort of put a sour taste in my mouth regarding relationships.”

“That son of a bitch wins if you let yourself be miserable and alone. Do you really want to be moping about that wanker when he’s out there shagging that bimbo he left you for?” Rose winced. “Sorry, babe. But you know what I mean.”

“Yeah. And no, I don’t. I’m not miserable, Mickey. And I’m not lonely.” She hissed as she bit her cuticle down too far and it began to bleed. “I just… what if it doesn’t work? Or what if he’s not attracted to me and things get awkward. He’s my best mate. Apart from you, of course,” she added hastily when Mickey let out a grunt of protest. “I love being around him, and I love our friendship. I don’t want that to go away.”

“Have you ever considered the idea that he’s as in love with you as you are with him?” Mickey asked.

“I… no, not really. Because that means getting my hopes up.”

“What wrong with that?” Mickey shrugged. “Rose, I know you’re scared of being hurt again. I know. But think about what you might be losing. Eh? What if you’re both in love with each other and are perfect together? Remember how happy you were with Jimmy in the beginning? Imagine that, but deeper. And forever.”

“Being with Martha has made you soft,” Rose teased, even as a lump lodged itself in her throat.

“Oi, don’t knock it,” Mickey said, jabbing his elbow into her ribs. “Being in love is the best thing that’s happened to me. I want that for you, too, Rose. I want to see you happy.”

“I am happy,” she stressed.

“I want to see you happier,” he amended.

Rose loosed a long, low breath. “I never thought I’d see the day when Mickey Smith gave me dating advice.”

Mickey chuckled, but sensed that Rose was done with the conversation, and stood up for another beer.

He stayed for another few hours before calling a taxi to take him back to his hotel room.

Even after Mickey had long gone, his parting piece of advice still rang in her head. Instead of imagining the worst-case scenario, imagine the best.

oOoOo

Rose was eager to go to her chemistry lecture on Monday morning. She hadn’t talked with James much over the weekend, between hanging out with Mickey and working a ten-hour shift at the grocery store on Sunday.

But when she sat down for class, James was nowhere to be found. He didn’t stroll in at the last minute, like he sometimes did, and when she checked her phone after the period was over, there were no texts from him letting her know he wouldn’t be in.

She headed to the library to pass the time until her noontime class, and when she sank into a plush sofa, she pulled out her phone and sent James a message.

“I hope everything’s all right.”

She spent the next fifteen minutes opening and closing various apps, waiting anxiously for James to reply. It wasn’t like him to go suddenly silent.

Yeah. Fine. Why?

She exhaled with relief.

“You weren’t in class today.”

Am I not allowed to skip class just because I feel like it? I didn’t realize I needed your permission. Or to check in with you.

Rose started, then her chest caved at his un-James-like rudeness.

“Of course you can. Sorry. Didn’t mean to nag.”

Tears burned behind her lids and she pressed her palms to them. The last thing she wanted to do was break down in the library. But she was self-conscious and upset by James’s behavior.

Towards the end of their ill-fated relationship, Jimmy had used to tell her to stop nagging him. That she was being paranoid and suffocating him. That she shouldn’t have been surprised he found another girl who was more trusting and less paranoid.

Her phone buzzed on her thigh.

No, I’m sorry. I’m being rude. Really. I’m sorry. I appreciate you checking in. For all you knew, I was dead in a ditch. I’m sorry.

Rose sniffled and wiped her stinging nose against her sleeve.

“If I’m being overbearing, please tell me,” she said, even though it would hurt if James asked for distance from her.

You’re not. I promise.

I’m just. Not feeling well.

“Sick?”

No. Emotionally. Having a shit day.

I’m actually gonna go back to bed now.

I’ll see you Wednesday.

Sorry I was an arse.

Rose frowned at her phone, but didn’t reply.

She was worried about him for the rest of the day. He must be having a truly awful day if he skipped school. Sure, she’d seen him on the days when he was short-tempered or sullen, but he was always pleasant and polite with her, even if he was sometimes quiet and withdrawn. And she’d always managed to make him smile on those days.

But this seemed different. She didn’t know why, but she felt it deep in her gut.

Finally, she was done with classes for the day, glad that Monday was her early day. At two in the afternoon, Rose stood at the bus stop, but rather than catch the bus to her apartment, she instead rode it to the stop near the grocery store. She had a list running in her head, and it was a quick trip in for the ingredients to make her Nan’s old homemade chicken noodle soup. As a little girl, that had always been one of her favorite meals, and as she grew older, Rose often made it as a comfort food.

While James wasn’t physically ill, she hoped the soup would cheer him up even a tiny bit. Or at the very least, it would be a quick meal for him if he wasn’t in the mood to do any cooking.

For the next two hours, Rose slaved over an enormous pot of boiling chicken, adding seasonings and chopped vegetables and lastly noodles to the pot. Her flat was filled with the scent of the cooking soup, and it made an ache of nostalgia ping in her chest.

The soup was eventually ready, and Rose ladled half of it into a different pot. Then she called for an Uber and made her way to James’s house.

She argued with herself for the entire ride. Was she crossing some sort of boundary? Would he be annoyed that she showed up? Would he think it was weird? Would he think it was overbearing and suffocating, no matter what he’d said earlier?

Her heart thudded rapidly against her ribs as the driver pulled into James’s development. Well, there was nothing to do but go for it. At the very least, she’d drop off the soup then go back home.

“This house here?” the driver asked.

“Yeah. Could you wait for a few minutes? I’m dropping off food for a friend. I dunno if he’s even home or anything.”

Even though Rose could plainly see James’s car in his driveway.

“Sure thing.”

Rose clambered out of the back of the car, vat of soup in her arms, then she walked to the front door. Her hands were full, so she pressed the doorbell with her elbow.

Long seconds passed, and Rose was about to try the bell again when the door opened. James looked awful. His hair was unkempt, his eyes were red and glassy, and he was still in his pajamas.

“Rose?” he asked, his voice hoarse. He blinked rapidly a few times, as though he didn’t believe it was actually her standing there.

“Er, hi. I- I just wanted to check that you were okay.” Then she raised her arms a little, showing him the pot in her hands. “I made soup. If you want.”

“Yeah. Thanks. Haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

Rose frowned. “It’s nearly six o’clock.”

He shrugged.

“Are you… all right?”

He shrugged again.

“Do you want to be alone?” she asked quietly.

“Why would anyone want to be alone?” he asked bitterly. She’d never heard him use that tone before, and the combination of anger and agony made her stomach twist into knots. She wanted to drop the soup and take James into her arms until that haunted look left his face.

“I meant… do you want me to come in and hang out for a while?”

“You don’t have to,” he said wearily, rubbing his fingertips into his eyes. “I’m not going to be good company.”

“You don’t need to be,” she said. “We can sit on the couch in complete silence if you’d like. I’m actually here to see your cats, anyway.”

The tiniest of smiles tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah. Okay.”

She grinned. “Kay.”

Rose turned towards the idling driver and balanced the pot of soup on one hip to free up a hand. She waved him off, and he raised his hand in recognition before pulling away. She then turned back towards James and followed him into his house.

“Hi, Pip,” Rose said as the tabby zoomed straight into her legs. Pippin chirped and wove between her feet, nearly tripping her as she walked to the kitchen. “I’m gonna start heating this up, if that’s all right? It shouldn’t take long. I just made it so it’s still warm.”

James nodded and followed her as she set the pot of chicken soup on the stovetop and turned on the burner.

“We’ll let that heat through, then we’ll eat,” she said, more to fill the silence between them than anything.

With the soup beginning to warm up, Rose had nothing else to keep her attention. She turned and rested her bum against the counter and looked at James.

“What’s wrong?” she asked gently.

James had mirrored her position and was intently watching little tufts of steam rise from the pot.

“Today’s the day my parents died,” he said, his voice flat and toneless. “It’s always a hard day. Usually my aunt comes by, but she couldn’t get the time off this year.”

“Oh, James.”

“Don’t,” he bit out. “Just… don’t.”

Rose tried not to let her hurt show on her face.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pajama bottoms as he scuffed his socked toes across the floor.

Rose tentatively stepped up to him, and she reached out to touch his arm. The muscles of his forearm stiffened, but she kept her hand on his skin and rubbed her thumb through the fine hairs on his arm. After a moment, his muscles loosened.

She leaned back against the counter and moved her hand to link her arm through his. She hugged it to her chest and rested her head on his shoulder.

He sighed, then rested his head atop hers.

“It’s been nine years,” James murmured. “And I’m still… so angry. I’m furious with them. Both of them. Why did my mum have to bother with our stupid dogs? Eh? And why did my dad go back in? Why did he just… leave me? He left me outside. He left me alone.”

James’s voice broke, and so did Rose’s heart. Her eyes burned, but she squeezed them shut, forcing her tears back.

“Why did they leave me?”

Rose shuffled until she was standing in front of him, and she wrapped her arms around his waist. She lifted onto her tiptoes until she could set her chin on his shoulder. His cheek scraped across hers, then his ear pressed into her cheek as he hugged her back tightly. He was trembling slightly, and Rose stroked his back in what she hoped was a soothing manner.

“I’m so sorry, James,” she whispered. “So sorry.”

He didn’t say anything, but he tightened his arms around her.

Rose didn’t say anything more, nor did she drop her arms from around James. She’d hold him for as long as he needed it.

Eventually, he gave her a single squeeze then straightened. Taking his cue, she dropped her arms and took a step back.

His eyes were red-rimmed, but she pretended to not notice. She gave him a tentative, tight-lipped smile, which he returned before he turned away from her to find a tissue. As he blew his nose, Rose went to the stove and stuck a ladle into the pot of soup to stir it.

“I think it’s done. Want some?”

“Yes please,” he said, his voice somewhat raspy. He cleared it. “I’m starved and it smells amazing.”

“Bowls?” she asked, gesturing to his cabinets.

She skated to the one he pointed to, and she grabbed two bowls for them, and scooped soup into it. She then grabbed spoons and walked to the dining table.

“Pippin,” Rose sighed when the tabby leaped gracefully onto the table and lifted himself onto his back legs to try to see what was in her hands. “You’re gonna burn your little nose.”

James lifted his cat into his arms. Pippin nuzzled into James’s chest, but then began to cry when he realized James was walking him out of the kitchen. Rose giggled at the pathetic cat while she set the bowls onto the table and slid into a seat.

“The idiot acts as though I never feed him,” James grumbled when he walked back into the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink? Water? Wine? Beer? Other?”

“Water’s fine,” Rose answered. “Thanks.”

James grunted in acknowledgement, then passed her her beverage and sat in the chair opposite her.

They slurped at their soup, and apart from James complimenting the meal, he didn’t say anything. The silence was only somewhat uncomfortable, but Rose didn’t want to force him to make conversation if he didn’t feel like it. So she simply stared at her own bowl, pushing the contents around after each bite.

Rose was pleased when James ladled himself a second albeit smaller helping. He finished the entire thing, then cleared their dishes and stacked them into the empty sink. That task done, he turned to her and stared intently at her for a few uncomfortable seconds.

“Why are you here?”

Rose frowned.

James’s eyes widened. “I mean, obviously I’m glad you’re here. You’ve made today as bearable as it can be. But… why?”

Her face softened. Because I’m in love with you. I’m in love with you, and my God, my heart is breaking for you today and I can’t bear the thought of you being upset or lonely.

His gaze was on her, expectant, as she swallowed down the words she wished she could say.

“Because you’re my friend. You’re my best friend,” she modified. “And it hurts me to see you hurting. And I know I can’t erase all the pain you’re feeling, but the least I can do is be here so you’re not alone.”

James’s expression was unreadable and his eyes were glassy. But he blinked and they cleared, but the unidentifiable gentleness remained on his face.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “You’re… I…” He clicked his teeth shut, then ran his hand through his limp hair. “Do you want to watch a movie or something? Or do you need to be getting home?”

“I can stay,” Rose said immediately. While she had a stack of work to do, she knew it would be there for her tomorrow.

Rose followed James into the living room, and she lowered herself onto the couch beside him as he turned on his television and opened the Netflix app.

“Find something for us to watch,” he said, giving her the remote. “I’m gonna free Pip from his prison.”

Rose chuckled and scrolled through the list of films, unsure of what James was in the mood for. Probably something light and funny.

She finally settled on a rom-com, hoping James wouldn’t mind. She’d never been able to watch those kinds of movies with Jimmy. He’d always moaned until she flipped it to a superhero or action movie.

“Excellent choice,” James said, making her jump. She hadn’t heard him return. Pippin jumped onto the couch and into Rose’s lap, kneading her in a rhythm she thought too quick to be soothing. But he was purring loudly and blinking lazily.

James plopped down beside her, then she hit the play button and they settled in to watch a woman travel to Paris to try to win back her fiancé’s heart.

They didn’t speak at all though the movie, but they each laughed to themselves at certain scenes. Rose was pleased whenever she saw James smile out of the corner of her eye.

“Wanna watch another?” Rose asked when the end credits rolled.

“We don’t have to,” James said quietly. “It’s getting late. You can go home if you’d like.”

“I’m up for another movie if you are,” Rose answered. “Or if you’re subtly trying to tell me you want me to leave, you’re gonna have to be a bit more obvious.”

James snorted and rolled his eyes, but she saw his entire body relax as he picked up the remote and sifted through the movies. He landed on a Disney film—Tarzan. She was a little surprised by his selection, considering how the movie began.

As they watched the flames eat up the ship and Tarzan’s parents flee in their lifeboat, James began to speak.

“That night was the worst night of my life. I can still remember everything perfectly, no matter how hard I try to forget.

“My dad came into my room and shook me awake, saying the house was on fire. None of the alarms were going off. The batteries were probably shot. I don’t ever remember my parents checking or replacing them. Half the house was already in flames. The police still don’t know what caused the fire. Anyways. Dad grabbed me and ran. He literally… He hoisted me over one shoulder and carried me outside.

“He waited with me for about a minute. But he was terrified for my mum. So he went back inside. He hadn’t been in for more than five seconds before the whole house just… exploded. Literally. Blown to bits. I got knocked to my arse and hit my head and passed out.

“When I came to, I was in the hospital and couldn’t hear anything. I think I started screaming, ‘cos they knocked me out. Then when I woke up, Aunt Sarah was there. When my head was healed, she took me home with her to Croydon.

“It was hard for both of us at first. I hated her. It wasn’t fair, but I resented everything about her. I hated her house. I hated Croydon. I hated my new school. I hated myself. I hated my parents. I hated my stupid, fucking, arsehole dogs. And I especially hated my mum for wanting to save them instead of herself, and for making my dad go back inside.

“Bless Aunt Sarah, though. She let me rage, but she also held me accountable and told me off when I was being a bit too dramatic. She made me go to counselling, which I grudgingly admit helped after a while. Eventually I woke up one day and my anger was gone. More or less. But then the depression set in.

“It scared my aunt to death to see me go from emotional to numb seemingly overnight. But I worked through that, too. It took a damn long while. But funnily enough, moving to the United States helped. Aunt Sarah had wanted to move here for so long, but put it off because she didn’t want to upset me with too many changes too quickly.

“But when I was sixteen, she asked if I might like to come to America, and I jumped at the chance. I figured I could remake myself. I didn’t have to be the boy whose parents died. I could just be James, the cool kid with a cool accent.”

James blinked, then his cheeks turned red. “Sorry. I kinda word-vomited there.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Rose said, reaching over to thread her fingers through his. “I don’t mind listening.”

He gave her hand a squeeze, then kept their fingers interwoven as they lapsed back into silence.

About half way through the movie, James’s fingers began to twitch in hers. She glanced over and saw his head was tipped back and he was half asleep. He jerked himself awake half a dozen times before he fell into a deeper sleep and didn’t stir for the remainder of the movie.

It was almost eleven o’clock, and Rose was drowsy but still awake. James, however, was completely out and snoring softly. She carefully lifted herself up off the couch, then took the blanket they’d been sharing and tucked it higher up on his chest. He didn’t stir.

She straightened, then chewed on her lip as she tried to figure out what she should do. Should she stay with him? Or should she call an Uber to take her back to her flat? She wanted to stay, but perhaps that was too presumptuous. But she also didn’t want James to wake up and not know where she was.

After she tidied up the house—putting the leftover soup in the fridge, washing up the few dishes in the sink—Rose went back into the living room. James was still dead asleep, though Pippin had curled himself into his side. The cat chirped, then the sound morphed into a yawn as he rolled closer to James and went to sleep.

Rose smiled. Then, making a potentially rash decision, she took the blanket that was draped along the back of the couch and sat down in the recliner. She pulled the footrest up and leaned back to get comfy. She curled up on her side to watch James.

His chest rose and fell slowly as he breathed. The deep lines that had been present all night on his face her smoothed over. He looked like any other untroubled twenty-two-year-old boy.

A warm ache bloomed inside of Rose, swelling through her chest and stomach as she watched him sleep. She could get used to this.

Instead of imagining the worst-case scenario, imagine the best.

Unbidden, Mickey’s piece of advice clanged through her head.

What was the best-case scenario?

She would profess her love for James, and miraculously, he would admit he felt the same way. She would kiss him, and he’d kiss her back. She would promise to love him forever, and he would give her that same promise, and they both would uphold the vow for the rest of their lives. She would find her soulmate in him, and he would find his soulmate in her.

Rose yearned for that fantasy to come true. She wanted so badly to tell James how she felt. Even if he didn’t feel the same way, she found that she didn’t want to hold anything back. In fifty years, she didn’t want to look back and regret not saying anything to James and potentially miss out on her great love story.

After finals, Rose vowed to herself. Let me get through this class. Then I’ll tell him. Let me get through this semester, and I’ll talk to him. It’s only four more weeks.

A sense of calmness settled over Rose, and with her resolve strengthened, she slipped into a dreamless sleep.

[tonysopranosfeverdreams]

What do you think the differences are between the cancellation of AP bio and the Mick? I personally liked the mick better and was sad when it got canceled, and I agree with pretty much everything you've said about AP bio

you WENT THERE

to be perfectly transparent i havent seen every ep of either show, just some here and there.

with the mick. it actually seemed to offer a lot of diversity/uniqueness to television?? gender fluid/bi characters?? that was fucking UNHEARD OF in network shows. the plot of the show??? actually incredibly original and unlike anything else on tv at the moment. WOMEN never get to be the irreverent, trouble making anti-hero like fucking. EVER. and kaitlin’s character really brought that while shedding a light on different kinds of characters that NEVER EVER EVER get discussed on network tv.

when it was cancelled, kaitlin was openly really sad. she was honest. but she NEVER BEGGED fans to renew the show. she NEVER flooded peoples timelines trying to convince them to trend anything. she expressed her disappointment and sadness but she NEVER tried to play people’s pity for personal gain.

the ap bio cancellation has been entirely different. It’s a show that literally feeds off of other television tropes and characters and offers up diversity in the form of tokenism; characters who exist to say “look how fucking woke we are,” but characters who will never be developed.

the cancellation has brought out the absolute worst in the creative team/some of the actors, who have literally taken to begging audiences to trend a hashtag they fomulated on their own and pushed on fans. they have consistently refused to acknowledge that maybe its anything about the actual show that caused it to be unpopular, and, oddly, seem to try and be asserting it actually IS a popular show??? when it clearly isnt???? the professionals of the show have essentially taken to throwing a full fledged temper tantrum and thinking the world will think its endearing because they dont want to admit their show isnt groundbreaking and original even when it very obviously isnt *shrug emoji*

[dwarfstaralloy]

five times kissed

meme: five times kissedstatus: accepting (from mutuals)

She had expected Mick to be like all the others – rough, entitled, smug, superior. The type of person to see someone smaller than them and weaker than them and decide, yes, I’m going to grind them down beneath my feet.

But he was not. He was rough a little, yes. Smug when it came to certain things – winning arguments for sure. Angry, at the world, at himself, at people like the ones who had hurt her.

And soft, and gentle, and kind. Things she was not used to. Things she shied away from, equating touch with pain until his warmth got through to her.

When she found herself crying quietly, scared out of her mind, he had sat next to her, waiting for her to make the first move. Ray found herself turning into him, the solid strength of him next to her reminding her that for once, for the first time, when someone told her she was not alone, they meant it.

The kiss he pressed to the top of her head as he held her was so brief she thought she imagined it, but it calmed her enough to reach out and hold his hand in her own and thank him for being with her.

---

Pregnancy cravings were the worst, and Mick was a saint for putting up with her. Oh, they got into arguments about them now that she was comfortable with bantering and not defensive or, worse, scared.

But no matter how much he complained about being her errand boy, Mick would go out and get whatever she and baby wanted. Or he would take her out when she was cooped up and frustrated. He was everything she thought a best friend should be. Dependable and safe and one person in the world who saw her as just Ray, a girl who had been through so much, but who was not broken.

Even when she thought she was, he would disagree. He called her strong, and brave, and smart, though he would tease her for a lack of common sense. He thought she was funny, but would not hesitate to call her out when she was being too stubborn.

Ray was not someone used to initiating physical affection, but with Mick it had become second nature to thank him for indulging her with a quick kiss on the cheek and a bright smile because he was family to her. She hoped he knew that.

---

There was blood on Mick’s knuckles and near the corner of his mouth. Bruises were already forming on his skin, and Ray was biting back frustrated tears and the ever present fear of her past catching up to her as she deftly bandaged his hand.

She could not look him in the eyes, a mix of shame and self-flagellation telling her that he blamed her for what had happened. It had been her insistence that they go to that particular diner that day despite knowing it was near her old place. It had been her ex they had run into who had gotten up in arms when she had tried to deny him. It had been her shrinking back into Mick that had incited her ex into punching Mick.

Mick had carefully gotten her out of the way before he had hit her ex back, and Ray had been to frozen with terror to do much but watch in horror, hands wrapped protectively around her belly. It was only thanks to the waitress that the cops had been called and her ex and his buddies had fled. The cops would have tried to arrest Mick if not for the fact that Ray had been clutching him, trembling and in tears by the time they had shown up.

Now she could neither look at Mick, nor could she cry. She focused instead on keeping her breathing steady as she tied off the bandage and put it away. She took out a cotton swab and some alcohol and turned her gaze carefully to the cut on Mick’s lip. If she put all of her attention on that, maybe he would not say anything. Maybe he would not ask her to leave.

His fingers wrapping around her wrist to stop her made her freeze. She would have been scared if he had been anything like her ex. Some distant part of her was scared, but not that he would hit her or berate her. But simply that he had tired of her, and she would lose her friend and protector. He was gentle though, and he kept his hand on hers as he asked her to look at him.

She did, slowly, waiting for the indifference and coldness that usually came when she was too much for people. The distance that they put between them when they had enough of her. That was not what met her eyes, and he was understanding. There was nothing but empathy and worry, and when he told her that it had not been her fault, she crumpled into tears.

Mick pulled her to him unhesitatingly, and she sobbed her apologies into his shoulder as he pressed kisses to her head and tried to calm her down and assure her that he was okay, it was okay, they were okay.

---

You couldn’t blame a heavily pregnant and hormonal girl for getting jealous of a beautiful woman hitting on her best friend. You could not.

Of course, Ray would not admit out loud that she had been jealous, because that would mean admitting she had something other than platonic feelings for her best friend, and that would mean opening her heart to getting hurt, and creating the possibility of a kind rejection, and Ray did not need that, thank you very much.

Still, watching the redhead flirt with Mick irritated Ray, and what annoyed her even more was not that Mick was flirting back, because Mick had every right to flirt back, but that the redhead was exactly the sort of person that would be good for and to Mick, and Ray could not explain away her irrational anger at her presence as protective instinct.

So instead, she sat sulking in her spot, nursing the warm tea that was the only thing settling her stomach lately and tried to smile back at the redhead whenever she spoke to her and tried to pass of her bad mood as discomfort. Mick’s worry was palpable, and she tried to wave him off to go on his date, but he hesitated. She finally managed a laugh, informing him that she was planning to sleep as much as the baby let her and to please not stay home on her account.

Ray was hard-pressed not to turn into the kiss he placed on the top of her head before he left, keeping her eyes closed for a long while after she heard the door shut behind Mick.

---

Everything hurt. Everything hurt and Ray did not understand how people did this more than once because she swore, she swore she was never having another kid naturally again.

Mick was trying to soothe her down, alternating between smoothing her hair down and snapping at the nurses to get her fucking epidural already, but the doctor babbled something about it being too late and her being too diluted and Ray could only sob out Mick’s name because it hurt so much.

He was by her side in an instant, attention fully on her, as if he had forgotten anyone else even existed. He took her hand in hers, and she held it tightly. It was the only thing that felt solid to her, the thing that was grounding her when she felt like letting the exhaustion and the pain drag her under. The murmurs of encouragement and endearments kept her awake and aware and pushing when the doctors told her to, and crying weakly all the while.

“You’re okay, you’re okay, sweetheart,” he was whispering to her, bringing her hand to his lips. “You’ve got this. You’ve got this.”

“Mick,” she sobbed, trying to turn to him but knowing she could not. “Mick, I’m scared. It hurts, it hurts so much.”

Were there tears in his voice or was that hers? “It’s okay, you’re going to be okay, you’re both going to be okay, you’ll see.”

And then there was the sound of a baby wailing, and Ray was drifting, spent, her eyes slipping closed despite her efforts, Mick’s voice turning panicked as he called for her to stay with him, stay with me, dammit Rachel, stay...

---

When she came to, Mick was holding her baby in his arms, heavy lines on his face even as he spoke to the bundle gently. It took a few moments for him to sense her tired gaze, and then he blinked, as if surprised to see her awake before relief spread across his features. He strode quickly but carefully to her side, and she opened her mouth to ask him a question, but any sound she may have made was cut off by the press of his mouth against hers.

He sounded shaky when he pulled away just enough to tell her not to scare him like that again. She leaned into him, closing her eyes, listening to his heartbeat, and nodded.

[silviasutton1989]

The True Kings Ch. 5 “Fight”

Summary: Issac comes clean. Drake and Riley have their first fight.

Word Count:2300

Rating: NSFW (smut smut smutty smut smut...) Happy Thirsty Thursday!

Catch up: Chapter 1  1.2  2  3  4

AN: I really hope you guys are enjoy this series. If I haven’t thanked you personally, please know I am so grateful for you all for taking the time to read my work!

"Olivia I can explain. I--" Issac tries to get his words together as he walks over to her.

"Are...are you Boss?"

"What? Cherry, baby I'm not sure--"

Moving fast, before either of them understood her intentions, Olivia's first swing catches him straight in the jaw sending him tumbling back into a nearby chair and onto the floor.

"Shut up with the terms of endearment! Are you Boss? Why would you do this you dumb bastard!" She yells.

"Shit Liv! Just give me a second" He cries as he stumbles to his feet.

"Times up"

Issac tries his best to dodge what kicks and punches she throws at him, bu Olivia is in such a fit of rage, she spins and swing twice a fast a he can block, all the while yelling for him to come clean.

"I sat at that estate wondering when they planned to kill me and all that time it was you. You!" She cocks him again, this time straight in the nose. He staggers backwards tripping over the chair again and plopping back onto the ground. He decides to sit there.

"Get up! I said get up so I can knock your lying ass right back down again. You kidnapped me you bastard Get up!"

"Where was all this fight when you were being kidnapped huh?" He yells back in frustration..and pain. His eyes were taunting her... and she took the bait. She runs full force onto him. His back hits the ground so hard the chandelier above them shakes.

"Ooff...Cherry, you're going to kill me."

He lifts his knee holding her close to his chest, swinging them around, putting full weight on Olivia's chest. She squirms under his body.

"Get off of me!"

"Listen to me Liv you said you were at someone's estate...I don't even have an estate..hell my home is over 100 miles from here I practically live in this palace and you know that!"

She stops squirming realizing the truth. She feels him slowly lift off of her and she springs her knee into his groin.

"Oh Shit... Liv what the fuck?!"

"You may not be Boss but you helped him get me out of there didn't you. You wore that mask so I couldn't see your face..."

"I've been here ALL day. I...I left with someone ....last night. after you ran off with Liam. We were in one of the libraries and didn't even know about the attack till this morning."

'Explain the mask Issac!"

"We wear the masks...during our meetings..."

"So..you are a.." She trails off as she tries to get up. Issac grabs her hand holding it tightly into his own.

"No... not yet I haven't initiated. I haven't even seen a member without these masks on. I was going to initiate soon. But after last night...and then what happened this morning... I don't know what's going on with them."

There was an uncomfortable silence, the two sat on opposite sides of the room trying to catch their breathes.

"Issac the True Kings have always been terrorist--"

"They were protesters Liv! Protesters that Constantine tried to crush under his finger like ants, because they disagreed with him ...like he did my family...like he did yours."

Olivia grabs her dress and makes her way to the door.

"I must go..before I feel the urge to knock you back on your ass again."

He watches her struggle to zip her dress back on, and walks behind her to help.

"I don't need your help I've got it!" She barks, but for some reason she still struggles to reach the zipper.

Issac silently helps her anyway, but as he does he notices the scratches, Mick's nail's left, on the back of Olivia's neck. He looks up slightly to see the missing patch of hair above the nape of her neck, the result of Mick pulling her by her hair to the ground.

"I'm going to find out who did this to you Cherry." He pulls her back into his chest. "I'm going to help you find this Boss. And we when find him I will kill him myself" He places a soft kiss onto her shoulder, she shudders under the touch, but her she quickly snaps out of it.

"Just because I believe you doesn't mean I trust you. I will do this myself...I will find Boss..and Mick and I will crush them."

She let's the door slam behind her.

Drake let's the door slam behind him.

"Are you seriously trying to go back out there?"

"Are you seriously just going to leave our friends out there? What if someone's hurt or there's another attack going on. You heard that guy they want Liam's head on a pike. I mean what century is this when we're still beheading royalty? We have to go help them." Riley tries to move past Drake but he doesn't budge.

"Sutton will you calm yourself down! Really what do you plan to do out there if they are shooting? How many bullets do you think my body can take trying to save your stubborn ass!"

The words sends a heat wave through her body. She flings her heels across the room and plants her feet firmly onto the ground. She was ready for a fight. No one had called her stubborn since her grandmother was alive, she didn't like it then and damn sure didn't like it now.

"Don't you dare try to make you getting shot last night my fault. It wasn't my fault! I didn't ask you to do that! So if you are trying to guilt me into.--"

"I didn't mean it like that Riley I'm just--"

"I wasn't finished. I also saved you. You know that. You would have bled to death if it wasn't for me and you didn't ask me to do that either. And what's funny is that you don't want to help your friends out of risk of being shot again but you will run around the courtyard trying to shoot bow and arrows like your Robin Hood or something."

Drake opens his mouth to protest but...his phone vibrates.

"It's Maxwell checking to see if we are ok."

"Ask him, does he know where Hana is."

Drake sends the text and gets one back immediately.

"She's with him. He says Liam is ok too."

With a sigh of relief Riley plops onto the bed. She take off her blazer pensively playing with the broach pinned to it.

"So... our first fight huh..."

Drake takes a set next her on the bed. He rubs his eyes with his hands feeling the whole weight of the past few days.

"Look last night was one of the worst nights of my life. But it also became the best night of my life. If I can protect you I will.at all cost, Riley. Even if I have to fight you in the process."

Riley warp her arms around her fiance. She breathes into his neck as he holds her close and they stay that way watching the sun beginning to set.

"Drake I just thought about something."

"Hmm...what's that?"

"Well since that was our first fight...maybe we should make up..."

Drake chuckles through his words. "Was this a fight. I would have called it more of an aggressive discussion."

"Oh so you don't want to make up then.." Riley  hops up from the bed. She stands before Drake as she slowly pulls her cashmere blouse over her head. Drake's mouth opens as she works on the claps of her slacks. The navy blue bra and- now visible--brief panties play a beautiful contrast to her mocha skin tone. ..."I need a shower anyway."

He reaches out to touch her but she moves out of his reach and begins to sway toward the bathroom.

She doesn't look back, and takes off her bra letting it fall onto the floor before she closes the bathroom door behind her.

Drake is at the door before the shower even starts.

Riley turns to see him, his eyes roam over every inch of her and she can’t help but blush at the erection showing from his jeans.

"I guess I could use a shower too." He says before unbuttoning his shirt, his pants and boxers fall to the floor soon after.

Before the first drop of water drips onto his skin his lips are on hers. Kissing her with such passion and want. She moans into his mouth

"Mmm... that's nice but we really should shower."  

Drake grabs the soap "Allow me."

He starts on her shoulders and neck making a great deal of lather of soap that trickles down her body. Riley leans her head back on the tile wall. He looked so dedicated and aroused as his hands begins to descend to her breast.

"Raise your arms" He orders, she obeys holding her hands high above her head. She couldn't stop her hurried breathing or the rise in fall of her chest as his hands worked on her breast for what seemed like hours. Drake rubs his thumbs over her nipple toying with the rigid peaks  until they are pointed .

"Turn around."

Riley didn't know how much Drake loved her bare back. She had the best silhouette of hips and ass that on sight makes him moan. He washes her back and ass before spreading her legs. He drops the soap, using his fingers to circle her slick warmth.He cant help himself and places his fingers into his mouth, to sneak a taste.

"Damn Riley...turn around."

She does so and watches Drake descended to his knees. He kisses her just once before parting her lips and begins to lick her clit. But it wasn't until he grazes it with his teeth that she screams his name.

"So you like that huh." Drake has the most sinful smile. He puts her leg upon his shoulder then begins to dive in. With his tongue Drake searches for her juices, sucking and drinking down every bit she gives him. Her moans fill the room. And although he wonders if the whole east wing could hear his name being called it only encourages him more. To see how loud she can get.

"Drake... b-baby Drake!"

He continues on his mission, with two fingers he stretches her open sex. Thrusting into her as he hums her name on her clit.

Her body locks up, but that doesn't stop him. With his fingers still in her he curves them flicking them at a steady pace. He clamps down onto her clit sucking so hard her nails break skin on his shoulders. With her orgasm came and went she still quivers from the after shocks as his mouth replaces his fingers drinking down every bit of juice left.

Riley pins him to the wall the second he his on his feet.

"My turn." she says before taking the soap and rubbing it over his broad shoulders. She works carefully around his wound. before washing his stomach back and legs.

She couldn't hide her giddy smile as she descends to the best part.

"Wait Riley--"

Drake holds her up by her shoulders a look of confusion on her face.

"Wait..for what. You got to taste me....let me taste you."

Drake couldn't argue with that logic he puts his full weight into his feet to sturdy himself and leans his head back.

Riley begins by stroking his lengthy cock. She admired that large vein that appears on the side and couldn't help but to trail it with her tongue.

"Shh...Riley." Drake hitches in his breath and she can't help but to laugh. She hadn't even started yet.

She gives his tip a quick kiss before she begin to suck it. She rolls her tongue over the head then begins to push more and more of that thick cock into her wanting mouth. She let's him fill her almost gagging as she bobs her head even further.

"You like that baby."

"Yes baby...fucking love that." he looks down into her excited eyes  her lips wet her hands stroking his length, her breast bouncing with the rhythm of her hand.

"Here baby show me what you like." She takes his hands and places them in her hair. His fingers tangles into her brown coils as he moves her head at the instructed pace.

For a moment he loses sense and begins to fuck her mouth, yelling her name and many other 4 letter words that he was sure the whole palace could hear.

Riley grips his ass as he thrust his cock in and out of her mouth.

"Ohhh... Dammit Riley ...stop I--"

But she doesn't move instead she slides him in and out of her mouth and continues to suck.

"Oh shit Riley..."

"That's it baby give it to me give me what I want." He feels his release nearing. His moans get louder as Riley mouth goes back onto his tip sucking it with no end in sight. His toes curl up and he grips her hair and with a loud grunt his seed spills into her mouth and overflows down her checks.

He rest his head back waiting for Riley to stand up but she doesn't stop, making sure to get her fill. Drake tries to speak but the words are incoherent.

Once she is satisfied she stands to her feet.

"How was that?"

"Oh god will you marry me?"

"Ha you all ready asked me that!"

As the sun sets over the now restful Cordonian Palace, several miles away is a busy airport. Mick sits and watches the hustle and bustle as he waits for his flight to be called.

"If Boss would have just given me one more chance I could have did it all. Could've got that king..that mistress and still ransom Red."

He is only talking to himself as his crew took the fist flights home the second the cash was in their hands. but not Mick he really didn't have a home to go to. He unknowingly reaches into his pocket, feeling something coiling in his hand he pulls it out. Olivia's red hair is tangled into his fingers, and right then he has a plan. He doesn't hear the announcer calling for his flight his eyes are only focused on the exist sign.

Tag List: Ok so I do not want to upset anyone so I’m going to put this with the tags every time. If you want to be on the tag list permanently (this one is randomly selected with some permanent in as well)  let me know. If you DO NOT want to be tagged ever just send me a message I will not be upset.

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