#rob is so pop not my cup of tea but I love his voice

[poohadventuresinseamajors]

Rob Cantor Lyrics: wherever you go, it’s making me slowly, don’t leave it alone, don’t leave it alone you sound so much further on the phone, you fit so right, right next to me🎶

Joe Hawley Lyrics:

[megalony]

I'm Her Doctor

Okay, so this is my first time writing an AU fic for 911, Eddie Diaz, as requested by a lovely anon. I utterly loved writing this and I hope to do more like this soon.

(If anybody would be interested in a Doctor AU series for any of the 911 boys please let me know)

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana

@shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700

@ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @itshamleth @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: When a tsunami strikes LA, Eddie pulls overtime at the hospital to care for as many patients as he can. Little does he realise that his wife will be one of his patients, and he won't let anyone else look after her but him. (AU, Eddie is a Doctor)

Enjoy.

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Eddie's nose crinkled at the smell of the coffee. Too strong. A splash of milk he didn't intend. A hint of tea curdling the mix. No amount of sugar in the world could make this bearable, but Eddie couldn't be bothered to buy another three cups from the decades old machine to get the perfect blend.

He didn't have time to run down to the cafeteria for a proper cup and all the machines on each ward were either old, broken or used the cheap blend Eddie would never touch outside of work.

He only drank the coffee from the machines when he was desperate and right now, with a twelve hour shift that was probably going to be extended, Eddie needed something to keep himself awake.

His lips curled down at the corners when he took a sip and a shudder rocked his body at the curdling taste.

With a sigh, he turned on his heels, dragged his free hand down his face and took a step away from the machine. His break would be over in a few minutes, he had to get back to his office.

His head snapped back and his shoulders barged into the machine, pushing the decrepit coffee maker into the beige wall loud enough to create an echo surging down the corridor. Eddie lifted his arms and hissed when the coffee spilled over his hands and dribbled through his fingers while he pushed himself back enough to be out the way of the gurney speeding down the corridor.

"Dios, Marcy, where's the fire?" Eddie's voice lowered a few tones and he rose a brow when he locked eyes with the familiar nurse who almost ran him over.

The gurney was empty- well, it was empty of a patient, at least.

There were over ten IV bags wobbling about on the mattress like bags of jelly that looked rather weak and ready to pop. Rolls of bandages, gauze, bottles of anticeptic, cotton swabs and packaged needles were littering the gurney that looked like it had robbed the supply cupboard.

The young nurse paused in her speeding attempt down the corridor. Sweat trickled across her forehead and down the side of her neck, causing a few loose strands of hair to stick to her skin. She puffed and leaned against the end of the gurney, letting her shoulders sag.

When she relaxed, Eddie realised how panicked and worn out she looked. She hadn't been on shift for more than five hours, she turned up way after Eddie clocked in for his shift.

"You mean the flood."

"Pardon?"

"Didn't you hear? The ER's been taken over, we're swamped down there. Everyone's being redirected."

"Why?"

Eddie hadn't heard anything, he had been in theatre for the last six hours of his shift. He had been removing an appendix, sorting out internal bleeding and stitching up a ten year old. He hadn't had time to bustle about and find out the latest gossip in the hospital. Before he went into surgery, everything had been as normal as ever.

Now though, he had encountered at least four nurses running around like headless chickens. Another two of his colleagues had been called to the ER over the tanoid and Eddie had barely seen anyone on the upper floors here. He thought it odd, but he had no idea something big was happening.

Marcy tilted her head at an angle and let out a shallow breath. She took a moment to swipe her hand across her temple before she looked back at the doctor stood beside her.

"There's- there's been a tsunami, high level. It took out the pier and all the coast, at least four miles inland."

"Jesus," Eddie dumped his cup in the bin beside him, shaking his hand free of coffee remnants before he dragged his hand down his chin.

A tsunami? In LA?

There had been no warnings or signs about this. No one had been on red alert or suspected anything. Usually they got a small warning, maybe an hour or less before the disasters happened, like with hurricanes or thunderstorms. The hospital had preparations and plans in place, they could usually get set up ready for a natural disaster if one were to occur.

"We've got people coming from all over, brought in on trucks, walk-ins, even the LAFD are out driving people to us. The ER is overspilling… I gotta get these supplies down there."

"Go, go." Eddie patted her shoulder and watched her give him a sympathetic smile before she resumed her high-speed charge towards the lift at the end.

Eddie's shift wasn't going to finish anytime soon.

How could he go home when they were getting people being brought in from all across the state? People were dying. People were crawling and dragging their families down to the nearest hospitals, wading through water and grime and busted cars and broken telephone wires. They were trying to get themselves to safety and thousands of people could be injured.

There was no way he could go home when people were being brought in on trucks, needing medical help.

He was a doctor. It was his duty to help people and save as many lives as possible. Eddie couldn't go home until the hospital had people on wards and they had helped every person that came in through their doors.

Rummaging his hand in his pocket, Eddie fished out his phone. He was surprised to find he still had some signal, a tsunami usually brought down the phone lines. They had to be far in land here to be unharmed.

He had to call (Y/n). If he wasn't going to be getting out of here anytime soon, he had to let (Y/n) know and make sure she and Chris didn't venture out far with this mess going on. The last thing he needed was his family getting stuck in a traffic jam or being caught up or swamped somewhere with the waves still lashing out and coming inland.

She didn't answer.

"Hey mi amor, I don't know when I'm gonna be home, there's some sort of tsunami happening and we're getting casualties left right and centre. I'll call you when I know more. I hope you and Chris are having a better time, amor. Stay safe."

With his phone in his pocket and his pager in his hand, Eddie looked through the two messages he got. They wanted him down in the ER. He was on standby for any emergency operations if any casualties came through.

Into the chaos.

The tails of his pristine white overcoat flapped behind his thighs as he jostled down the stairs towards the emergency room. There was no point waiting for the lift when others needed it more and Eddie could use the stairs.

He didn't like what he saw. People sat on the floor in the stairwell and the adjoining corridors. Sat on blankets. Holding gauze to major cuts, empty water bottles sat beside them. Water trickling down the stairs causing a major hazard. Two, three and four people sharing one oxygen tank between them, taking turns with the mask to try and keep each other from gasping like fish.

Were these people all walk-ins from the disaster? Were these patients that had been moved out of their rooms and wards to make way for more dire emergencies?

How many more people were going to be coming into the hospital? How many more people could they help before they were overflowing and had no space left?

Could they even turn people away? Eddie had never known them to turn anyone away, especially not in a disaster. But they were clearly reaching maximum capacity if people were sitting in stairwells and lying in corridors. They might have to turn people away, how could they help people if they had no space and were using up their extra resources?

The doors swung open when Eddie barged into the emergency room. He clipped his ID badge onto his waistband for easy access in case he had to go and grab more supplies. All the corridors were locked for safety, if the patients wanted through they had to be buzzed in and all staff had keycards.

"Darren, what have we got?"

"What haven't we got?" The nurse deadpanned, dropping his shoulders as he spun to face Eddie. He rose a brow when he realised what Eddie was wearing. He wasn't in his usual button up shirt or trousers. He was in pale turquoise scrubs and his usual bleached white overcoat. That was a giveaway that he had been in surgery.

"Alright, smart arse, who's shift lead down here?" Eddie's hands moved to his hips and he took a look around.

The emergency room had never been so compact.

Most of the curtains were pulled back with little privacy so they could push the beds closer together and squeeze more patients in. People were sitting on blankets on the floor. Others were lining the walls, sat, crouching and stood waiting to be seen by anyone available.

Some were wearing wristbands of different colours, red meant someone was in dire need of help, green were those who could wait and amber meant they would need attention soon.

Black was reserved for those who were either dead or not going to make it. It had been a long time since Eddie had seen the wristband system come into play.

"Jameston was pulled up to theatre, Macabee's been pulled somewhere else, we're just helping who we can."

"Fuck." Eddie's fingers scratched through his scrubs until he was sure he would have red indents in his skin and blood wheels bubbling up beneath his skin. If no one was on shift lead then people didn't have anyone to report to, that meant people would just help whoever they wanted or whoever was closest. They needed a system.

If no one was going to take charge then Eddie would take that role himself. People could listen to him or get out the emergency room.

"Alright, listen up." He made his way over to the circular reception desk in the middle of the room. "If you don't have a wristband, come get one. Green bands in that corner, amber over here. If you have red then someone will come and move you towards the back."

Coloured bands were there for a reason, people were meant to be segregated into their groups, not compiled together like this. Eddie pointed for where he wanted them to go and waved his hands towards the back for all the red patients to be escorted over. The back was closest to the equipment and near the lifts for easy transfer.

"You three, go to red I want four nurses in the red corner at all times, do not leave those patients. Johnson, you're in charge or those three, deal with amber and get them onto a different floor. The rest of you sort out the greens, anyone who can be stitched up and sent out needs to go. We aren't a cafe we are here for serious injuries."

Eddie could see the funny looks he was getting, but no one dared argue with him. He was putting himself in charge and they needed to agree or go to a different ward for different orders.

This was a hospital. Anyone who had minor injuries needed to be given paracetamol, checked for cuts and sent home. They could get antibiotics from their GP and they could get seen by a pharmacist for any minor complications. They had no room, no space and no time to deal with anyone who wasn't in critical condition.

"We've been separated, w-we need to find out families-"

"Ma'am, I completely understand that, but you can't do that here."

"We need to see if our families have been admitted!" An angry father, or, Eddie presumed he was a father by his stance and his panicked temper, stomped his foot on the floor.

He wanted to find his loved ones. He had a few injuries that weren't life-threatening. He wanted to find his family and he couldn't leave the hospital if he wanted to do that.

He looked Eddie up and down when the doctor advanced over to him with a calm expression and his hands at his sides.

"Look around," Eddie's voice was gentle but his words were oddly firm. "We aren't taking names at the moment, we treat people, we get them onto a ward or on their way. We don't get names until they are safely in a bed or about to leave. In here, we have no way of knowing if your family have arrived, have been transferred or are in theatre."

They couldn't take names straight away. Some people weren't in any fit state to give their names or ask about their families. Their job as doctors was to patch people up and get them safely into theatre or onto a ward.

"If you go out into the gardens, the emergency services will set up tents and take names. They will help you find your family, but I can't have you taking up time and resources in here if you are fit and able to wait outside. Please."

It sounded harsh, but this was an emergency like no other. Eddie had no space for people to sit here and people-watch, waiting for their families to come in or to hear any news they were desperately seeking.

The emergency services and some of the hospital reception staff would already be setting up tents outside. They took names and cross-referenced against those who had been able to give their names on arrival. They checked for people on wards, people in the morgue and those who were dead but yet to be identified.

Once the man nodded, Eddie pointed at someone to check them over and guide the group of people out who had green wristbands.

He turned to face the reception desk, taking deep breaths to try and calm down the tremors that were rattling through him. But his brows furrowed and he sighed when he looked at the desk. Papers were scattered everywhere. Some were drenched in water from the patients who came in, scrambling for help at the desk. Others were scribbled so hastily that Eddie couldn't make head nor tail of the words.

"Janice, what is going on here?" His hands fumbled around, motioning to all the paperwork.

"I've had over two hundred people to sign in and send upstairs-"

"How do you know which ones are which?"

Her lack of reply had Eddie running his hands over his face with a deep, grumble that racked his chest and had his jaw locking in place. Could no one organise in this mess? Had they all forgotten how to cope in a disaster? It had only been a year since the Earthquake and Eddie had worked three days straight during that period.

They had a great system during that disaster, did everyone just forget how to cope and how to function in times like these?

"Dios, we can't work like this-"

"What do you want me to do? Doctor?" She added on quietly at the end, looking down to her hands when she realised she might just be speaking a bit out of term to a senior doctor.

"I want you to organise this desk. Forget about filing the paperwork, okay? Blank paper is what you need. Get people to write their names down if they can, one page for green, one for amber, one for red. Keep them in piles, then we know where people are when we have to log into the system after everyone's sorted. Get rid of this shit, start over."

Eddie's abdomen dug into the desk while he grabbed a large stack of paperwork and tossed it behind the desk onto the floor.

Forms were no good in an emergency, things needed to be plain and simple. Names, where they were being sent, that was all they needed right now. No insurance forms, no past discharge notes, just the main details. Names, dates of birth, allergies, that was it.

When Janice nodded, Eddie spun on his heels and looked around. Everyone was listening to him, people were more organised and it meant the nurses fluttering around here were helping the right people and they weren't stuck like headless chickens.

"If you just sit down here-"

"If he's amber sit on the left, if he's red move to the right but not in front of the bloody doors please." Eddie snapped, pointing across at the young nurse who was just about to sit an elderly man in front of the back doors that led off to the X-ray corridor.

Did people not use their brains? Where they all shutting down and waiting for Eddie to take charge? Was he going to have to order them all around and do their jobs for them? They couldn't sit someone in front of the doors because if they swung open that poor man would be knocked flying and he would be in a worse shape than when he arrived.

He could see the nurse bite down on her lip as if she might start crying and it made Eddie's heart spasm. But she held herself together. She put on a shallow smile and helped shuffle the man to the left and sit him down next to a cot bed with a young woman on.

"Doctor Diaz?" A timid voice broke Eddie out of his thoughts and had him spinning on his heels.

A young nurse. She couldn't have been more than twenty-five, maybe younger, he wasn't sure. Both her hands were clasped together in front of her and her fingers were scratching at the back of her hands. Her arms were shaking, elbows were pinned into her waist and her shoulders were hunched and pulled forwards.

She looked like she needed medical help with how anxious she was and Eddie wasn't sure if she was about to be sick or not. Tears were in her eyes and she was breathing shallow.

"Yes?" His tone was softer than before and he tried to smile to calm her down but it didn't seem to work.

"What- um, what do we do with the bodies?"

Her words stunned Eddie and he took a cautious look around. He had seen people looking like they were on Death's door, but no one seemed to have passed away yet. But when the nurse shakily pointed over her shoulder, Eddie saw.

He saw the body of a teenager, just a few years older than his own son. Not breathing. Not moving. Laid languidly on a cot bed as if he was passed out.

Eddie ran a hand across his face and took a strangled breath through his fingers.

He could feel his hands about to tremble with the adrenaline shooting through his system. He reached out, tensing his fingers to keep his hand from shaking and he gave her shoulder a squeeze before he spun to face the reception desk.

His nimble fingers scoured through the paperwork behind the desk until he found what he was looking for.

A black lanyard. A rectangle piece of paper, as black as night and as scratchy as hay. There were white lines for a name to be written across and a time, date and cause of death.

"Johnston! Gurney." Eddie waved the nurse over and walked the younger nurse back towards the patient. He handed her the lanyard. "Do we have a name?"

She shook her head.

"Then take him towards X-ray, out the side doors and into the foyer… he needs to be laid with the unidentified and recorded."

Eddie didn't want her taking the teen out through the ER doors. People were still coming in. No one deserved or needed to see a dead body being wheeled out, it would cause panic and it wasn't respectful. If they had a name then he could have been taken to the morgue. Without a name, he had to be laid in the tent with the other unidentified and the easiest way to get there without alarming people was through the X-ray corridor.

This was going to be a long day, and it had only just begun.

***

"We're nearly there, you just hang on for me, okay?" Tremors rattled through Buck's voice and gave away the sheer desperation welling up inside of him.

He continued to push the gurney with his right hand while his left hand deadlocked around his sister's palm. He could feel her hand, a mixture of sweat and salt water dribbling between their fingers, squeezing his tightly. And her nails that were split and had layers of mud stuck beneath them were scratching into the back of his hand. Holding tightly to let him know she was still hanging on, just like he asked.

The emergency room doors parted easily and allowed the 118 to glide straight through, but Buck's voice boomed over the rest of the sounds like a siren, demanding to be heard.

"Diaz! Where's Doctor Diaz?"

"Sir, we're very-"

"Get me Doctor Diaz now!" Buck all but slammed his foot down on the glistening tiled floor that was littered with smudges of blood, dirt and puddles of salt water that was as brown as milk chocolate.

He needed his brother in law. He needed Eddie. (Y/n) needed a doctor and the only one she needed right now was her husband.

Eddie spun on his heels, pen light clasped between his teeth and stethoscope hung around his neck. He looked over his shoulder, hands paused in mid air as he crouched in front of a young boy he was trying to assess.

It wasn't enough to direct people in the ER and try to create a system, Eddie was still a doctor and until he was called up to surgery, he had to assess people down here. He had to do his fair share, or more than his fair share when no one here seemed to be able to do their jobs properly. Eddie had assessed patients, sent them to X-ray, sent others to an MRI.

He had done CPR on an elderly woman, a tracheotomy on a middle-aged man choking on what he had inhaled during the floods. And he had the harsh job of sending another three people to the unidentified tent out in the foyer when they passed away.

But he knew that voice.

He knew that loud, sometimes obnoxious, but mostly caring voice that had risen an octave and sounded as distressed as Eddie had ever heard him.

Buck. His brother in law. Eddie thought his brother in law would be working today, this was an emergency and he knew Buck was all for helping anyone he could. But Eddie hadn't thought he would see Buck today, he thought their jobs would keep them separate and he would see him in a few days to talk and go over what had gone on today.

"Buck?" Paranoia flooded Eddie's voice as he narrowed his eyes and looked around the emergency room.

He found Buck easily. That sandy blond hair, damp and curled to the max. Those broad shoulders, towering over everyone else within reach. Those ocean blue eyes that held so much pain and panic within them that it physically made Eddie feel sick.

"Buck, what are you…"

(Y/n).

His wife. There she was. Not safely tucked up at home. Not at home snuggled up with Chris watching a movie or listening intently to the news.

She was laid on the gurney, looking worse for wear and clinging to her brother's hand.

What had happened?

"No, no no!" The pen light dropped to his feet, his hands began to shake and his shoes clicked against the floor as he skidded over towards his wife.

He didn't know the other people gathered round the gurney, but it didn't take much to work out that they had to be Buck's team who he worked with. There were three of them, to be exact, all gathered round the gurney like they were waiting for a premonition to take place.

The moment he reached the gurney, Eddie was stooping over. His trembling hands cupped (Y/n)'s face that was damp, although he couldn't tell whether it was sweat or sea water. His thumbs glided over her cheeks that were a mix of hot and cold all together, all at once. He creased his abdomen to double over the gurney and his elbows pinned into (Y/n)'s arms.

She shakily let go of her brother's hand and tried to open her eyes. They were still burning like the fires of Hell from all the water. She could barely breathe. She couldn't see properly. Eddie's figure looming over her was almost as if she was seeing an angel, guiding her to the afterlife.

A halo of light surrounded Eddie's frame, but (Y/n) just managed to make out the creases around his eyes, the bridge of his nose and those ruby red lips that were barely touching her own.

"Mi amor," Eddie didn't trust himself to speak properly and he couldn't drag his eyes away from his wife.

He pecked her lips, feeling just how frozen cold they felt against his own and it made him cringe. His thumbs continued to glide across her cheeks while he tilted his head to the right and looked up at his brother in law.

"Eddie," (Y/n)'s voice was quiet and each breath she took hitched higher than the last, but the look in her eyes had Eddie's heart breaking. She was relieved. She was staring at him like she had taken a long pilgrimage and had finally found safety and sanctuary with him.

She knew she was safe now.

"What happened- w-where's Chris?"

"We found them clinging on top of a swamped fire truck. Chris is in our truck, h-he's fine I swear. But you need to help her."

A small ounce of relief dwelled in Eddie's stomach. His son was safe. Chris was patched up and clearly didn't need any medical attention like (Y/n) did. They had found both of them and managed to get them out of the wreckage. (Y/n) had been saved by her brother and his team. She had managed to stay with Chris and not get separated, at least, not for very long. They had both been found.

"Let me look at you, mi amor." He hushed quietly and pecked her lips again before he reeled up enough to assess her.

His hands wandered up and down, checking for any deep abrasions or broken bones or anything that didn't seem right.

Both (Y/n)'s arms were pinned to her chest, but she deadlocked her hands around Eddie's arm. Tears flushed her face, sniffles and gasps left her split lips and she was trembling back and forth. Her knees were lifted up like she was trying to curl up and get into the fetal position to make herself feel better.

Eddie could see hundreds of cuts littering her arms and her exposed chest. Her shirt had been cut down the middle, presumably so they could assess her chest and there was a cut just under her fifth rib. It didn't look extensive, but it would need stitches.

When he tried to press down on her abdomen, (Y/n)'s knees jolted up and a mewling sob left her lips. Her head tilted back into the gurney, pushing her throat out and she gurgled through each breath.

"Hurts!"

"Shh, sorry baby, I'm sorry. Let me see, please." He gently moved her arms away so he could assess again but when he pressed down on the right side of her abdomen just above her hip, she coiled inwards again. "Intestine's ruptured. Shit."

"I'll go sit with Chris." Chimney patted Buck's shoulder before he jogged out, they didn't want to leave Chris sat on his own for too long.

"Her breathing's very laboured and mismatched." Hen had tried to assess (Y/n)'s chest, but she was still breathing. Every now and then she would cough or take five sharp, thin breaths all at once. She couldn't hear any water in her lungs and she was still breathing so that couldn't be the case.

Eddie swiped the stethoscope from his neck and pressed them to his ears. He let (Y/n) smother her face against his right arm while he leaned over her and pressed the stethoscope against her back to listen to her lungs.

But he suddenly felt (Y/n)'s forehead slamming into his arm and her fingers scraped through his jacket sleeves, digging into his arm so tightly she was cutting off his circulation.

He dropped the stethoscope and reached forward, taking the small torch light from Hen's top pocket before she could ask what he was doing.

He twisted (Y/n) so she was laying on her left side, facing him as he crouched down in front of the gurney.

"Open. Open up."

Eddie shone the light in her mouth and squinted to try and see if there was any obstruction.

(Y/n) clasped her fingers around his wrist, closing her eyes tightly as she started to shake. Something didn't feel right. Her chest felt constricted, her lungs weren't opening up and taking proper breaths anymore. She felt like she was going to be sick.

She could feel someone's hand at the back of her neck and when she started to cough, her body shuddered and she jerked her legs out when Eddie's hand moved to her mouth.

"I'm sorry- baby just keep breathing it's okay." Eddie grimaced as water spluttered past (Y/n)'s lips and dripped down onto the floor. He pushed his fingers past her lips towards the back of her throat, hating the way she squirmed and tried to push him away, but he could see she was choking on something.

Buck wrapped an arm around his front and gagged, turning his head away when he watched Eddie slowly pull a long stream of either seaweed or some sort of tangled up plant from (Y/n)'s lips. She must have inhaled it during the struggle when the first wave hit. She didn't even know she had inhaled that into her lungs.

Eddie tossed the seaweed onto the floor by his feet, shaking his hand, relieved he was wearing gloves for doing that.

"Janice!" He tossed his head to look over his shoulder at the receptionist who was dumbstruck, unsure what to do. "Find me an OR and a surgical team. Ruptured intestine, I need to operate now."

"Um… theatre four, floor two should be free."

"Someone bring Chris."

Eddie reeled up back to his full height, grabbed the edge of the stretcher and began steering them towards the back corridor through the middle of the ER. Chris could come up, he could wait in Eddie's office where Buck could wait with him once (Y/n) was in theatre and being looked after.

This was his worst nightmare. This was something Eddie had always been fearful of. Having his wife and son caught up in something horrid like this. He had been extremely lucky last year that Chris had been safe at school and (Y/n) had been at home when the Earthquake hit. Both of them had been out the way and in no danger.

Not like today. They had been caught up in this natural disaster and now Eddie had to operate on his wife. He had never done this before. He had stitched (Y/n) up at home a few times, but he had never had to operate on her or have her need any type of hospitalisation like this.

He wasn't supposed to operate on family members. It was too dangerous in case something happened or she died or Eddie made a mistake. But this was an emergency. All their staff had been redirected, no one was where they were supposed to be. Any doctor was being diverted to any theatre, operating room, ward and scan that they could to observe and help and intervene.

Eddie didn't have time to wait around for another colleague to come over and operate on (Y/n). He had done this procedure hundreds of times before and he wasn't going to trust anyone else to look after his wife the way he would.

"E-Eddie," (Y/n) gave a soft tug on Eddie's hand that she had confiscated and pinned against her chest. She could barely open her eyes to look up at him, but she was relieved when he leaned down and kissed her temple.

She managed to focus enough to watch him scan his badge against the doors and guide them out of the emergency room and into a more secluded corridor with less casualties around ever corner.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Don't l…leave me."

"I'm not going anywhere without you, mi amor." He kissed the back of her hand before the three of them crammed into the lift.

Bobby was hanging back with Hen, waiting for Chimney to come out with Chris so they could catch them up. The team weren't leaving, they would wait and stay with Buck so they could comfort him and wait on any news of his little sister. It had been a stroke of luck that they had found (Y/n) rather than any other team. Buck had made it his mission to look after his sister and he told them exactly which hospital to go to, although none of them had known why Buck was fixated on this hospital. Until they saw Eddie.

Once they were up on the second floor, Eddie flagged down a passing nurse before he turned to face Buck.

"My office is around that corner, second door on the left. I'll find you as soon as it's done." He unclipped his keycard from his scrubs and handed it over. Buck was welcome to wait in his office, Chris had been in there hundreds of times before so he would know where to go and he would be okay there. Chris had a few of his books in the office to occupy him.

Once Buck headed back into the lift so he could go find the rest of the team, Eddie began his descent down the corridor, pushing the gurney single-handed.

"Okay, reception said we have an emergency?" Cranston placed his hands on his hips and stood outside the empty operating room he had been told to get scrubbed up for another surgery.

But once his eyes landed on the girl on the stretcher, his hands fell at his sides and he shook his head. (Y/n). He had seen her here many times when she came to visit Eddie or when she brought Chris down for a visit. Eddie couldn't be here for this. He couldn't be the leading surgeon, he wasn't allowed.

"No, Diaz you can't-"

"No one else is touching my wife. I'm her doctor now, got it?"

[binniesthighs]

1-800-Be-Mine | reader x minho | sfw

happy valentines day!! this lil fic of mine is something very new and different from what I’ve tried before and I’m so so excited to share it with you!!

Pairing: self insert, gender neutral reader x lee minho

Genre: fluff, sci-fi, futuristic au, valentines day special! 

Tags: strangers to lovers, sci-fi au, futuristic au, blind date au, AI au with a twist, mentions of food and alcohol, featuring hyunjin, tiny heart-shaped confetti of comedy and rebelling against the man lol, fluffy growing feelings 

Warnings: Minho’s character in this is an adorable, charming, feeling, AI robot. haha idk if this is a warning but it might not be everyone’s cup o’ tea, if so, that’s why I’m mentioning it :) 

Tagging: @stayhavens​ thank you for allowing me to be a part of this event ❤️

Word count: 7.1k 

“If it’s the color of your shirt that you’re worried about, I don’t think that he’s gonna care.” 

“--I can’t believe that you’re putting me through this. I didn’t even ask for...whatever the hell this all is.” 

“You’re getting worked up over nothing, Y/n. This whole thing is literally the lowest commitment thing that you could ever do on Valentines Day.” 

For the twentieth time, you held up the shirt and hanger over your torso in front of you streak-stained mirror. It shouldn’t have mattered much, or even at all, but here you were, wondering what color a synthetic human would like on your body the most. 

With feet in the air, your best friend swung his feet with pointed toes and eyes glued to his phone. 

“Quit looking at me like that.” Hyunjin didn’t even need to rise his head up to feel your glare. “He’s programmed to forget about you the second that your time runs out, so, I really don’t know why you’re wasting your time over this.” 

One more time, you switched the creamy white satin for the wine-red velvet. 

“God, this is so depressing.” The shirt hangers clinked together where you threw them down on your bed. “It’s all your fault too.” 

“I can’t see why you aren’t excited for this!! I literally made it so he’s perfect for you. There’s like, a 0% chance that this is gonna go badly. You could spit escargot into his lap or get his tie stuck in the car door and he’d still think that you’re the best thing ever. You can do no wrong.” 

“That’s the point...” 

The floor started to look a lot more appealing in your despair. If you were making a dramatic show for yourself or for you friend, you had no idea, but somehow it felt a little better letting your body sliiide down the side of the wall into a little pool of half-done make-up and hair still damp.  

“Stop throwing a tantrum.” Hyunjin scolded. “You have to be there in 45 minutes.” 

“What if I...just don’t show up?” 

“Then, you’d be robbing me of $360 and the most expensive gift that I’ve ever gotten for you. And, you’d break my heart. I don’t wanna be heartbroken on Valentines Day. I’d hate you forever.” 

“Nooooo you wouldn’t.” You tossed your forehead into the palms of your hands. 

“I’d hate you for a month probably.” 

“Don’t you have somewhere that you need to be?” As expected, your hands were smudged a bit from the tiny dusting of eyeshadow that you had added to your lids. 

“I told you already, she doesn’t get off until 8 so I’ve still got time. Besides, I already set everything up back at the apartment. I’m in no rush.” At last, your friend cast aside his phone on the mattress with a bounce. “Get up. I’ll help you. You should still look nice anyway...even if he doesn’t care. This night is about you anyway.” 

»»————-　♡　————-««

Is satin supposed to feel scratchy...? What? Satin being itchy? ...You must be going crazy if you think-- 

“--Annnd we’re here!” 

The wheels of Hyunjin’s less than glamourous car skidded in front of the hotel with an obvious screech. He was never one for being a good driver anyway. With the pull of his hand through is blond hair he nodded his head for you to open your door. 

“Time’s ticking. It’s nearly 7.” 

“--Jin--” 

“I’m not explaining it again. Just go do the damn thing. You’re overthinking it. Like you do with everything...” 

Your best friend rolled his eyes which were blue today: a part of his own Valentines Day outfit: that of which he looked much better than you thought you had. He had slung his arm over his steering wheel looking on, and even more impatient with you by the second. 

“Is it a fucking crime to be nervous??” 

Hyunjin laughed out sharply. “You’re so cute. ~Especially when there isn’t anything to worry about.~” 

You flicked him hard on his perfect arm covered by his perfectly planned and billowy white top. 

“Would you like to go out there and meet him if it’s so easy?” 

After a subsequent eye roll, your friend reached his long arm to pop open the car door on your side. “You’re not going to make me drag you, are you?” 

“I can get it myself.” You growled, shoving his hand away. 

The February air was crisp, and just cold enough for your breath to appear lightly in front of your face. Immediately, you started to regret everything: the itchy satin shirt (which you guessed probably wasn’t satin) the stiffness of your styled hair, and the way that your feet felt in the pair of shoes that you had broken out just for the occasion. You had even put perfume on; something that a “strictly deodorant” person as yourself found to be suffocating and odd. 

Do Mirrors even have a sense of smell? 

On the busy street, cars whipped past with headlights of yellow and red, and the bustle of the holiday evening buzzed on the sidewalk with couples marching down the way arm and arm and hand in hand. The energy of the evening seemed vibrant almost as if the whole world seemed to be slightly more awake. The plastic heels of ladies in their best shoes clicked past. 

“Good luck!” 

Hyunjin mustered up the most genuine smile that you thought possible for him to craft considering it wasn’t genuine in the slightest. 

“Text me about it tonight--or--actually, not tonight, I’ll be...” He obviously winked, “...busy tonight.”  

“You’re disgusting!!” 

You slammed the car door in Hyunjin’s snide smirk while he laughed out a “Love you!” before speeding away without a care. 

The remnants of old snow caked up in the corners of the hotel where Hyunjin had arranged the date. The hotel itself was very old fashioned looking, almost like it had come right out of one of those old movies he would tease you for liking--it was probably why he had chosen it, you thought to yourself. There was a large golden marquee with a strand of lightbulbs tracing the edge all around it much like an old-timey theater, which gave the name for the hotel. At the doorway made of the same golden hue, there were attentive bellhops in matching blue velvet uniforms and leather gloves that they blew in to to keep their hands warm. 

When you thought more of it, the night was a bit colder than expected, so you pulled your coat closer to your body. Hyunjin had suggested that you wear your pea coat, however it’s warmth factor wasn’t something to write home about. He had something about how it had made your arms look good...as if he would care anything like what your arms looked like. 

You pulled out your phone with your cold fingers to find the information that Hyunjin had sent you. 

Name: Lee Minho 

Model: Generation Four 

Specifications: Personalized 

Service time: 7pm-12am 

Instructions: Meet at the front entrance of the the hotel The Grand at exactly 7pm where the Mirror will be waiting. Mirror will look like: [see image] 

You hovered your hand over the little see image tab. Before, you had decided that you didn’t want to see the picture, and rather leave it as a surprise. That was the thrill of a blind date, right? For a moment, you rationalized it as peeking so that you knew what he looked like so you could find him. You hovered, and hovered... 

“No, I shouldn’t...” You whispered out to the open air while you shoved your phone back into your pocket. 

“Excuse me?” One of those attentive bellhops had snuck behind you and rose a caring hand to your shoulder: an action which made you jump. “Is there anything that I can help you with? Are you waiting for someone?” 

“Oh.” You straightened yourself. “Yes, I am waiting for someone. They’ll be here really--” 

“--Is it me that you’re waiting for?” 

He had strolled right up to you, and you could barely form the words on your mouth to say “yes.” You had heard the stories about Mirrors before, but as far as you had known, this was your first time ever seeing one this close...and you wouldn’t have even known that he was any different from the flesh and bones that you knew you had. 

He was devastatingly handsome; the kind of handsome that models were. Every single one of his features seemed to be carefully planned and calculated down to the little freckle on his nostril and his nose bridge of a perfect angle. Even his physical proportions seemed to be perfect: his arm muscles curved in wonderful angles under his black suit jacket that had one button at the front. He was dressed simply: merely a black tux with a white button up underneath and a deep navy blue tie. His chocolate brown eyes were a bit unique, looking even slightly cat-like. 

Not like you had a type, but if you were to have one, he definitely would have been it. 

He smiled upon seeing you, and coolly adjusted his silver cufflinks which you noticed had an insignia on them that looked a familiar: it was that picture of the eye with the spokes around it, the symbol of 3rdEyeCorp. As expected, everything in life seemed to come with a branding: even synthetic humans. 

“Should we go inside?” 

His voice was gentle and soothing, the kind of voice that you knew could lull you to sleep or convince you to do things that you wouldn’t want to. It was a voice that could put you at ease, and you wondered if that was intentional. Perhaps Hyunjin had told them that at times you could be neurotic. 

You finally squeaked out a, “Yes.” then followed him towards the soft glow of the magnificent building. He had slipped over past you to open the door, letting you enter first. 

“Oh...thanks...” 

As you passed him, you could have sworn that he smelled like some kind of citrus scent. In fact, you didn’t know that he could even have a smell. This was but one of the many questions that had been plaguing you for the past couple weeks since learning of Hyunjin’s plan. 

It wasn’t that he smelled like a person: that kind of earthy scene mixed up with the lingering scent of shampoo on hair, or a bit of mint holding to the corners of your mouth after you had brushed your teeth right before you exited the door. Still, you didn’t mind the citrus, it was better than nothing at all, you assumed. 

He walked up to the maître d with perfect posture, and it was then when you noticed that you were slightly shorter that he was. His suit was pressed, and a line ran down the back directly over his spine. 

“2 for L/n?” He said properly, and it felt strange hearing your last name come from his mouth. 

“Right this way.” 

He looked back at you, almost as if to see if you were doing okay. He held a little glint in his eyes that looked careful, caring even. From the very few words that he had said to you, he still maintained a composure about him that was...human. He was comfortable. 

The three of you reached the table with the ironed white table cloth, small bouquet of red roses and two flickering tea candles. The lighting of the room was dim as all restaurants such as this were, and there was a light hum about the room coupled with the occasional clink of silverware on China. There was a fireplace to the corner of the room, and the dense smell of expensive wine hung in the air. 

The maître d placed down the menus. “Your server will be with you shortly.”

You thought the small action a bit comical. You were the only one who knew his secret. Still, he nodded with a polite smile. “Thank you.” 

The satin fabric on your shirt scraped at your bare chest, and you attempted your slyest attempt at making a tiny itch look nonchalant. He picked up the menu with a few of his brown strands dipping over his eyes. You studied him as he looked it over, not having a clue why. You thought that you had heard somewhere that his kind couldn’t eat. Perhaps he was a new model. 

“I’m sorry. I haven’t formally introduced myself yet.” He put the menu down with a little embarrassed smile. “I must’ve forgotten. I’m Lee Minho.” 

“I know.” Your cheeks felt hot. “Uh-and I’m Y/n. But--you probably knew that too.” 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Smile lines crinkled under his eyes. It was the first imperfection you could find about him. 

“Yo-you too.” 

Minho reached out a slender and pale hand for you to shake and you stared it in a moment of fear. You had never touched a Mirror before, much less wondered what they felt like. 

“I don’t bite.” He chuckled out a small laugh that was much too cute for his own good. His shoulders then appeared to relax and he allowed himself to slouch. “At least, my model doesn’t.” 

You choked out an ugly chortle at the joke. “Ah. I see.” 

“You don’t have to be scared of me. I promise that I feel like anyone else.”

You took it, jumping a little at the sensation. He was warm--not exactly like you expected him to be cold and metallic however. The skin of his hand was cracked and grooved as normal, and it was squishy as if you could feel the muscles that would be underneath. 

With a warm grin, he soothed you saying, “See?” 

‘Oh...mmhm.” You shook his hand firmly. “Holy shit that's really creepy.” You muttered the words as softly as you thought you could have. 

“Creepy?” He laughed out again. “Should I be offended? No one has ever called me creepy before.” 

“Oh! Um, s-sorry, I didn’t mean--” 

“--It’s okay! I was just kidding. I completely understand. Especially if this is your first time meeting someone like me. It is your first time?” 

You nodded drawing your hand back with the warmth from his hand still lingering on yours. 

“Let me know if there is anything that I can do to make you more comfortable. Seems like...we’re meant to be too.” 

“--Meant to be?” You nearly dropped your cloth napkin to the ground. 

“I mean, based off of your profile, they thought that I would be best suited for you. And you know...the programming and all that.” 

“Oh! I guess so...” 

Next, you thought it best to busy yourself with that glass of water that was looking very oddly refreshing. 

“I meant to tell you as well that you look very nice. I think that color suits you very well.” 

Drops of water got caught in your throat, “T-AHEM-this?” You pinched at the fabric. 

Minho’s eyes widened at your sputtering coughs, signaling to a waiter to come fill your glass once more. 

“Sorry, was I not supposed to say that?” 

“No! No no, it’s...you’re fine. I was just a little surprised.” 

“Surprised? Why?” 

“I just didn’t think that you would...nevermind.” 

Even though you had nearly choked yourself seconds ago, up went your water glass to your lips once more. 

Minho fidgeted with his bangs with his pinky finger: a surprisingly vain little task. Under the dull lighting of the whole room, he did look very handsome; almost much too handsome to be in such a place with you. All at once, you became suddenly aware of the irregular patterns of those eyes peeking at you from their own tables with haughty and whispering words on their lips. 

“You look...very nice as well.” 

“Mm thank you.” As charming as ever, he gave a smile back. “This is my first time wearing this. I actually picked it out myself. I thought that you would like the color.” His pale fingers ran down the silk indigo tie. 

“You thought about it too??” 

“Thought about what?” 

A snide smile crept over your mouth. Hyunjin could eat his words. 

“Well do you? Like it?” A curious little smearing of worry painted Minho’s brow that was once again must too cute for his own good. 

“I-I do like it.” 

In all honesty, Minho would have looked good in anything, you thought, no matter how ridiculous. Under the thin white cotton of his shirt, you could see his toned pectorals as well. One pinch to the side of your leg was just enough to scold yourself. 

He looked around himself in a bit of a silent wonder: from the rafters of the high ceilings painted in gold leaf, to the speakeasy on the far edge of the room with the posh looking bartender.  

“I always thought that places like this were kind of stuffy.” He wrinkled his nose. 

“You...what?” 

“There's always someone at one table wondering if they look better, rank higher, or are more successful than the person at the other. Don’t you think the same?” 

“I mean...I think they do keep looking us?” 

“Ah. I noticed that too.” 

Minho looked around himself carefully, then leaned in closer towards you. “Do you think that they know that I’m...you know?” 

You snorted out a laugh covered by your hand. “What? No? How could they?” 

“A hunch.” 

“Can you even get hunches?” 

“I may be a robot, but I can still read a room.” 

You hushed him, “Shhhh! Say that any louder and then they’ll really know.” 

A waiter in a black apron sauntered up to your table with a thin moustache and a big of a sagging face. He looked a bit less like a real waiter and more like a cartoon one. 

“Good evening. Have you finished looking over the menus? Perhaps a bottle of wine to start you off? We have a new house merlot that I would highly  recommend.” He reached a spiny finger to point at the name on your menu. “It would pair particularly well with our specials tonight. Seeing as it is Valentines day--” 

The droning of the waiter continued on, and you had noticed that Minho wasn’t paying any attention at all. Rather, he had settled his gaze on the flickering of the candles, and the yellow light sparked in his pupils. For mere seconds, you could see something a bit different about them: a extremely thin circle of blue-white light around his irises.  

The waiter pulled out his pad with an expectant gaze. 

“Uh-yeah, I-I’ll take that. That--whatever-you-just-mentioned.” 

He appeared puzzled. “You wish to start with the special orange Crème Brule first?” 

“Ah-no! Sorry, can you..” You cringed, “Repeat what you just said?” 

He rolled his eyes, but did respectfully as he was told while you sunk further into your chair with Minho’s teasing smirk. This time you listened to the specials, even though you decided you didn’t even want one, but rather picked one of the cheapest items on the menu. That was one of the drawbacks of paying for your date: he had no obligation to pay for your meal. 

The waiter looked even more puzzled when Minho said he wasn’t ordering anything, but shrugged, burying his pad back into his pocket saying, “I’ll be over with the wine shortly.” 

“Do you want to know something?” Minho leaned back in once the waiter was out of an earshot. 

You treated yourself to yet another sip of your emptying glass, and nodded. 

“There’s at least four others like me in here.” 

“Four? How can you know?” 

“I think I’d know my own kind when I saw them.” 

“I would never be able to tell.” 

The waiter returned, showing the label to the wine to both of you before popping it open and pouring it into glasses with the twist of his wrist. Two drops from the crimson top stained the little napkin he used. 

Minho’s hands toyed with the stem of the glass, but didn’t take a sip. 

“That’s why they call us Mirrors.” 

“How do you mean?” 

“Because you’re supposed to see yourselves in us.” 

»»————-　♡　————-««

Your body had started to warm with the energy of the room after long, and your appetizer of escargot had arrived. Oddly, since Hyunjin had mentioned it before, it embedded in you an odd craving that you couldn’t satisfy until you had some. By now, you had realized that Minho likely wouldn’t have been eating with you, but it was strange: even the other Mirrors in the room appeared to be. 

“I’m assuming that you can’t eat then?” You popped the buttery taste into your mouth.  

“Yes. It doesn’t make sense for my...biology. If you can call it that. I can’t digest food nor do I have the mechanisms to do so.” 

“Maybe we should have done something that didn’t include food then.” 

“I do have something though! I know that eating alone like this can be uncomfortable.” 

He grabbed inside his inside suit pocket and pulled out a wallet: thin and black leather. It had almost nothing in it save for what looked like a iridescent square. Over top of it was the same logo on his cufflinks. He flipped it around his fingers like a playing card. 

“What is it?” 

“My dinner.” He sated matter-of-factly. 

“You’re gonna...eat that? Maybe you shouldn’t--”

He placed it neatly in front of himself, pressing the surface and it morphed into some kind of three dimensional polygon shape of pixels, both large and small, until it settled into a perfect copy of your dish that you had sitting in front of you. 

“It’s holographic.” 

“Of course it is.” 

“Newest in tech at 3rdEye. This is my first time using one. They thought it would be a good idea to send the prototypes out with the Mirrors tonight for the beta test. What do you think?” 

“It’s very...realistic.” 

“It’s pocket sized, and it can really transform into anything that you could want, but of course...its still not really solid. Perfect for me though.” 

He took a bite of his escargot with an equally holographic fork. 

“I imagine that it tastes very good.” 

“You can’t taste things?” 

“Unfortunately, no. Since I don’t need to eat, don’t know why I would need to. I’ve got all the other senses though.” 

The house merlot was bitter on your tongue and full bodied. You couldn’t imagine what your life would have been like without taste. He chewed on, and somehow the action really did seem comforting. 

“You’re very um, open about yourself. You know...talking about yourself so bluntly. I feel like some people when they do these things, they just want to keep on that suspension of disbelief as long as they can; pretending that you're--” 

“--A real person?” 

You hadn’t intended on it coming off as insulting, and a “sorry” formed on your lips. 

“--I’m not offended. And, you’re right. Most people do. But, I could sense that you were different. I don’t have a problem telling you about me. Something told me that you would like to know.” 

“Something?” 

“Enough about me though, lets talk about you. You’re a doctor aren’t you?” 

“-For animals. Nothing too crazy. I’m working up my way to have my own practice some day. For now, I’m just doing nurse type stuff. Giving immunizations, checking teeth and stuff like that.” 

“I read your thesis. The one from your pre-vet. I thought that your research was very interesting. How come you didn’t continue on with animal behavior?” 

His string of questions made you crack out into laughter. Never had anyone you had ever dated said that they had read up on you. 

“I can’t believe that you just said that.” 

“What? I had assumed that you might want to talk about something that interests you like that.” 

“That was...so long ago, I don’t even think about that paper anymore.” 

Minho took some of his wine down with a polite dab of his napkin to his lips. 

“How about hiking then? Or those Frank Capra movies that you like? Which one is your favorite?” 

“Stop, stop. This is--” 

His eyes widened. “Did I misspeak again? Your friend said that it would be okay if we did the proper research--” 

“--Just...sorry, it’s strange that you know everything about me already and we’ve hardly just met.” 

“I’m not following.” 

“Can you just...forget like, everything you know about me for a minute? This is supposed to be a blind date isn’t it?” 

“I can do that.” Minho tightened his tie. 

“How about we talk about something else?” 

Minho nodded in agreement with a determined tiny grin. “I can tell you about what I do?” 

“You have a job?” 

Your prompt waiter appeared with a giant silver platter which glinted in the light of the numerous dancing candles around it. The ceramic plates clinked into the glasses assorted on the table, and he lastly offered out freshly grated parmesan for your pasta. You said “when” and he was just as quickly out of your way, but not after granting the both of you one more questioning glare. 

“Yes.” 

Your date flipped over his holographic square, and soon it transformed into another spitting image of your meal. 

“I’m supposed to tell you that I’m a college professor of ornithology but since we’re being blunt here, my job is working for 3rdEye, and doing basically whatever they ask of me. Including this. And actually...” He twisted a string of noodles around his fork. “...I think that it’s going pretty well.” 

A quick giggle erupted out from you. “I’m glad that we’re being honest because you do not look like someone who teaches twenty somethings about birds.” 

“But if I had said I did, would that have made you like me more?” 

“Maybe. I’m sure that they picked that because I did graduate research on migration and flight patterns.” 

“Likely.” 

“Maybe I should have stuck with animal behavior. Then we would have had more to talk about.” 

A silence filled the space between you as you tried your best to eat your pasta with as much grace as you could. Of course, you were still one to get it on your lap and the table cloth, but luckily you had a napkin to protect you. Your date on the other hand, ate as if he was eating with the queen herself. For several moments, you really did allow yourself those brief moments of ignorance: you really were just two people, sitting in a fancy restaurant on Valentines Day, eating a meal together, on a date, as an normal two people would do. Every few moments too, he would look at you with a type of gentle adoration in his eyes too. 

And it felt nice. 

It really was as effortless as Hyunjin had said. You would be eating your words on this one. 

At last, you had scraped out the last chunks of tomato and vegetable bites from your shallow dish, and you sat back which a sense of drowsiness clinging to your eyes. Over time, you had slumped deeper and deeper into your chair as you felt your body warm with the fireplace. You didn’t mean to look, but your watch had read just past 9 o’clock. 

“That all tasted good.” Minho sighed, and slumped along with you. 

“I thought you couldn’t taste?” 

“Ah. You’re right. Well, I enjoyed eating that with you. Did it taste good?” 

“It did.” 

“Should we get some of that orange Crème Brule from earlier?” 

You folded up your napkin on the table. “You mean should I get some of that Crème Brule? I’m the one paying here remember?” 

“Are you?” 

With the stretch of your arms, you answered, “Not today. I don’t have that doctor’s pay...yet.” 

“But shouldn’t you eat something sweet on Valentines Day? Isn’t that also what its about?” 

You laughed, “I don’t know where you heard that, but no, it doesn’t.” 

“Ah, I see. My understanding of the holiday is very jumbled. Holidays are like that for us. The sort of emotional attachment to them is hard for us to understand. I’ve watched millions of hours of films to understand them...but--” 

“--Millions?” 

“Yes?” 

“That’s…insane.” 

“Not for me.” He said with a happy little grin. “Should we be leaving?” 

In one motion, he swept up his shirt sleeve, just over his wrist where you had expected him to have a watch. Instead, a faint blue glow emerged on his skin making letters and numbers that you couldn’t read as well from upside down. 

“Hm. 3 more hours. What else would you like to do with our time together?” 

»»————-　♡　————-««

The winter cold bit at your ears while the two of you walked together down the busy urban stretch. Even later into the night the giddy excitement of friends ambling down the streets and couples linking to eachother with tipsy happiness could still be found everywhere. You barely knew him, but you still felt in some way compelled to reach out and interlock your arm with his as those other couples did. You had a half a mind to reach out to him, but another half a mind to keep your arms wrapped around yourself. 

But, as if he had read your mind, he reached out his hand behind him to quietly slip your arm into his. 

“Put your hands in your pockets.” He asked, and you did so. “I figured that you must be cold, so...my body heats itself too, makes me more...you know.” 

He was warm. Much warmer than your entire body felt had felt then, but still you noted that the tips of his ears and nose had turned pink. 

“Where to?” He questioned next. 

“I-I’m not sure. I didn’t think this far.” 

“I could pick?” 

“You know where to go?” 

He was silent for a moment, then nodded. “There’s a place that I wouldn’t mind going to. Do you know how to skate?” 

“Ice...skate?” 

He huffed out with a tiny smile, and you noticed that when he did, no visible molecules could be seen in front of his face. 

“Do you? I can pick something else? It’s not everyone’s skill.” 

“N-no. I can do it.” 

You don’t know why you had said it: perhaps you felt as if you had something to prove to this inhuman person, or you really did want to go there with him, no matter where it was. 

You had never learned how to skate in your life. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

The ice rink was lined with pink and white string lights: likely a Valentines Day decoration. Plastic hearts made of fuzzy tinsel also decorated the edges of the rink and sparkled under the lights. It had been built into the center of a public park, and bodies huddled in winter coats sat together on the benches to the side, waving at those they knew when they slipped past. Tinny music played over the outdoor speakers: it was some pop song that you had heard before, but didn’t know the name of. 

Minho laced up your skates for you, and even then you noticed that his knuckles had turned pink too. 

“Are you...cold?” 

“Oh! This?” He turned his hands around. “No, I’m not. it’s just another one of my humanisms.” 

“Humanisms?” 

“Something to make me look more like you. When it’s cold outside my body senses it and does this.” 

“I see.” 

Even if you knew that he couldn’t possibly feel things in the same why, he was damn convincing--and you couldn’t help but think it was unbearably cute as well. 

“Done! You ready? You can take my hand if you want?” 

You stood wobbly as a deer taking its first steps. Walking on the blades was much more difficult than you would have guessed. He didn’t need to ask twice for you to grab hold. 

“I’m assuming that you know how to do this?” 

“There’s a lot of things that I know how to do.” He winked. 

The second that your feet met the ice, you felt your heart start beating into overdrive with your anxiety of falling. Over the ice, it too felt colder, and that didn’t help much either. With one hand you clawed to the side of the rink, and the other dug into Minho’s arm. 

“I thought that you said that you knew how to skate?” 

“I lied. I’m gonna fall on my fricking face and its gonna be the most embarrassing thing ever. Worse than spitting escargot into your lap.” 

“Spitting escargot? What?” 

“Just--can you help me?” 

He tittered with an adorably warm laugh and grabbed back at you firmly. “I won’t let go.” 

Even the toddlers in their little training bumpers were more skilled than you. Minho was patient, and coached you through the skills of the left and right motions of your feet and getting into a rhythm. You still flapped your arms around wildly like a wobbly penguin, but he was eventually able to coax you away from the wall.

“See! You’re getting the hang of it!” 

“Really?” 

Minho nodded profusely, letting go of both of your hands to hold just one. “Stop looking at your feet and just look at me. You’ll trip yourself up focusing so hard.” 

Other couples whipped past you, and you thought it best not to look at how easy it was for them. 

“I-I think that I’m doing it!” 

Minho’s eyes lit seeing you start to swing your feet back and forth. In that pink lighting of the rink, you could see that thin ring of light around his eyes once more. Even though it was unnatural, you still thought that it looked beautiful. 

“WATCH OUT!!” Came a distant voice from behind you. 

Before you had a second to turn around, a fuzzy blur came barreling into you. Two small bodies: a couple middle school boys chasing each other, came colliding with your teetering body, forcing you to fall to the hard ice with a terrible thud. 

“Oh my God! Are you okay?” One of their pre-pubescent voices cracked. 

“I-I’m fine...I think.” 

Your air had been knocked right out of your lungs and your butt ached with a sharp pain that you hoped you wouldn’t be feeling for days. Both of your hands were wet with ice from the contact. Minho quickly offered you his hand up.

“-You okay?” He brushed ice off of your coat. 

Truthfully, you were horribly shaken, and your chest shook, but you lied once more. “I’m okay. Don’t worry about me.” 

“No you’re not.” His worried eyes studied you. “Lets get you something warm to drink okay?” 

»»————-　♡　————-««

“One hot chocolate please.” 

Minho fiddled with his wallet, picking out that same iridescent square from before. As soon as his fingers touched it, it glimmered into a credit card. 

“It can do that?” You had uttered, but he gave you back a cautious glare. 

The man at the little coffee stand took it without question, and somehow, it worked. 

“$3.15″ He monotoned, and gave the card back. 

The white Styrofoam cup warmed your hands instantly, and the chocolatey steam delighted your nostrils. 

“Thank you. You didn’t have to.” 

“It’s no problem. I wanted to.” 

You took a sip, but a strange silence befell over your date, and he furrowed his brows. 

Under his breath, he repeated the word “...wanted?” 

The further that you walked along the river together, the less that you wanted to take another look at your watch where it peaked out from your coat sleeve. You imagined that it must have been nearing almost 10:30--optimistically. Instead, you took long and purposeful sips of of your drink and indulged in the way that the heat would seep down from your throat and all the way down your body. 

Onward, one of the great and massive bridges of the city blinked with an array of multicolored lights: some from cars, others from the way that it was decorated to look a bit like shining stars. Under the lights, the navy-black of the river reflected the fractals of light. The walkway was nearly empty of people except for the odd couple sitting and cuddled up by the edge of the water. The water should have been frozen, but it didn’t appear to be giving up just yet. 

Your companion had drawn quiet with eyes cast down to his walking feet. You had half a mind to reach out to him... 

“Is there anything you would like to do?” Your question filled the quiet, but you didn’t expect him to stop in his steps upon hearing it. 

“Are you asking me if there is anything that I want do to?” 

“Yes...?” 

Minho was again quiet, then turned to look at the vast expanse of the cityscape in front of you both. 

Suddenly, he began, “Valentines Day is a holiday that has to do with loving, doesn’t it?” 

You stammered at the question in your confusion, but still answered. “Yes.” 

“You express love on the holiday? You show people that you love them, and that you care for them. Right?” 

“I think so...but why are--” 

“--What do you think that it means to love something?” 

Distantly, cars honked, and music boomed out from drawn down windows, and it floated in the evening air. 

For you, loving was something that was second nature. It was little bits of happiness, fuzzy feelings, but it also ached, and felt like being lost. How could you possibly begin to describe what it meant? 

Minho’s eyes were full of intrigue and even maybe a twinge of desperation. Could Mirrors even hold such a thing in their eyes? 

“I-I’m not sure how to cover it all, but, I guess that I could say that loving something, or someone, is to want them. You want to be around them, you want to see them laugh or smile, you want to make them feel that you care. I don’t think that it is much more complicated than that. 

The man appeared even more confused, almost like he had been computing his own mental calculations right before his very eyes. Then, all at once, his eyes softened. 

“If loving something is to want it; to have desire, desiring is the first step? Love must be simplier than I thought that it was, and maybe...I think that I can do it.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

Minho swept up his hands in yours after casting aside the cup to the ground. 

“You asked me if I wanted to do something. But the thing is...I don’t think I’ve ever wanted do to anything ever before in my life. It was just, what others wanted of me and what I colud do for them. Not me.” 

Realization swept over Minho piece by piece, and soon it all unfolded for you too. 

He drew your arms and hands around the back of his neck to pull your body closer to his. 

You might’ve looked before, but his lips looked soft and unbelievably sweet: like melting snowflakes, whipped cream, or the fuzzy flesh of peaches. 

“I do want something.” He said at last. 

“Minho...what are you saying?” 

“I-I can’t tell if what it is that I’m feeling is some kind of algorithm, or I’m just...you’re so...different.” 

“I hope that you’re not just saying this all--” 

“--I’m not! I’m not. I promise...an-and Mirrors can’t lie.” He laughed out. “How can you make a machine that’ll lie to you?” 

His hands crept up your sides, and all the way up to cup your face in his hands.

He was impossible. In every way, but he was real. As real as the warmth from his hands and as real as the way that his mouth appeared to wet with saliva and how you could count the tiny moles on his face. 

“Well, what is it that you--”

He had drawn your face close up into his, then closed any space that divided the two of you. Your lips parted with his into a meeting of his plush lips that were even softer than you had imagined. Even though you knew he couldn’t taste it, you flooded the taste of chocolate into his mouth, and your body shivered in the way that he ran his tongue over your bottom lip. He wasn’t intrusive, but rather curious, and thrilled. Any semblance of him that was any less than the skin that you felt on yours faded, and you poured yourself all back to him. His fingers held fast to the sides of your face while he kissed back every with every bit of him that he could. Even in the one moment when your eyes had fluttered open, he held his eyes closed, to focus only on you. Your own wondering hands laced into his fuzzy locks. 

Each and every kiss that he painted across your lips was laced with indescribable want: something that he shouldn’t have even known, but you could feel it. He echoed the smile that you had pressed into his lips. 

“I just want to be with you tonight. Just a bit longer. No more timers.” Minho whispered onto your mouth, barely breaking. 

On the one hand, his request terrified you. A Mirror, one who you thought to be unfeeling, pre-programmed, an empty shell, wanted you. But still, you couldn’t control yourself from wanting him back, and everything about him that you knew and didn’t know. Wanting him, was the simplest thing you could have done. 

“I-I want that too.” 

His smile was thankful, and suddenly every little way that his eyes would crinkle or the corners of his mouth would upturn seemed more genuine. 

Minho traced your hands to the back of your his neck where he guided them to the tip of his spine. 

“Touch here.” He guided your fingertip over what felt like a bone. “Press down.” 

You did so, and the patch of skin sunk down a bit like a button. You held his eyes which flickered wholly with that blue-white light you had taken notice of before. 

“Say “Bypass LK2510.” “ 

He held your finger down still, and you repeated the phrase, watching as the light vanished all at once, even that thin ring around his irises. 

“What did that do?” 

Minho blinked a couple time like he was ridding sleep from his eyes, then beamed with a grin that only got wider and wider. “They shouldn’t know where I am for a while. You disabled my tracker.” 

“I did what??? Can’t I get in trouble for that??” 

“Not when I made you do it.” 

In his delight, he pressed his lips back up against yours with a kind of light air that was ecstatic and hurried--it was contagious, and the feeling swept over you until you were just as giddy. You were nearly as giddy as a school child reveling in the mischief of knowing what they were doing was against the classroom rules. 

Your chest swelled with nervous excitement, but it wasn’t nearly as addictive as any drug that you could imagine. 

“Where do you want to go now?” You asked him with hands clinging to the sides of his coat. 

“Anywhere.” 

~~

[nsfw version/ending coming soon on binniesthighs!] 

[maticide666]

my eurovision top 39 songs (finally)

anyway i finally got my top 39 completed. under a read more because it can get kinda long with the commentary i added klfdja;sflk (and by that i mean VERY long, maybe a wall of text if i have a lot to say about the song.)

none of this takes rehearsals into account.

basically, 39-37 i don't like, 36-35 are meh, 34-25 are decent, 24-18 are good, 17-12 i enjoy listening to a lot, 11-4 i love, and I would pay for votes for top 3 if i could.

39. Azerbaijan - Efendi - Mata Hari - Honestly, I kinda want to like this song. The instrumentation is nice, especially with the Azeri instruments. Efendi's vocals are ok during the verses. However, her vocals during the MA-MA-MA-MATA HARI part makes this song utterly unlistenable for me. It is just so distracting and ear-grating. Not great for my sensitive ears. And that is without taking anything else into account.

38. Estonia - Uku Suviste - The Lucky One - For some reason reminds me of a boring modern country song. Bland af. At least the melody of the chorus is nice.

37. Cyprus - Elena Tsagrinou - El Diablo - Discount Lady Gaga at the best points of this song. Feels like three songs at once. Also, the lyrics seem like they just went all "What Spanish-sounding words sound spicy? Taco? Tamale? Mamacita?" As a Spanish speaker and as someone of Mexican descent who enjoys those foods, this annoys the living shit out of me. At least I can make El Diablo/Fallen Angel memes out of this. (Honestly, I don't mind the gratuitous Spanish with the words El Diablo.) Also, this song got real old real quick.

36. Slovenia - Ana Soklič - Amen - The gospel vibe is nice, but there is just too much Christianity in it for me to enjoy this song. Sorry, Ana.

35. Moldova - Natalia Gordienko - Sugar - Sounds like a sugary version of Siren Song by MARUV. Kinda boring, but enjoyable in the right circumstances.

34. Georgia - Tornike Kipiani - You - Good to listen to when mind feels blank. At first I kinda liked this song, but nowadays this song has lost its charm. This won't sound out of place alongside boring 70s slow classic rock songs.

33. Austria - Vincent Bueno - Amen - Not something I would listen to regularly, but still nice. For me, easily the biggest downgrade from 2020.

32. Greece - Stefania - Last Dance - Pleasant to listen to, not much else.

31. Portugal - The Black Mamba - Love Is On My Side - Good song, but not my cup of tea. Unfortunately, some great songs have to be near the bottom of my ranking.

30. Germany - Jendrik - I Don't Feel Hate - A fun song to listen to. The novelty wears off after a while. The feel good vibes and ukulele are nice.

29. Israel - Eden Alene - Set Me Free - the song release version was bland and boring, but the revamp. Now THAT is good stuff. The song doesn't seem so empty anymore. I miss the key change from the original, though.

28. Spain - Blas Cantó - Voy A Quedarme - A very emotional and beautiful song from Spain. Again, not usually my cup of tea. However, the melody somehow gives me a nostalgic vibe.

27. North Macedonia - Vasil - Here I Stand - DAMN Vasil has a lovely voice. Nice that he's showing it off here. Too slow of a song for me to enjoy regularly, though.

26. Albania - Anxhela Peristeri - Karma - I don't have much to say other than this song is nice.

25. Bulgaria - VICTORIA - Growing Up Is Getting Old - Pleasant to listen to, but depending on my mood I think this is a beautiful song but not my cup of tea or a complete snoozefest.

24. Serbia - Hurricane - Loco Loco - Fun song, but it feels like something is lacking, and I can't quite put my finger on it.

23. San Marino - Senhit - Adrenalina - Once the initial hype from Flo Rida being on the song died down, this became another typical Eurovision bop.

22. Sweden - Tusse - Voices - At first I thought the song was completely unremarkable and couldn't understand how this won Melodifestivalen. Nowadays it's a nice song to chill to. I gotta respect a perfect televote score from the national final.

21. Ireland - Lesley Roy - MAPS - nice.

20. Croatia - Albina - Tick Tock - Grew on me slightly. Shoutout for including a verse in Croatian.

19. Switzerland - Gjon's Tears - Tout l'Univers - Another grower for me. Doesn't hit as hard as his song from last year, but I dig it.

18. France - Barbara Pravi - Voilà - Lovely chanson right here. I wish it didn't take forever to pick up, though. I was about to completely give up on this song in the middle of my first listen. I'm glad I didn't.

17. Belgium - Hooverphonic - The Wrong Place - Classy. Not much else to say.

16. Ukraine - Go-A - Shum - I'd definitely go rave to this song. I kept finding this song hard to rank due to the white voice. I couldn't decide if I absolutely adored it or if I found it grating. Maybe I just wasn't feeling well when I first thought about it.

15. Lithuania - The Roop - Discoteque - Lots of fun, doesn't have the charm that On Fire had last year. I would dance to this song.

14. Poland - RAFAŁ - The Ride - I actually kinda like this song???? Even with Rafal's vocals??? I know he has political controversies, but I can't help but think this song is nice. A better, less controversial singer would benefit this song, though. I'm not counting the revamp just yet since it was released too recently.

13. Latvia - Samanta Tīna - The Moon Is Rising - This song gives me nostalgic mid to late 2000s hip hop vibes. The guitars in this song are lovely.

12. Romania - ROXEN - Amnesia - Definitely something that can put me in a trance if I'm in the right mood.

11. Czechia - Benny Cristo - omaga - Nice, catchy, I would dance to this.

10. Malta - Destiny - Je Me Casse - Damn, Destiny has a lovely voice! And the song itself is wonderful. I'm not a fan of the amount of Swedish talent being used instead of Maltese talent, but I really do enjoy listening to this.

9. Denmark - Fyr og Flamme - Øve Os På Hinanden - another really fun song! This really grew on me. Nowadays if I want to listen to a Eurovision song, this is one of the first songs I think of.

8. The Netherlands - Jeangu Macrooy - Birth of a New Age - I can vibe with this. You can hear the passion in this song. I wish I could let my body do the talking right now, but y'all can't see that with just a tumblr text post.

7. Russia - Manizha - Russian Woman - I was NOT expecting this to come out of Russia when it won the national final. I wasn't expecting to like this either. The message is great, the instrumental is great, everything about this is brilliant.

6. United Kingdom - James Newman - Embers - A funky song. I LOVE James's voice. Massive upgrade from last year in my opinion. I'm a sucker for brass in an upbeat song. Unfortunately, I have had the staging kinda spoiled and I am VERY skeptical about this coming out of bottom five. I'm done with the BBC.

5. Australia - Montaigne - Technicolour - There is a Lot happening in this song and I am all in for it. I'm kinda terrible at parsing lyrics, but it's a non-issue when I can follow Montaigne's voice and forget about the lyrics. Ironically enough, it's Montaigne's voice that also worries me this Eurovision season - mostly whether she was able to pull off her live on tape performance off.

4. Iceland - Daði og Gagnamagnið - 10 Years - I didn't think Daði could pull it off against this year, but he did it. I like this just a little more than Think About Things, which was my favorite song last year. I'm still a little gutted that this pandemic robbed him of a probable victory, but I've made peace with it. I still need to learn the dance moves, though.

3. Italy - Måneskin - Zitti E Buoni - FUCK YEAH A KICKASS ROCK SONG IN EUROVISION! This song gave me massive rock en español vibes on my fist listen, and honestly this is something I would bang my head to if I had the same body I did when I was 15.

2. Norway - TIX - Fallen Angel - I was not expecting to like this song much, let alone becoming THIS obsessed with TIX. In fact, he wasn't even on my radar for winning MGP. I listened to Ut Av Mørket for the first time and thought something like 'this is boring af, but at least it's in Norwegian'. And then he changed it to English, which I wasn't a fan of at first. And then one day the lyrics clicked - especially with my own struggles with mental illness. To this day this is one of only two Eurovision songs to actually make me cry. Even now he still isn't my MGP winner (that honor goes to JORN), but he has definitely won my heart.

1. Finland - Blind Channel - Dark Side - To say that this song kicks ass would be an understatement for me. This song has just the right mix of rock, pop, and even metal. Ever since I found out that this song would be in the national final, I knew that it would be my favorite this whole Eurovision season regardless of who won UMK. Yes, my jaw dropped when I saw the lead Blind Channel had in UMK. I literally cancelled my plans to watch the MGP final live because of these guys. I am not disappointed. Even Måneskin couldn't bring these guys down in my ranking. And while the lyrics might be a bit iffy, they did get me through rough times. I hope these guys are able to bring rock music back like they want to. But for now, I will give them my (useless tbh) douze points.

[crowdvscritic]

round up // MARCH + APRIL 21

March and April were a whirlwind of vaccines and awards shows! A full year after we starting staying at home, the end of this weird chapter in recent history seems like it might finally be coming to a close, and this pop culture awards season—typically a time full of fun and glamour—captured our moment weirdly well. (Emphasis on the weird.) This month’s recommendations is filled with more Critic Picks than usual, so without further delay, let’s dive right in...

March + April Crowd-Pleasers

Double Feature — 2018 Action Thrillers: Bad Times at the El Royale + Den of Thieves

In Bad Times at the El Royale (Crowd: 9/10, // Critic: 8/10), Jeff Bridges, Cynthia Erivo, Jon Hamm, Chris Hemsworth, and Dakota Johnson are staying at a motel on the California-Nevada state line full of money, murder, and mystery. In Den of Thieves (Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 6.5/10), Gerard Butler takes on some of the best bank robbers in the world. Whether you like your action with a dose of mystery or the thrills of plot twists, these will fit the bill.

Double Feature — ‘80s Comedies: Caddyshack (1980) + Splash (1984)

In the mood for pure silliness? Take your pick between a mermaid and a gopher! Five years before The Little Mermaid, Tom Hanks fell for Daryl Hannah’s blonde hair and scaly tail, and John Candy was his goofy brother in Splash (Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 7/10). And four years before Ghostbusters, Bill Murray was the goof on a golf course full of funny people like Chevy Chase, Rodney Dangerfield, and Ted Knight in Caddyshack (Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 6.5/10).

Double Feature — 1980s Coming-of-Age Films Starring Corey Feldman, Kiefer Sutherland, and Challenging Brother Relationships That Influenced Stranger Things: Stand by Me (1986) + The Lost Boys (1987)

Believe it or not, I had no idea these two ‘80s classics had so much in common when I chose to watch them back-to-back. In Rob Reiner’s adaptation of Stephen King’s Stand by Me (Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 9/10), four kids (Feldman, Jerry O’Connell, River Phoenix, and Wil Wheaton) are following train tracks to find a missing body. In The Lost Boys (Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 7/10), Corey Haim and Jason Patric move to a small California town and discover it’s full of ‘80s movie star cameos and…vampires? One is a thoughtful coming-of-age story and one is just bonkers, but both are a great time.

Spaceman by Nick Jonas (2021)

My love for the Jonas Brothers is well-documented, so instead of going down the rabbit hole I started digging at 15, I’ll talk about how Nick Jonas’s latest solo album will likely appeal to a wider audience than just the fans of the brothers’ bombastic pop records. It’s full of catchy tunes you’ll play on repeat and an R&B-influenced album experience about the loneliness we’ve experienced in the last year and how we try to make long-term relationships work.

Ted Lasso (2020- )

I love stories about nice people crushing cruelty and cynicism with relentless kindness, and Ted Lasso (Jason Sudeikis) is the warmest, most dedicated leader this side of Leslie Knope. Be sure to catch up on these witty and sweet 10 episodes before season 2 drops later this summer.

Double Feature — Tony Scott Action Flicks: Enemy of the State (1998) + The Taking of Pelham 123 (2009)

Tony Scott’s movies have got explosions and excitement in spades. I love a good man-on-the-run movie, and in Enemy of the State (Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 8/10), Will Smith is running through the streets of D.C. after getting evidence of a politician’s (Jon Voight) part in a murder. I also love a tense story set in a confined space, which is what Denzel Washington is dealing with in The Taking of Pelham 123 (Crowd: 9.5/10 // Critic: 7/10) after a hammy John Travolta takes a New York subway train hostage.

Double Feature — Baseball Movies: The Natural (1984) + Trouble With the Curve (2012)

Sue me—I love baseball movies. Robert Redford plays a fictional all-time great in the early days of the MLB in The Natural (Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 9/10), and Clint Eastwood plays a fictional all-time great scout in his late career in Trouble With the Curve (Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 7.5/10). If you love baseball or actors like Amy Adams, Glenn Close, Robert Duvall, and Justin Timberlake, these movies are just right here waiting for you.

Nate Bargatze: The Greatest Average American (2021)

Sue me—I enjoy Netflix standup comedy specials that are safe enough to watch with your whole family. That’s exactly the crowd I laughed with over Easter weekend, and while the trailer captures Bargatze’s relaxed vibe, it doesn’t capture how funny he really is.

The Mighty Ducks (1992)

I thought somewhere in my childhood I’d seen at least one of The Mighty Ducks movies, but after watching all three, I think my memories must’ve come from previews on the VHS tapes for other Disney movies I watched over and over again. The original still holds up as an grown-ups, which is why even my parents got sucked in to this family movie while just passing through the living room. Bonus for ‘80s movies lovers: Emilio Estevez is basically continuing Andrew Clark’s story from The Breakfast Club as an adult. Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 6.5/10

Double Feature — New, Dumb Action on Streaming: Godzilla vs. Kong + Thunder Force (2021)

If you want something intelligent, go ahead and skip to the next recommendation, but if you’re looking for something stupid fun, these are ready for you on HBO Max and Netflix. Thunder Force (Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 6/10) follows Melissa McCarthy and Octavia Spencer as they train to become superheroes who take on superhuman sociopaths wreaking havoc on Chicago, and alongside Jason Bateman, they do it with a lot of laughs. Godzilla vs. Kong (Crowd: 9.5/10 // Critic: 5/10) is, um, exactly what it sounds like, so I’ll skip a plot summary and just say it’s exactly what you want from this kind of movie. #TeamKong

3:10 to Yuma (2007)

All you need to know is Russell Crowe is an outlaw, and Christian Bale is the guy who’s got to get him on the train to prison. I also watched the 1957 version, which is also a solid watch if you love classic Westerns. Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 8/10

Falcon and the Winter Soldier (2021)

Marvel’s newest series isn’t nearly as inventive as WandaVision, and it may not land every beat, but it’s worth a watch for the fun new gadgets, Sebastian Stan’s dry joke delivery, and its exploration into themes of what makes a hero and what governments owe their citizens. It’s a pretty satisfying entry in the MCU canon, but I’d also recommend re-watching Captain America: Winter Soldier and Civil War—the canon is getting expansive, and it’s getting trickier every year to keep up with all the backstory.

March + April Critic Picks

Best of 2020 Picks

As per usual, the months leading up to the Oscars becomes a binge period for potential Oscar nominees. In March and April, I watched many of the films that made my Top 20 of 2020, including Boys State, The Father, Judas and the Black Messiah, Let Them All Talk, Minari, Nomadland, On the Rocks, One Night in Miami…, Promising Young Woman, Soul, and Sound of Metal. You can read how I ranked them on my list for ZekeFilm, plus reviews of The Father, Minari, Promising Young Woman, and Soul.

Bonus: If you loved On the Rocks, don’t miss this feature and beautiful photography starring Sofia Coppola, Kirsten Dunst, Elle Fanning, and Rashida Jones for W Magazine. 

Stranger Than Fiction (2006)

What would you do if you started hearing a voice who narrated your every thought and move? If you’re Will Ferrell, you’ll seek out a literary professor (Dustin Hoffman), fall in love (with Maggie Gyllenhaal), and track down the voice (Emma Thompson) who’s making ominous predictions about your future. Stranger Than Fiction is funny thought-provoking, and an unusual but welcome role for Ferrell. Crowd: 9.5/10 // Critic: 9/10

All the Royal Family News

Speaking of stranger than fiction, it’s been a busy few months for the Royal Family. We’ve celebrated 95th birthday of Queen Elizabeth, the 3rd birthday of Prince Louis, and the 10th anniversary of Will and Kate’s marriage. We also lost Prince Philip, and we watched the drama of Harry and Meaghan’s interview with Oprah. No matter what happens to their Crown, I don’t think we’ll ever get over our fascination with the Windsor family. A few pieces worth reading from the last few months:

“In Meghan and Harry’s Interview, Two TV Worlds Collided,” Vulture.com

“The Queen’s Man: Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, Dies,” TIME.com

“Obituary: HRH The Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh,” BBC.com

Goodfellas (1990)

One of my film opinions that makes me feel like a phony is that Martin Scorsese just isn’t my cup of tea. He’s brilliant, but his films tend to be long and dark, two qualities that are never my first choice…and somehow Goodfellas still worked for me? Maybe it was the TV edit graciously toning down the violence or maybe it was that Ray Liotta and Joe Pesci were firing on all cylinders, but for some reason this ‘90s classic didn’t suck the joy out of my evening like Scorsese often does. (Bonus: For a Martin Scorsese/Robert De Niro I don’t really recommend, head to the last section of this Round Up.)

Fearless (Taylor’s Version) (2021)

Her voice has only matured, so Taylor Swift revisiting her old albums is like upgrading a blast to the past. Plus, the six new tracks make me feel like 15 crushing on that boy in Spanish class again, and her Grammys performance (just before her third Album of the Year win) was magical and folklore-tastic.

Double Feature — ‘60s Action Classics: The Guns of Navarone (1961) + Planet of the Apes (1968)

The Guns of Navarone (Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 8.5/10) follows Gregory Peck and David Niven as they destroy Nazi weapons in the Mediterranean. Planet of the Apes (Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 8.5/10) follows Charlton Heston as he attempts to escape from, well, a planet full of apes. The pacing of ‘60s films doesn’t always hold up, but that’s not the case with this pair. Both are still full of suspense, and you can’t go wrong hanging with casts like these.

Let Him Go (2020)

Kevin Costner and Diane Lane play a farming couple who unexpectedly help raise a boy who lost his biological father—sound familiar? But instead of a superhero origin story, they’re part of a thrilling Western with performances nuanced (Costner and Lane) and showy (Lesley Manville). If I’d watched this before completing my Best of 2020 piece, it likely would’ve been on my list. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 8.5/10

The Oscars

I’m a ride-or-die fan of the Academy Awards, but I’ll admit even I found this year’s ceremony odd. Instead of focusing on what wasn’t so hot, I’ll recommend a few moments you don’t want to miss:

Emerald Fennell giving a shout-out to Saved by the Bell

Daniel Kaluuya acknowledging his parents’ sex life during his acceptance speech (??)

Yuh-Jung Yoon flirting with Brad Pitt and acknowledging she’s just “luckier” than her fellow nominees

Glenn Close dancing to…”Da Butt”?

You can also read about the historic wins and nominations from this year’s Oscar class and why the Golden Globes were an even stranger production weeks earlier.

Trailer-palooza!

Movies are on their way back, y’all! I’m counting down the days until I can get back to a theatre, and even if some of these movies are duds, I’m planning to see all of them on a big screen if possible:

Those Who Wish Me Dead (May 14)

Cruella (May 28)

In the Heights (June 11)

Space Jam 2 (July 16)

Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings (September 3)

West Side Story (December 10)

Also in March + April…

To add to the Oscars love, you can listen to a conversation about what we learn about family, community, and society in some of the year’s biggest nominees on the Uncommon Voices podcast. I join regular hosts Michael and Kenneth in this episode, and I recommend all of their thoughtful discussions on their “What’s Streaming” episodes.

I’ve previously recommended the Do You Like Apples weekly newsletter, so I’m proud to share I contributed twice in March! I wrote about Love and Basketball, directed by Gina Prince-Bythewood, and one of my all-time favorite Julia Roberts rom-coms, Notting Hill. (I also tied to win their Oscars pool, but I suppose that’s less exciting for you than me.)

It was a busy couple of months on SO IT’S A SHOW! New logo, new email list, new Instagram, and a host of new episodes about a flop of a Madonna flick, a Swedish children’s TV show, an urban legend turned into a horror movie, one of the best films about journalism ever, and a Martin Scorsese movie about a real boxer.

Most of what I wrote for ZekeFilm in March and April was mentioned in Best of 2020 recommendations…except for The Nest, a film that couldn’t figure out what genre it wanted to be.

Photo credits: Nick Jonas, Royal Family. All others IMDb.com.

[heyjeno]

💌 mutuals ask game: tag your mutuals and assign a new url you think would suit them and then send this ask to ten (10) of your favorite blogs/mutuals. 💌

hi!! thank you for sending this in, i got this on my main too but i’ll answer it all here if that’s okay <3 also i just wanna say i’m probably gonna suck at this but i will try my best fkdsgfj AND I’M SORRY IF I LEFT ANYONE OUT :(

@dnghycks - i would say, something like fullsun, sunrise, something sun/sky related bc girlie chose biases that reflects herself teresa is the literal embodiment of sunrays that warm and light up a room ☀️ or something dumb like roundbois bc all her biases HAVE SUCH ROUND FEATURES 👁👄👁 

@uyeau - i think something pretty like etoile? a beautiful word for a beautiful person 💓 mal is too good for this world and possibly the most precious human being out there. perhaps she was sent here as a blessing to the world and i just feel like she's comforting like stars that accompany you when you look out into the night sky <3

@satenlee - maybe chittaphon bc i can imagine her yelling that when ten does A Thing or henderysmile bc although cat may have you guys fooled that ten is her bias, boy do i have news 👀 but you didnt hear this from me (update; just checked her mobile theme and i think it shows fhshdjdj)

@yyuwins - when i talk to grace she's always bursting with so much love, enthusiasm and energy that it's contagious. she makes the conversation so bright and happy and i think a url like gracefully or radiantlight suits her personality and to remind her that she's an amazing person 💝

@nakamoto - gemini buddy!! ♊ the first word i think of when i think of beverly is divine so that's one, and im thinking something yuta related like yiercings or a canon url from her current favourite book (tmi but her vibes remind me of reading under warm blankets with a cup of warm tea on a rainy day)

@dojaeism - tell me why the first thought i had was catboyjaehyun 👀 i just feel like xîi would suit a lowkey chaotic url that's beyond me and my lack of creativity like dojaecat (*in marks voice when he went fav dojuhcat song in that one live*) but i will settle with dojaes bc it's her brand (and we love to see it!)

@dongsichengs - i just feel ngoc's thoughts revolve around doyoung and doyoung only so definitely simpfordoyoung 🤡 ok but fr a simple canon dy url like doyoungs bc who else should be using it if not for the best dy stan on tumblr dot com also i think ngocchi would make a really cute url!!

@johnnysuhs - legendari!!! ik that's my tag for ari but it's just the truth she is a legend and it must be made known. we love and appreciate a queen <3 maybe johpping bc when we popping and johnny we johpping 🕺 my brain just automatically associates her with johnny

@waiyv - for nia maybe something wayv related, her current url is canon but imagine the power of nia with the wayv url! or maybe liyongqin! nia's vibes remind me of spending a peaceful time at a nice cafe so another url i'd give her would be something like cafelatte

@tyong - ok i know mari already has such amazing urls so ill go with something that reminds me of her, maybe moonstone or ruby bc she exudes a powerful aura (also ty's ruby 🥺) or something with a pun like foreveryong (like the blackpink song... ok fjskdjk what was that sorry mari)

@nctdream - clare is SOOO funny i’m gonna say thedailyclare or nctdaily or something because god do i look forward to going on her blog and reading the tags like it’s my daily morning routine also clare and her content give me the same vibe as content we see on nctdaily; hilarious and wholesome babey

@tytrack - i love maryam's url bc songwriter ty!!! but also not at how we have been robbed of the tolo but if i really had to assign her one maybe tybubu bc her number one agenda is to protect taeyong! also like falsettaeil (???? i tried) bc she appreciates his unbelievable vocals <3

[bibliocratic]

soft domestic jonmartin

-

“Jon!” Martin is shouting with his head shoved in the under-stairs closet. Tone deadened to a loud mumble, and he's knocked something heavy over that sounds like the ironing board or the drying rack in his attempt to grab things that he always inconveniently shoves away right at the back.  “You got your raincoat?”

“I won't need it,” comes the low response from the kitchen.

“The weather said it might rain.”

“It'll be fine,” Jon replies, only half listening really, with a willfully misplaced confidence in the weather.

(And it will rain when they get off the train, a spatter of showers that they get caught in, and the coat will be in the suitcase, inaccessible. Martin won't say anything as Jon huddles against him as they share the single umbrella, but the smugness will be in the tone of his voice as he comments on the laden clouds – looks like it might be a proper downpour, Jon, shame the weather man didn't predict anything like this – and Jon will run his hands through his thinning hair already dripping into his face and weather this with the appropriate amount of mild chagrin, knowing Martin will take pity and relent momentarily, fuss over the damp and the cold and Jon's endless ability to catch whatever bug is going round, and bundle him into a cafe to dry off.)

“I'll pack it anyway,” Martin calls back, kicking something else with his foot that sounds like the hoover. “In case.”

Jon sighs, but it is a long-worn gentle sound that did not expect to win this ground. He resumes his task, folding and rolling a weeks worth of their combined shirts, sweaters and trousers neatly and efficiently into their modest suitcase. He is very good at this, packing. Always has been good at finding room for things when he thought nothing else would fit.  It brings him a self-satisfied pride, knowing each thing has its place, that there will be space for more.

(Martin will insist on buying a fridge magnet from the first tacky shop they see on the seafront, a few postcards to send to Basira, Daisy, Georgie and Melanie. Jon will find a way to sneak off as he always does and buy another souvenir spoon to add to his expansive collection, one for every place he's been with Martin, this one with a blue and silver crest adorning the top, and he'll play innocent when Martin comes across it cleaning a month later – I thought I told you I got another one /  Jon, we don't have the room, you're going to have to start putting them in boxes up the loft / I will, fine, I will, tomorrow. )

Tucked subtly at the bottom of the case where Martin won't think to look, Jon's placed two smart dress shirts and matching ties. The dress shirt is the mint coloured one with the little embroidered flourishes on the collar tips, Martin's favourite, the one he always wears when he wants to impress; it's worn at the under-arms a little, the button right at the bottom lost somewhere and Jon knows Martin will look dashing in it. He'll need help with the tie because he always does but that's where Jon comes in. Martin doesn't know Jon's booked a table at a nice restaurant tomorrow, theatre tickets for the early evening, and Jon's giddy in his own way to reveal it like a bouquet of flowers from a magician's sleeve.

(Jon will touch the ring on Martin's right ring finger – with the tenderness of the joints in his hands, the way they sometimes swell in the cold, it's too small to be worn on the traditional place; but then again when has tradition ever really mattered – and Martin will call him soft, and Jon will know Martin is looking at him like that and Jon will not disagree).

“Socks?” he shouts out, wondering if Martin's left the closet yet or if he's found another umpteen things he's thought that they should bring. He has already argued Martin out of bringing an extra book (You won't have time to read it, it'll just take up room), walking boots (It's Dorset, Martin, not the Peak District), and his Polaroid camera (You're already bringing the digital one, and we've only got a few shots left, we should save them for Georgie's birthday party).

“I put them with the boxers. Next to the toaster.”

Jon huffs and moves away from the suitcase spread-eagle on the kitchen table to grab the messy, teetering pile of boxers and socks on the counter-top. He hums off-key and mindless as he brings them back to his workspace, refolding them to stuff them down the sides of the suitcase, smoothing over rucks and bumps, double checking on the ties stuffed into the spare pair of shoes Martin had won the argument for.

A flump in front of him and Martin is dropping things onto his carefully organised packing. Jon frowns, and touches at the wool. They're going to Bournemouth, he thinks with another internal eye-roll, not the Outer Hebrides.

“Really, we won't need all this.”

“Just in case.”

This is Martin's mantra. He's an 'everything-goes' sort of packer. There is a reason Jon is the one responsible for wielding an iron-fisted utilitarian hand over this aspect of the holiday.

Jon runs a hand over the fabric, bobbling in places, darned at the fraying edges of the sleeves. Well-loved and well-washed.

“Another jumper?” he says, ready to dismiss it with another lecture on saving space.

“It's to wear now. It'll be cool all morning, I checked. You'll be cold on the train.”

Jon concedes this battle as to his circulation like he does every time, and does as he's bid, shoving it over his head without complaint. Martin fixes his collar so it sticks out over the neckline, smooths down any hair that's been disrupted, making some comment about that barber down the road doing a nice job with the cut this time, before declaring with a cheeky smirk that 'he'll do'. Jon makes an affected moue, and cups his face, kisses his cheek, making a comment that he'll just have to try harder. These things are routine now. Beloved in their repetition.

“Have you got the tickets?” Martin asks. It's the third time he's checked, but Jon replies with steady patience.

“In the backpack, at the front.”

“Pills? There should be enough. I went to Boots to fill up your prescription this morning.”

“Same place. What about you? You have enough?”

“I've got enough for another week before I have to go back.”

“You taken yours for the journey?”

“I'll see how I go.”

“Martin,” Jon says. Not admonishing but with an echo of his old battle-axe charm he used to possess in his earlier days.  “Come on.” He knows Martin won't have taken any, doesn't like to feel too dependent on them. But travelling is stressful at the best of times, never mind in London, what with the traffic and the noise and the people and the jostling, and the crowds can unsettle him.

Jon's pulling them out of his trouser pocket, a little packet still mostly full, and passing them over.

“They make my mouth dry,” Martin complains, but he goes and fills a glass of water from the tap and dutifully swallows one he pops out of the crackling foil.

“We can buy something nice to drink before we get onboard,” Jon promises, tucking the pills into the front pocket of the backpack next to Jon's.

“You spoil me,” Martin says dryly and Jon feels his face crinkle in a smile. He zips the suitcase shut and gives a little voila.

“Taxi should be here in ten,” he says. “Oh, remind me that we're going to need some more tea bags for when we get back.”

“Jon?”

“Hmm?”

“We're going to need more tea bags for when we get back.”

“Oh hahaha.”

Jon had made a checklist on his phone, mostly to appease Martin, and he hears him running down what's been noted as essential, muttering to himself to clarify – so we've got all the t-shirts, sandals for the beach, you've got the tickets and if not there's the email confirmation, checked the train line websites, all networks running as usual and on time.....

Jon puts his arms around Martin's back as he reads, letting his head rest against him. Martin's used his nice body wash this morning, sandalwood and citrus, the stuff he uses when he thinks the day's going to be a particularly good one. He's put on a little too much aftershave as usual.

“You should have a nap on the train,” he says, interrupting Martin's review. “Heard you moving around all night.”

“Just my leg giving me grief. I got a heat pack, it helped some. I'll be ok,” Martin hums in reply. Jon doesn't respond, but he is quietly confident in the knowledge that once they've found their seats, Martin will drop off like a cliff-edge, and Jon will get to listen to his audiobooks until he has to nudge him awake to say they're nearly there.

(Martin will fall asleep on him, head a solid weight on Jon's shoulder and not even out of London yet, and Jon will thread their hands together before he starts up his current Le Carre book, one headphone dangling out so he can both listen for the stops and to hear the staff with the drinks trolley in advance. Martin will wake up with a jolt and a snuffle and a 'wethereyetJon?' and Jon will say 'Only just passed Southampton' and press a mediocre, still cooling cup of tea into his hand.)

There's a chirp and a brush by Jon's trouser leg.

“Hello you,” he says to the Duchess.

You fed her?” he asks Martin.

There's a hopeful cry that implies that eons have passed since she was last given sustenance.

“She's been fed and she knows it.” Martin replies, sounding as though he is immune to the charms of their cat (he is not), and that he won't be tempted into giving her a few more treats before they leave (he will).

“I've given Tom house keys,” Martin says finally, checking that last one off the list. “He'll pop in tonight to feed her and change the litter tray, make sure no one robs us or anything.”

“All your books,” Jon replies without intonation. “How could they resist?”

Martin makes some snarky comment about how he hopes any hypothetical thief might help Jon slim down his spoon collection, and Jon snorts and gives his back a little headbutt to show he doesn't approve.

“We'll have to get him something to say thanks,” Martin continues, returning to their previous topic. “A stick of rock or something.”

“Hmm,” Jon says and doesn't move away from the heat of Martin's back, his arms still bracketing around Martin's stomach.  He slept badly last night as well. Disturbed by Martin's restlessness and his own unforgiving dreams. Martin stands like a foundation stone before he turns around, the phone set next to the suitcase and fixes the situation to his liking, embracing Jon in a loose hug.

“You tired, love?”

“Hmm.”

“We can have a nap then, when we get to the hotel.”

“We aren't that old,” Jon grumbles, although his heart isn't really in it because honestly, a nap sounds great right about now.

Martin's hair, growing out on the long side now, scratches soft against Jon's face. It is still a vibrant carrot-top in Jon's head. He'll run his hands through springy curls still thick and knotted, or bestow sleep-slow kisses on it, and the recollection of that particular shade has never left him. Martin's hair hasn't been entirely ginger since the Watcher's Crown failed, to believe Martin, or Basira, who has always been entirely honest about the shipwrecks their life in the service of eldritch fear entities made of their youth, but Jon doesn't care. That's the memory he has, no matter how many laugh lines begin to grace and soften Martin's face, how often Martin wonders idly if he should dye his hair, get rid of the white. (He never will). Jon hasn't been able to see the mess of his own hair in a mirror for a long time now, but he doesn't need to know it's lost the war of attrition against the grey.

Two men who both look old before their time. Jon didn't even think they'd get this lucky.

There's a ping from Martin's phone.

“That'll be the taxi,” he says and grabs the suitcase, hefting it down off the table. “You got the tickets?”

“Yes, Martin,” Jon says, a little exasperated, but mostly fond, ever ever so fond. (He will say it like this for the rest of his life).

Jon grabs his stick, folded up and pockets it. Bends down, scratches the cat behind the ears, double-taps his own pockets to check on the theatre tickets.

“Let's go on holiday,” Jon says.

[babbushka]

Hey pretty lady! The PNW is gracing us with sunshine and 90° weather today so can I get skinny dipping in the new pool behind the trailer with my fave boi Clyde?

You sure can my dear friend!!

Everyone thought the Logan brothers were simple minded, but they didn’t mind that one bit. Sometimes it was easier to let people think something like that, it let them get away with a lot more than folks would ever give ‘em credit for. Like robbing the speedway, for one thing. 

Or investing all that money, for another.

Jimmy and Clyde had figured that they wouldn’t get too much from the robbery, once all was said ‘n done, and the money had been split all the different ways it needed to be split, so they had formed a plan to invest a good chunk of their own shares.

To make a long story short, their investments paid off.

You and Clyde Logan had decided to splurge for a nicer house, not quite the mansion Bobby Jo and Moony lived in over across the state line, but nice. It had a lot of property, and you and Clyde decided it might be fun to put in a pool.

Your eyes had lit up at the thought of swimmin’ in the hot West Virginian summers, and once Clyde saw that look in your eye, well shit. How the hell could he say no to that?

“Hey darlin’?” Clyde called from the front yard, covered in grass clippin’s and sweat from where he was mowin’ the front lawn.

“Yes honey?” You called back, putting the finishing ice-cubes in a big pitcher of sweet tea, smiling when your man came into the kitchen.

“I was thinkin’,” Clyde started in that careful way of his, “Hot day like today might be perfect for swimmin’.”

He smiled at you, and you always swooned a little when he smiled. You were swooning now.

“I like the way you think, Clyde.” You replied with a happy nod. It had been just about one hundred degrees outside all day, you didn’t know what the hell possessed Clyde to go out and mow the lawn in the middle of the afternoon, but you had long given up asking why Clyde did what he did. Instead you asked, “Want a glass?”

You gestured to the pitcher of freshly chilled tea, and he nodded, hovering in the doorway so as not to track in wet grass all over the place.

“Yes please,” He nodded with those kind brown eyes of his, “Why don’t you go on ahead? Bring the tea outside, I want to just rinse off all this shit so it don’t go in the pool and clog the filter.”

“Alrighty, don’t take too long now.” You chuckled as you leaned over to kiss him, your man always considerate.

You kissed him once more just ‘cause you loved him with your whole heart, and turned to walk towards the backyard, jumping just a little bit when Clyde playfully smacked your ass on your way past him.

You shot a grin over your shoulder, and thought what the hell, why not have a little fun?

You decided to forgo a bathing suit, content to just strip down to your birthday suit and step into the water. It was deliciously cool against your skin, a great reprieve from the heat. You had set the glasses of iced tea right on the edge of the pool so you or your man could grab ‘em easily, and you had turned on the little battery operated radio for some tunes to cut through the silence.

That was the nice thing about the new house, no neighbors for a long while.

You faced away from the house, setting your eyes on the soft fields just across the way, all the way down to the edge of your property. You were thinkin’ about plantin’ a garden there, one that could make lots of fruits and veggies and herbs year-round.

You were so wrapped up in the thought of your garden that you weren’t paying attention to the sliding door opening and closing, to the gentle splash of someone entering the pool.

It wasn’t until Clyde’s left arm slid around your middle that you snapped back to reality, with a wide smile on your face at that.

“You’re so damn pretty, ain’t ya?” His deep voice pressed into your shoulder as he planted a kiss there, kissed up your neck while he was at it.

“Hey there mountain man.” You turned in his embrace, grinned up at him as you squinted through the sun to see he was just as naked as you were. “Glad you got the memo.”

You laughed and playfully let your fingers walk down his stomach, stopping just shy of his happy trail. He snatched up your hand and bit the wrist playfully, kissin’ it before letting it plop back into the water.

“I couldn’t find my trunks, hoped ya wouldn’t mind.” He blushed, lookin’ sweet as could be.

“How could I?” You replied, sliding your arms around his neck and leaning up to kiss him.

Before your lips could make contact though, Clyde surprised you.

You know, sometimes, you forgot that he had been in Special Forces.

Until, that is, he pulls some sorta stunt – like picking you up and throwin’ you across the damn pool.

“Clyde Logan!” You sputtered with a great big laugh and hair in your face, popping up from under the water.

Clyde laughed openly, a rare sight, all his handsomely crooked teeth on display and his nose all scrunched up.

“Sorry darlin’! You just looked too cute, had to mess ya up just a little.” He teased as you tried righting yourself.

“Clyde this is salt water!” You complained, no real heat in your voice, sudden rush of adrenaline from flying in the air and landing in the water making you laugh all dizzy.

“Here lemme kiss it better.” He beckoned you closer.

Now, you were no fool, so when you swam on over to your man, and he reached out to cup your cheeks in those baseball mitts of his, you jumped on him and pushed him under the water, getting him as ‘messy’ as he had gotten you.

“(Y/N)!” It was his turn to act shocked, hair plastered to his head makin’ his ears stick out something fierce.

“That’s what you get!” You laughed, already swimming away from the great big bear across the pool.

“You’re in for it now.” He warned, all bark and no bite, as he swam after you.

You had rarely seen Clyde as carefree as he was while he was in the pool with you, and if some naked wrestling in the pool and a couple nose-fulls of water were all it took to bring out that side of him, you’d be more than happy to oblige.

[mypassionfortrash]

Elsie: Part One

It’s 1988, and The Cross have just released their first album. Roger Taylor, the band’s frontman (and Queen drummer), still gets a kick out of seeing his work on the shelves of record stores. Which is where he meets Elsie.

Half his age and having twice his brains, wit and recklessness, it doesn’t take long before Roger takes a bit of a shine to her. They inadvertently stumble into a life changing - or life ruining - relationship, much to the dismay of everyone around them.

But, of course, nothing goes the way he plans. Are they really doomed from the start, or can they really make it work?

Pairing: Roger Taylor x OfC Warnings: Age gaps, sugar daddy goodness, loads of angst, references to death, and lots of smut and debauchery. You have been warned! Notes: I couldn’t hold my own piss, so I’ve posted the first part of this. It’s been cooking since January, so please do let me know what you think!

Elsie’s eyes wandered towards the clock behind the cash desk. Four o’clock on the dot, and not a customer in sight. The week’s new releases sat, safely housed on the rack nearest the door. There was nothing left to do but wait until five.

She shuffled towards the door at the back of the shop floor. The shabby little backroom of the shabby record store where she passed the days she didn’t fill with lectures or drinking, or both.

She flicked on the kettle and dumped a teabag in the arse of a stained mug. Then she threw herself on the sofa. She kept meaning to pester Mr D’Onofrio about the damp on the ceiling; the smell was starting to get to the records. They didn’t shift enough of them, so they just sat in boxes mouldering. But she never saw enough of her boss. He was always too busy with his other business ventures around town.

The kettle clicked.

Elsie made a mental note to take care of it herself.

Making her tea, her thoughts turned to summer. “Two more months,” she muttered, filling her cup with water. “Two more months,” she repeated, adding her milk - just a dash. She sighed, taking a sip. Two more months.

Her politics degree was a bore. Her friends had coupled themselves up. And she was broke. 

There wasn’t much for her to do with her holidays. But she didn’t mind. She enjoyed doing nothing within the confines of Mixed Up Records. 

She flopped back down, cup of tea in hand, relishing the opportunity to do nothing. Her eyes began to droop closed.

CRASH.

The sound sent her tea flying over her lap and forced her to her feet. Images of the shop being robbed raced through her head. Her legs carried her at light speed through to the shop floor, dashing past the bargain bins, Reggae, Pop, Blues. Nothing untoward jumped out at her. 

Until she arrived between ‘Hard Rock’ and ‘Heavy Metal.’

A sea of records lay strewn across the floor as one, dreaded, customer attempted to wrangle them into haphazard piles at his feet. He was oblivious to Elsie’s presence.

She craned her neck to get a better view of the damage he was doing, clawing Metallica on top of Seger. The horror.

She had seen enough.

“Can I help you?”

The man shuddered, before scrambling to his feet. “Uh, yes,” he began, turning to her. His fingers tangled through his shaggy blonde hair. “I was wondering if you could help me find an album.”

There was no mistaking him. Even with big, dark sunglasses concealing the best part of his face. Elsie would have known him anywhere.

She tried not to gawp or to look too gormless, but it was no good. An eternity passed before the customer’s eyes widened beneath his glasses.

Eventually, she succeeded in choking out two words. “What album?”

The customer gave a coy smile as he shook his head. “I don’t think you have it. I’ve searched all over. It’s by a band called The Cross - it’s called Shove It.”

“I think it’s new,” Elsie bumbled. 

“I know it’s new, darling,” the customer chuckled.

“No, no,” she began, gesturing towards the front of the store. “It’s in the new section. It’s definitely there.”

“Right,” the customer concluded, bending back down to gather up the rest of the records at his feet.

Elsie followed suit, shooing the customer’s hands away. “I’ve got this, it’s ok.”

“Are you sure?”

“You’re making a right pig’s ear of it; go grab your album and I’ll ring it up for you.”

He shot her a mischievous smile as he clambered to his feet. “Don’t need to tell me twice.”

Elsie made swift work of tidying the records away, everything in its rightful place in separate, alphabetised boxes. Then, she perched herself on the stool behind the till, ready to eye the familiar face as he perused Mixed Up’s latest wares. Picking them up, examining them, putting them down. Until he found the one he was after. 

Elsie’s heart threatened to burst from her chest as he made his way back to her.

He knew every trick in the book. Whipping off his sunglasses. Ruffling his hair. And then he leaned on the cash desk, dangerously close, slipping his record towards her. 

She looked down at the album, trying to catch her breath.

“Is something the matter, darling?” he pressed.

She worked up enough courage to meet his gaze, feeling her cheeks burn. “I just… I can’t understand why you’re buying your own album.”

The customer smirked, glancing down at his record. “I’m a bit of an ego-maniac and I love diddling sales figures,” he said quietly. Then he threw a glance over his shoulder, back to where he made his mess. “I’m sorry about all that, as well. Hope I didn’t give you too much trouble.”

Else was much more preoccupied with bagging the customer’s album and taking his money. “Just doing my job.”

“What’s your name?”

“Elsie.”

The customer stood offered his hand for a quick handshake. “I’m Roger.”

“Roger. Nice to meet you,” Elsie beamed, handing Roger his bag. “I hope you found everything you were looking for.”

“I did. Thank you,” Roger smiled, half turned towards the door.

“Come back soon!”

“It won’t be soon enough!”

Elsie held her breath right up until Roger slipped out the door. The more she did, the more her eyes bulged and her face reddened. Until it slammed shut.

She let out a sharp exhale.

Regaining her faculties, she scurried to the phone in the backroom and punched in her best friend’s number. 

It seemed like an eternity before a voice came on the other end of the line. They hadn’t a chance to utter a hello.

“Jaclyn. You’re never going to believe this.”

[wewritethings]

Picture Perfect

Newt Scamander x Artist! Muggle! Reader

Summary: You loved art. The latest muse for many of your illustrations is a dashing, mysterious young man who is currently renting out the flat next to you. Now you just have to ignore the fact that said mysterious young man has currently broken into your living room and is struggling with what appears to be a platypus of some kind… not to mention he had definitely just seen all of the slightly creepy portraits you drew of him scattered around the place. 

Words: 1073

By: Rose

 “Oh! Uhm, Pardon me. I-I’m renting out the flat next to you and, well, I know this sounds quite cliche- could I possibly borrow a cup of sugar? I-I’ve only just moved in and I haven’t had the time to get groceries.”

      That one conversation began your obsession. Well, not obsession per say, it was more or less the beginning of you artistic inspiration and maybe a mild infatuation at best. You weren’t well acquainted with him. You only knew the basics, that his name was Newt Scamander, an odd name indeed, and that he was very busy doing “work” a majority of the time. 

       You had yet to have a conversation that lasted more than a minute with Newt. Brisk greetings in the hallway, asking one another for any groceries to spare, and short exchanges of meaningless nonsense made up most of your communication. When he first moved into the flat next to you, it turned out that aforementioned sugar was used to bake a batch of cookies which wound up on your doorstep that evening. They were burnt around the edges, but the gesture was sweet. The next day he found a dozen muffins in an array of flavors outside his door. 

     You gently slapped you cheeks and let out a groan of frustration. Damn artist’s block preventing you from drawing anything of actual substance. You took a sip of your now lukewarm tea, pausing a moment to let the inspiration come to you… you just had to focus god dammit! Then it hits you. You could draw Newt it whatever mysterious job he does. He definitely wasn’t a businessman, he was too fidgety to sit at a desk all day. A professor then maybe? He seems to be a bit shy for a professor, but the image of him lecturing a group of pupils seemed too adorable for you not to draw. And thus you picked up your pencil and begun.

     The pencil flew across the paper, slowly turning the rough shapes into features of the face you admired so much. Cascading curls falling into kind eyes, and freckles littering his face like constellations in an inky black sky- but you couldn’t get his nose right. Bridge too thick, tip too narrow, again and again you drew but it was all wrong. On your third time trying to draw the same structure, your pencil broke. “Great, lovely…” your words laced with sarcasm, tired eyes wandered from the page to a nearby clock. 11:30. You had to be up early for work tomorrow, it was no use staying up all night. You stood up and stretched as you made your way into your bedroom to get ready for bed. 

      Just as your head hits the pillow, a loud crash and the sound of a hushed voice alerted you. You quickly jumped out of bed, grabbing a book you kept nearby to use as a weapon. You crept towards the living room, clangs and crashes getting louder along with the voice. You quickly threw your book at the intruder without looking, before retreating behind corner as to not be seen.

        “OW! Bloody hell!!”

        You popped your head out from around the corner to spot Newt in the middle of your living room, rubbing his head with one had while carrying what appears to be a platypus? You flick on the lights before walking into the living room.

          “Newt?”

          “(Y-Y/N)!!! Funny to see you here?”

          “You’re in my house.”

          “W-Well, it’s for a good reason! I-I promise I wasn’t trying to r-rob you or anything- wAIT! COME BACK!!!”

           The creature slipped out of Newt’s arms and beelined towards your art desk, the two of you raced after the beast, which scurried up the table as it grabbed one of your finer pens before making an effort to dive off of the desk and scurry into your bedroom. Unlike Newt, who clumsily crashed into your desk, you managed to snatch the beast out of the air.

          “Got you!” You took a moment to revel in your victory before taking the creature in. It was unlike anything you have ever seen! Long snout, and slick oily black fur, vaguely reminiscent of some type of hybrid between a platypus and echidna. You needed a pen and paper. You turned back to your desk, intent on sketching the lil’ critter and asking Newt more about him, when you noticed him flipping through your multitude of drawings and sketches of him. 

          Your face paled and you almost dropped the fuzzy animal currently cradled in your arms as you raced to snatch the pictures from him, making an effort to hide them away in your drawers. “I’m so sorry! You weren’t supposed to see those…” you tried your best to avoid eye contact as you bussied yourself trying to tidy the desk. 

          “I-It’s quite alright! I actually find it quite f-flattering honestly. You’re very talented!”

          You tried your best to keep your jaw from hitting the floor, questioning his beliefs. “I promise,” he gestured from you to the drawings “These are incredible! You really do have a gift...” 

         Your face flushed at his words. Your artistic abilities have always been your little secret. Only those extremely close to you knew or your talents. You couldn’t help but feel your heart pick up in speed as Newt continued.

          “A-Actually, I’m writing a book and I’m going to need an illustrator. Would… would you like to work with me? I p-promise you will be paid well!”

      You smiled, practically ecstatic by the offer. You hated your current job, working in a sweatshop producing dresses all day wasn’t exactly what you called fun, on top of that the pay was absolutely horrendous and the working conditions were even worse. 

       “You actually mean it? This isn’t some kind of cruel joke or anything…” 

        Newt shook his head violently as he reassured you that this was not in fact some kind of prank. “No! Definitely not. I-It’s a bit much to explain here why don’t we go over to my apartment? I’ll f-fix us a pot of tea” Newt moved over to the door and opened it for you, trying his best to be a cool and confident gentlemen, even though the redness in his cheeks and his eyes constantly darting between you, the drawings, and the floor betrayed him. You couldn’t help the smile stretched across your face, “That sound lovely!”

[sapienveneficus]

Elsie Fest 2019: A Broadway Music Festival Sans Broadway

Another year, another Elsie Fest. This year marks the Broadway festival's fifth anniversary, and it also happens to be the fourth Elsie Fest I've been able to attend. Coming off a the high of 2018's festival, this year's event had some mighty big shoes to fill. Did it succeed? In a word? No. I had fun last night, don't get me wrong, but I couldn't help but be disappointed by several aspects of the event. Let me break it down for you.

For those who haven't been to Elsie Fest, there's a rhythm to whole thing that's important to explain right at the top. The seating at the venue is, for the most part, general admission so people line up well before the gates open to secure the best spots near the stage. I joined the line about 2 hours before opening and, therefore, managed to snag a pretty good spot. I laid out my blanket, sat down, and took part in the hour-long showtunes sing-a-long lead, once again, by our favorite dynamic duo from Marie's Crisis. This hour of fun was a highlight for me; it always is. But this year especially it proved to be one of the few celebrations of Broadway to be found at this Broadway music festival. More on that later.

As the hour came to a close, and the guys from Marie's Crisis were wrapping things up on stage, I took a look around the venue. I couldn't help but notice that it wasn't as full as it had been the year before (or the year before that). That observation got me thinking, why was attendance down this year? After a bit of brainstorming, I came up with a few potential causes.

First up, timing. Elsie Fest has always been on a Sunday. Since the show moved to Central Park back in 2017, it has specifically been the Sunday smack dab in the middle of Columbus Day Weekend. For any international readers, Columbus Day is a federal holiday (like a bank holiday) here in the US that falls on the second Monday in October. So, for the past two years, Elsie Fest was been held in the middle of a 3 day weekend. Which meant it was generally easy for folks in the tri state area to make the trip into the city. Also, falling on a Sunday evening meant it was easy to get Broadway folks (even those currently in shows) to stop by since most shows only run a matinee on Sundays and typically have Mondays off. By choosing a Saturday this year, the organizers made it harder for some regular attendees to come out (people tend to have things to do on Saturdays plus, for some, it's the Sabbath), and they cut down on their talent pool significantly because they wouldn't be able to get anyone currently working on or off Broadway.

This segues nicely into the second reason for the potential dip in ticket sales, namely the featured performers. There weren't really any big names this year. Last year, for example, we had Sutton Foster, Joshua Henry, Grant Gustin, Matthew Morrison, Alex Newell, Nick Jonas, Zachary Levi, Casey Cott, Rufus Wainwright, Jodi Benson, and performances from Be More Chill and The Prom. This year, up until about a week before, the only big-ish name attached to the show was Gavin Creel. I say a week before because last week they announced Cynthia Erivo. I'm guessing she was added last minute in a desperate attempt to sell tickets. Which sort of worked, the venue wasn't empty, but kinda proves my point. By having this on a Saturday they weren't able to bring in the talent that they had in years past and, without those big names, they weren't able to bring in as many attendees.

Finally, the third reason for the lackluster ticket sales was New York Comic Con. This doesn't require much in the way of explanation. This weekend was New York Comic Con. Lots of the big panels, sales, and cosplay events fall on Saturday, and it's not a stretch to assume that NYCC and Elsie Fest are drawing from similar, if not the same, pools of people. So that probably hurt sales a bit as well. Though I suspect the two other reasons were larger contributing factors.

Okay, back to the show itself. After the sing-a-long, we were shown a quick trailer for High School Musical: The Musical – The Series. (You are not misreading what I wrote, that's the show's actual title) After the trailer, two of the kids came out to sing Breaking Free. Their performance was super cute, and I was reminded of the fact that HSM debuted in early 2006. Which means that all the tweens and teens who grew up with this film series are now fully-fledged adults. And they were out in the audience, in full force, singing along. It was a sweet moment to witness. And, not going to lie, I was singing along as well. I have a soft spot for the series myself. It'll always remind me of my first year of teaching. My students were obsessed HSM, and I was right there with them.

Next, Dyllon Burnside came out and performed an RnB version of Luck Be a Lady from Guys and Dolls. This number was okay. Dyllon's got a great voice and the woman who came up with him to dance as Luck was talented. But the performance had a rocky start because there wasn't an introduction. Someone just said into a mic, here's Dyllon Burnside, and then it started. I remember standing there thinking to myself, “Who's Dyllon Burnside?” I googled him today and found out he's on that Ryan Murphy show, Pose. It might have been a good idea to give that info up front. Anyhow, like I said, his performance was okay. RnB is not my cup of tea, but he had a good voice and a commanding stage presence so I could put up with that style for a single song.

After Dyllon, the composer of The Lightning Thief, Rob Rokicki, took the stage with a few backup singers. He performed Good Kid, The Lightning Thief's opening number. This performance was an example of how the timing of this year's festival hurt its lineup. Rob's a composer with a passable voice, not performer. And this song needs a cast of performers to be done properly. Unfortunately, Rob’s talented cast couldn't be there because it was Saturday night, and they had an evening show to do over at the Longacre. So we, the audience, were stuck with Rob. No offense to Rob, he seemed like a sweet guy, but he's not a performer. He should have been there to introduce his cast, not perform in their place.

After Rob, came the first set of the evening, a series of songs performed by Anais Mitchell, the composer/creator of Hadestown. I should probably begin this paragraph by explaining that I have not drunk the Hadestown kool aid. I have seen show, I did not like the show, but that is a matter for another post. Going into this set, I figured Anais would do a song from Hadestown and then take a few other Broadway tunes and put her folksy spin on them. That is not what happened. She sang 4 songs from Hadestown, and then a medley of songs from her newest album. To put it bluntly, her set was bad. Even if I liked Hadestown, which I do not, I would still have to be honest and say that she really missed the point of the festival. She was there to celebrate Broadway in general, not her show in particular. It'd be like Lin Manuel Miranda showing up and performing a whole bunch of songs from Hamilton. I mean, that'd be AMAZING, but I would have to be honest and admit that he would also have missed the point. What she should have done was a song from Hadestown, probably at the beginning, and then pick other Broadway songs. She could have told stories about showtunes that evoked special memories for her or demonstrated how certain showtunes might have folk elements hidden within them. What we didn't need was an ad for Hadestown/her latest album, but that was what we got. It was a real shame.

After Anais, Ariana DeBose took the stage. Thankfully, they gave her an introduction this time. Ariana's not a name yet, but that may change after Spielberg's West Side Story opens next year. (She's playing Anita) She kicked off her set with an RnB version of Shall We Dance from The King and I. Ariana is one of the artists who's been working on the R&H Goes Pop project on YouTube. Again, RnB is not my genre, but it was a good way to raise the energy there in the venue (as it at plummeted during the previous set) and to showcase her talent. Ariana has great tone, an impressive range, and real stage presence. So while I didn't enjoy the song itself, I was impressed with her performance overall. The next song she did was Invisible by Jason Robert Brown. It's a song off his latest album that he wrote for the Ronald McDonald House. This song was also done in an RnB style and, at this point, I started to worry that her whole set would be like this. Her next number was a medley of pop songs that dealt with cheating. It was fun, high energy, but again, it wasn’t Broadway. She could easily have used this to transition into Cell Block Tango or any other showtune about cheating (there are quite a few), but, alas, that wasn't the case. Instead, she covered Cold Play's Fix You. It was a great cover, don't get me wrong, but still not a Broadway song. At this point, I'd gone from starting to worry to full on worrying. Where were the showtunes? This is Elsie Fest, it's the one music festival for Broadway fans where their music is celebrated. That's why I love it so much and keep coming back year after year. So when her next number started off with All That Jazz from Chicago, I thought, “Finally!” but then she mashed it up with a few other Broadway/pop songs all sung by various “Divas” and my excitement diminished. Despite all of that, I held out hope that she'd close out her set with a song from West Side Story. It only made sense to get the crowd excited for next year's remake, right? Nope! Instead, she mashed up Donna Summer's Love to Love You Baby with Beyonce's Naughty Girl and I think an third song I didn't recognize, who knows? At that point, I was just glad to see her leave the stage; what a disappointment.

Gavin Creel was up next. He began his set with a mashup of hits from all the shows he's been a part of. I heard Put on Your Sunday Clothes, What Do I Need With Love, Ilona, Bad Idea, You and Me (But Mostly Me), and a moment of I've Got Life. This was a great way to kick things off; a reminder of all he's accomplished on Broadway thus far. Next, after a joke about always finding your light onstage, he performed Moving Too Fast from The Last Five Years, a personal favorite of mine. Then he did a song he wrote for a showcase he'll be putting on sometime next year. After that, he sat down at the piano to do Something Wonderful from the King and I. He ended his set with The Flesh Failures/Let the Sunshine In. Now, I knew he'd do something from Hair. I'd been hoping it'd be either Going Down (if you really want to hear someone gush about his version of that song, check out Seth Rudetsky's review on YouTube, it's delightful) or Where Do I Go?, but he chose the closing number instead. Not a bad decision, but it's not a song that can be performed solo. So, as it came time for the female lead's part in the song, I figured Cynthia or Ariana would come out to join him. That's the sort of thing that happens a lot at Elsie Fest. People will pop into each others sets to help out. Last year, famously, Will Roland, Grant Gustin, and Darren Criss teamed up to do Sincerely, Me during Grant's short set. And who could forget Aaron Tveit popping up during Leslie Odom Jr.'s set to duet with him on What You Own? But, for some unknown reason, Gavin tried to do the whole song by himself which just didn't work. So his strong set ended on kind of a sour note. I will say, Gavin's approach to crafting his setlist was perfect. He chose a good variety showtunes (old and new) and gave us a taste of what might be coming next for him. People working on set lists for next year ought to take notes. My only critique would be the lack of a female voice during his last number. Other than that, flawless.

Next, the cast of the upcoming show, Jagged Little Pill, took the stage. I had been looking forward to their performance as the show's been generating quite a bit of buzz since its out of town tryout last summer in Boston. At last year's Elsie Fest, both The Prom and Be More Chill performed two numbers a piece. So, with that blueprint in mind, I figured Jagged Little Pill would do maybe a lesser known Alanis song first and then end with a big hit. They started their set with Forgiven. It was a lesser known song that utilized the entire cast so it made for a strong opening number. I figured they'd end with something more well know like, You Learn or You Oughta Know. So I was genuinely shocked when they left the stage after only performing one song. What happened to their second song? Did they run out of time? Or, if for some reason they were only allowed one number this year, why did they choose such an obscure song? This was their chance to get the audience fired up for their new show, and by only performing Forgiven, they failed to do that. It was such a bizarre choice.

Cynthia Erivo, the lady of the hour, was up next. I'd missed her set at Elsie Fest 2016 so I was all the more eager to see which songs she'd choose to perform this time around. I figured she'd have to do one from The Color Purple, but the rest was anyone's guess. Would she go modern? Classic? A mix of both? There was no way of know, but I was excited to find out. She came out on stage, full of poise and grace, wearing these adorable cat-eye glasses and greeted the audience in such a sweet way. She seemed genuinely thrilled to see us all. She kicked off her set with Elvis's Can't Help Falling in Love. She sang it beautifully, but it was an odd choice. Then she sang Ain't No Way by Aretha Franklin. Again, she sang it flawlessly; this is Cynthia Erivo we're talking about. Everything she sings could be recorded and used as part of a master class in vocal performance. But where were the the showtunes? We were 0 for 2, and I was starting to get that worried feeling again. Then Darren came onstage with his guitar and accompanied her on Miss Celie's Blues by Quincy Jones. Also not a Broadway song, but it was featured in the film version of The Color Purple so it was a sort of nod to Broadway, I suppose. Then she did One Night Only. Finally, a showtune! Not one that I happen to like, but that point, I was desperate for something, anything. Next, she did a slowed down version of I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston, and I sighed internally. It's not that I don't like the song, I do, but it was yet another pop song. Clearly, no one had given the night's performers any sort of guidance so they were just singing, whatever. Cynthia followed up the Whitney Houston number with Cyndi Lauper's Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. If you're thinking to yourself, that's not a showtune either, you would be correct. The Lauper tune was how she ended her set. Again, like everything she performed, she sang it beautifully. My issue with her set was the overall lack of Broadway. This is Elsie Fest, a celebration of Broadway music. As a Broadway fan, that's what I want to hear. If I wanted to hear nothing but oldies, I'd go to an oldies music festival, if I wanted to hear all rock and roll, I'd go to one of those festivals, and so on and so on. I come to Elsie Fest for the showtunes, both old and new.

The last set before Darren's was Michael Feinstein's. Right off the bat, saving Michael's set for so late in the night was a very bad idea. He should have gone first or very nearly first when the audience was fresh and more forgiving. Michael is a very wealthly older gentleman. I don't know how he made his millions, but he was able to buy and open the cabaret club 54 Below so he's clearly got a few pennies tucked away. Maybe he flashed a few of those pennies to get such a prime timeslot, but that was a mistake. The audience was bored to tears by his set. Standing there while he performed I started to feel like the whole night up to that point had been a bit of a lousy dichotomy. Either listen to pop and RnB sung beautifully when all you want to hear are showtunes, or listen to showtunes sung poorly. I was standing there thinking, “Isn't there an option C? Didn't I pay to attend option C?” Yeah, Michael probably had a lovely voice back in the day, but that day has long since passed. He started his set with A Lot of Living to Do and then gave the audience a lecture on why Bye Bye Birdie is so important to the history of musical theater. Next, he did I Only Have Eyes for You from 42nd Street. He'd lost the crowd at that point. People were BORED. Then, after another lecture, he did the St. Louis Blues, badly. Then he put together I Don't Want to be Lonely Tonight with One Less Bell to Answer. The next song he did cannot, apparently, be googled so it will have to remain a mystery. Finally, at long last, he closed out his set with a Frank Sinatra medley. Darren came out to join him, which woke the audience up (some had literally laid down and gone to sleep). Looking back over his set, all 6 songs (5 too many if you ask me), I can't help but draw the conclusion that he gave the organizers of Elsie Fest an inordinate amount of money for a chance to perform. I hope they spend it wisely next year.

At long last, it was time for Darren's set. He had to go on 20 minutes late so we'll never know which songs he was forced to cut from the lineup. All I do know is that the 7 songs he chose were all winners. He kicked things off with a Glee song, Everybody Wants to Rule the World. It was excellent, pop at its finest. Next, he did Waving Through a Window and the crowd lost their minds. Fear not, I was right there with them; cheering and grinning like an idiot. If the crowed seemed keyed up during the Dear Evan Hansen number, they found a new stratosphere of joy to reach when he next performed Wait for It from Hamilton. It felt like suffering through all the bad sets that night had been worth it, almost. Next he pulled out his guitar and started to perform Wig in a Box and, I kid you not, I almost started crying. It had been a long night, full of disappointments, and Darren's set was pure perfection. He then paused, midway through the song, to bring out Lena Hall. What a treat! She sang her verse powerfully and then, Darren paused again to introduce John Cameron Mitchell, and the three of them brought the song home. I felt so euphoric at that point that I lack the words to properly describe it. What a historic moment! How do you follow something like that up? By taking things back to Hogwarts! First Jamie Lyn Beatty joined Darren on stage to perform Harry from AVPM. Next, Joey Richter and Lauren Lopez performed Granger Danger to riotous applause. Then, for the final number of Elsie Fest 2019, the entire Star Kid crew came out do do Goin' Back to Hogwarts. It was such a special moment; being in that crowd of fans singing along 10 years after the musical blew up online. After team Star Kid took their final bows, Darren thanked us and said he hoped to see us back next year.

Final thoughts, I hope to see him back next year too. But I also hope the organizers of Elsie Fest take a good hard look at how things went this year, and make some changes. First off, the festival needs to be held on a Sunday. To put on a festival, you need attendees and performers, and you're not going to get enough of either on a Saturday, you're just not. Second, they need to start booking talent now. They need names to bring people in. Because, even if fans are available, they're sure as heck not making the trip to see Michael Feinstein, someone who will be in a Spielberg film next year, and a kid from Pose. I'll even leave a few suggestions here: Ben Platt, Jonathan Groff, Lin Manuel Miranda, Jessie Mueller, Alex Brightman, Ethan Slater, Renee Elise Golsberry, Telly Leung, Eva Noblezada, George Salazar, Jenn Colella, etc. Third and finally, they need to have a good long think about what they want Elsie Fest to be. If they want it to remain a celebration of Broadway, then they need to book performers who are committed to that vision. If they want to change the vision, they need to let the audience know ahead of time so they can make an informed decision when buying tickets. To be perfectly honest, I felt a bit duped this year. I had paid for one thing but had gotten something else instead. So, there you are, Elsie Fest organizers. Do those three things between now and next October, and you'll have a successful festival in 2020.

[olboypacman]

Make Room

Raven's made peace with the idea of loving Beast Boy, but isn't sure of how to express or confess her feelings or if she should. She consults her mother during a visit to Azarath. Sister piece to 'Trigon the Benevolent.

****

A/N: I don’t own Teen Titans

****

A black-haired older woman lays down a plain white saucer with matching teacup, almost filled to the brim with warm herbal tea in front a purple-haired younger woman seated at a brown table. The young woman is dressed in black, long sleeved leotard, royal blue ruffled boots that reach ankle level and a gold belt with circular dark red gems embedded in it. There’s also a hooded cloak that matches her boots sitting over the back of the chair she’s seated in.

The older woman is dressed similarly to her younger counterpart, except her leotard, cloak and boots are colored white. She smiles fondly at the younger woman, which other than a little more roundness in her face, pale grey skin tone and larger eyes, is practically the splitting image of the older black-haired woman.

Older woman takes a seat directly across for the younger one, then starts to stir her own cup of tea.

“Boy trouble, dear?” Said the older woman before she took a sip. “I’m not really an expert on the subject, considering your father is the only man I’ve ever loved.”

The younger woman’s gaze is fixed to her tea, the cup being grasped by both of her hands. “It isn’t trouble exactly. I know I’m sure of my feelings. It’s more I’m terrified of what could happen if I confess.” The younger woman droned in a monotoned voice.

The older woman giggles, “Again, Raven. It’s not my area of expertise. Have you tried telling Garfield how you feel? Being straight forward with your father always worker for me.”

“Mother! It’s not that simple!”

The older woman giggles once more, “What’s the worst that can happen, dear Raven?”

It’s amazing, thinks Raven, Lady Arella, spiritual leader of our people, laughing at her daughter’s romantic plight.

The red faced, embarrassed Raven waits until her mother stops laughing.

“If I’m rejected, I could end the world, again.” Raven said dryly.

“Oh, stop!” Said Arella, waiving her hand at her daughter. “Do you think Garfield feels the same?”

“That’s the thing. I try not to pry on my friend’s feelings, like you and Azar had taught me, but some of them feel so strongly I can’t help but sense what they feel.” Said Raven, running her hand through her hair in frustration. “Occasionally, when he practically begs me to hang out with the team, I catch his eyes and a very strong, very brief feeling of something underneath his friendly affection for me before he breaks contact. I’d imagine he’d been taught to dull his emotions by Mento, lest they run into an enemy who can use it against him. But, it’s somewhat like the affection I feel from Starfire. It’s confusing. Does he feel affection for me like a close friend or sister like Kori? What is he hiding beyond his friendly affection for me?” Said Raven, looking away from her mother. Raven takes a long sip of her tea, then re-establishes eye contact with Arella. “When did you know you and father were in love with each other?”

Arella smiles brightly once more at Raven, “It wasn’t just one ‘aha’ moment. After he saved me from the Church of Blood, he arranged for me to stay with an ally of his. Even though Trigon wasn’t around all the time, he still checked up on me, talked with me. And at that point in my life I didn’t really care what happened to me after that betrayal by the Church of Blood. It didn’t matter that I was comfortable around him or that I honestly thought he was handsome. When I confronted him about why he was being nice to me, he said something to the effect of, ‘Speaking from experience, I can sense you need a friend.’” Her face takes a solemn expression, “I was lucky he reached out. I don’t know what would’ve become of me had he not. It was around then the dynamic between us started to change. I started being receptive to his friendliness, we spoke about everything in length. I guess when I really noticed I was feeling something for him was during one birthday.” Arella points to the jewel embedded in her forehead. “When I was a teenager, I got a fake a chakra stone put into my forehead. My foster father at the time didn’t take kindly to that and violently tore the piercing out, leaving a scar on my forehead. As a birthday gift, Trigon healed the scar and embedded a real chakra gem in its place. It actually awakened empathetic and magical potential. I remember smiling at him with tears in my eyes and that gesture made me realize my feelings for him. He would later admit that it was my smile that day that made him realize his feelings for me as well.” She finished with faraway look on her face, and a pink tint to her cheeks. “Much like how you described with Garfield, I occasionally catch your father watching me, not with eyes of something he wants, well, maybe with some want.” She laughs.

“Mom, you’re his peace, his rock. You keep him grounded when the emotional fragments become too much to bear.” Said Raven.

"We both are, Raven. Do you remember when Trigon showed you his memories, dear?”

Raven nods in the affirmative, recalling the somber memory of find out her father’s past.

“Your father’s love… It’s difficult to explain, but it's strong. Intoxicating even. It’s burning hot, like a white star and comforting like a secure embrace. Is that what you sense with your brief glimpses from Gar?”

The young half-demoness nods meekly.

Arella gets up from her seat across from Raven. When she reaches her daughter, she lays a kiss to Raven’s forehead. “Open your senses Raven. Have a little courage and tell Garfield how you feel. I have faith that you’ll find what you’re looking for.”

****

After consulting her mother, Raven teleported back to Titans Tower. More specifically in her room.

From there she decided to make her way to the tower’s kitchen area, having not had her fill of tea in Azarath.

The door to common/kitchen area hisses open and there’s nothing but the blare of television to greet her.

Beast Boy pokes his head up over the couch to see who’s graced him with their presence.

“Oh, it’s you Rae!” He said in surprise.

She read his emotions with her empathetic senses.

There it is, she thinks.

Like many other times before, right beneath his friendly affection for her.

Comforting like an embrace.

Hot as the hottest of stars.

And almost strong enough to get high on.

Love.

And just like that it’s gone.

“Uh, Raven? You OK?” Says the changeling having interrupted her realization.

“Huh?” She said embarrassed having been caught staring. “Sorry,” she mutters, pulling her hood up to hide her blushing face, “I must’ve spaced out. Where’s everyone?”

Beast Boy throws his arm over the back of the couch to hold himself up, having been lying down previously. “Dates,” said Beast Boy, a hint of sadness coming across his features, “Rob and Star are at the movies and Bee was in town and dragged Cy to grab a bite to eat. Seems everyone’s getting together these days, huh Rae?” He finished with a smile that didn’t quite reach his face.

She hums noncommittally as she makes her way to the cabinet to grab her kettle to warm some water for tea.

“Poor baby,” intoned Happy. “How much longer are we going to wait to confess? I can’t stand to see my Beasty so sad!”

With his feelings for her practically confirmed at this point, the empath racks her mind trying think of a way to confess without shattering all the windows in the tower.

While filling the kettle and putting on a flame on the stove, Raven’s interrupted by yet another one of her emotoclones.

“Remember what mother said, ‘have a little courage.’” Said Brave.

An idea pops into Raven’s head at Brave’s declaration.

“It’s just crazy enough to work,” said Knowledge.

“What if he isn’t receptive to it?” Said Timid.

“It has to! Who could deny what our Raven has planned!” intoned Affection.

With her plan in mind, Raven removes the kettle and pours the warm water into a waiting cup. She grabs two bags, throwing it into the cup, adds honey and takes a long sip.

“I’m going to need you, Brave,” she said quietly before polishing off her tea.

****

The resident verdant shapeshifter is lounging the plush black leather of the living room couch, hands behind his head, enjoying a binge session of Bob’s Burgers.

His enjoyment of the shenanigans of the Belcher family’s interrupted, as Raven steps in his line of sight.

“Hey Rae, what’s up?” He asked, not that he minded the view.

She stares down at him, determined look on her face. “Scooch,” she said simply, waving her hand.

“Wha?”

“Make room for me, Garfield.”

Gar motions to the couch, “Um, there’s plenty of room on the couch Rae. I’ll sit up to give you space, if you want.”

She hums once more. She then unclasps her cloak, throwing it toward the other end of the couch.

A blush comes over the face of the shapeshifter at the rare sight of Raven without her cloak, the changeling more than pleased at the sight of the empath’s shapely legs.

She cracks a rare smile at the changeling. “It’s fine,” she said simply.

Her next actions come as a great surprise Beast Boy.

She takes a seat on the edge of the couch, her rear touching his hip. She then swings herself around, laying her body on top of a half of his. She wraps an arm behind his neck, her other resting on his chest. She then entangles her legs with his, her right leg in between his, her knee falling just short of the most sensitive part of his anatomy. She wriggles around on top of him trying find a comfortable position. Once she finds comfort, she nuzzles his neck. Her lips are right by his pulse. If she had a mind to, she could…

“No can do, boss!” Yelled Happy. “That’s gonna take more courage and I hate to tell you, but this impromptu cuddle session took pretty much all we had.”

An image of her emotoclones standing over an unconscious Brave in Nevermore flashes in Raven’s mind. The emotoclone has a dopy grin on her face and her cheeks are flushed as her head is cradled in Affection’s lap, as the representation of love fans her off.

Thank, Brave, you did us good. And thank you mother. Thinks Raven.

“So, does this mean what I think it means?” Asks Beast Boy.

“Yes, it does, Gar.”

“Well, in that case…”

Raven releases a yelp in surprise as she’s repositioned by Garfield as he forcefully reconfigures their position.

Now, she’s sitting across his lap, her legs on the couch, arms wrapped around his neck as he’s sitting up regularly on the couch, her body pressed up to his.

“I think I might owe you a date, Raven.”

She laughs at her changeling’s declaration.

[psychedelicharrie]

Behavior Exercise

Hi girls, guys and non-binary pals <3 

This is the scond fanfic i write, this one is inspired in a movie called The Road Within and hopefully my first series so please let me know if you want me to keep posting it, maybe is not as good as i think it is haha i’d really appretiate some feedback, also, english is not my first lenguage so please be nice i’m trying :( 

WARNINGS: 4k+ mentions of drugs, alcohol and mental illness. This fanfic contains sensitive topics like anorexia, OCD and drug addictions if you feel triggered by any of this topics please do not read it. 

“Nineteen, twenty, twenty one, twenty two, twenty three” You could hear Robert whispering a number for each mug whilst cleaning one per one with an anti-bacterial microfiber cloth he just bought yesterday. You take another sip of your non sugared coffee already cold keeping your gaze in your roommate who was onto an old baby blue wooden chair, his favorite, because it was easier to clean than the other ones “Twenty four, twenty five…twenty fiv-five” he stutters with a low voice almost like a secret he can only hear.  You put your mug down on the table knowing what is coming next, like every other morning, he just hated odds numbers.

“Five- twenty fiv-five” He keeps repeating walking back and forth all over the kitchen with his hand scratching his head pulling his blonde curls. “Hey, good morning” A deep British accent stops you from standing up and walking towards Robert making him stop as well. He looked at both of you just to switch his gaze feeling the pressure in the air as he continues to grab an empty plastic cup from the kitchen bar assuming he could get in trouble if he gets anywhere near the mugs shelf.

“Morning, did you have a good rest?” You greet with an awkward smile on your face. Harry moved in just a week ago so it is understandable he’s not fully used to Rob’s breakdowns as you are after nine years. You know Rob since secondary school; a catholic schoolhouse in Portlaoise where special and difficult teenagers were sent by his parents to make them better, doesn’t work pretty well if they ask you.  Robert and you shared some classes and weekly group’s therapy meetings, however, you only knew him as the schizo boy just to find out, years later, he does not suffer from schizophrenia but a severe ODC and constants paranoid episodes, it all got worst four years ago when he came home to find out his mom had left a day before the graduation  night, all she left was a note saying how sorry she was, a load of cash, a blue tuxedo he was supposed to be wearing at the dance and an empty home.

Four years ago

You lost count of how many minutes, maybe hours, you have been staring at the old pink dress your dad had bought you for tonight’s dance, it would be better if he could actually share the evening with you but it was too much to ask, you thought. It had stopped raining some hours ago but a loud splash outside your window snaps you from your deep thoughts about tonight, a rowdy cry followed the splash “SHE LEFT ME, WHY DOES EVERYBODY BLODY LEFT ME?” You ran to your window to see what was happening, and then, you saw Rob on a puddle wearing anything but his underpants and his navy blue tuxedo in his hands all covered in mud, just as him. He was  crying and screaming while Miss Gillen held him helping him for hurting himself  “MY DAD IS DEAD AND MOM HATES ME, I-I ‘AVE NO ONE, NO ONE FUCKING CARES ABOUT ME” He yelled at the sky escaping from Miss Gillen’s arms slapping mercilessly his face and pulling his blonde hair roughly.

You have spent almost a decade in that hypocrite househole where religious people pretended to know what was good and bad, and even worst, pretending they care about all of you. You knew people were lonely back there, after all, most of you were abandoned by your families, they just gave up on most of you and you were aware of that. You knew everyone there was ill, was broken and alone, new people came and then they left, some people have been taken to the hospital after a breakdown and they have never returned, it was hard to live in a place like that were you could share breakfast with someone just to wake up the next day with their bed empty and another casket full, that’s why you decided to not make any friends, carrying with other person’s problems could destroyed you just as much as losing another loved one, but when you saw him all covered in mire when just yesterday he cried in the middle of the cafeteria because he spilled a drop of tea in his pants something changed in you. You almost didn’t recognize him; it was the same guy who couldn’t even walk outside his bedroom without latex gloves, however he was there outside your room, broken and scared. He had no one and you knew that feeling.

“Rumor has it you have your own place now” You said having a sit next to him in cafeteria two days after the dance. He looked strange at you “do yo-do you eat?” He answered you sharply but those comments didn’t bother you anymore. You smiled at him taking a sip of your water bottle “so, is it true?” You insisted “‘s not mine, ‘s me mums” he mumbled cleaning the spot of the table you just removed your hand from. “But she left” you say abruptly making him look at you, finally getting some strong eye contact, he kept silence trying not to cry, you leaned closer to him and whispered “when are we escaping this hole then?”.

Now

It’s been four years since you convinced Rob to leave that place, four years since you’ve been living together in that house his mom had left for him, and four years of the only caring human interaction you both have; you take care for each other and you could say it was the first time in ages that you haven’t feel lonely.

“Could been better if I’m honest” Harry replies with a cheeky smile “Of course it could have been better, it could have been better if you just would stop yourself from snoring the whole night” Robert cuts Harry off “Did you know he goes to sleep without taking a shower? and WE have to share room it’s just unacceptable, unaccepta- unacceptable” You can see Rob’s face turning red and his eyes looking at you almost popping out at the memory of last night.

“Oh I’m sorry, did my snoring muffle that boring music you sleep with?” Harry says without looking at him as he pours some orange juice to his cup “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate quiet music you cheap ass Mick Jagger” Robert spits roughly making Harry giggle as he decides to stop the argue blowing him a kiss. He was cheeky and irreverent and you like that, Harry was like a new specimen like a new world you wish to explore, it was something you have never seen before, neither you or Rob haven’t met anyone like Harry, you feel excited about this new experience even though now and then you feel guiltiness for making Rob go through this, you know he’s not looking forward this as much as you are, in fact since Harry is living with you Rob’s stress levels has been higher than usual.

When you left the clinic you decided come up with a plan to keep both of you sane, you knew Rob’s money it wasn’t going to last more than a few months and his disability allowance was not enough for both of you, so you decided to get a job and attend to some free therapy session at a community center near Rob’s house, and that’s how Harry came into your life.

One month ago

What it seemed like a normal summer rain predicting its end becomes a dreadful storm within minutes. You make you steps larger covering your head with your old jacked which is completely useless as you try to rush Rob who is a couple steps behind you freaking out because his boots and the bottom of his pants are all covered in mud. There’s only a couple of blocks left to the community center where both of you attend to the weekly sessions that keep yourself sort of sane. You arrive to the center soaking wet and just in time to the session, however, you spend a few minutes taking care of Rob helping him to clean himself.

Both of you take a seat in the circle in the middle of the huge cold room; the therapist, Arthur welcomes you with a big smile understanding the weather was not something you could control or change. “So now that we’re complete…” he stand up and says looking at Rob and you “Are you okay, Robert?” he asks kindly to what Rob just nods “great, now I want to start this meeting introducing our new member, he comes all the way from London so I ask you to be nice and make him feel welcome”.

You were too busy taking care of your friend and cursing at the wind that you haven’t notice the new member of the group; a tall white guy with silky curls, they seem recently wet as well even tho he doesn’t look bother about it. Your gaze travels his figure from bottom to top; he’s wearing some old used boots, a pair of blue jeans and a grey hoodie. You notice his big and strong hands as he says hi to the group with one of them; both decorated with multiple rings, It’s not until your glance meets his big emerald eyes ornamented with some bags under them that you realized you are probably staring too much, as you try to look somewhere else you see he offers a smile at you; not yet a malicious one, not yet a kindly one, it was more like something in between; a cheeky lovely but arrogant smile.

“Hi, I’m Harry, Nice to meet you all” He says briefly without taking his eyes off of you he looks at the rest of the group smiling still just to sit down again. You could hear some distant and slow claps, probably your partners are just as confused as you; most of the introductions were followed by a whole crazy story of why are they there and even some tears and breakdowns but never just a cheeky smile and a breathtaking glance. “You probably want to tell us why you’re here Harry” Arthur says looking at him.

“’kay, if you want me to” He says rubbing his palms on his thighs looking at the ground until he speaks again “…I’m a sex addict” he looks up staring challenging at Arthur chuckling. Arthur looks quite annoyed he probably knows what the newbie’s here for, you’ve shared these sessions with some sex addicts they only last two or three weeks top, but you are pretty sure he’s just joking. “Probably just another junkie” Rob speaks up louder than he expected. The whole room is filled with silence for a couple seconds even you fell Harry deep gaze on Rob “Wanna bet pretty boy? can show you”

“Harry is here because he’s trying to keep himself sober and we’re to help him, okay?” Arthur interrupts quickly “He’s new in town so if you know about some apartment available for him would be a great favor”. The rest of the session keeps going pretty normal even though you can’t focus on any of your partners, you are too confused yet intrigued about the whole new guy situation; after that interaction you can tell Rob has been tense since then, on the other side Harry seems cool about it, you were expecting him being an asshole with the rest of the group as they share their week with you, but instead he listens carefully, looking attentive to each person who stands up, he even shares some advices with them, good advices. Robs is kind of right, he is a junkie, still he is not just another junkie, there was something different about him and you want it to find out.

“Hey, so the new guy is looking for somewhere to live” You say to Rob who was cleaning the snack table of the therapy room. “There are a lot of bridges he can live under” He replies without looking at you, he was too focused stacking some water bottles carefully. You take a piece of fruit and a bottle of water as you feel Arthur Gaze on you “I was thinking he can live with us, we have a spare room” Robert stops abruptly his stacking process just to give you a perplexed look “are you seriously suggesting me to offer my house to a bloody drug addict we just literally met just because he’s hot?”

“C’mon… I never said he was hot” Rob turns his face back to the table cleaning something else you don’t even see “That’s not the point, I’m not letting a stranger sleeping under my roof”  “You let me sleep under your roof, beside, we can actually use some extra money” you say looking for the new guy in the room “and he seems fun” Robert grunts rolling his eyes at the sight of you looking for him. “Robert, Y/N, we’re about to the closure would you please join us?” Arthur says from a distance. “take it as behavior exercise” You insist Rob with a begging look with both of your hands together “I’ll think about it” He cuts the conversation walking away from you.

One week ago

You make your way into de kitchen to find Rob finishing his cleaning routine; you overslept this morning understandable after keeping yourself with almost anything but water for the last three days. “Morning babe” You said weakly to your friend as he quickly reach a chair for you to sit “Hey, I made you some breakfast” He says as he opens the fridge taking out a plate with fruit and oats “There’s no need Rob, I’m going to be late to work” You say as you try to stand up  but he grabs your arm in order to stop you from getting up, you look at his hand wrapped around your arm and look back at him in shock; his germophobia doesn’t let him have any physical interaction with other people, he never touches anybody and freaks out when somebody touches him. Is the first time in years you’ve feel his touch; even though he’s wearing latex gloves as usual you can feel the warm emanating from his big and soft hand.

“You might take care of me most of the time but I’m not stupid Y/N, I know you haven’t eaten a full meal in four days, so please, sit down and eat your breakfast” He finally releases your arm as he walks to his room to probably change his gloves. The whole situation leaves so speechless that you don’t have any other choice to do what you’ve been told. You can’t remember a time when Robert has ever touched you or at least without having a crisis, definitely your relationship has grown a lot in those couple years and now it seems like he cares about you more every day and part of you couldn’t just let him down.  

As you keep eating your meal and thinking about your relationship with Rob a knock on the door snaps you out to reality and you hear Rob rushing to the door “no, no, you can’t leave the table until you finish”. He reaches to the door and takes a big breathe before open it just to find a pair of emerald eyes looking at him “Oh Hi, nice to see you again Pretty boy” Harry says after finishing his cigarette and stepping on it “Oh it’s you, what do you want?” he asks hiding half of his body behind the door. Harry smirks and shows him the black suitcase he was holding. Robert knew what he was there for he just forgot about it when he looked into his eyes. Today is the day that Harry moves into the house; after a couple endless nights convincing Rob of letting him stay today you got yourself a new roommate.

“Oh, right, come on in, I guess” Rob says opening the door wider for Harry to come in. “Take your shoes off” Robert adds without looking at him walking towards the kitchen “Normally I only accept to take my clothes off after a couple of drinks but for you pretty b..” “We don’t use shoes inside the house, that’s the first rule, it’s not a joke” Rob cuts Harry off abruptly facing him again “Okay, take it easy they’re off” Harry says without erasing his cheeky smile of his face “I think we didn’t even say hi properly ” Harry adds offering his hand to Rob, he has heard that he’s quite special to interact with but there’s no person in the world that Harry can’t just win over, he’s irrelevant and funny and just full of natural charm, everybody likes him and he’s aware of that but there is something in Rob Harry just feels attracted to, he likes to push his buttons it’s like a challenge and he has always loved a good challenge.

Robert stares at Harry’s Hand for a moment “I don’t do that” he adds looking back into Harry’s eyes “you don’t do handshakes?” Harry replies chuckling at Rob’s weird affirmation; who doesn’t do handshakes? “I don’t touch people” Robert replies almost yelling at Harry; his face started to turn red and his breathe is getting harder to catch. Harry’s afraid maybe he went too far but it was not his intention at all, he like to mess with people but not like that. “Hey, it’s fine, hi Harry”

You rushed to finish your plate as soon as you heard Harry’s deep voice coming from the door not because you feel excited but because you’re worried about Rob’s reaction, after all they didn’t have a great first meeting. You follow their voices that lead you to the living room; Harry was wearing some regular skinnies and a black t-shirt somehow on him that simple outfit looks like the most complex combination of clothing, a bunch of tattoos covered his arms making him look cooler than the junkie you see every Friday night. Robert raising his voice makes you stop staring at your new roommate and actually talk to him.

“Hey, N/Y, morning” Harry answers with a big smile on his face, you don’t remember his skins glowing as much as it does today it is hard not to stare at him. “Are you ready to move in?” You ask nicely as Robert tries to calm down adjusting his gloves and taking deep breathes “Yep, pretty much” Harry says pointing at his suitcase. You show him the place; is not too big it’s only a small one floor house with three bedrooms but it’s a way to make him feel comfortable. As you show him around Robert starts telling him the most important rules of the house and Harry only nods at both of you.

“So this would be your room” you say finishing the house tour opening the door between Rob’s bedroom and yours “As we told you before It’s not habitable right now, we need to fix the roof and most of the walls they’re almost ruined by humidity, we were thinking maybe with the deposit and probably your first payment we can like fix it meanwhile you can share room with Robert if that’s okay with you” You say showing him where the humidity has damage the roof “Sure, it’s going to be a pleasure” Harry winks at Robert who seems bothered enough already. You can see how annoyed Rob is by this new roommate situation, however, you know if he wouldn’t agree with this he would tell you, besides somehow it seems like he’s more anxious that bothered about it; he thinks you didn’t realize but you saw him cleaning his room twice last night a strange way to say he’s excited about the next day. Maybe both of you are excited about sharing your life with someone new, someone as special as Harry seems to be, maybe it’s just attraction, maybe it’s just Harry’s aura that makes everyone go a little bit crazy about him or maybe it’s only your mind playing tricks on you but at that moment you realized something in your life is about to change drastically and you quite like that.

Now

“C’mon Y/N you have to finish it” Robert says with his elbows on the table resting his head on both of his hands, you’ve been struggling to finish your meal for almost an hour now and Robert is more than exhausted now, you can see it and you feel bad of seeing those lovely green eyes so tired because of you but you just can´t finish it. “I can´t Robert I promise” You say pouting your mouth on a failed attempt of leaving the table. Harry just appears on the kitchen and watches the scene grabbing an apple “take it as a behavior exercise” Rob adds with an exhausted voice. “Behavior exercise? what’s that? Harry asks with his mouth full of the bite he just took.

“Back in the schoolhouse we had exercises to learn how to deal with our illnesses; they made us do things to get tour limits and they just acted like nothing was happening at all” you say playing with the food on your plate. “Once they made me walk with dirty trousers for a whole day!” Robert continues giving Harry an indignant look. Robs turns back at you pushing your plate closer to you.

“Interesting” Harry responds taking the seat in front of you; he search for your gaze and looks right into your eyes getting your full attention as he usually does whenever he’s near you. “C’mon Y/N you’re better than a plate of food, are you gonna let a couple of vegetables defeat you?” the room is filled with silence as he smiles at you and leaves the kitchen making his way out to the porch. If anyone else would say that to you you would throw the plate at them with no hesitation, but the way those words left his mouth like he knew everything about yourself plus the way he looked at you just made you believe every single of them. You look back at Robert who was already falling asleep on the table and continue to finish your meal.

Once your plate is empty you help Robert to go to bed and clean your dishes as you always do. You remember Harry’s outside and decide to make him company smoking your nightly cigarette as usual. He was laying half of his body on the wooden bench of the porch. He looks so lost in his thoughts you almost feel guilty about interrupting because as soon as you step outside he turns and smiles widely at you “How was your behavior exercise?” he say probably joking or probably actually concerned you never know what his intentions are, that man was a complete enigma to you. “Beat the fuck out if it” you say quietly as you stand beside him lighting the last cigarette of the pack. He chuckles loudly in responds.

After that you just stay there enjoying the silence and the smoke coming out of both of your cigarettes; the night is particularly quiet, the stars are shinier and the wind juts take the bunch of your thoughts and concerns with it. It’s nice to spend time with someone who’s not constantly asking if you have washed your hands already or telling you how disgusting is the habit of smoking. None of you feel the need to fill the lack of conversation at that moment; you are so focused on enjoying the moment that you almost don’t realize that out of nowhere Harry decides to break the silence with a question.

“Why did you let me stay in here?” He asks with a husky voice keeping his eyes on his cigarette “Robert thinks you’re hot” you respond after a couple of seconds and even though you are looking at the sky you can feel Harry smiling at your answer. “yeah, well, I don’t blame him” he says annoyingly turning his body towards you “but I’m sure that’s not the only reason why you guys let a good-looking junkie staying at your place, and if you do I’m quite concerned, I must reckon” you face him narrowing your eyes at his smart ass answer.

“Robert and I have this weird dream of make a sheltered for people in need, people who have been abandoned by their families like us, we saw a chance on you” you say letting the smoke of you cigarette fill your lungs and letting it out. “It’s like the biggest behavior exercise you ever had then?” Harry says with an adorable voice, one you’ve never heard before “You might say” You say smiling at him just to continue enjoying the clear sky above you.

[eurosong]

Undo my ESC - 2019, SF1

Hello there, folks, and welcome to the first part of Undo my ESC, where I take a look at the field this year and, for each country, make a feasible change – as small as, for example, minor tinkerings with the staging, or as big as a different song completely winning a national final. It’s all light-hearted and just my opinion, of course. Allons-y... Cyprus: We start off completely in the deep end. I loathe “Fuego”, and this repackaged Fue2.0 is no better and is indeed perhaps worse to me given that I hate desperate attempts to catch lightning in the same jar. I also find Tamta a very unsympathetic character. I don’t know what I’d do to improve this, other than replace the internal selection with a national final with some songs actually in Greek and with local character. Montenegro: Things do not improve... but at least the solution is easier! Montenegro had a decent national final in which literally any other song would have been a better choice. I particularly liked “Nevinost”, and so did the unfortunately out-voted expert jury, so would be tempted to give D mol’s ticket to Tel Aviv to its artist, Ivana Popović, instead. I do find D mol to be sweet kids though, so the other part of me would be sad to rob them of their time in the limelight and would instead have taken the 90s throwback and bizarre random background sound elements out of their song, replaced the score with one that emphasised the traditional musical elements, and kept the lyrics in Montenegrin.

Finland: Three strikes and I am almost out. I really struggle with the new UMK format – I understand the logic behind it, just as I did when it was a thing in the UK in the early 90s, but I think it only really works if an artist has a wide-ranging repertoire. If not, then you end up with 3 samey songs that only appeal to people who like the music styles that artist makes. I’m not an EDM fan and I would have taken the relative flop of Saara Aalto last year as indication to return to a multi-artist UMK. Plenty of artists from previous years who could be worth a spot in one such.

Poland: I was disappointed by the disappearance of Poland’s national final, but I can’t say I was too surprised after a few underperforming years. I have to commend the Polish broadcasters for going for something popular within their own country, without being overly preöccupied as to how it would play outwith their borders. Pali się is one of those entries that I don’t like much but which I respect. My changes would be to remove the pointless English intro and outro, which, if one were not paying attention, one might not notice actually being in English. I’d also try to make the song a little less linear, as the song feels mostly confined to one pace.

Slovenia: Finally, we come to a country where I can change next to nothing. Many people I know were disappointed that “Kaos” was not elected as the Slovenes’ song. Whilst I found it an earworm, I really didn’t like her haughty, “I’m only in EMA to promote my new disc” attitude – and I really preferred the delectable, contemplative and intimate “Sebi.” It’s pure elegance in simplicity, and I wouldn’t need to change a thing.

Czechia: I appreciate the Czechs’ creätive way of bypassing the expenses of a traditional national final – whilst still giving fans a choice – by holding their selection online. Really cute this year was the way they tried to equalise differences in funding by making the candidates’ official video be a low-budget affair filmed in their flats. I liked quite a few songs of their selection, with the eventual winner, “Friend of a friend”, middle of my rankings. I would, of course, opt for my #1 of the NF to win instead, the delightful slice of “Bohemiana del Rey” style that was “True Colours.”

Hungary: Hungary’s A Dal has the cachet to attract a number of returning artists, so it was not surprising that, eventually, it would be won by someone who’d triumphed before – and I’m delighted it was Joci Papái, one of the biggest revelations of the Hungarian NFs for me. Yet, as is often the case with folk coming back to take a second bite of the cherry, the sophomore effort comes short of the first – “Az én apám” is lovely, touching, but lacks the bite and edge that “Origo” had. I might have JP come second and hopefully return for a second victory in 2020/1 with something a bit stronger, and send in his place the soaring but melancholic “Madár, repülj”.

Belarus: Life is too short to do some things, and whilst I try to listen to pretty much every national final song, one of the things life is too short for is intensively following the Belarusian national finals with their hundred-odd auditions. I saw a few, though, and they were a rum lot. Musically, Aura’s touching “Čaravala” was probably the best of those I heard – but was also strangely won over by the unpretentious, fun ode to tubers that was “Potato, aka Buľba” and depending on my mood, I might give it the nod either.

Serbia: Beovizija had a great lineüp yet again, and there were a number of songs I would have been happy to have gotten the win, including the eventual winner, but also those of Saška Janks, Extra Nena and Ivana Vladović. The latter’s beautiful “Moja bol”, with strings to die for, was my favourite on the night, but in retrospect, I’m not sure I’d replace the equally stunning “Kruna.” I’d be tempted to send it in its acoustic version though, where Nevena’s lovely voice stands out even better.

Belgium: Ô, Belgium. I adored “City Lights”, and so my expectations were really high. This is nice enough, but a bit beige, and doesn’t quite deliver, especially the way the enjoyably tense verses lead to an anticlimactically limp chorus. I’d change that with something that actually feels like a pay off to the verses and the Walloons would have a better shot of shining again.

Georgia: I have to say that, once again, I find myself being one of the few people I know who has some love for Georgia. Whilst it wasn’t truly my cup of tea, I appreciated and enjoyed Iriao’s song last year on some level, and the same is true of Oto’s – he has a powerful voice and it’s a strong, if rather unsettling song. I think, though, that I prefer the darkly ethereal Sevdisperi zgva, which sounds like what I imagine would result if Björk were tasked to write a Bond tune.

Australia: After a few years of rumours, Oz finally jumped on the national final train, and, credit where it is due, it was one of the most intriguing national finals of the year. It was as if SBS had decided to atone for its aggressively MOR pop picks of previous years by actually showcasing some musical diversity. Unlike a lot of folk, I don’t dislike “Zero gravity” – it has a meaningful lyrical background and some quirky charm. But there’s no question about whether I would replace it and with what. I still get chills every time I listen to “2000 and Whatever” – the sheer, irrepressible burst of positive energy and the power of its “kulila miranyi” still give me goosebumps. Damn straight one of the best song of the entire year.

Iceland: Given the amount of hype Hatari have received – and how fans flooded videos of its competitors with comments about how they shouldn’t “fuck up” by picking them instead – I may be one of the very few who would change the result there. Yet, I almost definitely would, even though I typically like lesser-heard genres at Eurovision and like the heavier, industrial musical style. And yet, I find this quite trying. It seems like a very knowing, art school student pastiche and I’m not here for their “above the contest” feel or the BDSM gimmickry. I’d be tempted to replace this with the low-key but lovely “Hvað ef ég get ekki elskað”, or to at least pare back the OTT disdainful irony.

Estonia: It feels almost like another era when I was a firm exponent of the idea of Eesti being Beesti. Three years of immense disappointments will quench that type of fire. Whilst leaving behind the stunning Spirit Animal in 2017 and opting for a generic poperatic vocal exercise in 2018 were excruciating, this might be the biggest let down yet – a land of so many talented musicians having to rely on an Avicii pastiche sang with no small difficulty by a reedy-voiced Swede. I found Eesti Laul very slim pickings this year, and found the other two frontrunners to be rather bland too – even the delightful Sandra Nurmsalu came with a tune that, whilst pleasant, sounded less nomadic epic and more toilet tissue commercial backing track. I would have gone for Kadiah’s delicate “Believe” as my pick instead.

Portugal: FdC was once again one of the best national finals, and the one for whose result I was perhaps most anxious. There were a few songs I really liked, like “Pugna”, “Mais brilhante...” and “Inércia”, but when the dust settled, there was only one song I wanted to see winning – “Telemóveis,” of course, which I was delighted to see prevail. I have some real worries about the bizarre staging distracting from the message and emotional power of the song, though. There’s so much going on, and it might be enough to push people from being entranced to being weirded out. I’d get rid of the spoons, sort out the clothes and try to make things impressive without being so extra.

Greece: I actually really like Greece this year, even if I’m still pissed off at what they did to “Don’t forget the sun” in their dubiously axed national final last year. Her voice is beautiful, the music is uplifting and anthemic, the æsthetic is curious and a bit culty, but at least memorable. The one thing I don’t like? The lyrics, which sound like a bunch of motivational Instagram quote clichés loosely knitted together. Sing something actually meaningful, preferably in Greek.

San Marino: Lord, I’m not going to start because if I do, I shan’t stop. All I’ll say is that San Marino’s “troll nation” status is wearing thin for me. Unbelievably, hundreds of talented people came out in numbers last year willing to represent them, and yet they went with a song written supposedly in 5 minutes but probably in half that. I’d have invited Sara de Blue back instead to make up for the bizarre fiasco that was last year’s 1in360. And the automatic qualifiers:

France: If France’s national delegation aren’t rethinking their voting system after this year, then they ought to be. It’s the opposite of Sweden, where the juries really have the power and the televote is scattered – all you need is a frenzied following to overturn a low jury placement. I liked a great number of Destination Eurovision’s selection this year. I would have taken pretty much ány single one of them over the snivelling, bombastic, self-aggrandising drivel that is Roi. With regards to what to send in its place, I’m torn between the powerful “Là haut”; the adorably, quintessentially French “Allez leur dire”; or the energetic, indefatigable earworm that was “On cherche encore”.

Israel: Boy howdy, Israel sure want to do their level best to avoid fluking a 1979 and winning on home ground, eh? I heard there were many big names who sent songs in, though I’m unsure if any of them would have helped to make the stormy Kobi seem more sympathetic. I think I would have opted to let Ketreyah perform for the hosts instead.

Spain: After a great national final last year, I was really disappointed with the subpar quality of the so-called eurotemazos which were anything but. Miki’s song was the best of a bad lot and at least he didn’t have the hideously negative attitude some of the other people, who seemed surprised and aghast that the winner of a contest related to Eurovision could end up performing there. I’d try to give Miki a song that matched his energy with at least a bit more lyrical depth.

Join me in some days when I evaluate what I would change with SF2!

[oxnardsreblogs]

The Banana Hammock Part 1

Got an anonymous story submitted!

During the times they weren’t in space, Star Fox occupied an apartment in downtown Corneria city. Usually, life was quite uneventful. Fox was, as usual, working on his computer when ROB walked into the room. “Fox, General Pepper’s at the door.” His eyes twitched as he got out of his chair. Was this going to be: Another mission? Money? A VIP to protect? Money? Dire news about a faraway planet? Money? “Good morning, Mr. McCloud!” said the dog, in his full regalia, as he took off his hat and bowed. “I’d like to invite you to my birthday party tomorrow night. Would you mind coming?” “What?” cried Fox. He was happy he was going to a party, but tried to hide his disappointment as much as he could. “I mean, I’d really like to thank you!” The general handed him a card, which said that all Star Fox team members are invited and that he would appreciate it if they could come. After they chatted about what they were up to, the general gave him a farewell and a pat on the back. The crew discussed the matter in the living room, which looked quite more comfortable, but also more ordinary, than the Great Fox. “The Banana Hammock?” asked Slippy as he was viewing a broken graphics card through a magnifying glass. “It’s the name of the nightclub,” said Fox. Falco laughed heartily for awhile after pausing the video game he was playing. Then he asked “It’s not gonna be a strip club, is it?” before sipping his beer. Fox said, “The general seems pretty straight-laced. I don’t think it’s gonna be much more than trays of finger sandwiches and long speeches.” Krystal, who was sipping a cup of tea, asked, “Did it specify a dress code? I’d love an excuse to wear that dress I bought.” Fox replied, “No, but knowing who he is, I think we should dress up.” The Saturday night was cold and dreary. Peppy had a blazer and suit on, Krystal was in a pink cocktail dress, Slippy was in a yellow polo and khakis, and Fox and Falco had oxford shirts in green and orange, respectively, with both in dress slacks. There was the presumption that it would be a stuffy, formal, affair that they’d just go to do a favor for the general. The venue was a gray concrete building at the corner, five minutes away from their residence. The words “Banana Hammock” were in yellow, but not much else was there. All the windows were blacked out. What the Star Fox crew focused on was a small figure at the main entrance. As they entered the building: “Welcome! I suppose you’re here for the underwear party!” cried a small, squeaky voice. “I’m Oxnard Boulevard, and it’s a pleasure to meet you!” He was a small hamster in a trench coat, blowing in the wind. A small maroon curtain was visible from the door behind him. Fox blinked and said, “Am I mistaken about something?” “We’re here for General Pepper’s party!” Slippy cried. “Isn’t it here?” “Yes! Well, it’s the underwear party then! Right this way!” Oxnard said. Fox got out the invitation card and showed it to the hamster. Oxnard checked the lines and said, “Yup! Underwear party! I’ll take your clothes after you come in!” The others looked at one another in disbelief. Peppy said, “I’m a bit surprised that the general neglected to tell us that requirement.” “What the hell!” Fox cried. Then he bent down to Oxnard’s view and cried, “Look, this isn’t funny! It’s gotta be a joke!” The hamster merely moved the curtain, showing all kinds of guys and gals, a few so prudish that they have boxers on, but most in tight undies. Fox stared for a moment, and then looked back at his teammates with his jaw open. Returning to the hamster, he said, “Okay, then this isn’t General Pepp…” Fox gasped when Oxxy moved the entire curtain: The quite rotund General Pepper, on stage, in an itsy bitsy teenie weenie yellow polka-dot bikini, and nothing else (not even shoes!), singing from a microphone. After closing the curtain, hamster asked, “So, he *neglected* to tell you guys that this was an underwear party? Tisk tisk.” Falco slapped his face. Slippy looked like he saw a ghost. Fox was dead silent. Krystal blinked. Peppy, however, had his hand on his chin, thinking for a moment. Then he started unbuttoning his shirt. “Peppy!” the others cried. “Well, he’s been my longtime friend. I figured, why not support him?” Peppy then pulled down his pants. “Plus, it’ll be relaxing and we’ll get to unwind a bit.” Peppy was wearing a pair of maroon boxer-briefs, fairly ordinary, but still revealing that he was quite gifted down there. The old rabbit gave his clothes to Oxnard, who put them on the hanger. “I’m a bit surprised you’re going,” Fox said. “I never would have thought…” Suddenly the sound of a dress unzipping echoed through the room, and Krystal’s fell to the floor. “You know… this seems interesting!” cried Krystal, who had an ornery smile on her face. “I think I’m gonna try it too!” The hamster cooed as he gathered the fabric from the floor. Krystal’s pink bra and panties showed off her curves, the same ones Fox fell in love with. “Krys, oh my!” cried Fox. She winked at him, and this caused his mouth to drool. She shook her butt seductively at him, making him pop a boner. “Well, I guess the alcohol will be good. I’m sure the general’s gonna comp us!” Falco said as he undressed. “You too?!” cried Fox. The bird licked his lips as he said, “Even though it’s mostly fogeys, maybe there’ll be somebody my age to ogle!” Falco got out his sunglasses from his shirt and put them on before he unbuttoned it. They complemented his black briefs quite well. Falco wasn’t quite as gifted in his nether regions as Peppy was, but it was still obvious that he was on the bigger side. Fox and Slippy now felt a chasm - they were dressed, in front of the exit, while the other three, now in undies, were on the other side, at the curtain. Fox and Slippy could just go home and watch movies, but would he be able to abandon his other friends… and the girl he likes? Fox looked at Slippy, then at his teammates. He had to make a decision.

[perfectlyrose]

Up In Flames (9/10)

Summary: In the year since they decided to become a team, John Smith and Rose Tyler have made quite the names for themselves as Team TARDIS, bank robbers extraordinaire. Newspapers the world over run headlines about The Doctor and the Bad Wolf and their latest heists. They’re practically unstoppable.

Then their world spins to a halt with a phone call. Jack’s in trouble again and a formidable enemy from John’s past has emerged from the shadows to try and destroy the bank robbing couple once and for all. Will they be able to survive this new threat intact or will the life they’ve been building together go up in flames?

A sequel to Watch it Burn, a Nine/Rose bank robbers AU

Note: just the epilogue left to go! it’s already written and i’ll get it posted in the next few days!

Word Count: 2075

Rating: Teen

Read here: tumblr // ao3 // tsp // ff

By the time they reached Rose’s flat, John felt as though he was moving through molasses. Heightened emotions mixed with a lack of sleep and being on the wrong side of an adrenaline rush conspired with the ache of his injuries to weigh him down.

Nerves buzzed through him, though, keeping him alert. Rose hadn’t said a word since they left the Master’s stronghold and the silence was stretching between them, growing brittle.

Rose locked the door of the flat behind them and leaned back against the door, eyes closed.

She took a deep breath but didn’t open her eyes. “Go put on the kettle,” she said. “I’m going to go dig some paracetamol out of my bag. There should be a bag of frozen peas in the back of the freezer you can use as an icepack.”

“Rose,” he started, not entirely sure what he wanted to say but needing to say something.

She held up a hand and opened her eyes to pin him with an inscrutable look. “Not yet. Let’s get tea and medicine first then we can talk.”

She pushed off the door and made for her bedroom, leaving John standing in the middle of the sitting room staring after her. He swallowed hard then shuffled towards the kitchen to put the kettle on, as directed.

He was in the middle of pouring the boiling water over the teabags when Rose came in. She put the bottle of paracetamol on the counter next to the mugs and stepped around him to rummage in the freezer. She pulled out the bag of frozen peas she’d mentioned and handed it to him.

“Your ribs probably need ice and I don’t have proper ice packs.” Rose’s eyes flickered to his jaw and he figured he probably had a bruise rising there as well.

“Frozen peas are better than any ice pack,” he said. He didn’t question her knowing that his ribs were throbbing, she’d felt him flinch earlier when she’d hugged him. He pressed the bag against his side, wincing at the cold.

“Go sit, I’ll finish the tea.”

“I can help. Not a complete invalid, me.”

“Go, John.” She said. Her hands shook as she took out the teabags. “Please.”

John acquiesced with a nod he wasn’t entirely sure she saw. He took the bottle of paracetamol with him.

He sat on the same end of the sofa he’d occupied while he and Rose had devised a plan he hadn’t followed. He shook a couple of pills into his palm and popped them into his mouth, dryswallowing them. His eyes fell on the detritus of the plan still scattered across the coffee table as he put the bottle down.. He leaned closer, wincing as his ribs protested. This wasn’t the plan as he’d last seen it - it was the plan she’d hatched to save him.

Elements of her original plan had been cannibalized into this one and seeing everything laid out like this took his breath away. It was incredibly complex, contained numerous moving parts and required flawless timing.  It was amazing that she had come up it in so short a time and that it had worked so flawlessly.

“Had to come up with something on the fly since you went off on your own and got captured,” Rose said.

John jumped, not having heard her walk into the room. “It’s a brilliant plan.”

She shrugged and set down the two mugs of tea on top of the paper-laden table. She settled herself on the other end of the sofa from him and picked up her mug.

The two feet of space between them felt like a chasm.

“I’m sorry, Rose,” he said after the silence stretched too far for his frayed nerves. “I wasn’t thinking-”

“But you were thinking, that’s the problem,” Rose cut in, eyes flashing. “You thought up your own plan and didn’t say a word to me.”

“I was wrong,” John said, leaning towards her slightly. “I was scared and it made me stupid. Koschei always liked to destroy things just because someone else liked them and I was terrified that he would get his hands on you.”

“So you tried to cut me out.”

“I tried to keep you safe,” he amended. “I knew you wouldn’t like it and I still did it because I couldn’t handle the thought of you not being safe. Taking him down wasn’t worth it if he hurt you.” He took a deep breath, let it out. “If I could keep you safe, I would let everything else burn to do it.”

“You can’t wrap me up in cotton wool and tuck me away, John. I’m not fragile and you don’t to get to make these decisions for me,” Rose said.

“I know.”

“Do you? Or are you going to do this again if things get sticky? We keep each other safe by staying together, by having each other’s backs.”

“Rose, I am never going to do anything like this ever again,” he swore.

Rose closed her eyes, pressing her lips together as she tried to compose herself. She clutched  her almost empty tea mug tighter and brought her gaze up to meet his. “How can I know that you mean that, John? I didn’t think you would do it this time.”

Her voice wavered and John felt his heart crack.

“Do you know how worried I was when I found your note and realized what you had done? When I realized that the fact that you weren’t already back meant that the Master had you? I wasn’t mad at you, I was terrified that I’d lost you.”

She paused, letting it sink in. “Did you think about how you would feel if you found a note like that from me?”

He shook his head mutely, unable to speak through the lump in his throat. He didn’t have words even if he could speak.

“I didn’t think so.”

“I’m so sorry, Rose,” he rasped out.

“I know you are, but you made me feel like you don’t trust me. I can’t do this again, John. I can’t keep letting you cut me to pieces like this.”

John couldn’t stay apart from her, not when she was hurting and he at least had a hope of making it better. He closed the distance between them and carefully took the tea mug from her hands. He set it on the table and then took her hands in his.

“I do trust you, Rose. I’m sorry I made you feel like I don’t. I know how important trust is to you and I still trampled on it. What can I do to make this up to you?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure it’s something we can fix right away.”

He squeezed her hands. “I’m willing to put in however much time and effort is required, so long as you let me try. Just let me try to put things to rights with us. Please.”

Rose looked puzzled for a moment, then she smiled at him, a quavering thing packed full of emotions. “You daft man. You think that I’m going to send you packing? I’m not letting you out of my sight after the stunt you pulled.”

“Thank god for that,” he breathed, pulling her into a hug.

They melted into each other. John let out a breath, feeling like a weight had been taken off his chest.

“You know, I thought this conversation would involve a lot more yelling than it has,” he said, nuzzling into the side of her neck.

“I thought it would too,” she admitted, “but I am just so relieved that you’re alright. I was so worried and scared and I don’t think it’s all gone yet. I still feel hollow, somehow.”

“I’m here,” he reassured her. He pulled back so he could cup her face in her hands. “I’m here and you saved me and we’re going to work things out.”

“Best possible outcome,” she said with a smile. “I reserve the right to yell at you later, still, though.”

“You can yell at me all you want,” he promised.

She tilted forward and pressed her lips to his. He welcomed her in, letting her lead the kiss wherever she wanted. For his part, he just tried to pour everything he felt for her into it and hoped she understood.

She deserved more than just his hope, though. They’d had too many miscommunications already, he didn’t want this to be another on the list.

He eased back from the kiss.

“I love you,” he whispered into the small space between their lips.

Rose surged forward and kissed him hard. She pulled back to look at him, eyes shining. “I love you, too. Only took us almost getting ourselves killed to finally say it.”

“It’s a solid motivator,” he said with a grin.

“Let’s not wait for the next near-death experience to say it again.”

“Your wish, my command,” he said, leaning forward to gently brush his lips over hers. “I love you.” He kissed her again, longer this time but still achingly soft. “I love you.”

“I love you so much,” she whispered when she finally could speak again.

“I don’t know how I got so lucky,” he said. “Especially now that you know.”

The spectre of their pasts, dragged into the present by the Master, made her sit back far enough to look at him properly.

“Knowing what made you into who you are doesn’t change who you are,” Rose said. She reached up and cupped his cheek, thumb catching on his stubble as she brushed it across his skin in a soft caress. She was careful to avoid the bruise on his jaw. “And I love who you are. I love all of you, John, not just the good parts.”

He turned his face and pressed a kiss into her palm, too overcome to say anything.

“I’m sorry he dredged all of this up when you weren’t ready,” she said.

“I’m sorry he went digging around in your past too,” John replied, voice rough.

Rose shrugged but the lingering distress in her eyes belied the nonchalant gesture. “He barely scratched the surface of my past. Most of it’s not on any record, public or otherwise, so he wouldn’t be able to find it.”

“Still, it wasn’t his story to tell.”

“No, it wasn’t. But I do want to tell you, John. Just not tonight. I think we’ve had enough of the bad tonight. I vote we leave our pasts buried for just a bit longer.”

“Not too much longer,” John decided. “I think I’m ready to tell you about what I’ve done. No more secrets. They’re not doing us any good.”

“No more secrets,” she agreed. “And no more dishonesty between us.”

“No more.”

They sealed the promise with a kiss.

“Let’s go to bed,” Rose whispered. “I’m not quite tired enough to sleep on this couch but it’s a close thing. I was looking forward to makeup sex but it’s going to have to wait.”

John chuckled. “We’ll finish making up tomorrow and you can yell at me and then we can jump each other.”

“Hey, I’m supposed to be the one with the plans around here,” Rose teased.

“I will defer to any changes you wish to make.”

“Suck up.”

He raised his eyebrows and she flushed.

“I’ll meet you in the bedroom,” he said, standing up. He snagged the half defrosted bag of peas from where they’d ended up on the floor. “Gotta put these away.”

“I want a full account of your injuries and what happened to you later, too,” she said. The last few words she said were obscured by a yawn.

“Bed.”

“Hurry up and put the peas away and join me.”

Rose had already slipped into her pajama shirt when John entered the room. She crawled into bed and wriggled under the covers.

John joined her as soon as he’d stripped down to his pants. He turned off the lamp and curled around her, tucking her into his body.

His heart settled, at peace here in this quiet moment with the woman he loved.

The last thing Rose heard before drifting off to sleep was John quietly telling her again that he loved her.

He was still there when she woke up in the morning, the same words on his lips. She whispered them back before kissing him hello.