#the stuff with dawn and rory is more decided on

[ethanesimp]

THE OAK TREE // TWO E.T.

Pairing: Ethan Torchio x GN! Reader

Summary: Everyone at the Oakes Academy is aware of the rivalry that exists between two of the school’s best students, Ethan Torchio and Y/N L/N. What nobody knows is what a brilliant team they are when they’re at risk of their reputations being damaged and a killer’s on the loose.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death and murder, mentions of blood, mentions of death and descriptions of it, mention of suicide (pls read with caution, ily <3).

Masterlist // Taglist link in bio

CHAPTER ONE

A/N: Again, I apologize for the delay, life has been a lil bit crazy this past week. I also wanted to apologize for any possible typos because I’m working on a project but decided to take a break to finish this for you guys! I promise I’ll proofread this as soon as I get some time. Also, in the part where they’re texting, I recommend you check the texts on the Google Drive for context. Otherwise you might get a bit lost.

DON’T FORGET TO CHECK OUT TE AVAILABLE MATERIAL IN THE GOOGLE DRIVE WHICH YOU CAN FIND ON THE SERIES MASTERLIST

Taglist (strike means it won’t let me tag you):  @oro-e-diamanti @gretavanfleetlove @victoriadeangeliswifey @cheese-toastie-11 @selenophiliaxx @superchrystaldrug @petit-poussin @bidet-and-legolas @fallingforyou123 @ethaneskin @soft-boy-ethan @teenyweenynightghost @reputationdamiano @cantaraiilmionome @tabi-toast @queen-of-brokenhearts @geklutst-ei @juststalking @cruz-ata @ohtorchio @ethan-torchio-angelo @unitermoonshine @everythingisdefinitelynotfine @marriedwithmarktuan @its-afucking-mess @juststalking @goldenpeaxh​

LAST CHAPTER’S WINNING DECISION: They believe it is all real and go search for the body the finger might belong to. (The impact of this decision will be reflected next chapter).

Let the games begin. 

You had to read the last part once more, so consumed by the shock that barely any words had registered into your brain. Your hands were shaking as you held it closer to yourself. Maybe it was all part of the disbelief because you found yourself scanning the words over and over again until you had the first paragraph memorized. 

But then… then Ethan started laughing. 

Short, breathy laughs escaped past his lips, immediately followed by sharp inhales, as if he were desperate to get more air to reach his lungs. You brushed it off and went right back to reading the last few phrases that were on the very back, even said them under your breath to try and make them become real because everything seemed like nothing but a dream, no, a nightmare.

Then it slowly dawned on you after you finished reading the letter. All worry subsided and you had no doubt in your mind you would’ve started laughing too if you weren’t seeing red. Consumed by the sudden rage, you turned to Ethan and didn’t hesitate to tackle him into the ground.

In any normal instance, you wouldn’t have been able to do it, but you’d caught him off-guard, which was confirmed by the surprised yelp he let out as his back collided with the muddy floor and dry leaves crunched underneath his weight. You moved to straddle him the second you felt him shift beneath you, as if he wanted to get up. 

You looked at him for a split second. His face was illuminated by the soft glow of the red light. His distress was apparent. He was thrashing around to try and get you off him when you started hitting his chest over and over again. Your hits weren’t hard nor were they intended to cause any damage to him. In fact, he could have easily pushed you off him effortlessly if he wanted to, but Ethan didn’t even try. Instead, he let you continue hitting his chest.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you? You’re… a… fucking… psycho!” Each word was accompanied by another frustrated hit to his chest as tears slowly fell down your face and sobs rattled your body, “You were the only one who knew that. The only person in this goddamn school I ever—ever was stupid enough to tell it to. And you use it for one of your sick and twisted pranks? Fuck you. Fuck you!” 

Your head fell and rested on his chest as you kept on crying. However, your words seemed to pull him back to reality. Only after a few seconds of you speaking, Ethan had already rolled the two of you around until he was on top of you. 

You firmly held his stare as you tried to get him off you. For some strange reason, it sent shivers down your spine to see his eyes so full of fear. Ethan was always centered and glued firmly to the Earth. No matter the issue, he was always capable of keeping his cool, but now was far from being the case. His voice trembled as he tried to speak up, “Shut up Y/N! You’ve got no right to blame me for something that is clearly your doing. I have no fucking clue what your stupid letter said but mine said something that has me convinced it was you!”

His accusation was followed by him shoving his crumpled up letter into your face. You had to squint in order to see it better with only the aid of the red light. When you read the words placed at the very bottom, your eyes went wide and immediately looked for his in a desperate attempt to convince him it wasn’t you, but he had his head turned away. You firmly grabbed him by the collar of his hoodie so he’d look into your eyes, “I-I didn’t. Ethan I don’t like you one bit but I’d never. Not this.”

Ethan scoffed and shook his head. He got off you and turned around so his back was facing you, “You know what? I don’t give a shit what you did or didn’t do. I’m going to wash this disgusting stuff off me and report this in the morning.”

“What the hell? Are you crazy? Ethan, we're in the middle of a crime scene. We cannot leave it like this. I mean, look at you! You’re covered in blood because, let me refresh your mind, you fell into a fucking puddle of blood and found a finger!” You flailed your arms around furiously at his stupidity and started followed him the moment he started walking away, “What if this is real?”

He stopped dead in his tracks and turned to look at you, “What is real? A threat that looks like it was written by a thirteen-year-old who just finished reading The Analyst? And the blood… it belongs to an animal for all I care,” He didn’t seem an ounce convinced by the way he took a second to come up with an excuse, and he couldn’t even look you in the eyes, “Besides, what do you want us to say, huh? Oh yeah, sorry. We’re out past curfew because of reasons we can’t tell you and we casually found a disembodied finger lying in a pool of blood. Ah! And I almost forgot the most important detail. We’re being threatened with things that are not only good enough to get us expelled but also get us thrown in jail. But everything is fantastic.”

You rolled your eyes, “Fine, do whatever the hell you please.”

Ethan nodded nonchalantly and walked away from you. A long and deep sigh escaped your lips at his stubbornness. You wanted to scream out in frustration at how stupid he was being, but decided it was pointless to stay behind, just in case someone arrived and found you standing there, with your clothes filled with blood. 

——— ☆ • ♧ • • ♧ • ☆ ———

When you arrived back at the dorms, the first thing you did was take a hot shower as you tried to assimilate everything that had happened. Despite the water being so hot it almost burnt your skin, you still spent the whole time shivering and hugging your arms to your body. 

You had washed the blood off the hoodie in one of the sinks and still threw it in the washing machine afterwards. You didn’t know what was going on and part of you was convinced you didn’t want to know. Either way, you weren’t going to risk being roped into a crime investigation as a suspect.

Afterwards, you collapsed into bed. Your whole body was aching and, if it weren’t for the fact that your phone had exploded with notifications after you connected it, you would’ve fallen asleep. You lazily felt around the small bedside table for your phone and picked it up. Most notifications were just memes Will kept sending to the group chat you had. However, you’d also received a message from Ethan.

Upon reading the first few words, you already felt the urge to throw the phone out the window. He was being annoying, not like that was a new thing at all. You responded to the text nonetheless and left the phone back on the bedside table. You turned around in your bed to try and find a spot that was comfortable and cuddled deeper into the sheets. Then, just when you were about to close your eyes, the phone vibrated again. You groaned and picked it up once more. After reading those texts, you were unable to sleep all night.

——— 

You spent the great majority of the night crying and shivering despite being covered by layers and layers of warm blankets. Those few hours before your alarm sounded extended into what seemed like an eternity and you didn’t want to leave the room, afraid you’d find something like what you’d just seen at the oak tree. 

You only managed to sleep for about half an hour before your alarm went off at exactly six AM. Any other day, you would’ve snuggled back into bed for a little longer, but on that particular day, you’d jumped out of bed and hadn’t wasted a second before getting ready. You’d run out of the building to meet your friends at the dining hall, where you were currently at.

Damiano, Rory, Vic, and Will were already sitting at your usual table in front of the large window when you arrived. The curly-haired boy was practicing for a presentation while your three friends listened and made a few comments here and there on things they thought he should change. 

“Good morning everyone,” You murmured, then took a seat in between Damiano and Will, who turned to look at you and frowned, “Are you feeling okay, Y/N?” You nodded and put on the best smile you could manage. Then you stole one of the berries from his plate even though you weren’t hungry at all. 

You turned to look at Rory and Damiano, “Hey Ro, has the new phone you ordered arrived yet?” You questioned. After your conversation with Ethan the previous night, you needed to make sure it wasn’t them who had sent the text. Just the thought alone made you shudder in disgust and fear, but you just took a deep breath in and kept a soft smile on your face as your best friend shook their head.

“Funny that you ask that because yesterday I got an email from the store saying the delivery was going to take longer than expected because of the weather issues, so I gotta survive with this piece of crap for a few more days,” They sighed and placed the cracked phone on the table. You wanted to stop holding back the tears right then and there. Rory’s words were the confirmation that someone else had sent the text and you doubted it was Emilia. As much as you didn’t want to, with each passing second you started to believe the threat was true and that someone had died or was terribly hurt somewhere, and you needed to find them before it was too late to save them. 

Then you remembered another one of Ethan’s texts and had to resist the urge to get up and go search for him because you needed to talk to him as soon as possible. Instead, you distracted yourself by listening to Will’s presentation practice.

You were close to nodding off at some point as he kept on speaking, “Back in earlier civilizations, it was believed that any type of illness was caused by demons and—Hey, Y/N!” You hummed softly as Will called your name. He poked you on the rib and you swatted his hand away, “Are you sure you’re alright? You look terrible.”

“Thank you,” You mumbled sarcastically, “I’m doing fine. I just stayed up working on a project and barely got a wink of sleep,” You let your head rest on Damiano’s shoulder and yawned.

“I wish I were that productive,” Victoria said as she played around with her food. Everyone had insisted on her eating at least a few bites even if she was still sick, “I never do shit.”

Thomas piped into the conversation, catching everyone by surprise as he took a seat next to Victoria, “To be fair, Y/N always complains about feeling half-dead from lack of sleep. I’ll never be crazy enough to sacrifice my sleep for a stupid assignment.”

“Yeah, and that’s why you’re one project away from failing Year 12,” Victoria laughed and Thomas rolled his eyes, “The other day I put him in charge of finishing this essay thing for philosophy and by the time I went back to check on him, he was already asleep. I honestly still wonder how we’re at this school. I would’ve thrown us out a long time ago.”

“Look who’s decided to join us today!” Damiano exclaimed with a large smile on his face as Emilia and Ethan took a seat right in front of you. It was an unusual occurrence for him to eat with you because, well, you were there and he couldn’t shut his mouth for half an hour while you ate, which usually ended in an argument that made the whole table annoyed. 

You frowned at his appearance. He was struggling to keep his dark eyes open and his hand wouldn’t stop shaking. It was very apparent that he hadn’t slept much either from the bags under his eyes and his slow steps. Ethan was almost like a zombie. 

He shook his head the moment his eyes met yours and your shoulders slumped. It hadn’t been Emilia either. You got up from your seat abruptly and walked away from the table without an explanation. You desperately needed a breath of fresh air before you went insane. So with quick steps, you moved down the hall until you reached one of the open windows next to a couch. You let yourself fall onto the couch and tightly shut your eyes as you breathed the fresh air in.

“You seriously need to calm down. Otherwise everyone will start to notice just how suspicious you’re acting,” You sighed at the sound of Ethan’s irritating voice and up straight on the couch. You rubbed your eyes with the back of your hands and looked up at him with an annoyed expression.

“You cannot ask me to calm down after what we saw last night. When will it get into your thick skull that whatever this shit is, it’s real. Those threats were real and if we don’t do something we’re both going to end up in jail, or worse, people are going to die. We don’t know who this psycho is nor what they’re capable of doing. We need to do something now before it’s too late,” The words rushed out of your mouth desperately. The urgency in your tone and your voice quivering as you spoke made his face fall. It wasn’t often that he took you seriously, but by the look in his eyes, you could tell he was just as scared as you were and that was enough to make him shut up and listen to all you had to say.

“Shit Y/N, can you lower your voice? We have no clue at all who could ev—” Before he could even finish the whole sentence, the Head Professor cleared her throat. But your heads snapped in her direction and you gulped in fear at the thought of her overhearing the conversation.

Your heart fell to your stomach the moment she spoke, “Just the two I was looking for. I need you in my office right now.”

Your eyes went wide as you turned to look at Ethan, who already had his head turned in your direction. He nudged his head in the professor’s direction and you both followed her as she walked to her office but stayed a few steps behind.

“This is it, we’re going to jail,” You mumbled loud enough so only Ethan could hear. He hushed you and pulled you along when you stopped walking. People were looking at you as you passed by and that only made you feel worse. You loosened the tie around your neck and gulped.

“We are not going to jail unless you don’t pull it together. Now breathe and keep on walking. I’m not your fucking babysitter,” He whisper-yelled and quickened his pace. You sighed and did the same thing. It surely couldn’t be that bad, could it? You were probably just overreacting and the events of the night before had nothing to do with this impromptu meeting. 

You kept those thoughts in mind as the professor opened the door to the small office and you took a seat on one of the two squeaky chairs. The room smelled clean in a comforting way and you let your shoulders relax as you played with your fingers nervously and looked around the place. 

Her office had always been your favorite out of all the professors’. The place was always warm and during the mornings, you could hear coffee brewing in her old coffee machine in the corner of the room. There were books scattered everywhere and piled in a way that didn’t look messy but inviting. During your first weeks at the academy, when you still hadn’t made any friends, you’d go into her office and read while you sat curled up on the couch and enjoyed the warm and calm atmosphere of the place.

Things used to be so much easier back then and you had no clue how things could’ve changed so fast. Back then your relationship with Ethan was decent and you had no trouble with anyone or anything, now you were being threatened into being framed for murder and being sent to jail.

“You totally forgot about our meeting today, didn’t you?” She asked calmly as she poured coffee into one of her cups, filling the room with the delicious and strong scent. The professor pushed her long dark hair out of her face and straightened out her uniform before sitting down opposite to you, “You looked quite shocked. I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything important.”

Ethan sat there, speechless, just like you. But then realization hit you and you realized you were just being paranoid and stupid. She’d told you about this meeting weeks in advance. It was supposed to have something to do with your chance to get the sought-after 100% scholarship to study your career at The Oakes. 

“Nothing important whatsoever,” You replied quickly and sat up straight as you placed both hands on your lap. Ethan copied your actions and tied up his long hair with the black elastic that had been on his wrist.

Your eyes followed the professor as she dumped a small spoonful of sugar and mixed it around with the dark liquid. You couldn’t help but notice her hand shaking as she poured the milk and even spilled a bit of it down the side of the cup. 

She cursed under her breath and apologized as she got up to search for a napkin. With furrowed eyebrows, you shared a look with Ethan, who shrugged. 

“I apologize. I’m afraid I’m quite distracted today, but let’s continue. Shall we?” She smiled sweetly and opened up one of the folders on her desk as she sat back down. She grabbed two papers from inside and placed one in front of each of you. 

You picked it up and examined its content. It seemed to be some sort of permission slip, “So, as I’m sure you both know, our academy offers a program for all our brightest students that gives them the opportunity to continue their college studies with everything paid. You two are the people with the highest grades amongst the whole generation. The semester is—.”

Her words were interrupted by a few quick knocks on the door before a professor pushed it wide open. He couldn’t stop fidgeting with his hands and playing around with his tie as he spoke, “The council wants to have a meeting, professor.”

“I cannot do it right now, I’m—”

“They want to have it now.” 

The professor turned to the two of you nervously and laughed awkwardly. She stood up from the chair after quickly pushing it back, “I’ll see you another day, okay? Meanwhile, please send a scan of that permission slip to your parents and have them sign it, as soon as possible.” 

Once both professors were out of sight and had closed the door, leaving the two of you alone, Ethan spoke, “Something’s wrong.”

“No shit. Neither one could stop shaking. I say we go and try to listen to what the council members are saying,” You suggested and stood up, but he grabbed your arm and pulled you to sit back down.

“We need to go back to the oak tree first. Y/N, if this is all real and there’s something going on, we need to find that body before they do,” He said firmly. Both his tone and stare were serious and you could tell that there was no way in hell he’d take no for an answer. Instead of arguing, you agreed and walked out of the office right behind him, but then you paused as his words registered into your brain, “Why do we have to find it before them?”

He didn’t stop walking to respond, so with a groan you started to walk faster until you were right next to him, “You weren’t even attending the school when it happened,” Ethan began to talk under his breath, so quietly you could barely make out the words he was trying to say, “It was years ago so I cannot remember exactly how the story went. You can ask Thomas though, he has better memory than I do,”

“Either way, there was this boy who’d just gotten into college and during the secret society’s initiation, he was told to climb the highest tower at that campus but he slipped and fell like ten stories. Like I said, it was a secret society that neither the public nor the parents knew about. If the story of what had really happened got out it’d ruin the school and some of the most important students would’ve been sent to jail, so they twisted it to look like a suicide and got away with it. The only reason we know about it is because one of Will’s cousins, the duke, was involved in it all and Will told us all about it.”

“I refuse to believe that’s true. C’mon, it’s Will,” You laughed, “The same guy who convinced everyone in class that your family secretly ran part of the Italian mafia.”

Ethan only shrugged and stopped walking to knock on the door of the greenhouse. You’d left yours at your dorm that morning from how distracted you were, so you had to wait for Mr. Murphy to open up and let you through.

When he finally opened the door, his eyebrows shot up in surprise as he looked at the two of you in confusion, “What in God’s name has happened to get you two in the same place without fighting?” He mocked. You rolled your eyes and shook your head as a smile appeared on your face.

“I assure you, we can both be perfectly civil. Besides, it’s for a homework we need to do. And believe me it’s the last thing I want to be doing,” You lied and walked into the greenhouse with Ethan following behind, “Anyways, we’re gonna go to the lake to get some water and—”

“I’m afraid you cannot go out there,” He interrupted. You frowned at his words and tilted your head to the side.

“Why? Did something happen?”

“Nothing you should care about, kids. Just go to class, yeah? There’s someone coming and if you want to stay out of trouble you better leave before they arrive.”

YOU CAN VOTE ON THIS CHAPTER’S POLL RIGHT HERE. THIS POLL CLOSES AT 12:30 PM CDT ON TUESDAY.

[pkmn-nextgenadventures]

As many of any of your kids as you want for #1 >:3

01. What does your character’s name mean? Did you pick it for the symbolism, or did you just like the way it sounded?

For the sake of brevity I’ll just do the main 10 kids for this ask (i.e. the ones who actually have profiles up). That said, I am a huge etymology nerd and it’s something I think about a lot when coming up with most character names, especially in a universe like Pokémon where canon characters often have names which are symbolic in some way or relate back to their family/role/profession! You’ll probably notice more stuff like this on the kids’ profiles as I update them and (someday) add more characters.

Fern: From the plant of the same name, mirroring how Ash’s name also comes from a kind of tree. I always wanted her to have some sort of name relating back to nature to reflect the fact that she’s an outdoorsy kind of person, but I did cycle through a few early in this AU’s development before I found one that stuck.

Rory: Anglicised form of the Gaelic Ruairí/Ruairidh, meaning ‘red (headed) king.’ Similar to Fern, I just went for something with a similar meaning to his dad (Red)’s name - colour and/or nature related names are generally a theme among the Kanto protags’ kids. That said, Rory was originally conceptualised as a Red/Yellow kid, so if Red/Green had been endgame from the outset perhaps he’d have been named something else!

Olivia: From the Latin oliva, meaning ‘olive’ or ‘olive tree’. Along similar lines to Fern, I wanted her to have some sort of botanical name to reflect her love of plants. Olivia is one of the characters I really struggled to decide on a name for to begin with, so she went through quite a few name changes in the beginning (though otherwise she’s actually stayed pretty much the same personality/design wise, unlike some other kids).

Isabelle: This is one I actually did choose pretty much entirely based on aesthetics over meaning since I just think it’s a nice name! But in-universe, she’s named after Paul’s late mother Isabella (Bella for short), since they look very similar. Originally her name was Violet, but I changed it after fleshing out her family’s backstory more and also because there’s already a canon pokeani character with that name. I do still like the name Violet, so I decided fairly recently it can just be her middle name instead!

Lena: Her full name, Alena, is a Slavic form of ‘Helen’, which is thought to be derived from the Greek for either ‘torch’, ‘light’ (following the theme of the DPPt protags’ names, since she’s kind of the next gen Sinnoh protag) or ‘moon’ (linking back to the etymology of Cynthia’s name and her adopted hometown of Celestic). This is something I found out long after I named her, but it’s also a type of flowering plant native to Hawaii, which is a fun coincidence since I envision her becoming a professor someday, and plot-wise Alola is a place that’s important to her character development!

Osbert: Medieval name incorporating the Old English for ‘god’ and ‘bright’. This has literally nothing to do with his character development or symbolism and everything to do with the fact that I came across the name by chance in a book I was reading and was like “haha funny bert name to match Hilbert” since someone from Unova had to carry the dorky protag name torch. His beta name was Oleander (Ollie for short), but similar to Isabelle I just made that his middle name after it got retconned since I still have a soft spot for it.

Harper: From harp, since her mother Lyra’s name is derived from a similar musical instrument (lyre). Not much more to this one, although her name was originally Sylvia until I realised that sounded too much like Silver’s name 😅

Tristan: Most likely derived from the Celtic Drustan (‘noise’, ‘tumult’), and probably also influenced by the Old French triste (‘sad’). While I went with Tristan purely because I just like the name and thought it was the sort of thing Dawn and Paul would name their kid, the meaning behind it does actually suit him just by coincidence! As a sidenote, his middle name is Reginald, after his Uncle Reggie :’)

Maddie: ‘Madeleine’ is a French form of Magdalene, which has absolutely nothing to do with her as a character - this is just another one I thought was a nice name. However, there is a type of cake called a petite madeleine, which does fit with the fact that Maddie is exactly the sort of girl to spend all her money in high-end pastry shops.

Alyssa: After the alyssum flower, partly because I am not immune to the trap of wanting to name at least one Drew kid after a flower and also just because I always felt like it suited her! Hilariously, the etymology for the plant itself apparently comes from the Greek for ‘without rabies’ (reflecting its early medicinal use). Good for her.

Question from this list - feel free to send in more!

[artificialqueens]

Down with the Recipe, Bake from the Heart, 10/10 (Taywhora) - Juno

Chapter Summary: The three finalists are just three challenges away from the end of the Bake Off, and the reunion with their fellow competitors, families, and friends at the finale garden party. The Signature and Technicals will be the hardest yet, and the Showstopper will ensure the three finalists bare a slice of their hearts to the country. But who will take the winning cake stand?

A/N: I have been utterly blown away by the support and comments I’ve had for this fic on tumblr and AO3! Huge big thank you to everyone who has cheered me on with this. For ease, the finale and epilogue are in one here (but are split on AO3). I hope to be back soon with some short stuff for rare pair challenge! xo Juno

WEEK 10: GRAND FINALE

Aurora felt like she didn’t sleep all week back in Worksop, and now, the night before she had to take the train down south to film the grand finale, the very idea seemed virtually impossible. Her body and her mind tossed and turned, every time she closed her eyes she saw cakes and breads and pastries and all sorts of things she was sure she’d never have any desire to eat again.

She had no time to think about Tayce, but Tayce had found her way in through the cracks in her mind while she had practised. Gone from the tent, but not gone from her life. And her last act in the tent had been to give Aurora five words that had rung like a melody in her head ever since.

You can win this, bitch.

She reached for her phone in the darkness, and it said it was half past one in the morning. She’d have to get up in three hours to get ready, before she headed out for the train. Lawrence would already be on the sleeper train, and Veronica was probably getting up at around the same time. But as she opened their own three-way chat, she found both Lawrence and Veronica were also messaging at silly time in the morning.

They weren’t sleeping either. Aurora understood why now.

Sure, she’d see Tayce again this weekend at the grand finale garden party. But her departure still replayed in her head.

Why did I end up this reliant on her anyway? I can bake without her. I’ve done it for years!

But this wasn’t just baking. It wasBake Off. It was surreal, intangible. It defied gravity. How many times had Aurora had to anchor herself to Tayce to keep herself from floating away?

Her phone came up with a notification from Lawrence.

Lawrence:why tf ru awake

The irony of Lawrence’s message was not lost on Aurora.

Aurora:your meant to be on the sleeper train Aurora: sleeper Aurora: clue is in the name Lawrence: yh but its stopped Lawrence: we’re in carlisle  Aurora: what’s it like in Carlisle x Lawrence: dark

Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but it tickled her far more than it should, and she found herself laughing far too hard at the message.

Aurora: how much ru lookin forward to this bein over now x Lawrence: oh loads babes Lawrence: cant wait to bring that cake stand to Glasgow x Veronica:keep dreaming Lawrence  Aurora: unlikely lol x

On second thoughts, the teasing and the laughter were a balm for her worried mind right now, and Aurora found she was laughing more than she had all week at their conversation.

Sleep is overrated anyway.

——

The tent looked huge and imposing, but Aurora was still not at the front to her relief. If Lawrence had gone home last week - not that Aurora had ever expected her to - Aurora thought she would have squirmed at the front under the gaze of the judges. Especially now, with just the three of them left, their voices echoing like a vast cave, all of their heartbeats just sounding amplified as they hammered against their ribs.

It’s the finale. I made it.

Aurora glanced at the two badges she’d won. The same amount as Lawrence, with Veronica having one to her name. But as they’d seen from previous series, the amount of times someone had won Star Baker was not an indicator as to who would win the whole thing. But it certainly gave both her and Lawrence a minor edge, and both of them a swell in their chests.

Everything felt new and fresh. Lawrence had re-dyed her hair, blue this time, the vibrant colour almost a distraction in itself. Veronica had new black nails which she tapped on the workbench, and her roots had been redone. Aurora hadn’t thought to do any of that, so she was pleased to still be at the back.

Her turquoise KitchenAid still glistened like new, the workbench sparkled with the glassy varnish, and the cupboards and shelves around in their pastel colours made the summer air feel all the more fresh and clean. She glanced over at Veronica, her own green KitchenAid in the same state, and Lawrence’s Cadbury purple one too.

I wonder if I can pinch the KitchenAid after filming without the crew noticing.

——

Signature: 12 iced doughnuts - 6 ring, 6 filled

If there was one thing Aurora hated doing, it was piping filling into something as fiddly as a doughnut. They’d have to cool down, be hollowed, and then filled, a really fiddly process.

It was the hardest day in the tent by far. The morning was rainy, light rain that almost felt like it wasn’t there, and the air was sticky and humid, pushing the temperature in the tent up, especially with the deep fat fryers they’d been provided for the doughnuts.

Aurora chewed her lip so hard that it bled, piping mixture, watching them all closely in the deep fat fryer, filling up her jam piping bag and spinning it so tightly that it threatened to burst and cover her in sticky apricot jam.

In front of her, Lawrence groaned a few times as she battled against the heat and the doughnuts as they spat in the fryer, while Veronica was wringing her hands at the dough as it came out of her own fryer.

“Too soft,” she muttered, followed by “God, too hard,” at the next batch.

By the time judging came, with Prue back from her illness this week, Aurora had almost forgotten what she’d flavoured them with, but she wasn’t alone. Across from her, Veronica stuttered as she spoke about her doughnuts, while Lawrence just pushed her hair back at the question.

“Don’t know,” she’d mused to the judges, some of the old humour returning to her voice. “Started making them, had a breakdown, and here they are. Enjoy!”

The judges all laughed, but Aurora caught a glint in Lawrence’s eye, and the same thought passed between them both.

It’s not a lie!

All of them had similar critiques. Unanimously told they had good flavours, good bakes, and good designs, it was becoming virtually impossible to differentiate between them. How were they going to decide a winner?

“How are they going to do this?” Veronica said aloud to the room, as they sat in Norton Hall (not Carr Hall, Aurora said to herself) waiting for the Technical challenge to begin.

“Not a fucking clue.” Lawrence sighed.

“Are any of you thinking about today though?” Aurora asked. “Are you just thinking about the Showstopper tomorrow too?”

Lawrence and Veronica both nodded slowly, none of them looking at each other.

“Are you all … doing the same thing as I am?”

Lawrence and Veronica just continued nodding.

None of them even needed to say a word. They all knew.

——

Technical: Victoria Sponge (no recipe)

Technical sounded daunting at first glance, but Aurora tried to reason with her worried mind. Baking a Vicky sponge from scratch with no instructions? Please. Aurora baked a Vicky sponge twice a month for the local shelter. She could probably have done it in her sleep.

But the pressure cooker of the tent just made everything go up in smoke in her brain.

Her nan’s voice rang in her head for the proportions that she used to use. Two, two, two, and two eggs. But two what? Two cake tins? Two bowls? Two competitors? No, two pounds. When would her nan come into the new millennium and learn that no one talked about measurements in pounds and ounces any more?

“Lawrence?” She leaned forward.

“Alright, babes?”

“How much is two pounds in grams again?”

Lawrence was frowning. “What?”

“Please - just tell me. I know it’s a competition and all -“

“I’m not trying to stitch you up hen, I genuinely don’t know, I don’t use pounds and ounces because I entered the twenty-first century a while back.” Lawrence shook her head, holding her hands up in surrender. “What do you need it for anyway?”

“Recipe,” Aurora said, her already-hammering heart feeling like it could break her ribs.

“What’s up, love?” That was Veronica’s voice. Aurora closed her eyes, wracking her brain, but Lawrence’s voice pierced the gloom.

“How much is a pound in grams, d’you know?”

“Yeah,” came Veronica’s in response, “a pound is about four hundred and fifty grams. Y’know, you can also go the other way. A kilo is two point two pounds. What do you need that for, yours is already whisking?”

“No, Rory’s having a meltdown, and not with the butter.”

Jesus Dawn French Christ, Lawrence.

A hand met her shoulder, and Aurora was astonished to see Veronica at her side.

“You alright, love?”

She held her gaze for a long time, unflinching, but her eyes were softer than ever, and her hand was surprisingly warm and calming as she rubbed Aurora’s shoulder.

“Yeah. Just - this,” Aurora waved her hands, encompassing the whole tent. Maybe that was absurd to an outside observer, but Veronica knew. Veronica understood.

“I looked at your instagram,” Veronica said quietly, “and I know you bake cakes loads, so I know you can knock this one right out of the park, alright? And you know that too. I mean, I can’t remember a thing about making jam now! And I’m probably going overboard with my sugar. But hey, it’s the finale! I can’t be sent home now!”

Veronica shrugged, her face split in a grin that bordered on maniacal, and Aurora had to admit that she had a point. She took a shaky inhale, then let it out.

“Look, I know you miss Tayce,” Veronica dropped her voice even lower, her hand squeezing her shoulder now, “because I’ve missed Tia since alt week. And we know Lawrence is missing Ellie, even though she’d probably rather move to London and take up Morris dancing than admit that.”

“You say that, but I can do that accent, I’ve watched Eastenders,” Lawrence called over her shoulder. “And I won’t be any worse than Dick Van Dyke.”

“We’re all missing everyone,” Veronica said, and Aurora knew she didn’t mean everyone, “but you don’t need Tayce to be able to bake. You can do it on your own. You’ve done it loads before this show, and you’ll do it again!”

“I can’t,” Aurora heard her fear contradict her in a whisper.

“You can,” Veronica said firmly, her gaze now stern. “You can do this.”

Aurora took a deep breath, held for four, and let it out for five.

“I can.”

“That’s it, love,” Veronica said, nodding and starting to walk away.

——

“Here’s to the last time we’re here as a three,” Aurora said, raising her glass along with Lawrence and Veronica. One of the producers had brought in a bottle of champagne, and even though Aurora didn’t really like the bubbles very much - they tickled her nose - she accepted the glass that was poured for her.

“How much does everyone remember about today?” Veronica asked, her arms and legs crossed on the sofa. “Because I can’t remember a bloody thing. I can’t even remember what the judges said about that piece of crap that my Vicky sponge turned out to be. Did I come last?”

“Yeah,” Aurora nodded. “Was nothing in it, though. We were all shit.”

“Speak for yourselves,” Lawrence muttered, a hint of her old mischievous glint back in her eye.

“And tomorrow we’re recording the finale,” Aurora sighed, swirling the champagne. “Five hours in a tent, followed by half an hour break, followed by presenting the Showstoppers, followed by the garden party, followed by our speeches. And then filming three endings. Where one of us wins each time.”

“It’s gonna be worth it by the end, though,” Veronica said brightly.

“Who’s gonna come from your family, Lawrence?” Aurora asked.

“My parents, my cousin Chloe, and my best pal Stinky Pete.” Lawrence grinned. “Can’t wait to see them. And who have you two got?”

“Uhm,” Aurora frowned. “I know Blake’s coming, and my nan, but I thought you could only invite two people?”

“Mine said four,” Lawrence replied. “God, you really can’t count, can you?”

“What about you?” Aurora asked, motioning to Veronica with her glass.

“My mum’s coming and my brother.” She twitched her shoulders. “None of my friends could get time off. Shame, really.”

Aurora nodded, sipping her champagne, trying to hold off on sneezing through the bubbles. “And the others.”

“Can’t wait,” Veronica smiled her usual pinched, nervous smile, her leg jogging. “I’ve missed them all. Tia especially, but I’ve missed them all. I wonder who they all think will win?”

“And Ellie still owes me a tenner for that Puff the Magic Dragon shit that she thought Tayce’s biccies were,” Lawrence mused.

Aurora pursed her lips at Tayce’s name, but pushed it to the back of her mind. What mattered now was not Tayce, but the fact that her eyes were drooping after not having slept the previous night, and the champagne making her head throb.

“Early one?” Veronica’s sigh must have read been a telepathic projection, because they all stood in unison and trailed each other up the stairs to their respective rooms, ready to pass out and begin everything again in the morning.

——

Showstopper: A picnic for a fellow contestant - to include one celebration cake, 12 savoury pastries, and 12 patisserie.

When the three of them had seen the Showstopper for the weekend, right after Tayce’s elimination, they’d all nodded knowingly to each other.

This one has been just …made for us all.

It was obvious. It was blatantly obvious that everything that had happened had been noticed by the producers, and the staff, and everyone with eyes and without them too, that all three of the finalists were missing someone.

Veronica was setting her alarms up, all five of them as usual, before dragging her ingredients from the bag she kept. On her workbench, she’d gently placed a photo Tia had taken of some landscape or other. Lawrence had laid all her ingredients out on a baby pink tablecloth that complimented the purple of her own KitchenAid.

Aurora only had one thing to remind her of Tayce. She’d gone into a charity shop in the week with Blake, looking for something he’d seen in the window, and had found something that Blake had gasped at.

“It’s a Welsh love spoon!” He’d thrust the small wooden spoon into Aurora’s hand, and she’d turned it over and over silently in her fingers, marvelling at the twisting pattern on the handle, curling into a heart shape at the top.

“That’s fate, that is,” Blake had nodded. “You’ve got to get that.”

Aurora set the spoon now on the counter top, resting against her own KitchenAid for now, as she ran back through the timings again in her head, and what she was planning.

The twelve savoury pastries were easy. Puff pastry sausage rolls with added baked beans and cheese. Even if Prue didn’t like baked beans, that was all Tayce seemed to be eating every breakfast time.

Screw what Prue likes. This isn’t for her.

The cake? It had taken some thought. Black Forest gateau with a mirror glaze to top it off, not something she knew if Tayce liked, but something that felt sophisticated and stylish. And the deep purple of the blackberries was a colour that Tayce loved.

The patisserie was the hardest one, but she’d settled on millefeuille, similar to some that she made before for her nan’s seventy-fifth birthday, delicate and decorative, fragile-looking but built to stand tall. Not to mention they tasted so good that the world ceased to exist when someone bit into one.

“It’s like they’re all back here, isn’t it?”

Veronica’s voice was quiet, but happy. Lawrence’s intake of breath was shaky, but she didn’t turn to face her, focusing on her bake.

“You’ve got a tin of baked beans on your workbench, Aurora, it’s so surreal! And Lawrence, you’ve got so much pink on your workbench today.” Veronica motioned to the pink fondant she’d made, pink icing, pink glaze, pink cake filling. Pink and white marshmallows, pink jam … every shade of pink imaginable. Lawrence just gave a snort and shook her head.

It was meant to be the hardest challenge yet, but it definitely didn’t feel that way. The tent heated up with the warm sunshine outside and the combination of ovens and bakers and inside, but as soon as nerves started manifesting, the three of them were all there to diffuse them all for each other.

When Lawrence started dropping her utensils, both Aurora and Veronica were at her side in an instant to grab her hands and calm her down before she started panicking. When Veronica clung to the edge of her workbench, motionless, Lawrence and Aurora were both there beside her to talk her down.

But when the last ten minutes were called …

Shit.

Aurora felt cold fear creep back up her chest. She still had the millefeuille to assemble. She’d done three, but nine remained. And the puff pastry had to come out of the oven. And the glaze needed to be poured over the cake for it to set into a mirror in time -

“Aurora?” That was Lawrence, with Veronica on her heels. “You’re making a squeaky whiny noise like a balloon letting out air. What d’you need?”

“But - ten minutes - your own bakes -“

As Aurora flapped, the other two simply ran round her side and started doing it without needing her to tell them. Soon all her pastries were on the tray, and the cake was out the fridge, the glaze ready to go.

“You pipe, I’ll load,” Veronica muttered, and she did just that, while Lawrence put the cake onto the metal tray, jogging back from her own workbench where she’d had to finish off one of her own patisseries, and as Aurora finished piping the last millefeuille …

“Bakers! You have five minutes on your final Showstopper!”

They were all pulling out the stops, dashing between all three of their benches. Veronica was throwing gold leaf around like it was confetti. Lawrence was covered in icing sugar, the sweet scent filling the air. Aurora poured the deep purple onto the cake, praying to the Monster gods that it would set into a mirror glaze in time …

“Time is up! The final Showstopper has finished! Congratulations, bakers!”

The whole world seemed to crumble at Noel’s words.

Aurora looked at the mountain of food she’d produced, everything that reminded her of Tayce, and she knew then that serving this would mean serving a slice of her heart to the nation. And that was the plan all along.

Everything in her body ached, her bones were hollow, her breathing felt too loud alongside the deafening roar of blood in her ears. But as she leaned on the workbench, surveying the amount of work she’d done, she felt a tickle at the back of her throat, and suddenly she was laughing, so hard that she felt like she’d never stop. And then so was Veronica. Then Lawrence began too.

They were all cackling, all three of them, delirious with delight. Noel and Matt came to congratulate them, clapping as they did so, and then Veronica came out from her bench to hug Lawrence, and Aurora ran to join in, and the three of them were suddenly hugging, laughing, sobbing, cheering into each others’ ears.

Until they were all too weak to speak.

——

Aurora, first alphabetically, was going to be the first out of the tent with her final Showstopper, to make her way to the garden party that was always put on for friends and family for the grand finale.

All her bakes were on an enormous tray and she carried it, with Noel on her left and Matt on her right, all three of them bearing the load. Aurora was flabbergasted that nothing was moving, nothing was falling, but everything was still and settled.

As soon as she stepped outside the tent for the first time, she was met by a blast of noise like heat from a furnace.

Clapping, cheers, whoops, laughter. The crowd at the garden party was friends, family, co-workers, film crew, all the staff of Norton Hall, and of course Blu and Cheryl. She caught sight and sound of her nan - her nan! - her accent and her distinctive nasal voice above the rest of the crowd, bless. And Blake, waving his hands in the air and cupping them to his mouth to howl at the sky.

And the rest of the contestants, waiting with the biggest smiles, with applause, with cheers and shouts that drowned out everything else that was happening.

Tayce was in the centre. And Aurora had never seen her look so happy.

She rested the tray at the table outside the tent behind her name, and stopped, stunned, blinking so many times at the noise and her senses overloading. How green the grass was, how vibrant the gingham pattern on the table, how blue the sky was above her head, how bright and hot the sun felt on her bare arms.

“Go on, Aurora,” Matt muttered, pointing to the crowd. “You can go and see them!”

Aurora walked slowly, the dream she was in making her legs shake. Her feet were resting on air, two inches above the ground, just above the blades of grass. But she somehow made the walk, the whole twenty-foot walk, away from the tent towards them all, dazed by their overflowing love, their cheers and their applause.

Tayce was beaten in the first hug by Hurricane Ellie, swamping Aurora in her arms; and by the time she’d disentangled herself, Bimini was there, leaping forward and rubbing her arms and beaming at her; followed by a grinning Pip, followed by Joe, still cackling. In fact, everyone seemed to get a turn before Aurora was left with just Tayce, waiting patiently, the grin she wore showing all her teeth, her eyes crinkling in happiness.

“Told you you could do it, bitch!”

——

“I made this spread for Tayce,” Aurora began, still cursing that her name was first alphabetically and she was first up on the podium.

Part of the Showstopper this year was a little speech to the crowd at the garden party. It was meant to be a tear-jerker, obviously, for the viewers to have an emotional finale, but it had just served to make all the bakers pull their hair out while writing a speech about which contestant they were baking for, and why.

“I made it for her because Tayce has been my rock throughout the competition. We were on the back row together, we got through all the first challenges together … she corrected me on the name of the hall for God’s sake, I was calling it Carr Hall for ages!”

The polite laughter tinkled around the grounds.

“Tayce has been an inspiration in so many ways. She’s taught me that … that I can channel my worries into the energy that I use to make a cake or a bread or whatever - and that can be fuel for me, to push me forwards. Tayce showed me that they were just a source of power like anything else. She always told me to relax. Well, chillax. And when I did, I rediscovered that I loved baking.”

Aurora couldn’t look at Tayce, even from this distance. Couldn’t see her eyes. If she did she might burst.

Lawrence and Veronica sat on the chairs next to the tent, next to the judges, waiting their turns, while everyone else sat or stood on the grass; but Aurora’s position on the podium, towering over them all, kept eyes trained on her as she gave her speech about her Showstopper, before everyone would come and eat.

“Me and Tayce,” Aurora’s voice cracked. “Well, we didn’t always get along. It’s a competition, and we all have our eyes on the prize, and that pressure of wanting to be the best got on top of us both at times.”

The silence was only broken by birdsong.

“But Tayce taught me that I do my best when I’m relaxed. When I’m loving what I’m doing. She taught me that my thoughts can be my own worst enemy, especially when I’m thinking about other people.” She paused, glancing back at her cue card, the words jumbling before her eyes. “And most of all she taught me that - that I ama great baker. That …”

The lump in her throat was back, the fear creeping up her windpipe to strangle her words. She shook her head defiantly.

“That I am more than capable, that I’m skilled, and that I’m … loveable. She held up a mirror for me. So I made one for her too. Thanks, Tayce.”

More polite laughter, followed by applause, as she indicated the mirror glaze cake.

Finally, she met Tayce’s eyes, and as soon as she did, her own burned with unshed tears, emotion swelling in her like a tidal wave.

But Tayce too, her lip quivered, not even noticing the others around her or their applause. She opened her mouth, and her lips moved, but only for Aurora.

“Love you, bitch.”

Aurora managed to mouth back to her while applause rang in the air.

“Love you, too.”

——

“Ellie’s gonna hate me for this,” Lawrence muttered into the microphone, and Aurora looked over at the crowd, Ellie already shaking with silent laughter with her hands over her mouth. “I made a spread for her. She probably wasn’t expecting it, it rains too much to ever have a picnic outside in Dundee, poor bitch has probably never seen the sun -“

“Lawrence,” Matt Lucas piped up, “just a reminder that this will air before the 9pm watershed.”

“So I can’t say bitch? Fuck’s sake!” Lawrence put her hands on her hips.

Aurora put a hand to her mouth to stop herself from making too much noise, but laughing this much was making tears stream down her face; and Veronica, sat next to her, leaned into her arm, also shaking, stuffing her fist into her mouth to silence herself.

“Anyway, I made all this pink stuff for Ellie. And not just because Team Scotland has to stick together,” she added, as Ellie whooped in the crowd, “but because she really has been the best friend I could have made here.”

Veronica let out a cough that sounded a great deal like ‘sexual tension’ and she and Aurora spluttered with laughter.

“And ignore the peanut gallery over there,” Lawrence motioned to Veronica without even looking. “Because first and foremost, Ellie has been a great friend to me. She sat with me when I was upset when I did something wrong, and she was the first to celebrate anything I got right - even if it was at her expense.”

“Aww,” Veronica murmured next to Aurora.

“I take everything really seriously. I take baking to heart. If I’m not good at something, it freaks me out, because I’m usedto being good at everything I try. Gifted kid syndrome, if you know you know.” Lawrence thumped her chest. “But Ellie just has fun with it all. She taught me that you can have fun with something without necessarily needing to be perfect at it. There isn’t a yardstick of quality to having fun. And even if I’m not good at something, it doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth the time.”

Ellie was now quiet, as the others turned to watch her, but she was only looking at Lawrence, oblivious to everyone around her as the grin on her face quivered with emotion.

“Ellie is fun. And I wanted to make something that would be fun, and also her. That’s why there’s a lot more pink than I’m used to,” Lawrence continued, motioning to the huge pink cake and the pink icing on the choux buns she’d made.

“When I was unsure of myself, Ellie reminded me of what I could do. But she also reminded me that I should be having fun. That’s the reason I made this for her. Because baking should be fun, and should be something you don’t take too seriously. And once I got that, I loved it.”

As everyone applauded again, Lawrence gave the crowd a thumbs up, pushing her hair out of her eyes, looking as if she wanted to get off the podium as fast as possible.

——

“Come on Veronica,” Aurora muttered under her breath.

Veronica looked very short, smaller than usual, even on the podium, the microphone somewhere at her forehead before she adjusted it to her mouth. She licked her lips; her eyes darted to the crowd, to Aurora and Lawrence sat separate to them all, to the judges, and then down to her note paper again.

“Well,” Veronica said for what felt like the fortieth time, another giggle escaping her lips. “Hello, everyone.”

“She’s bombing,” Lawrence muttered.

“She’s just too nervous,” Aurora nodded.

“Right. So. I made this spread for Tia, you know this now, because there’s a sign saying Tea or Coffee on it, I thought that was a nice - erm, a nice touch.”

“God.” Lawrence put a hand to her chest.

Aurora watched as Veronica took a deep breath, held it for a second, and let it out slowly, the silence only interrupted by birdsong.

“I - I’m a perfectionist. If it’s not perfect, I don’t want it. If something is out, even by ten grams, even by a centimetre, I just want to throw it out and never look at it again.”

Veronica repeated the deep breath, clenching the podium, her knuckles white.

“Me and Tia just clicked. We’re quite similar, me and her. We have the same humour, we like the same police dramas and murder mystery documentaries, we both like art and drawing and stuff -”

“Since when does Veronica like drawing?”

“You need to check her instagram page,” Lawrence muttered back, “it’s all artwork.”

“- but the one thing me and Tia didn’t have in common was baking. Tia’s an amazing baker. But something about that tent - as soon as she was in it, she kept making a mess of everything, she won’t mind my saying that; and I know she got really frustrated, but she never wanted to quit. She just always wanted to get better.”

Veronica was tearing up, it was evident even from this distance, her white knuckles shaking. Tia, in the crowd, squirmed for her, clutching Pip’s hand as Veronica fought to get some more words out.

“Tia taught me that it’s fine to make mistakes.”

Another long pause.

“Not that - I don’t mean that Tia is always making mistakes! She does a lot of stuff really great! But she taught me that being perfect is basically impossible. And that I can trust myself if something goes wrong, that I can trust myself to be able to fix it, and not just give up.”

Tia dabbed her eyes with her free hand, shuffling nearer to Pip, who had a hand on her own chest in sympathy.

“Because she doesn’t give up. She just wants to do better. And I love that about her. I wish I’d put less pressure on myself when I first got in there, trying to be perfect at everything, instead of trying to be my best, and getting better by making mistakes.”

Veronica finally seemed to be settling, the rare smile appearing.

“She showed me that making mistakes is fine, and it doesn’t mean I’m a failure, it means I’m a person. And she - her bakes were amazing, and lovely, and she’s such a genuine person that everyone in the tent fell in love with her. Well,” she paused, looking up, “I did.”

Tia’s jaw dropped as she clutched at her chest, leaning into Pip at her side, tears falling freely down her face now as the rest of them clapped, while Veronica’s smile widened, her own tears falling too.

“That’s so …” Aurora murmured, not realising she was holding Lawrence’s hand.

“… cheesy,” Lawrence muttered, but her voice had a crack in it.

——

Aurora’s nan got the first hug when she went over to her family. Her best friend Blake had the second, patting her heavily on the back.

“So which one is the one you made all the cake for then?” Her nan motioned to the crowd of contestants, who had been mostly all mingling together, now breaking off to sit with the crew and each other.

“Tayce is - oh, she’s here.”

Tayce, appearing from somewhere, plonked herself on the grass by the picnic blanket and helped herself to a sausage roll. “Oi oi, saveloy! Oh, these look nice! You put baked beans in them?” Tayce grinned. “You know me like the back of your hand, Rory!”

“Beans on toast was your go-to breakfast, wasn’t it?”

“Oh god, yeah,” Tayce nodded. “Breakfast of kings! The only breakfast! If I could have beans on toast for the rest of my life, I’d die happy. A bit flatulent, but happy.”

She looped her arm through Aurora’s waist, planting a kiss on her lips, before picking up a pastry, leaving Aurora floating just a little from the contact.

“So are you two dating now?” Blake asked, his eyes wide as saucers, hoping for gossip as usual.

Aurora met Tayce’s gaze; they hadn’t really discussed anything official yet. Tayce’s smile was strangely shy, and her eyes earnest, a thousand questions behind them; but as they both nodded simultaneously, it felt like they could work out the details a little bit later.

“Yep!” They both exclaimed at the same time.

Tayce reached down and grasped Aurora’s hand. “And you’re the first to hear about it - not the tabloids, not Hello magazine!”

“You’re not just putting it on for the cameras, are you?” Aurora’s nan teased, wagging her finger at the pair of them.

Tayce turned to glance at Aurora, the same thought passing between them both.

“No way,” they both said at the same time, to a snort of laughter from Blake.

There had been a time, not too long ago, that Aurora might have taken the question as a cue to overthink, overanalyse - but that thought didn’t even exist any more. Instead of being like ducks, kicking to stay on the surface, they now just floated effortlessly.

Aurora just squeezed Tayce’s hand.

Everything was falling into place.

——

“Taking into account your final bakes, and your performances throughout the series, we’ve made our final decision.”

Aurora’s left hand was numb; Lawrence was cutting off the circulation to it.

They all stood before the judges, filming the first of the three endings to keep the actual winner a secret from everyone. This would be Aurora’s win; they’d then film Lawrence’s and finally Veronica’s. For now, they all stood in line; Aurora at Lawrence’s right and Veronica at her left.

Prue held the cake stand, the Bake Off emblem engraved in the glass, all of them in a line waiting for the decision, while the crowd stood impatient, ready to put on a show to congratulate them all.

“You’re all incredible bakers, the best in the UK,” Prue continued from Paul’s speech, “and this was the most difficult season by a long way to judge. You’re all so skilled, imaginative, and clever, and I know you’ll all go on to amazing things after this is over.”

Lawrence’s hand was shaking in Aurora’s; and she could hear Veronica’s breathing on her other side.

This is it.

“The winner of the Great British Bake Off is …”

Complete silence.

Even the birdsong had waned in the background.

A silence that seemed to last an eternity.

Aurora watched Prue’s mouth, wondering when she would open it again, put them all out of their misery, Veronica’s breath audible through the silence and Lawrence’s hand sweating in hers and Aurora’s heart must be the loudest thing in the whole country right now at the rate it hammered her ribs -

——

EPILOGUE

October 2021

Tayce had had to let Aurora go for Blu to wield the camera at the three finalists on the smallest of the neverending number of sofas in Pip’s sister’s house. Lawrence in the middle of the three, all squashed together on what was really a two-person sofa, but they’d all linked arms and interlocked their fingers, staring at the screen, watching themselves.

“I’m never gonna get used to being on screen,” Tia mused, shaking her head. “I swear I don’t sound like that.”

“You do, you definitely do.”

But Tia was only half paying attention to Tayce’s words, her attention on Veronica, who was ignoring her, staring enraptured at the screen. Lawrence, on the other hand, kept glancing over to see Ellie, both of them doing that strange thing they did in filming yet again, just able to know when the other was looking over at them to make sure they were alright.

Tayce tried to relax, hands in her lap, but her chest fluttered every time she met Aurora’s gaze.

The finale had been Tayce’s favourite episode to watch, simply because she hadn’t been in it. The element of surprise was there as she watched it, although it was there for all of them, because there the finalists were, on the screen, still waiting for the winner to be announced.

It must be between Aurora and Lawrence. Veronica only has one badge; it probably won’t be her.

“The winner of the Great British Bake Off is …”

The painful zoom of the camera on everyone’s faces. Aurora’s nervous smile, pure yet heartbreaking. Lawrence looking at the sky to stop herself from crying, both her hands occupied by another finalist. Veronica, her stare intent with anticipation, chewing her bottom lip.

“Aurora!”

The room erupted.

Cheryl was jumping up and down, the first at the sofa to hug Aurora as she sat still as a statue, hands at her mouth and eyes agape in shock, as Lawrence pulled her tightly to herself, planting a delighted kiss in her hair.

“It’s you!” Veronica shrieked, shaking her knee, “it’s you! You won! You won the whole thing!”

And then everyone else streamed in to hug her. Pip was first - Pip was always the first to lay a comforting hand - Tia was close on her heels - Ginny’s hands looped round her neck from behind and their eyes crinkled in joy - but Aurora still sat frozen, only her rapid blinking suggesting anyone was home at all.

Tayce felt time stop again, but this time in a moment of perfection and not defeat.

The contest environment evaporated, she couldn’t fathom feeling anything but pure elation for Aurora’s win, couldn’t fathom having felt any other way for this wonderful woman who she was lucky enough to now call her girlfriend, sat with her hands at her mouth and silent tears coursing down her face as Blu pointed a camera at it.

“Aurora! It’s you! It’s you!” Blu was patting her knee while the rest of them excitedly hugged and squeezed at her. “Do you have any words for us right now, or is it a bit overwhelming?”

“It’s - what - I can’t believe it!”

Aurora’s phone was buzzing on the dining room table, undoubtedly hundreds of friends and family calling and texting and tagging her in Instagram posts and tweets, congratulations spilling over from every direction, an outpouring of love and support and adoration.

The programme was still running, footage of Prue and Paul giving their final summaries of Aurora, and the other two finalists - other contestants giving sound bites - Aurora’s finalist speech as her face was red with tears - the where are they now segment starting to play for all the contestants.

Pip back at her day job, giving the camera a thumbs up, followed by a snap of her with Ginny at Blackpool Tower and a video of them both on the Big One. Joe reliving that Instagram video again, and clips of Cherry, Ellie and Asttina all trying to recreate it too. Cherry back at the dog-grooming business she worked for, and walking her own dog. Asttina back at the gym, followed by a photo of her and Bimini on a boat on the Thames. Bimini at their laptop, followed by pictures of them holding the childrens’ book they’d written since the show. Ellie’s move to Glasgow, a clip of her dyeing Lawrence’s hair back to the bright purple it was now. Tia and Veronica somewhere in the Lake District, windswept but with smiles a mile wide.

But Tayce didn’t see or hear any of it. Aurora was the only thing she could see.

And as she stumbled towards Tayce, draping herself into her arms and laughing in delight, Tayce held her as tightly as she could, crushing her eyes shut but not stopping her own tears, her heart bursting for Aurora as she was privileged to share this moment of exhilarated happiness with her …

She’s already a Star Baker. She doesn’t need a badge or a title.

But she’s got both now! And hopefully she can know that she’s a Star Baker as much as we all do!

——

THE END

[turqrambles]

I watched all 26 episodes of an obscure Australian cartoon in one week and I’m not okay - My journey with Wicked! (2001) PART 1

Here it is, the reason I started this blog in the first place. I need to talk about this cartoon I ran into completely by chance. 

It all started, like you would, with Tubitv.

Good ol’ Tubi, the free streaming service that makes you either an expert at being able to find diamonds in piles of garbage or a connoisseur of said garbage. It’s thanks to Tubi that I put down that I watched Alpha and Omega: Family Vacation on Letterboxd for all to see and judge, but it’s also thanks to Tubi that I finally ended up watching Killer Klowns from Outer Space.

Anyhoo, one day I was browsing their family film selection when I ran into this selection. And that was the day my life changed forever.

What you see before you, posted to a streaming service accessible in the United States, is the movie adaptation of an Australian TV show that never made it to the United States, which is based off a series of Australian children’s books from the 90′s that also never made it to the United States. It made it to other territories like Germany and the United Kingdom (and it apparently did super well in France but don’t quote me on this) but the TV show ran for one year and then disappeared without a trace after one 26 episode season.

How obscure is this franchise? Well, for starters, at the time I’m writing this in 2020, the books, the TV show, and the movie all don’t have a single Wikipedia page to call their own, and the easiest way to get info about this thing is to find the (rather tiny) TvTropes page. 

Let’s just get right into this shall we.

What is Wicked!?

Before you try to be all cute and make any references to the hit musical, there’s a reason I’m putting that exclamation mark there.

Wicked! started out as a series of six children’s books written by Paul Jennings and Morris Gleitzman. I actually grabbed a kindle copy of all six books (because I’m in this thing too deep and I wanted to see how the cartoon compared with the source material) and I gotta say, they’re very charming.

The best way I can describe them is that they’re in the kid horror genre, but they’re less Goosebumps and more The Weenies book series by David Lubar in terms of gore and child endangerment. Wicked! has some artful depictions of blood and gore, but in a way that can be digested by the grade school crowd.

Being a former child, I can proudly proclaim that I would’ve adored this series when I was younger. Just look at these covers!

The plot of the books is that there’s a widower with a daughter and a divorced wife with a son who get married, and the two new step-siblings Rory and Dawn absolutely hate each other. They can’t stand the fact that their parents are getting married! Gross!

But then, on the day of their wedding, creepy things begin to happen after Rory receives an appleman doll in the mail, and then, over the course of six books, a deadly single-minded virus that feeds on hate and is targeting Rory’s bloodline begins to spread across wildlife, creating crazed mutant animals that try to kill everyone in the household. It’s up to Rory, Dawn, and Dawn’s grandfather Gramps to stop this virus before it kills Rory and his mother, and to do so, they have to seek out Rory’s father, who seems to be the mysterious cause and/or the solution to the virus.

I’m not sure how well these books did, on account of the whole “not Australian” affliction I seem to suffer from, but they seemed to do well enough to get a TV show adaptation.

And surprisingly, the TV show is a very close adaptation of the books, only they changed the plot in two big ways so that it fits an animated series with a “monster of the week” setup.

The first big change was that, of course, they toned down the blood and gore and removed the deadliness of the virus, choosing to go with a more cartoony mutagenic approach. Rory gets infected by the virus several times in the show, just like how he does in the books, but unlike the books, he never thinks that he’s going to die from it and it’s definitely treated as a more temporary thing. There’s no race against time either. Everyone is trying to live their lives except every so often, the virus shows up. A wacky cartoon virus with cartoony stakes.

That brings me to the other main change that they make in the show. Unlike the books, where the main villain is a mindless virus that feeds off of hate, an invisible foe that can only be defeated at the end of the last book with the help of Rory’s father, the TV show decides that that’s no fun and instead makes a main villain out of one of the main plot points in the books. Say hello to The Appleman. (Apple-Man? Apple Man? Fuck it, I’m going with the first one from now on)

Instead of having the virus mutate mysteriously and having the main characters constantly hypothesize what’s going to happen next, the TV show made a main villain who constantly reinvents new strains of virus in a laboratory that he set up in an abandoned refinery.

What then happens is a basic plot set-up that the show follows pretty consistently in every episode. The family is trying to do something, we get the theme for the episode, and The Appleman, who is a spiteful bastard who is trying to ruin this one family in particular (and I’ll get to that), decides to make a virus that will infect the theme of that episode.

Pretty standard cartoon stuff, right? Ah, but then you don’t realize the beauty of this show. But first, I gotta introduce the main stars of this show.

The Characters

(quick note: this bus is incredibly important to the plot, but only in the books)

First we have Rory (the boy holding up the tin) and Dawn (the mad red head).

Dawn is the step-sister who lost her mom, a bus driver, in a gruesome bus accident, Rory is the step-brother whose parents got a divorce and then his dad went missing, believed to have run away from his whole family. Both of them are meant to be the dual protagonists, but I feel that there’s just a tiny bit more focus on Rory. There’s a reason for this that I will mention later.

What is interesting to note is that they make Rory the smart, non-athletic little nerd that gets picked on a lot at school for being a dork while Dawn loves sports, is failing science, gets made fun of for not being as girly as the other girls in her class, and likes violent computer games. I wouldn’t exactly call them “fleshed out” but they did enough to make these kids feel like actual kids.

Also, they fight. Constantly. This is the main complaint of anyone who actually looks into this show judging by my brief skimming of Internet comments because these two constantly bicker and insult each other and that makes up like 40% of the dialogue in any given episode. While this is one of the main story conflicts and they’re like this in the books too, it just feels super exhausting to see these two constantly at each other’s throats in every single episode.

They get mean too. Which, surprisingly, makes them both more realistic (I babysat multiple times and kids can be pretty verbally awful to each other) while also making them just a tiny bit unbearable at times. Here’s some actual dialogue.

"My dad sent it to me!" "Gee, he must think a lot of you to send you a doll full of worms." "Your mum thought so much of you she drove this bus over a cliff and into the river to get away from you."

GEEZ, guys...

Eileen, Rory’s mom.

It feels out of the three adults in the family, she gets the least amount of character development, but she does get a fair amount of screentime, so you can’t really say they’re intentionally ignoring her. She divorced her previous husband and works as a mail courier. Instead of owning a car, she drives a motorcycle, and, in the first episode, even drives it to her own wedding while dressed in a bridal gown. Rory’s mom rules.

She tries to bond with Dawn because she always wanted to raise a daughter, but Dawn clearly doesn’t like her new stepmom very much. Dawn is also afraid of the motorcycle and it comes up a couple times in the show.

Eileen is the adult that gets targeted the least by The Appleman’s schemes. There’s a very pointed reason for this, and I swear, I’m getting to it soon.

(quick note: yes, the show uses real photos to put in picture frames in the backgrounds and it’s real weird and never addressed)

Jack, Dawn’s dad.

Jack is a sheep shearer, just like in the books, and he’s a big easy-going dope that is hard not to love. Look at him hammer in this carpet. A true champ.

Out of the three adults in the family, he seems to be the one that nearly dies the most, with The Appleman going out of his way to specifically target Jack in some episodes. If you know Appleman’s backstory, this reads as absolutely petty spite and I love every minute of it.

Gramps, Dawn’s grandfather and Jack’s dad.

He’s an aging WWII veteran (one that has killed people in combat no less) who radiates constant Boomer vibes and, unlike Eileen and Jack, he actually sees some of the crazy shit that happens and will sometimes sense when something is infected with virus when the other two adults can’t.

In the books, he’s suffering pretty badly from dementia, but thankfully the cartoons drop that completely. I’m glad too, because I don’t have the confidence that they would’ve written it with enough sophistication to make it not seem ableist. Instead, he’s just your typical kooky cartoon grandfather.

He’s probably the adult that gets the most screentime because he will actually help Dawn and Rory out. Again, this ties into the books, where he was the main adult ally for the kids.

He says a lot of army-themed catchphrases. It’s a tad overplayed but it never really gets to a point where I would call it “annoying”. Also, instead of living in the house, he lives in a tiny granny flat on the property. Sometimes Rory spends the night there.

Last but not least, we have the star of the show, and the reason why the easiest way to find information of this show is to google “Wicked The Appleman”.

The Appleman, as explained, is the main villain of the story. Dressed in a very fancy suit complete with dress shoes and a nice blue tie, he lives in an old refinery full of rats, bats, and giant worms (called Slobberers), and he’s rocking a voice that can be best described as “Australian Mark Hamil” with an absolutely heavenly evil laugh. He has gross clawed hands, a rotten apple for a head, and likes making people miserable, because he’s basically the living puppet for a virus that feeds off of negative emotions. The main goal of each episode is to either defeat him or to stop the mess he’s made. Usually both.

Since all of his minions are non-sentient animals, a lot of his dialogue is him lurking behind something while he monologues to himself, sometimes turning it into a creepy little rhyme. He’s a pretty lonely guy, so him hanging out with this family can be seen as a very non-subtle cry for help.

The best episodes are the ones where he tries to lurk about in public with a very poor attempt at disguising his hideous features. Somehow it always works, you know, despite the fact that he has yellow eyes, the skin like a moldy apple, and no ears.

What Makes Wicked! Unique

(no, The Appleman doesn’t actually use that axe)

The first thing this show does that most of the formulaic shows don’t do is that it does, in fact, have a beginning, a middle, and an end. That’s why this show was packaged into a full-length movie - you can glue scenes together and actually make a pretty decent narrative, even if the resulting movie definitely had a “glued together TV show episodes” feel ala some of the bad Disney sequels like Cinderella II and Atlantis II. 

This show even has some plot-heavy episodes that dive into just why this whole Appleman situation is going on and why he seems to have it out for this one family in order to flesh out the characters more.

Because that’s a thing that this show does. The Appleman is a cartoon-y villain who cackles in his lab and constantly invents new strains of viruses that can mutate things like animals and household appliances, but he doesn’t do it to take over the city or to “destroy the world”. He does it purely to inconvenience this one Australian family, who he stalks pretty regularly. This is a thing that comes from the books and honestly, it’s a thing that elevates Appleman from “ugly-looking cartoon villain” to “pretty damn creepy, if also still cartoony in execution”.

Sure, a lot of cartoon villains target the main protagonist in their evil schemes, but this one is definitely more personal.

He regularly follows Rory and Dawn to school and, when the family goes on a camping trip, he comes too. If Rory decides he’s going to hang out in the wrecker’s yard, The Appleman will be cackling and hiding behind totaled vehicles. If Gramps takes the kids out to the bay to go fishing, The Appleman will pull an ice cream truck out of his garage and follow them there. That’s how the main conflict is really set up.

I think if a scarier cartoon tried, they’d make him out to be this grotesque stalker, but instead, since this show is kinda goofy in execution, he’s like the shittiest cryptid in the world, constantly crouching behind trash cans and on top of rooftops while constantly cackling about how clever he is and how, miraculously, no one notices anything’s amiss.

This alone would make this villain interesting, but then they set up something about this show at the beginning if you watch the intro and the first episode and put two and two together.

Right from the start, the opening shows that The Appleman was once human by depicting his transformation by the virus. They don’t even try and pretend that he’s some demon or some sort of supernatural monster - he’s specifically a blue collar worker who had a nasty run-in with fate and mutated into this hideous apple-headed creature that now has to hide out in an abandoned refinery. You see why he’s dressed like that - he’s still wearing his work uniform.

Right after you watch that intro, the first episode of the show has Rory receiving a mysterious package from his father on the day of his mother’s wedding. It’s the first time that Rory and his mom Eileen have heard from their dad after he mysteriously vanished years ago. 

What’s inside? An apple-headed doll, which contains the first virus-infected monsters, The Slobberers.

When The Appleman makes his first dramatic appearance, he never says Dawn’s name, but he does know Rory’s name.

And, in case you didn’t pick up the hints from the first episode, the fourth episode really drives it home without spelling it out. Then the last episode of the series decides to say it out loud.

That’s right. Rory’s father, the man who mysteriously vanished from Eileen and Rory’s lives, is still an important part of the cartoon’s storyline, but instead of being the man who appears in the last book that knows how to cure the virus while also being the first victim of the virus, he’s the main antagonist.

The Appleman is Rory’s father.

And honestly, because of this little plot point, this show becomes a much richer experience once you look at the unhinged appleman who keeps unleashing horror on these kids and realize that he’s a divorced dad who constantly keeps tabs on his ex-wife's unstable dysfunctional family in order to make them more pissed at each other because that feeds the virus that mutated him.

This is a very cool concept. This is where Wicked! shines when, for all intents and purposes, it is otherwise a pretty average turn-of-the-century Australian cartoon that can be best described as “it’s okay, I guess” in terms of quality.

Because that’s really the rating I can give this show. It’s Okay.

It’s a very solid Okay, but I think any adjective more powerful than “Okay” is really pushing it. It’s not Great, it’s not Amazing. It’s Okay. Alright. Kinda Good.

But man, is it a wild ride.

Next time, I’m going to start discussing the actual episodes as well as this show’s pros and cons. Dividing this up into multiple parts partly because I feel like these things are more easily digested in smaller chunks and partly because I’m pretty sure tumblr now has a size limit on posts soooo...yeah.

Follow this handy link for Part 2 - The Actual Review!

[abundanceofsoph]

SkyFire 3: Chapter 6

Dunkirk Premieres & the summer before tour: July/August 2017  

Word count: 3.3k

SkyFire 3 MASTERLIST

>Instagram posts

The song in this chapter is Boys Like You by Anna Clendening

In the weeks following Robin’s funeral, both Harry and Aurora tried to find their way back to normal. Aurora spent hours at a time in either of their home studios, writing countless songs in an attempt to process the painful emotions coursing through her or working on a surprise gift that she was painting for Harry. They both called Anne almost every day, just checking in with her to make sure she was looking after herself, often inviting her to come stay with them in the city, although she always refused. Before long, the premiere for Dunkirk was  only a week away and Harry flew to LA and back for the press tour and enjoyed the long days of interviews alongside his cast mates. Aurora remained in London but was eagerly looking forward to walking the red carpet with Harry at the London premiere in a few days’ time, having already organised a gorgeous silver gown with the help of Harry Lambert and it hung, waiting, in her wardrobe for the big day.

xXx

The day before the premiere, Rori was buried under the duvet when Harry walked back into their bedroom after his morning run. It was not exactly unusual given that she had never particularly been a morning person, but usually she was scrolling on her phone by this point, trying to muster up the energy to get out of bed and start her day. He decided to leave her be and headed into the ensuite bathroom to shower and change out of his workout clothes. When he returned, she was still curled up in bed and he started to grow concerned. Harry’s brow furrowed as he climbed up the bed and lay back down next to his wife, peeling back the covers to reveal her flushed face. At first, he wasn’t too surprised by her red, sweaty face given the summer heat already building outside and the way she’d wrapped herself up in the duvet like a burrito. His brow furrowed quickly when she groaned, her eyes squeezing tight at the brightness of the room suddenly revealed by the loss of the covers.

“You alright love?” he asked, his fingers tracing her cheek bones noticing the heat radiating off her.

“Feel like rubbish,” she mumbled while feebly attempting to pull the covers back over her head.

“You feeling poorly, my darling?” Harry asked. His voice was low and soothing, full of concern as she slowly nodded her head, a pained groan following the movement.

“Cold,” she mumbled. “’n my throat hurts.”

“How about I run you a nice bath and put some fresh sheets on the bed?” Harry offered, “and then I can make you some soup.”

Aurora nodded her head in agreement, making no move to follow him as he headed back into the ensuite and started filling the tub. Once it was full, he returned to the bed, scooping her up into his arms and carrying her bridal style.

“Join me?” She asked, her voice a soft mumble as she stripped off the oversized shirt she’d worn to bed.

“I will in a moment, love,” he replied. “Let me just go change the sheets real quick first.”

He disappeared for a few minutes and Aurora sank into the tub, resting her aching head back against the edge. Harry returned quickly, slipping into the tub behind her and letting her settle between his legs. She lent heavily against his chest, her head lolling back on his shoulder, her eyes closing as the warm water settled around them both.

“Better?” he asked, receiving only a content hum in response.

They stayed in the bath until the water began to turn cold and then Harry bundled his wife up in a large fluffy towel before leading her back to their bed. She burrowed back under the covers, asking Harry to stay with her while she napped. She dozed on and off for a little over an hour before turning over and looking up at Harry where he was sitting back against the headboard, a book in one hand while the other continued running along her shoulders absently.

“You should call Anne,” she mumbled, startling him. “Should ask her to go with you tomorrow.”

“What?” Harry asked.

“It’ll do her good to get out,” Rori explained, her throat still raspy, “and you shouldn’t go on your own.”

“You might feel better by then,” he argued. “Was looking forward to showing up with my gorgeous wife on my arm.”

“It’d take a miracle to get me feeling up to a red carpet by tomorrow afternoon, Harry,” Rori replied, with a soft smile. “Was looking forward to it too. Guess you’ll just have to do another movie so I can go to the next premiere.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Harry chuckled. “Feeling hungry? I could make you that soup.”

“A little soup would be nice,” she answered, already burrowing back under the covers as Harry climbed to his feet and headed towards the kitchen.

xXx

Anne arrived the following morning and Harry Lambert showed up to the apartment a few hours after her to help Harry get dressed and provide Anne with a few dresses to chose from that he had gathered together last minute after Harry text him the previous afternoon. Anne had been in Mum Mode since arriving hours earlier, ensuring that her daughter in law didn’t lift a single unnecessary finger. She had Rori set up on the large sectional sofa in the living room, a mug of tea in hand and her next dose of Cold and Flu tablets within easy reach for her to take in a few hours’ time. She’d also popped to the nearby Tesco for groceries and set about making a fresh pot of chicken noodle soup, shaking her head in disappointment when Harry admitted to using tinned soup the night before. By the time both mother and son were dressed for the evening, Rori was wrapped up in a nest of blankets in front of the tv. She smiled brightly as Harry pranced into the room, goofing around and acting as if he was walking a catwalk as he twirled in front of his wife, showing off his sleek black suit.

“If I wasn’t so sick that I felt like my head was going to explode,” Rori said, “I promise I would be ripping that suit off you.”

Harry let out a loud laugh, throwing his head back. “How about I promise to wear it again when you’re feeling better?” he finally asked, his voice dropping lower which caused Rori’s cheeks to flush more than yesterday fever.

“Can we please keep the flirting to a minimum until I go home?” Anne joked as she entered the room, breaking the intense eye contact between the young couple.

“Can’t promise anything mum,” Harry laughed in response. “It’s not my fault that my wife is the most gorgeous woman on the planet.”

“Harry you can’t honestly make claims like that when your mother is standing right in front of you in a dress like that,” Rori argued. “You look incredible Mumma.”

“Thank you Darling. Are you feeling any better?”

“A little,” Rori said. “Now go have fun tonight alright.”

“You sure you don’t want to call Ella to come stay with you?” Harry asked as he kissed her forehead and prepared to leave.

“I’ll be fine, H,” Rori replied. “I’ve got the live stream ready to go. Drugs within arms reach and homemade soup on the stove to reheat for dinner. Now stop worrying about me and got strut your stuff.”

“If you need anything, promise you’ll call,” Harry said, his brow furrowing in concern.

“I’ll be fine,” Rori repeated with a roll of her eyes. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Love you,” Harry added, giving his wife one last kiss before leading his mother out the front door.

After Harry and Anne left, Aurora fell asleep, waking to the sound of the alarm she had set so that she didn’t miss the livestream of the red carpet event in Leicester Square. She smiled softly to herself as she watched Harry’s castmates arrive, having met many of them at a friends and family dinner that had been held a few weeks earlier before the press tour began. Her smile split across her face as the camera swept around to catch Harry climbing out of the car and offering his arm to his mother. Rori felt so proud as she watched the fans scream and cheer excitedly for him. He was stopped part way along the carpet for an interview. He talk a little about the experience of acting for the first time and working with someone as talented as Christopher Nolan.

“You’re joined by your mother this evening,” the interviewer said. “Where’s your new wife?”

“Aurora has the flu,” Harry explained, “but she’s watching at home. Hi, love.”

Once Harry and Anne disappeared into the theatre, Rori switched off the live stream and queued up a rom-com on Netflix, falling asleep again before she reached the midway point of the film. When she woke, the sky was dark outside the large windows, the city lights glinting off the black water of the Thames and Harry was knelt next to the sofa, his hand brushing softly against Rori’s arm.

“Hey baby,” he whispered. “How about we get you to bed?”

Aurora nodded and allowed Harry to help her to her feet.

“’m really proud of you, H,” she mumbled as they crawled into bed a few minutes later.

“You haven’t even seen the movie yet,” he chuckled softly. “Might change your mind.”

“Shut up and take the compliment,” she replied. “Proud of you for putting yourself out there and taking a risk.”

“Thank you, love,” he whispered. “Now get some sleep so you feel better in time for Sunday.”

xXx

By the time Sunday morning arrived, Aurora was indeed feeling much better, allowing her to join Harry on the journey across the channel. They left early in the morning as the sun was just beginning to dawn and drove down to Dover before taking the Channel Tunnel across to Calais and then headed along the northern coast of French until they reached Dunkirk midmorning.

While Harry was busy with interviews and a photoshoot, Aurora wandered along the beach and strolled through the streets of the small village, before meeting back up with her husband to walk the red carpet.

To say that Aurora was proud would have been an understatement. For as long as she had known Harry, he had been adored by his fans, but this was something new for both of them. For the first time, people who hadn’t previously considered themselves to be fans were suddenly paying attention to Harry and giving him credit for a job well done. No longer was he just a former member of a boy band, but now he was a successful solo artist and a talented actor in a credible film. Aurora was beaming the entire day, over the moon to see the love and support being directed towards the man that she knew deserved all of it and so much more.

Following the premiere, the entire cast and their partners headed to a local restaurant that had been booked out and enjoyed dinner together. It was a loud and energetic group, taking up every table in the large dining room and Aurora enjoyed listening to Harry and his castmates recount stories from set. Fionn in particular was more than happy to embarrass Harry, much to Rori’s excitement. Once dinner finally came to an end, the couple stayed at a hotel in town for the night before driving back to London the following day and then flying on to New York for the third and final premiere of the film.

xXx

Once Dunkirk was released in cinemas, the remaining 6 weeks of summer were busy for both Harry and Aurora with the upcoming tour looming on the horizon and countless projects on the go. Harry was busy filming music videos for the next singles to be released, as well as attending countless meetings for the tour and a BBC special that they would be filming at the end of August. Throughout the chaotic weeks of planning, filming and rehearsing, Aurora made sure to spend time with her loved ones before she hit the road with Harry and wouldn’t be able to see them for months on end.

One afternoon in mid-August she caught up with Ella’s mum, Bek, for tea and a catch up in the small flat were Ella grew up in south Wimbledon. The following day, Ella herself came over to Aurora’s apartment for lunch.

“Had afternoon tea with your mum yesterday,” Rori said once they sat down at in the living room with plates of freshly cooked pasta in hand.

“I swear you see my mum more than I do these days,” Ella laughed.

“Well it helps that she works from home and I don’t have a real job,” Rori replied. “Makes scheduling all too easy.”

“You’ve got me there,” Ella said, taking another bite of her pasta.

“Feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks though,” Rori added. “What’s had your weekends so busy lately?”

“Well,” Ella replied, nervously looking at her plate. “I started seeing a new guy.”

“Thought you were going to take some time for yourself after things ended with Natalie,” Rori replied, trying to keep to hint of judgment out of her tone.

“And I did,” Ella replied defensively. “It’s been 3 months and now I’m seeing someone new.”

“Well then tell me all about this new boy,” Rori said, biting back a tiny smirk at her best friends’ defensiveness.

“His name is Tim,” Ella all but sighed.

“Wasn’t the guy before Natalie, Tim?”

“No, that was Tom.”

“This one from tinder too?”

“Yes,” Ella snarked. “Not everyone can find the love of their life at a red carpet event.”

“I’m not judging,” Rori defended, her hand up in a sign of peace. “Just getting the lay of the land.”

“Yeah I know, sorry,” the blonde sighed, her shoulders sagging. “Just sick of mum telling me ‘I told you so’ every time I get my heartbroken.”

“You’ll find the right one eventually,” Rori promised.

“I mean trust me,” Ella continued. “I’m going in sceptical because most of them have been liars or just stringing me along, but I like Tim. He makes me feel like it’s worth taking a risk, you know. Mum doesn’t always know best. I mean she thought my dad was the one and look how well that turned out for her.”

“Well I trust your judgement. Now tell me more about him.”

“Oh my god, he’s amazing Rors. He’s genuinely tall, dark and handsome. Works out but isn’t a health freak that’s gonna shame me for getting a Big Mac and he has these chocolate brown eyes that I think I could stare at for hours. His mum is from Jamaica and his dads from the Midlands. Grew up in Peckham and he’s working as a physio for a football club.”

“You got any photos?” Aurora asked, smiling softly at Ella’s excitement.

“Oh yeah, hang on.”

“Oh, damn girl he is cute. Kinda reminds me of Stormzy.”

“I know right? God, I hope this one works out Rors, I really like him.”

“Remember what I said a few months ago,” Aurora cautioned. “Just ease into it.”

“I will,” Ella promised. “Gonna go so slow I’ll be crawling.”

Conversation moved on from there as they discussed the upcoming tour, Ella’s excitement to start teaching in a few weeks’ time, and an art project that Rori was putting the final touches on, before circling back to Ella’s love life and the date she’d just gone on with Tim.

“Hello earth to Aurora,” Ella said, waving a hand in front of her friends’ vacant stare.

“Sorry,” Rori replied, snapping back to focus on the blonde. “I’m listening.”

“No, you’re not,” Ella chuckled. “You’ve got that look on your face.”

“What look?”

“The look that says; Ella’s disaster love life has inspired another song.”

“My face does not say that,” Rori replied indignantly.

“But I’m not wrong am I.”

“Maybe,” Rori conceded. “Shut up.”

“I’m gonna go,” Ella replied.

“What? No. Stay,” Rori implored.

“You're useless to me at this point,” Ella said. “It’s fine. Go write. But when the royalty checks start rolling in you can buy me a Gucci purse. I have my eye on a few.”

“I love you,” Rori told her, the unspoken apology clear in her tone.

“I know,” Ella laughed as they hugged goodbye and then Ella was out the front door and Aurora headed straight down the hall to her music studio, a melody already filling her head.

Ella reached the lobby, stepping out of the elevator just as Harry was returning from running in Battersea Park.

“Where are you off too?” he asked. “I expected you to still be here until dinner.”

“Rors got inspired so I’m getting out of her hair so she can work,” Ella explained.

“Oh, you mean you didn’t want to hang out while she stared off into space and completely ignored everything you said?” Harry asked with an amused chuckle. He was very familiar with they way his wife would disappear into her own head when she had an idea for a song churning in her head.

“Exactly,” Ella smiled. “Good luck.”

Not wanting to disturb his wife while she worked, Harry tried to stay away from the studio for the majority of the afternoon. He showered and changed out of his workout clothes and then puttered around the kitchen, putting together a vegetarian lasagne for dinner. After cleaning up the kitchen, he finally grew bored enough to go disrupt the impromptu writing session.

At first, she didn’t notice him, but when he flopped down on the sofa across from the piano, her head snapped up and she smiled brightly.

“Ella left,” she said.

“I know,” Harry replied. “Ran into her in the lobby on my way in. Said you got inspired.”

“I did,” she grinned, clearly excited. “Wanna hear what I’ve got so far?”

“Always,” Harry replied.

So when you hold my hand, do you wanna hold my heart? When you say you want me, is it all of me or just one part? So when you hold my hand, do you wanna hold my heart? When you say you want me Mumma said there'd be boys like you tearing my heart in two Doing what you do best Taking me for a ride, telling me pretty little lies But with you, I can't resist I'm terrified, but I'll never let you know Social suicide if I ever let it show Everything feels just right I fall in place, we fall in line I'll never let you go “Thinking I’ll repeat the bridge and the chorus to finish out and I’m still trying some things out for the opening verse,” she explained once she finished singing.

“Sounds brilliant,” Harry replied, smiling brightly at her. “How about you take a break and we have some dinner? Made lasagne.”

“I love your lasagne,” Rori replied, already standing from the piano and heading for the door.

“Jeez, wait for me will ya?” Harry called out with an amused huff, already moving to follow her down the hall towards the kitchen.

NEXT CHAPTER

OR CONTINUE READING ON AO3

[god-save-the-keen]

Family matters

Book: Mother of the year

Pairing: Thomas Mendez x MC (Tara)

Summary: This was a request for the lovely @desiree-0816, Thomas and Tara decide to adopt the other daughter.

Words: 2155

Warning: a little bit of angst but, like always, mostly fluff.

Prompt: #14 from this list! Although, she asked especially for the adoption thing and I freaking love it 💕

Note: I always love to take request, even if I'm a little slow sometimes 😅💕

Thomas' tag list: @chetachisblog @annekebbphotography @princess-geek @lilyofchoices @ao719 @marycarrillo21 @blackcatkita @kamybelen-blog @cxld-play @vaticanwaltz @thmasmendez @flyawayboo  

Permanent tag list: @gardeningourmet @client-327 @dawn-1994 @malakbesharah

"So, how do you want to do this?" Thomas and Tara were sitting in the living room, a cup of coffee in their hands and the snow falling behind them on the window. She had put her legs on his lap as one of his hands absently caressed her there.

"I don't know…" She leaned against the couch backrest and drank a sip of coffee. "I don't know if we should do it together with them both or separately or if you should talk to Luz and I talk to Rory." Her fingers tapping on the side of the cup, frowning a bit. "I just don't want them to take it the wrong way."

"I know, gorgeous. Me neither." They stood like that, in silence, lost in their own thoughts, thinking about the best way to do it.

"What do you think they are talking about?" Luz asked in a hushed whisper. They were going to the kitchen when they heard their parents talking and stopped in the hallway, hiding and listening.

"I don't know, but must be something important. Normally, they are not this serious."

"Yeah… Normally they have their lips stuck together like with super glue or something." Luz said with a grimace as Rory quietly giggled. "Should we go in?"

Rory observed her mom, her face was worried and she could see she was nervous, still tapping the side of the cup until, a moment later, Thomas took her hand in his, she could see how her mom smiled at him and how she started to relax. "No… I think we better leave them alone. Come on, I know where my mom hid the Christmas candies in their bedroom." And they started walking as quietly as possible, on their tiptoes. She had always liked Thomas, in the last three years he had been more of a father figure to her than her own father had in her whole life, she knew that thanks to him she was with her mom and that alone was enough reason to like him.

"How do you think Luz is going to react?" He hadn't seen her this worried since the trail with Guy. "I don't want her to feel like I'm replacing Soledad." He took both of their cups and put them on the coffee table, his arms encircled her body, holding her close, caressing her back softly.

"I know, Tara. We'll make sure of it." She nodded against his shoulder, hugging him back. "I think maybe the best way to have this talk is all of us together, so they can ask us whatever they need."

She separated from him and snuggle against his chest. "Yeah, I believe you are right. Tomorrow morning?"

"Sounds perfect" He kissed the side of her head, gently leaving his lips pressed there for a moment. "Wanna go to bed?"

"Only if my husband comes with me" She said standing up and taking his hand as he chuckled and followed her. They turn off the lights, only leaving the tree and the fairy lights around the house on and they went to check on the girls. They were in Luz's bedroom, soundly sleeping with a few empty candy packages on the bed and floor. Tara laughed quietly shaking her head, dropping the packages in the garbage, and tucked Luz in bed as Thomas carried Rory to her bedroom, careful to not wake her up. Once both girls were settled, they went to their bed, Thomas spooning her, holding her waist like every night of the last two year. She pressed her back to his chest and entwined their fingers together, making soft circles on his skin with her thumb.

"It's going to be okay, sweetheart." He kissed her nape. "And, if they don't agree, we don't do it and everything continues like always." He said quietly.

"I know… I know you are right, but I'm just so nervous"

"Me too, but right now, we can't do anything about it until tomorrow when we talk to them." He tightened his hold a bit and kissed her behind the ear. "Try to sleep" She snuggled closer to him and, after a while, they were asleep.

When Tara suddenly woke up, the anxiety she felt was driving her crazy, she looked at the clock on the nightstand and muffled a groan with her hands. 5 AM, the house was in complete silence and darkness, Thomas was sleeping beside her, his arm loosely on her waist, snoring a bit and she was completely awake. She sighed, carefully moved his arm and stood up, she changed into a t-shirt and some yoga pants and went to the kitchen as she tied her hair in a messy bun. If she was going to stay up at 5 in the morning she was at least going to use that time to do something. She took a few ingredients from the fridge and the cupboard and started to mixed them to make some cookies, the girls would love them and she couldn't be still, by 6 AM, she had finished cutting the cookies with a ginger man shape and put them in the oven. In a matter of minutes, the kitchen and the whole house smelled delicious. At 7:15 AM the cookies were ready, cooled and decorated, the coffee maker was ready to get started and the mix for the chocolate and the waffles were in the bowls.

"Tara? Are you here?" Thomas entered the kitchen, his eyes sleepy and his hair messy, he was putting on a t-shirt as he walked. "What are you doing up, gorgeous? It's Sunday, you should be resting." He hugged her shoulders from behind, kissing her cheek.

"I can't, I'm too anxious." She leaned against him. "I'm sorry if I woke you."

"You didn't." He took her in his arms, bridal style, and started to walk to their bedroom. "But the girls aren't going to be up for at least two hours so you come with me" She laughed and held onto his neck. They lay on the bed, quietly talking as Thomas' hand caressed her face until she fell asleep, he kissed her forehead and pulled her closer, drifting asleep as well.

The next morning, the breakfast went like always with the exception of freshly made cookies. They ate, chatted and planned the rest of the day, while the girls were finishing, Thomas took her hand under the table and cleared his throat.

"Girls, there's something we would like to talk with you about."

"And we want you to be completely honest with us, you can say whatever you are feeling or ask whatever you want." Tara's voice was gentle and even, her eyes were warm but her hands, under the table were shaking, Thomas' thumb was caressing her skin trying to calm her, to tell her he was beside her.

"We're sorry about the candies!"

"We aren't going to do it again!" Rory and Luz put on their best puppy eyes and looked at them.

"It's not about that, you thieves! Although, we are going to talk about that later." The girls looked at each other. Tara smiled, squeezing Thomas' hand, and continued talking. "We have been talking… And we want your opinion first… We would like to legally adopt you. But only if you like and agreed with it!"

"What about my dad?" Rory asked after a silent pause. In the last year she had seen Guy no more than ten times, always too busy or simply forgetting.

"It's just legal stuff, he will always be your father, but, if we do this, I'll be your legal guardian. Same for you, Lulu." Thomas said, observing both girls reaction as Tara's hand squeezed his again. Luz was serious, a thoughtful look in her eyes, she didn't seem mad just uncertain, Rory, on the other hand observed Thomas and Tara for a while until a big smile blossom on her face.

"I think it's a great idea!" She took another cookie and bit it happily. "We are going to officially be sisters!" She said, excited, watching Luz.

"Yeah, it's great." Luz said and stood up, leaving the table.

Tara felt how her heart broke and her smile disappeared, she didn't know if she should talk with Luz or give her space. Thomas kissed the side of her head and stood up too, following Luz as Rory sat beside her, hugging her mom.

When Thomas reached Luz's bedroom, she was sitting on her bed with a picture in her hands, he sat beside her and hugged her.

"Are you okay, Luz?" She nodded. "You don't have to agreed with this. We don't have to do it." He said, his eyes on the picture of Soledad hugging Luz a few months before the accident. They still had a few pictures of her around the house except in the bedroom he shared with Tara, he didn't want Luz to feel like he was forgetting her mom but he didn't want Tara to feel like she was living in Soledad's shadow.

"It's not that, I like Tara. It's just I'm scared that… someday... I might forget mom, I don't want her to feel like I'm replacing her."

"You think that I replaced mom when I married Tara?" He asked. He had talked with both girls before his proposal and they were okay with it, but right now, he was terrified of what she would answer.

"No dad! Never!" Her eyes widened and he let out a sigh of relief. "I like Tara, a lot, since she came she has been supporting and nice to me. And she makes you happy." She trailed off, smiling for a moment. "I just don't want to forget mom."

"You won't sweetheart. No one wants that to happen. Your mom will always be your mom, no matter what, and she is always going to be part of you" She hugged him.

"You think Tara got mad, for how I left?" He kissed her forehead.

"I know she's not. Tara loves you and will respect whatever you decide."

"Is Rory going to call you dad now?"

"I don't know, depends on her."

"And… should I call Tara mom?"

"That also depends on you… I know she doesn't expect it and she wants you to feel comfortable. She doesn't want to replace mom either."

"I want to do it" She smiled, happier than before, standing up. "I want Tara to adopt me"

"You sure?" She nodded enthusiastically.

They returned to the living room, where Tara was sitting on the couch with her legs on the side reading a book.

"Where is Rory?" Luz asked and Tara lifted her gaze and smiled at her.

"She went to her room, to work on her new rocket." Her voice was as warm as always.

"I… I think it's a good idea too. The adoption thing." Her cheeks a little flushed making her smile thinking of all the times she saw Thomas with his cheeks like that.

"You do? You know you are not obligated to do it, right?"

"I know. But I want to." Tara stood up and hugged Luz tightly and the girl returned the gesture.

"That makes me so happy, kiddo." They separated and Tara kissed her forehead before she went running to Rory's bedroom. Thomas took her hand and led her back to the couch.

"Are you okay?" He asked her cupping her check in his hand.

"I am now." She smiled and kissed his palm. "She really is okay with the adoption?"

"She is. I'm going to start the paperwork on Monday."

"Do you need anything from Guy or me?" She asked laying on the couch with her head on his lap as he smiled, still holding her hand.

"No. It's enough that he doesn't bother you or Rory." Tara smiled wide at him, she loved how much he cared about Rory. "That asshole. What was his excuse this time?"

"None, actually. He just wrote me that he couldn't come." She sighed. "Should I be worried that Rory is used to that?"

"I don't know, in some ways it's better. You say the word and I'll take him to the courthouse again." She chuckled softly as she sat up and kissed him, his hand took her lower back, one of her hands on his nape and the other on the couch, supporting her weight.

"What did I tell you? Super glue." They separated and observed Luz and Rory watching them. Tara giggled as Thomas' cheeks flushed immediately, no matter that they had been dating for two year and married for one, he still blushed like the first day.

"Come on, mom! We were supposed to go to that new park!"

"Okay, okay, we are coming!" She stood up and Thomas followed her, he took his car keys and they drove to the park, feeling like a family more than ever.

❣️

[thelittlesttimelord]

The Littlest Timelord: The Death of the Doctor Chapter 15

TITLE: The Littlest Timelord: The Death of the Doctor Chapter 15 PAIRING: No Pairing RATING: T CHAPTER: 15/? SUMMARY: The Doctor’s death is looming on the horizon and Elise is growing every day. What the Doctor doesn’t know is that he has 200 years to teach Elise all he knows. Amy, Rory, and River let Elise in on their secret, because River knows she will keep it. What will Elise do when he’s gone?

Loud music played through the speakers in the console.

It was some rock song that Elise had never heard by a human band she’d never heard of. Elise decided she didn’t like Rock n’ Roll.

Amy and Rory played darts while Elise was sitting on the stairs sketching Idris while the Doctor stood in front of the monitor.

“Forty six. Rubbishy, rubbishy, rubbish,” Amy told Rory.

Elise rolled her eyes. She’d never understand human games. She and the Doctor played football sometimes when the Ponds were sleeping and she wasn’t too tired.

“Hello? It's a double top,” Rory argued.

“Wrong side of the wire, mister.”

“You're on the oche, Red.”

The music abruptly cut off.

“Who wants fish and chips?” the Doctor asked.

Rory raised his hand. “I'll drop you both off. Take your time. Don't rush.”

“Er, and you?” Rory asked.

Elise had once again been forgotten. Maybe she needed to speak up more.

“Things to do. Things involving other things.”

“Well, we'll stay with you. We'll do the other things,” Amy said, joining the Doctor on the platform.

“Nope.”

“Whatever you're up to, I'd personally like to be a part of it.”

The Doctor looked at her apprehensively.

“What?”

An alarm went off and the TARDIS lurched.

Elise was thrown from stairs. The Doctor grabbed her before her face could slam into the console.

“Solar tsunami. Came directly from your sun. A tidal wave of radiation. Big, big, big.”

The Doctor pulled levers as he tried to direct the TARDIS.

“Oh Doctor, my tummy's going funny,” Rory moaned.

“Well, the gyrator disconnected. Target tracking is out. Assume the position!”

“What does that mean?!” Elise yelled.

“Do I what do,” Amy told her. Amy ran to the jump seat and put her head between her knees.

Elise copied her.

Rory knelt down on the platform and did the same.

The TARDIS landed and everything was quiet.

The Doctor jumped up. “Textbook landing.”

They made their way to the TARIDS doors and the Doctor threw them open. “Behold, a cockerel! Love a cockerel.”

They all stepped out.

“And underneath, a monastery. Thirteenth century.”

“Oh, we've gone all medieval,” Amy commented.

“I'm not sure about that,” Rory told her.

“Really? Medieval expert are you?”

“No, it's just that I can hear Dusty Springfield.”

There was indeed music coming from the monastery.

The Doctor knelt beside a hole with an exposed pipe. “These fissures are new. Solar tsunami sent out a huge wave of gamma particles. This is caused by a magnetic quake that occurs just before the wave hits.”

“Well, the monastery's standing,” Amy said.

The Doctor took a snowglobe out of his jacket and shook it. Elise failed to see how that helped anything. “Yeah, for now.”

“Doctor, look,” Rory told him.

“Yeah. It's a supply pipe.” The Doctor scanned it with his screwdriver. “Ceramic inner lining. Something corrosive. They're pumping something nasty off this island to the mainland.”

“My mum's a massive fan of Dusty Springfield,” Rory commented.

“Who isn't? Right, let's go. Satisfy our rabid curiosity.”

The Doctor and Amy took off for the steps leading to the monastery. Rory and Elise cautiously followed after them. The steps led to a courtyard.

“So where are these Dusty Springfield loving monks, then?” Amy asked as the Doctor scanned their surroundings.

“I think we're here. This is it.”

“Doctor, what are you talking about? We've never been here before.” Rory said.

“Hmm?”

“We came here by accident?” Amy reminded him.

The Doctor turned to face them. “Accident? Yes, I know. Accident.”

Rory reached out to touch one of the pipes, only to yank his hand back. “Ow!”

“Acid. They're pumping acid off this island. That's old stuff,” the Doctor reassured him, “Fresh acid, you wouldn't have a finger.”

Amy inspected Rory’s hand as the Doctor walked off.

“Intruder alert. Intruder alert.”

The Doctor walked back to them. “There are people coming. Well, almost.”

“Almost coming?” Amy asked.

“Almost people.”

Amy and the Doctor ran off.

“I think we should really be going,” Rory said.

Elise nodded, agreeing with him.

“Come on!” Amy yelled.

“I'm telling you. When something runs towards you, it is never for a nice reason.”

Amy grabbed onto his jacket, pulling him after her.

Elise ran to catch up with them.

They ran into a room full of people in harnesses.

“What are all these harnesses for?” Amy asked.

“The almost people?” Rory guessed.

“What are they, prisoners, or are they meditating, or what?”

“Well, at the moment they fall into the “or” what category,” the Doctor told them.

“Halt and remain calm.”

“Well, we've halted. How are we all doing on the calm front?”

A group of people, the same people in the harnesses, came running into the room. They were all brandishing spears of some kind.

“Don't move!” a man told them.

“Stay back, Jen. We don't know who they are,” another said.

“So let's ask them. Who the hell are you?” Jen asked.

“Well, I'm the Doctor, and this is Amy, Elise, and Rory, and it's all very nice, isn't it?”

“Hold up. You're all. What are you all? Like identical twins?” Amy asked them.

Two people in odd looking suits came down a set of stairs.

“This is an Alpha Grade industrial facility. Unless you work for the military or for Morpeth Jetson, you are in big trouble,” the woman said. She seemed to be in charge.

“Actually, you're in big trouble,” the Doctor said, pulling out his psychic paper.

The woman snatched it out of his hand.

“Meteorological Department? Since when?”

“Since you were hit by a solar wave.”

“Which we survived.”

“Just, by the look of it. And there's a bigger one on the way.”

“Which we'll also survive. Dicken, scan for bugs.”

“Backs against the wall. Now,” one of the men in the orange suits said.

The Doctor, Elise, Amy, and Rory did as they said.

“You're not a monastery, you're a factory. Twenty second century army-owned factory,” the Doctor said.

“You're army?” Amy asked.

Elise smirked as she remembered Amy in Churchill’s bunker.

“No, love. We're contractors, and you're trespassers,” the woman said.

“It's clear, boss,” Dicken told her.

“All right, weatherman, your ID checks out.” She held out the psychic paper as the Doctor came towards her. “If there's another solar storm, what are you going to do about it? Hand out sunblock?”

The Doctor took it from her and laughed. “I need to see your critical systems.”

“Which one?”

“You know which one.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The woman, named Cleaves, led them into room with a vat full of a milky white substance.

“And there you are,” the Doctor said, wonder in his voice.

“Meet the government's worst kept secret,” Cleaves said, “The Flesh. It's fully programmable matter. In fact, it's even learning to replicate itself at the cellular level.”

“Right. Brilliant. Lost,” Amy said.

“Okay. Once a reading's been taken, we can manipulate its molecular structure into anything. Replicate a living organism down to the hairs on its chinny chin chin. Even clothes. And everything's identical. Eyes, voice…”

“Mind, soul?” the Doctor added.

Elise’s eyes met his. She narrowed them, wondering what he was up to. What was he thinking? She knew by the way he was acting that they hadn’t landed there by accident. An idea hit Elise. Was this to do with Amy? She’d seen the Doctor scanning Amy for pregnancy, but the monitor couldn’t make up its mind.

“Don't be fooled, Doctor. It acts like life but it still needs to be controlled by us, from those harnesses you saw,” Cleaves told him.

“Wait, whoa. Hold it. So, you're Flesh now?” Rory asked.

“I'm lying in a harness back in that chamber. We all are, except Jennifer here. Don't be scared. This thing, just like operating a forklift truck.”

“You said it could grow. Only living things grow,” the Doctor said.

“Moss grows. It's no more than that. This acid is so dangerous we were losing a worker every week. So now we mine the acid using these doppelgangers. Or Gangers,” Cleaves explained, “If these bodies get burnt or fall in the acid…”

“Then who the hell cares, right, Jen?” Buzzer, one of the men, asked.

“Nerve endings automatically cut off like airbags being discharged. We wake up and get a new Ganger,” Jennifer said.

Rory nodded, understanding.

“It's weird, but you get used to it,” the other man, Jimmy, commented.

“Jennifer, I want you in your Ganger. Get back to the harness,” Cleaves ordered.

Jennifer left as the Doctor scanned the Flesh.

“Hang on, what's he up to? What you up to, pal?” Buzzer asked.

“Stop it.” The Doctor jerked his hand back and pocketed his screwdriver. “Strange. It was like for a moment there it was scanning me.” He placed his hand on the surface.

“Doctor…Get back, Doctor! Leave it alone,” Cleaves told him.

He finally pulled his hand back. “I understand.”

“Doctor? Are you all right?” Amy asked.

“Incredible. You have no idea. No idea. I mean, I felt it in my mind. I reached out to it, and it to me.”

“Don't fiddle with the money, Doctor,” Cleaves said, her tone patronizing.

“How can you be so blinkered? It's alive. So alive.”

It finally dawned on Elise.

“You're piling your lives, your personalities directly into it.”

There was flash from outside and the monastery shook.

“It's the solar storm. The first waves come in pairs. Pre-shock and fore-shock. It's close,” the Doctor said.

“Buzzer, we got anything from the mainland yet?” Cleaves asked.

“No, the comms are still too jammed with radiation.”

“Okay. Then we'll keep pumping acid until the mainland says stop. Now why don't you stand back and let us impress you?”

Elise did not like Cleaves one bit.

[goattales]

Overdue Intro!

Hi! My name for all intents and purposes is Goat, and this is my little slice inside of the male reader side of reader inserts! I take both fic and headcanon requests and I write for a huge variety of shows, but there’s more than listed bellow so if you’re curious about another show or a specific character, just drop an ask and I’ll let you know if I’ll write for them! I will write NS//FW stuff so I would prefer to keep this blog 18+, but at the end of the day if minors follow it’s at their discretion, however I would like to at least have everyone be over 16, please. Much like a couple other male reader blogs do Sinful Sunday, I’m gonna be doing Thirsty Thursday, which is a free-for-all thirst-fest for you to come and confess your deepest, darkest, dirtiest, thoughts to me, and maybe I can thirst along? But anyways! The shows and characters I write for are under the cut, cause this post got long, so feel free to click ‘read more’ and decide if you wanna stick around!

Shows/Characters I write for-

Peaky Blinders -Tommy Shelby -John Shelby

Glee -Sam Evans -Finn Hudson -Blaine Anderson -Will Schuster -Rory Flanagan

Divergent -Four/Tobias Eaton -Eric -Peter Hayes

Teen Wolf -Isaac Lahey -Stiles Stilinski -Danny Mahealani -Ethan Steiner -Aiden Steiner -Derek Hale -Peter Hale -Melissa McCall -Scott McCall

Midnight Texas -Bobo Winthrop -Manfred Bernardo -Joe Strong -Chuy Strong -Fiji Cavanaugh -Olivia Clarity -Lemuel Bridger

The Resident -Conrad Hawkins -Devon Pravesh -Mina Okafor

Chicago Fire -Matthew Casey -Kelly Severide -Brian Zvonecek -Joe Cruz -Christopher Herrmann -Peter Mills

Chicago PD -Jay Halstead -Adam Ruzek -Antonio Dawson -Kevin Atwater -Kim Burgess

House MD -Robert Chase

New Amsterdam -Max Goodwin -Maybe Floyd Reynolds (still not sure of his characterisation) -Helen Sharpe

Shadowhunters -Alec Lightwood -Jace (pick your fave last name tbh) -Magnus Bane -Simon Lewis -Luke Garroway -Raphael Santiago

Hemlock Grove -Peter Rumancek -Roman Godfrey

The Umbrella Academy -Klaus -Diego -Vanya

Shameless US -Lip Gallagher -Steve Wilton/Jimmy Lishman -Tony Markovich -Mickey Milkovich (Season 3 upwards) -Ian Gallagher (Season 3 upwards) -Kevin Ball

13 Reasons Why -Tony Padilla -Clay Jensen -Justin Foley -Tyler Down -Alex Standall -Zach Dempsey

Bones -Seeley Booth -Jack Hodgins -Temperance Brennan -Lance Sweets -Zack Addy -Angela Montenegro

Twilight -Jasper Hale -Emmett Cullen -Edward Cullen -Carlisle Cullen -Esme Cullen -Jacob Black (Breaking Dawn Onwards) -Sam Uley -Charlie Swan -Paul Lahote (Breaking Dawn Onwards)

Scorpion -Sylvester Dodd -Toby Curtis -Happy Quinn -Walter O’Brien

Stranger Things Steve Harrington Billy Hargrove Johnathan Byers

[wolfgangarcturus-blog]

What? Who Wants To Know?

              @dxrkchiild said:                                                                      2, 6, 18, 22, 34, 35, 40            

2. How much physical space do they use, active and at rest?

Aggressiveness and indolence take up a lot of space. Pacing, brawling, striding while learning, correcting. Large bedroom... large bed. His chosen manor house has a patio out to the forest beyond.

6. What are they like in motion–in different environments, and in different activities? What causes the differences between these?

Humans are skittish so he has to walk slow and calm around them in the marketplace. In his own private office, he will pace and growl and throw up his arms while trying to get through the huge stack of papers that Kellen always seems to find lying around for him to review and/or sign off on. With Reg, in private... mostly aggressive, toothy, straining... but also tender and slow sometimes.

18. What kind of person could they become in the future? What are some developmental paths that they could take, (best, worst, most likely?) what would cause them to come to pass, and what consequences might they have? What paths would you especially like to see, and why?

Argh! More of this big picture crap... *flops sullenly onto throne*... Regardless of how I feel about Wolfie, I don’t know exactly how much of a future he has. The world is changing around him and he really isn’t equipped to do much more than see it birthed and take the long walk, leaving it in the hands of those who know what hope and dream mean. He is so soaked in blood that there isn’t a place for him in it. *Scratches head*... I guess the gentlest future he could have is abdicate his throne to someone who had the strength AND heart to rule it then go off into the wilds with Reg and find some abandoned hunting lodge. Maybe play music and make love until dawn and watch the sun rise.

22. How do people respond to them, and why might these responses differ?

Children do not care... freaks me out honestly. Adult humans... big space around Mr. Bloody. Upyr are all about ‘look at the dog’ and sneer. *flips them off*. Vamps close to him are respectful in their own way, same with most of the vamp citizens except for a few that are angry about the conditions or situations. Back home... that is a whole other thing. Shifting alliances between Blood Lords, within Blood Lord households... wars with the upyr... I suppose it varies from day to day... or really year to year because of our languid malaise regarding an infinite unchanging life.

34. How do they understand the world–what kind of worldview and thought processes do they have? Why?

Huh... How does Wolfie see the world? Prey and predator is the basic element for his existence. Even before he became king, before Rory and her endless hope for the future, he was slightly different that his brothers. He could see the shades of gray in the rivers of blood that ruled the vampire kingdom, see the variations in power beyond those of the fist, and that lent him the ability to grasp what Ayanna was proposing, if only the merest hint. He is all about using strength, in whatever form, to force submission, to force obedience... more stick than carrot. He indulges those who have less power, less strength.

35. How and why do they internalize knowledge? What effect has that had on them?

Internalize knowledge? You mean, like, learn shit? Arcturus made him learn to read... When he was alive, he knew how to read and make maps using symbols but the bastard forced him to sit and learn. It wasn’t until he read some classic books on war theory that he began to think beyond his physical strength. Kellen ever at his ear, whispering potential courses of action, suggesting... molding him to be different than his brothers, better than them. This reliance on more than his fists, exposure to ideas regarding conservation, resource management, and extinction events, influenced his decision to even entertain the concept of Sanctuary.

40. What do they wonder about? What sparks their curiosity and imagination, and why? How is this expressed, if it is?

Wonder? What for? The world is what it is and he is in charge of his own piece of it. The only reason he hasn’t pressed his people to conquer more territory and enslave more humans to breed and feed upon is that he knows that, without a reliable communications network, his command would fade before reaching the borders of his expanded territory. Those Blood Lords on the fringe could turn and then he’d have enemies hemming him in, denying him resources. Plus, free range humans added to the stable populations of his slave district keeps the population healthy. But I digress... No, he has little to no curiosity and only enough imagination to dimly see a doomed future. And that is total bullshit... He has curiosity regarding war, both waging it and preventing it until he can win with minimal acceptable losses.

@ailes-de-fleurs said:                                                                      5, 8, 16, 24, 30, 41            

5. How do they dress? What styles, colors, accessories, and other possessions do they favor? Why?

Not a fop like Gabe (:P). Simple jeans or canvas or wool pants; boots if only to minimize damage to his feet and ankles; plain white or one color shirts; maybe a cloak if he thinks he might need to be hidden or if he is out near dawn or just around dusk. Not a big jewelry fan. Single word... utilitarian.

8. Where and when do they seem most and least at ease? Why? How can you tell?

At ease? In his own manor house, either with Reg in their basement bedroom or in the “throne room” with a roaring fire and surrounded by his hunters, celebrating. Least at ease... dealing with the upyr on their own turf. He throws caution to the wind by walking unescorted, unsupervised, unguarded, into the heart of their district, knowing that at any moment, a pack of ghouls could decide to take him out, regardless of what Gabe wants.

16. Do they dream? What are those dreams like?Uh, I don’t even know if vampires dream... do they? ADMIN HELP, LOL!

24. How do they present themselves socially? What distinguishes their “persona” from their “true self”, and what causes that difference?

He is what he is... there is no “persona”... he has no need to hide his true self... well, maybe his old true self... *rubs face and looks at Rory and Reg*... The world is changing him in ways he’s not exactly comfortable with. Maybe he started making children too soon... before the human memories and emotions faded... before the guilt faded... maybe that colored his choices and perceptions and made him vulnerable to these strange ideas.

30. What is their preferred level of activity and stimulation? How do they cope if they get either too little or too much?

He hates sitting behind a desk. He either is happy around a fire pit, feasting and music and boasting... maybe a brawl or two or on a hunt or alone with Reginmund. Even if he has to plow through the paperwork, he has to get up and pace. He gets cranky if he is stuck sitting for a long period of time.

41. What associations do they bring to mind? Words or phrases, images, metaphors or motifs? Why?

@bloodydavvn said:                                                                      1; 7; 15; 18; 21; 35; 38; 41            

1. How do they move and carry themselves? Pace, rhythm, gestures, energy?

Back in the vampire homeland, Wolfgang really only had two speeds; aggressive and indolent (Milena ends up reinforcing both because we all know it suits her needs as a way to watch him dance on her strings)... since being at Sanctuary, while having to represent his species, he’s been forced to learn controlled calm (dealing with Ayanna and Kellen, mostly, because Ayanna calls him on his bullshit and Kellen councils him on caution and patience)... and also ended up learning softness and regret (thanks to Rory and amplified and rewarded by Reg).

7. How do they physically engage with other people, inanimate objects, and their environment? What causes the differences between these?

With his own blood born, in public, if he needs them to be calm, he will lay hands on them to sooth them or direct their attention to him for guidance. He might pat the shoulders of his hunters. Everyone else, no touching... well, except to taunt Milena... yeah, that ends just as you expect it. Lately, he’s been affectionate with Reg in public... damn human influence. It would be considered almost admitting a weakness if were back home. Objects? He picks it up, uses it then forgets it exists.

15. What kind of inner life do they have — rich and imaginative? Calculating and practical? Full of doubts and fears? Does it find any sort of outlet in their lives?

Inner life? Wolfgang? Are you kidding me? Vampires DO NOT self-reflect... well, at least he didn’t... *sucks lip* until he came here. This is some straight up bullshit here. He is not built for world shaping, big picture, survival of the species shit. Play a little politics, beat an uppity Blood Lord down, just to keep control of the kingdom, sure... but this stuff? Already making him think about impacts of his decisions, be soft and concerned about his children, PAH! *Wolfgang throws up his hands and walks out.*

18. See above :)

21. What kind of relationships do they tend to intentionally seek out versus actually cultivate? What kind of social contact do they prefer, and why?

What is this bull? Relationships? I’m the BLOOD KING. I’ve got my lover, my children, my hunters... my blood side piece... sigh, what is it Kellen?... Crap, is it time for ANOTHER tribunal meeting... fuck, why did Gabe bring Milena? Yes, Ayanna... I’ll play nice.

35. See above the above :)

38. Is there anything they wish they could change about their worldview or thought processes? What, and why?

Not particularly, Wolfgang pretty much likes himself just the way he is. He may not feel the future the way that Rory and Reg do... to be honest, he’s more like Ragar at times... but he’s here to stem the bleed and he’s got zero bedside manner for the recovery.

[robininthelabyrinth]

The Fox Came Back (the very next day)

Fic: The Fox Came Back (the very next day) - ao3 link (direct) Fandom: Flash, Legends of Tomorrow Pairing: Mick Rory/Leonard Snart

Summary: Leonard Snart always comes back - always. Even when you don't want him to. 

Make that especially when you don't want him to (but sometimes, just sometimes, when you really do).

(a songfic to 'The Cat Came Back')

A/N: for @oneiriad's Coldwave Creature AU Bingo Board. A rather old fic which lingered half-done for a very long time. Finally decided to finish it and post it.

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Old Mister Johnson had troubles of his own, he had a yellow cat which wouldn't leave its home

If he'd known, Mick would've kept right on minding his own damn business.

But he didn't know.

So when he sees the six boys beating on a small new one, who was writhing and yowling like some sort of demented cat, he wades right in. He never liked bullies.

"Rory, what the hell?" one snarls. He holds his ground - there's something pinned under his foot, though Mick can't tell what. "Leave us be."

"No," Mick says, and decks him hard enough to knock him back on his ass.

After that, they all run, which is slightly confusing - six against one (one and a half, if Mick's feeling generous about the shrimp he just broke his much valued neutrality to defend) is pretty good odds, but they don't even try, they just retreat.

Mick's a little put out about it; he'd been anticipating a decent fight, at least.

"You saved me," the kid behind him says.

Oh, jeez.

"Don't take it personally," Mick says to him. The kid's covered in bruises and bleeding like a stuck pig from a cut to the head. "I just wanted to fight. You need the nurse?"

"No," the kid says. "Also, you're lying."

"Well, you're going to the nurse anyway," Mick tells him, since the question had been rhetorical, and also ignoring the kid's too-knowing gaze. "No point dying from a concussion instead of a shiv."

"I ain’t gonna die from something like this! Do you even know how old I am..?"

"Whatever."

Mick doesn't care. Mick scoops the kid up and takes him to the nurse. The kid chatters and complains the whole damn time, but Mick ignores him.

Mick leaves him there with a feeling of relief and goes back to his regular routine of keeping his head down and trying to avoid trouble. He's almost expecting something from the gang he fought, but they seem to have decided to pretend that nothing happened - he even hears one of them swear that he got that shiner trying to climb the wall of the center in some sort of escape attempt.

That would be that, expect the very next day, the kid manages to get out of the nurse's office - Mick wasn't expecting that to happen for a few days, depending on how much of a target the adults decided he was - and comes right up to Mick during the midday break.

"You saved me," he says again. "I will give you payment."

"Don't want your payment," Mick grunts.

The kid scowls. He's got what Mick's ma used to call a fox-face - long and narrow and sneaky, with big old eyes and a nice set of cheekbones. Face like that's made for trouble, and Mick doesn't want trouble. He wants to get out of juvie, back to where he can have his lighter with him all the time.

"Will this do?" the kid asks, and he's holding out a roll of bills.

It's more cash than Mick's ever seen.

"Are you fucking crazy?" Mick demands. "Don't flash that around - you'll get your ass killed, not just beaten."

"You don't want money?"

"No! What's it gonna buy me in here, anyway?"

The kid frowns. "What do you want, then?"

"Go away, kid."

The kid leaves, but the very next day Mick wakes up at dawn - an old habit from the farm that he can't seem to break - and finds the kid's somehow made it into his goddamn bed.

"What the fuck," Mick says. They aren't even assigned to the same wing.

"You saved me," the kid - whose name Mick still doesn't know - says, with a knowing smile, almost a leer. "You should get payment."

"Oh, hell no," Mick says, because maybe he's a murderer like they all said back at home after the fire but at least he ain't a kid-toucher - even if the kid in question is only two years younger than him, thirteen-fourteen is just way too young - and then he shoves the kid right out of the bed.

The kid looks hilariously affronted.

"Go away, kid," Mick tells him. "I don't want your payment."

"Am I not attractive to you?" the kid asks, looking annoyed. "Do you prefer females?"

"First - my sexuality ain't any of your business. Second - don't call them 'females', that's just rude. They're women. Or girls, I guess, at your age. Now get out of here before one of the teachers does inspection and gets both of us – mostly me – in trouble."

The kid stalks off in a huff.

The very next day, he shows up with a real honest-to-god hamburger. "As payment," he suggests.

"No!" Mick exclaims, because damnit if the kid isn't stubborn as a mule. Normally, Mick would literally stab someone for a hamburger, but he doesn't want this kid to get the wrong idea about any more of this payment business.

Not least because he is kinda cute. Still, no.

One of the other kids ends up eating it and he gets sick later, so it's for the best anyway.

The very next day, the kid is back again.

"You don't give up easy, do you?" Mick asks him.

The kid pulls his clenched fist out of his pocket. "As payment?" he says hopefully, and offers his hand to Mick.

It's a lighter.

"You know what I did with one of those?" Mick asks, lips suddenly dry. "People died."

"Take it, then. As payment. You want it."

"I want to get out of here more," Mick says, albeit with difficulty. It’s hard to resist temptation. It's so hard. "I get caught with one of these, I get another few months, maybe more. I get out, I can have all the ones I want."

"You need to take payment," the kid insists.

"I keep telling you," Mick says. "I don't want your payment, and certainly not for something that I'd've done anyway. Take your 'payment' and shove it."

He turns away.

The kid watches him for a few long minutes, looking contemplative.

"Go!" Mick roars.

The kid goes, but reluctantly.

The very next day, he's back.

"No," Mick says the second he sees him.

The kid raises his eyebrows.

"Whatever new payment you have in mind, I don't want it," Mick clarifies.

"Not a payment," the kid says. "A gift. Will you take that?"

Mick can't help a passing moment of curiosity. If that other stuff was payment, what the hell is a gift?

"I'll hear you out," he says warily.

"My name is Leonard Snart," the kid says. "Name me, and I'll stand by your side forever."

"I don't want you," Mick complains. But he's got to admit, Leonard is a terrible name; real old-fashioned. And Snart? Jeez.

"The last suggestion was 'Leo'," the kid muses.

Jesus Christ.

"You ain't a Leo," Mick says. "You're more of a - I don't know. A Len. Lenny. Yeah. That works. Len. S’a decent name."

"That does seem better," the kid agrees.

"No kidding. But I'm serious, Len, I don't think you need to pay me -"

Mick's voice fades away, because the kid - Len - is smiling. It's a very broad smile, filled with sharp teeth, and some belated instinct runs up and down Mick's spine with warning.

"You've named me," Len says happily. "You've accepted my gift."

"Seems more like me gifting you," Mick says, suddenly wary. But it's too late.

"I'll stand by you forever," Len says, and his smile goes even wider, which shouldn't be possible. Mouths don't do that, not normal ones. "Whether you want me to or not."

Mick should've taken the hamburger. Or the lighter.

He'll have plenty of time for regret. But at that moment, all he knows is that he's made a terrible mistake.

He tried and he tried to give the cat away, he gave it to a man goin' far, far away.

Mick wakes up later than usual. It's his first full day back, so to speak, and the chores hadn't been rearranged to include him yet, so his newest foster mom had told him he could sleep in as a special treat, her voice clearly indicating that he ought to be grateful for it - and that he'd be paying back that special treat for the next few months.

So he just lays in bed for a bit, enjoying having a moment entirely to himself.

He didn't much like this foster mom, or this house, but he was happy to be here for at least one reason: he'd be free of that goddamn pest who followed him around everywhere -

"You’re a bit of a slug-a-bed when you're at home, huh? Wouldn't've guessed."

Mick's eyes snap open and he sits straight up. Len - who had at least another month on his juvie stay according to his paperwork, Mick had checked - is perched on the end of his bed.

"Get out!" Mick roars.

Len makes a face at him and hops off the bed. "You're so pissy in the mornings," he says, rolling his eyes and sauntering away. "So annoying."

Mick closes his eyes. He's having a nightmare. That's all.

He wishes he could believe it.

"Michael?" his foster mom says, poking her head into the room, with at least two of the little monsters that called themselves his foster siblings hovering behind her. Hoping he was going to get in trouble, no doubt. "What were you hollering about?"

"Len," Mick says grimly.

"What?"

"A friend -" he uses the term lightly "- of mine from juvie. He's followed me home."

"Don't be absurd, Michael," his foster mom says. "There's nobody here. You were dreaming."

"I wish."

"But since you're awake..."

Mick scowls but gets out of bed to go help with the chores.

Four days later, his foster mom's had enough. "Michael," she snaps. "Stop talking about your friend! He's not here. You've clearly started hallucinating, so I've set you up with a shrink on Monday -"

"I'm not hallucinating!"

"There is no 'Len'!" she exclaims. "There's no such boy here, do you understand me?"

"Now that's just hurtful," Len says from where he's suddenly sitting on the counter right behind her, and she leaps a good foot in the air.

Mick has to hide a smile at that.

Unfortunately, that just sets her off. "Is this some sort of prank?" she yells. "You think if you pretend to be seeing him, I'll let him stay or something? Well, mister, you've got another thing coming. When Joey gets back, you're gonna have your ass tanned halfway -"

"No, he's not," Len says, reaching for a celery stick and snapping one between his teeth. "Or else your precious husband Joey's not getting back from work today."

"What?"

"I belong with Mick, now," Len tells her, and smiles. It's not a nice smile. "I'm not going anywhere."

"You -"

Len hops off the counter. "Nice home you have here, Mrs. Gorren. Awful shame if you lost it."

He wanders out the door, shutting it behind him.

She storms after him and yanks it open, saying, "Now listen here, you -"

Nobody's there.

"What?" she asks, shocked. "How..?"

"Don't worry," Mick says mournfully. "He'll be back tomorrow. He always is."

But the cat came back the very next day, the cat came back, we thought he was a goner, but the cat came back; it just couldn't stay away.

“Maybe you could bother one of them,” Mick suggests, sitting at the edge of the park bench. Len is beside him, as always.

“Why would I?” Len replies. “I have you.”

"I don't even like you," Mick tells him.

Len shrugs. This evidentially bothered him not at all.

"Listen, I don't like hitting kids, but you're getting real close to me just beating your ass to make you go away."

Len smiles.

"...what?"

"If you were going to do that, you'd've done it already."

"I'm waiting for you to grow up s'all. Don't like hitting kids."

"You beat up those boys in juvie."

"Yeah, well. They weren't as shrimpy as you."

"I'm 500 years old," Len says. "You don't need to worry that much."

"...don't say things like that."

Len's smile goes distinctively inhuman.

Mick shudders. "I'm going to kill you one day," he tells Len. It's not even a threat, it's a fact of life. Mick kills everything he touches.

"Probably," Len says cheerfully.

"Are you sure you don't want someone else?" Mick asks. "I could set something up."

Len laughs.

Mick tries to ditch him at the mall, ducking through doors and under counters until he sees Len in the distance, looking confused and slightly annoyed. It doesn't work, though. Len knows where he lives.

Even when Mick got abruptly moved between foster homes, because Mrs. Gorren couldn't take the weirdness anymore and drives four counties over to drop him off.

Len still came back.

Len always comes back.

The man around the corner swore he'd kill the cat on sight, he loaded up his shotgun with nails and dynamite;

The first time Mick thinks he's lost Len for good is on a mob job.

He knows he shouldn't have taken it - it's the goddamn mob, the Families, the parasite on the soul of Central - but like so many before him, he can't resist the offer they dangle before him. Set a few fires and make more money on a single job than ever before? Earn fear from those around you, seeing as you can't get respect? Sign Mick the hell up.

He’s young and stupid, okay? He’s eighteen and on his own for the first time.

He makes dumb decisions.

And, almost inevitably, it goes wrong.

Not the first job, but the second.

"Fuck no, I'm not taking the fall for this!" Mick exclaims. "Cops are minutes away - there's enough time to run."

"But if they don't find who did it, they'll keep looking," Ricky Vargas, local enforcer for the Keystone Dabryinians, says. His voice is steady. The gun he has aimed at Mick is steady, too. "Better for them to already have someone in custody. Then they won't dig too hard and find traces of our presence here."

"I got arson priors from juvie," Mick says through gritted teeth. "I'll go down for a long time - lot longer than any of the others. Send one of them."

"They've been with us longer," Ricky says. "Sorry, but that's the way it is."

"But -"

"We'll take care of you in there," Ricky says. "You'll be respected. And we'll take care of your family out here."

Mick bares his teeth. "Rehearsed that, didn't you?" he says bitterly. "Except for one thing - I don't got no family, and I don't want your protection."

"Then maybe I should shoot you now to keep you from turning on us," Ricky says, and Mick can tell he likes the idea. He's itching to do it. Wants an execution on his record; he knows that until he's a blooded man, he won't move up, but there's been nothing for it recently.

"That seems like a foolish move," Len says from behind Ricky.

Mick and Ricky both jump, since Mick would have sworn Len wasn't there a second ago.

"Who the hell are you?" Rick shouts.

"Lenny, get the hell out of here!" Mick exclaims at the same time.

Ricky's eyes shoot to him. "You brought a buddy to a job?"

"I didn't! And he's not -" the denial fades on Mick's tongue, since buddy or not, Len was still here for him. "Len, go away."

Len arches his eyebrows. "Has that ever worked?"

"Len, I'm serious. This is serious. Just go and -"

"No, stay," Ricky says, his eyes lighting up. "Both of you can take the fall -"

"Don't you dare bring him into this -" Mick snaps, turning to Ricky.

"You're the one who brought him!" Ricky snaps back, turning back to face Mick with the gun. All his boys follow his lead, staring at Mick. Mick hopes Len is smart enough to take the opportunity and run, but he doubts it.

"I'm telling you -"

"Maybe I'll take him with me," Ricky says. "And then I'll shoot him if you don't agree to -"

"No, that won't work," Len says from Ricky's blind spot, all the way on the other side of the warehouse from where he started.

Ricky startles badly this time. As he spins to see who it is, his finger slips on the trigger. Point-blank range.

The shot is loud and echoing.

Mick thinks it'll go on forever.

He always knew he’d be the death of Len. He’s death to everyone he’s ever around. He just hadn’t realized it’d be so soon.

"Shots fired!" a voice shouts from the outside. "Get them!"

"The cops!" one of Ricky's men hisses. "That means they're gonna open fire!"

They all scatter.

Even Mick, to his shame.

He leaves Lenny's body lying there with nothing but promises that he'll come to retrieve it later.

He goes to the crappy little apartment he lives in, now. He sits on the bed and puts his head in his hands. He promises himself he’ll never work another mob job, as long as he lives.

Not even fire helps, that night.

After long enough, exhaustion pulls him to sleep, and he dreams troubled dreams.

Mick opens his eyes the next morning, staring straight at the ceiling.

He doesn’t know what to do.

He guesses he should get up.

But he doesn’t know what to do, waking up alone, alone and without an annoying voice there to ask –

“So, what’s for breakfast?”

Mick sits bolt upright. “Len?!”

Len is perched on the dresser, one of his favorite places, playing with the chess pieces Mick bought for a quarter at a garage sale just so Len would stop taking his pens. “What?”

Mick gapes.

Len looks up after a second, blinking. “What, Mick?”

“You’re – you’re back.”

“Of course,” Len says. “I’m yours. I’ll always be by your side.”

Mick covers his face and groans.

“Just so you know,” he says pleasantly, “now the mob’s gonna come kill us both.”

Len arches his eyebrows. “You mean,” he says, “that they’re gonna try.”

He waited and he waited for the cat to come around, ninety seven pieces of the man is all they found.

It’s not so much that they try so much as they fail miserably.

It’s probably a good thing that Mick swore off of ever working with the Families again, because…wow.

Mick spends a decent amount of time in the library, looking up - and then reading it, a slow and painful eternity, damn his dyslexic eyes – information about whatever the hell it is that Len is. It’s hard to figure out (apparently library searches don’t really respond well to “annoying probably supernatural asshole kids that don’t leave me alone”, even with the aid of a friendly librarian), but he manages it in the end, with the help of said friendly librarian who manages to piece together all the hints Mick’s been able to identify and come up with some answers.

It’s the fox-face that gives him away, in the end, and the distinction between payment, which is worthless, and a gift, which is priceless, at least in theory. And one small extra hint, too: five hundred years, Len told him once, and Mick woke up one day after a particularly bad anxiety attack, where he lit fires and fires and fires and burned himself and cried but nothing made it stop but Len covering him with five warm fur tails and letting him sleep under their protection, and after that the librarian had asked if maybe he thought he was describing a fox.

A fox spirit, anyway.

Kitsune.

That’s their most famous name, anyway; the Japanese call them that and know the most about them, though it turns out they live in all different sort of places, all over the world.

The name seems like it fits, and the more Mick reads or hears, the more it seems like it’s the case. Mick even calls some professors, some museums, that sorta stuff. Total nerd stuff, but it’s worth it to learn what he can about the creature that follows him and protects him and annoys the living daylights out of him.

Kitsune are notorious tricksters - he knew that.

They can live for hundreds of years - knew that too.

It rained in sunlight when they got married - didn't know that, but not all that surprising the way Len scampers around like a demented gerbil when it's raining.

They can take on human form, and take humans as lover – Mick…doesn’t know what to do with that, so he very pointedly just doesn’t think about it.

They have a particular fondness for rice – Mick’d figured that one out by sheer process of elimination, so, yeah, he knew that.

They're fucking monsters when they’re crossed.

Yeah, Mick kinda knew that, too.

Family enforcers find themselves in cars filled with drugs right before the police and media find them, usually sitting right next to their corrupt politician contact of choice, and maybe the police would've let them go but the newspapers never will. Bad luck - except that each and every one of 'em swears that the last they remember is going to sleep in their own beds at home, and their wives or husbands all agree.

Doesn't matter, of course. The prosecutors can see the media fixing up a fire under their tail and with this much evidence, they've got to convict.

Those are the lucky ones.

The less lucky check themselves into mental hospitals, unable to sleep because of a fox at the corner of their eye, stalking 'em all the time, a fox that causes accidents and chaos wherever they go.

The less lucky still wake up in enemy territory, confused and lost and unarmed.

The least lucky get found floating in the river the next day, clawed up as if by a wild animal.

"Why them?" Mick asks, staring at the news. It's a handful - a Don, a lieutenant, a few enforcers, a few goods. Ricky.

"They were behind the attempts to hurt you," Len purrs in his ear. He's curled up on the other side of the couch in one of his untouchable moods, though he looks like he's considering demanding either pats on the head or food sometime soon.

Mick remembers reading somewhere that foxes were cat software running on dog hardware, and that saying taught him more than anything else has about the feeding and care and management of rogue kitsune.

Even ones claiming to be centuries old.

(At least he's not still looking like he's thirteen. Apparently, kitsune age like humans and start over at the century mark, with Len having just started a brand new century two decades ago. He looks just a little younger than Mick.)

"You know they barely even remember that job now, right?" Mick feels the need to point out. "They're too caught up with this war they think they're in."

"They've finally stopped loading up on bullets and guns," Len says, a frisson of excitement in his voice. "They've turned to prayers and witch-workers and sorcerers instead. A challenge."

And that's answer enough for Len, Mick reflects. He loves a goddamn challenge.

"And what about me?" he asks, clicking off the news.

Len blinks at him.

"You doing this for me? 'cause I'd like you to stop."

"It's not really for you," Len says contemplatively. "So much as it is for me, in your name."

Mick had figured as much. There were stories about samurai families that won the favor of the kitsune and were strengthened thereby, their enemies falling before them, but that that method of defense had lost favor considerably when it became clear that they couldn't control the kitsune's defense of their family names - merely direct it, and even not that, sometimes. That's when the kitsune blessing was revealed to be a curse.

Mick sympathizes. A lot.

"I don't like it," he tells Len, who smiles at him, unmoved. "And I'm gonna put a stop to it."

"Really?" Len drawls, that irritating yet painfully familiar Central City slum drawl. Turns out its because Len's always been a city boy, even before he was dragged around by family obligations he doesn't want to talk about, family obligations that do worse than make Len angry and instead make him quiet and hurt and afraid and make Mick have crazy thoughts about going to punch whatever supernatural creature or sorcerer put that expression on Len's face.

God, Mick doesn't even like the brat! He's just gotten used to him, that's all.

Practically a saintly duty, Mick's doing, keeping him all to himself. Keeping him away from other people.

Waking up every morning to his irritating voice and, sometimes, to the fleeting warmth of his body pressed against Mick's.

Making him breakfast as he bitches about something or another; better breakfasts than Mick would ever make himself, and healthier, too, just to see Len's nose wrinkle and his eyes narrow in suspicion.

Hearing him prattle on all day, chatter-chatter-chatter, a collection of all the gossip in the street. He gets it legit, too - no magic for this, no, just him, all wicked charming smiles and conspiratorial airs and suddenly all the women and most of the men want to tell him everything.

Letting that chatter fade into the background, a pleasant wave of noise that Mick finds increasingly difficult to focus without. Len never minds if Mick doesn't listen to the filler, he just likes to talk, and he has ways of making sure Mick's paying attention if he thinks what he's saying is important. It doesn't matter, anyway; most of the time Mick's listening with half an ear because it makes him smile inside.

Listening to all those terrible jokes, because Len's never met a pun he didn't like.

Being defended by him, tooth and nail and all offended that anyone dare think of Mick as just another dumb thug.

Letting him take on the planning of major heists, and watching him learn that he likes it, the human way of stealing, all timing and pre-planning and careful research; that he likes being the boss and not the bound for once; that he likes the challenge it gives him.

Waking up every morning and knowing, every morning, that Len will be there. Without fail. No matter what Mick does, to him or to others; no matter what others try to do.

Yeah.

Mick's practically a martyr for putting up with it all.

"And how, exactly, do you propose to stop me?" Len asks, and he's all sharp teeth and excitement again. "Do you think you can cage me?"

"Nah," Mick says. "I'm just going on vacation."

Len pauses. "Vacation?"

"I was thinking Greece," Mick says. "That far enough away from here that you won't be able to go wreak havoc without missing me waking up?"

And then he leans back and has fun watching Len realize that his own promises are being turned against him.

Len's grumbles and complaints about his fun being cut short make Mick laugh.

Of course, it turns out Len rather enjoys lounging near the A/C unit (on full blast, of course) while Mick enjoys the Grecian sun, so it's really a win-win situation, but what can you do about that?

But the cat came back the very next day, the cat came back, we thought he was a goner, but the cat came back; it just couldn't stay away.

"Get the fuck out of here!" Mick roars.

"You're so touchy," Len grumbles, but even his normal grousing can't touch Mick's rage. Not even the way his eyes are strangely concerned. "It wasn't even -"

"It's not that," Mick spits out. "It's you! You're the poison! You're the one who's to blame!"

Len's eyes go wide. "Mick -"

Mick charges him.

"Mick!"

Mick's not sure if it's surprise or what that does it, but Len doesn't nimbly dodge Mick's flailing arms the way he usually does; Mick grabs him around the waist and brings him down on the floor.

He's so angry.

He's so angry.

He doesn't even remember why he's so angry, just that he came home and Len was there and he's so angry, it hurts he's so angry so he has to hurt someone else just to get it out –

He brings his fists down on Len. His face, his ribs, it doesn't matter.

"You take everything!" he howls. "Scared away every friend I've ever had, ever girl that's ever taken an interest for more than one day! You're always here! You're always back!"

"Mick -" Len rasps through a damaged throat, staring up at him. "Mick -"

"You always come back and they're still dead," Mick cries out.

His family.

He hadn't even realized that was the issue.

Is it the issue?

He doesn't remember.

He doesn’t remember what made him angry.

He doesn’t remember -

"I don't deserve to have someone protecting me. I don't. I killed 'em all. My whole family, up in smoke. They're dead and they're gonna stay dead. They're never coming back. Not like you, you stupid -" Mick keeps hitting him. He doesn’t even mean to, but he can’t seem to stop. "- stupid -" Hitting him. "- selfish -" Is Mick crying? He can't tell. "- don't deserve -"

Len's eyes are soft with understanding.

He puts his hand - when did he get that loose? - on Mick's cheek.

"Sleep," Len says. "Sleep and be well."

Mick wakes up the next day.

Len is there.

He's always there.

Mick –

Mick doesn't mind. Hasn’t minded in years. It's better than being alone.

Hell, fuck the pretense. He likes Len. He likes having Len around. He thinks Len's the prettiest thing he ever damn did see, and he doesn't care about the friends or the girls or nothing, and he has no idea why he flipped out like that.

Not unless he's turning into his dad, that is.

Mick curls up on his side, facing away from Len. He doesn't want to see the bruises he left on him. "You should go," he whispers.

"I always come back to you," Len reminds him.

"You shouldn't. I don't - I hit you."

"We spar regularly."

"That wasn't sparring."

"No," Len says. "That's why I killed him."

Mick frowns. "...him?"

 "Oh, yes," Len says. "It was a great and glorious deed. That sort doesn't die for long, unfortunately, but he won't be coming back to Central any time this century. I think he's planning on going to Gotham next."

"Wait. Who's 'him'?" Mick asks, rolling over to look at Len.

Len, who's bruised, yes, bearing Mick's marks the way he always does, the way he never does for anyone else, but who is also sated with pleasure in a way he only gets when he has succeeded at something done in Mick's defense, truly. Fulfilling his raison d'etre, or something like that.

"Len?"

"The shrink," Len says. "The new one. Hugo Strange. He fed you a mix of medication designed to trigger a psychotic break and taunted you with stories of your family, then unleashed you. He wanted to see what would happen, I suspect."

"He -" Mick remembers going to the new shrink's office. He doesn't remember anything after that, just a sickly blank that ends with hurting Len. "I don't -"

"He erased your memory to cover his tracks, of course," Len says. "But he didn't know that you had me, and I can follow any tracks."

"It - wasn't me?"

"Definitely not," Len says cheerfully. "Trust me, when you hit me, you're a lot less uncontrolled. For shame, Mick; why did I teach you all that boxing if you're not going to use it?"

"On - you?"

"Generally!"

"You're weird," Mick decides, not for the first time.

"I don't feel pain the way you do, you know that," Len huffs, then curls up next to him in the bed; the bed they've shared for years.

Years.

Mick had forgotten that, somehow.

What the fuck was Mick going on about? Girls? He shoulda known something was wrong the second that came out of his mouth.

"We should go do a job somewhere exotic," Len says. "Get out of town."

"You got somewhere in mind?"

Len shrugs.

Mick searches his memory.

"Heard of a job coming up soon in Shreveport?" he offers. It’s not what any normal person would consider exotic, but it’s somewhere Len probably hasn’t had any reason to go, and that’s exotic enough for Len.

"Sure," Len agrees, eyes lighting up.

Shreveport is a bad idea, as it happens, but at least Len visits Mick in the hospital every day.

(He takes Mick's pain, every day, and human pain twists his face for the first time in his over-long life, and all Mick thinks is - you know, maybe this ain't so bad.)

(It isn't the first time he's thought that, but it's the first time he's started to believe that maybe it's okay to have it be that way.)

He gave it to a man going up in a balloon, he told him for to take it to the man in the moon;

Mick personally thought it was a dumb idea getting involved in supernatural squabbles, right up until they started doing it and it turned out to be ridiculously fun.

"Why are you even doing thiiiiiiiiiis?" the Flash shouts, running around them, sounding irritable even as he speeds up and his voice starts dragging.

"Fun," Mick says, and blasts the place the Flash is heading towards with the heat gun's flame setting.

Len got it for him, beaming and crazy proud, saying it had all sorts of names, the most frightening of which was "the sun".

Mick thanked him and double-checked that sunrise still happened on schedule, which it did, thankfully.

He's not totally sure about the stars, but some things you just don't ask.

(The books say that kitsune sometimes travel with balls of light, ball lightning, but the heat gun isn't lightning. Though there is one story about tricking the sun goddess or something...)

Either way, it's a great present.

Perfect match to the pretend “cold gun” that Len uses to camouflage his icy ‘ghost flame’ attacks.

(That’d been Mick’s idea.)

The Flash yowls like he's gotten his tail pulled when Mick's flame hits him. "Okay, that's it," he says, zipping forward until he's standing across from Mick with his hands on his hips. "Explain."

"Explain what?" Mick asks, quite seriously. The Flash has been asking a lot of questions – ‘who are you’, and ‘why are you doing this’, and ‘are you nuts’, and ‘what type of gun is that’ and ‘did someone send you’ and –

"How do you always manage to figure where I'm going to be!" the Flash exclaims, which is actually a new one. "I'm definitely running faster than you hu - faster than you can see."

The Flash'd meant to say "you humans", of course, since he was another of those crazy fox-faced kitsune hiding out in human form, but he was quick enough (heh) to catch it before it came out.

He doesn't realize yet that Mick can see his tail. Just the one, terrifyingly enough, but Len assures Mick that the Flash is old enough to play the game.

"Have you looked at my gun?" Mick asks dryly, instead of answering him.

The Flash frowns at him. "I'm not going near you; you'll scorch me."

"Seriously, come take a look," Mick says encouraging. "I'm very proud of it. Temporary truce?"

The Flash gives him a suspicious look, but creeps forward.

Mick holds the gun out. "You can look, but don't touch," he warns. "I'll know if you think about it."

The Flash, who’d clearly been thinking about it, makes a face but nods.

He does examine it at lightning speed.

And then -

"Is this a piece of the sun?!" he yelps.

"A piece," Mick says, mildly horrified by Len as always. "That explains it. I guess."

Only Len would get a pyromaniac a piece of the sun as a third decade anniversary gift.

"How did you get it?" the Flash asks. Demands, really, which - rude. "How did you transmute it into gun form? Even Cisco has trouble with that, and he's a builder Oni!"

Mick files that information away. "It was a gift," he says. "Not the first."

"Not the -"

The Flash's eyes go wide.

Mick reflects that it's a good thing that his job right now is to stall the Flash while Len ransacks the place, because for someone as quick as lightning, the Flash is sure taking his sweet time putting together the pieces.

"You're the human," the Flash says. He sounds - excited?

Also, hey.

"My name's Mick," Mick points out. "Not 'human'. Not even ‘the’ human, which I’m pretty sure ain’t true just ‘cause I really feel like someone would’ve told me if I was the only human left in this city. And ain't you supposed to be pretending you're one too?"

"You can see the tail, can't you?" the Flash asks, all long-suffering barely covering up for cheerful excitement.

"First decade anniversary gift," Mick confirms. Drops in his eyes from some sort of river - he didn't ask, but it'd take Len an awful long time to get, even though he did come back every morning to check in. "I see the tails, the horns, the occasional bowl -"

The guy with the bowl filled with water on his head had been super weird, but apparently he wasn't all that dangerous once you knew about him. All you need to do is bow politely, he bows back, you bow deeper, he bows deeper, and you keep that up until the bowl spills, at which point he's helpless.

Easy enough.

Len had said something about recruiting him into some sort of crew, maybe, since his confusion powers might be useful.

But serious, who wears stripes in such awful colors?

Also - the Top? Really? That's the name he opted to go with?

He should’ve waited for Cisco Ramon to give him a name.

"I can't believe he got you River-water," Barry is marveling. "I can't believe he gave you River-water."

Mick frowns a bit at that. Len had been excited to give it to him, sure, but he was always excited about giving Mick things. Sometimes things Mick didn't want.

Mostly murder Mick didn't want, not gonna lie, but Len was a deadly little beast like that.

"It's just river water, ain't it?" he asks.

The expression on the Flash's face indicates that no, it really wasn't.

"What did he do now," Mick sighs.

The Flash looks almost offended on Len's behalf. Kitsune all think the same, it seems. "It was a great gift, you know."

"The greatest," Mick assures him. "I loved it. His decade gifts are always fantastic."

The Flash looks a little less put out by that.

"Now what's it do?"

"It lets you see the truth," the Flash says.

"So - kitsune and the rest of it?" That's what Mick had figured, but the way the kid was acting, you’d think it was a hell of a lot more impressive than that.

"Well, yes, but not just that. You can see through illusions, even illusions meant to deceive other supernaturals. It's - it's truth. Even people like us don't get access to that stuff all that often - or ever, really...”

"Uh-huh," Mick says skeptically. "Don't work on humans, does it?"

The Flash looks a little embarrassed. "Well, no, humans are complicated. But if you looked long enough, it probably would!"

"Sure thing, kid," Mick says.

"I don't supposed he'd be willing to share how he did it..?"

Mick stares.

"What?"

"You remember that we're having a supervillain fight right now, right?"

The Flash blushes bright red under his scarlet mask. Honestly, the whole fox-themed superhero suit - all red and gold - really did seem a bit obvious...

"We're under truce," the Flash grumbles.

"I'll ask him," Mick relents. "Don't promise he'll say yes or anything."

"Thank you!"

"Can we get back to fighting now?" Mick asks helplessly. Whatever Len’s stealing had better damn well be worth it.

"Sure thing," the Flash beams.

Mick raises his gun, then pauses as a thought trickles forward. "Hey, kid?"

"Yeah?"

"You said 'the human'. Exactly how many people in this city know me as Lenny's human?"

The Flash's pause goes on for too long.

"Tell me," Mick says, resigning himself.

"He's - very proud of you?" the Flash offers.

Mick groans.

The balloon came down about ninety miles away, where he is now, well I dare not say.

"So, I've gotta ask why you keep coming over," Mick says. "I know my cooking's good, but it ain't that good."

"It's delicious, Mick, really," Barry (aka the Flash, aka he who cannot keep a secret if his life depends on it) says, very sincerely. He looks like he means it, too; it's not just that Len's sitting across the table from him with an expression that suggests that he will murder Barry and put his body in the backyard if the answer is anything different.

"Thanks," Mick says, unable to keep from being amused. "Not my point. Why are you here?"

The two kitsune at his kitchen table blink at him, big wide eyes in long narrow faces both.

"You're supposedly superhero and supervillain, right?"

"We are," Len confirms. He was very proud of that. His reaction when Mick had presented him with his own action figure had been fantastic - the first time Mick's ever been able to really surprise him.

Sure, he said something about it being a long time since he had, quote, an "item of worship" and he made a full on alter for it in the corner, but Mick's just - not going to touch on that.

He's pretty sure he saw a similar alter in Barry's apartment that one time they broke in and left him a better quality of bed as a prank.

Kitsune.

They're all weirdos.

"I just wanna know why you're here, then," Mick says. "If you're nemeses and all that."

"Someone needs to teach Barry the basics," Len says.

"Someone really does," Barry agrees. "I'm a kitling next to Len here; it's fun to play the game and fight each other and all, but sometimes, you know, a kitsune needs another kitsune to show him the steps."

Len nods firmly.

Mick makes a mental note to tell Len later that Mick should be consulted before they adopt any...kitlings...in the future. Though it's probably not going to help.

At least he can try to bargain for knowing before Len decides it’s time for them to have kitlings or something. Who even knows how kitsune reproduce?

"The builder and the snow-woman are very nice," Len says, referring to the Oni and Yuki-onna on Team Flash, "but they're not kitsune."

"Cisco and Caitlin," Barry reminds him. "They have names."

"And very nice names, too," Len says indulgently.

Mick rolls his eyes and turns back to his stovetop, where he's been making a two-kitsune sized portion of pancakes, which is to say, a shitload.

"Why doesn't Barry just ask the kitsune back at STAR Labs, then?" he asks over his shoulder. "Wrong type or something?"

He's not really expecting a serious answer.

He's definitely not expecting what he did get, which is a very pointed sort of silence.

"Mick," Len says eventually.

"Yeah?"

"There is no kitsune at STAR Labs."

"Sure there is," Mick says, frowning at the two of them as he turns to deliver another stack of pancakes.

"Len and I are the only kitsune in Central City," Barry says.

Mick frowns some more. "You sure?"

"Why do you ask?" Len asks.

"I saw one," Mick says, bewildered. "The old guy, sitting in the wheelchair."

"Wells?" Barry says, blinking. "I mean, he's my mentor, yes, but he's a kyonshi vampire, not a kitsune."

"He had tails," Mick says. "Black and yellow, to be sure, not red and yellow like you two. I thought tails were a kitsune thing."

"Tails are a kitsune thing," Len says. His eyes are glittering - a new challenge and what may be a trespass on his territory. His blood is up. "But that's no kitsune, no."

"I don't understand," Barry says.

"Mick's got River-blessed eyes," Len says. "He sees through illusions, even ones aimed at us."

"So - Wells is a kitsune?"

"No," Len says. "He's a nogitsune."

Barry looks horrified.

Mick just asks, "What's that? A type of sneeze?"

The moment of seriousness breaks as both kitsune snigger.

"It's an evil kitsune," Barry explains. "Very bad. Especially if he has multiple tails and is older, and possibly more powerful."

"He had seven," Mick says, concerned; that's more than Len and Barry put together. "And - wait. An evil kitsune? There's an evil version? Len murders people all the time!"

"Only when I think they deserve it," Len says.

"That's still murder!"

"Actually," Barry says apologetically, "from the supernatural perspective..."

"You have got to be kidding me!"

But the cat came back the very next day, the cat came back, we thought he was a goner, but the cat came back; it just couldn't stay away.

"I made hot cocoa," Mick says.

Iris West blinks at him owlishly.

"It has liquor in it," Mick adds.

"Oh God, get in here," she says, and all but yanks him into the house. "You're human, right?"

"'The' human, I've been informed," Mick says dryly.

"Good," Iris says. She looks vaguely shell-shocked. Mick can't blame her. "I can't - really deal. With anything non-human. At the moment."

"Totally fair," Mick says, not without sympathy. "Takes a while to get used to, huh?"

"No kidding. I grew up with Barry! Or - at least - I thought I did. And then it turns out that my grandpaw also grew up with him! And possibly even further back!"

"Nah, not that far back. He's only got one tail, means he's under two hundred."

"Tails," Iris mutters, taking a swig out of the thermos Mick offers her. Then she takes a very deep breath and lets it out very slowly. Then, her voice squeaking, she says, "Strong. Very strong."

Doesn't stop her from taking another swig.

"I have my own sill," Mick tells her proudly.

"You're a saint."

"A very efficient and generous sinner."

"Same difference." She shakes her head. "How did you adjust?"

"I didn't have much choice," Mick says. "I was the one who won the gift."

Iris blinks at him. "Not sure I understand."

"A kitsune's protection of a family is a gift," Mick explains. "They show up every day at the family hearth - practically speaking, they visit a family member each morning - and they do...things...that they feel are necessary to protect the family. Unsavory things, sometimes."

Iris nods.

"That 'gift' is something they give to some poor schmuck stupid enough to accept it - for you, probably someone a ways back."

"And for you?"

"My whole family burned in a fire," Mick tells her, and after all these years of therapy he can almost do it without flinching, "and I was the one who got the gift."

"Wait," Iris says, starting to put two and two together. "You said they show up to see the family every morning -"

"Yep."

"And you were the only member of your family."

"Yep."

"You poor man."

"Finally, someone who gets it!"

Iris laughs. "Don't get me wrong, I love Bear, but he can be a bit much. Very intense. And I'm splitting him among me, dad, grandma, and at least three cousins, apparently!"

"It's not that bad," Mick says. "They're pretty loveable."

"Once you get over the whole supernatural fox thing, yeah," Iris agrees, but her forehead is wrinkling. "Though - my mom died, when I was a kid. Shouldn't he have protected her?"

"Not if the family was through your dad, which it is," Mick says. "He says he keeps an eye on your little brother, though."

Iris goes quiet.

"...what?"

"I didn't know I had a little brother," she says, her voice dangerous.

"Does your dad?" Mick asks.

Iris' eyes narrow. "Oh, if this is another thing I was 'better off not knowing about', I am going to murder him!"

"Which him?"

"My dad! He's the one - oooooh, he makes me so angry. He always tells Barry not to tell me things! And then Barry does!"

"Your dad is the current head of household," Mick says. "That apparently counts for something, with kitsune. Might be better when you move out for good."

Iris shakes her head and has some more hot cocoa. In a mug this time, like a civilized drunkard.

"I still can't believe...wait! Snart. He has a sister! Is she a kitsune, too?"

"A minor wind spirit," Mick says. "Snart adopted her way back when and gave her his name. Graceful and cutting a sharp north wind, Lisa is."

"Oh," Iris says.

"It gets easier eventually."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"You do seem pretty calm...how long have you known Len?"

"Over three decades."

Iris groans.

Mick pats her awkwardly on the shoulder. "At least he's not dead, and the nogitsune is?"

"Yeah, in a giant epic supernatural battle royale apparently involving my fiancé's family evil spirit!"

"In fairness, they never realized their inugami was actually a nogitsune. The really did think he was just a dog, not a fox.”

“I’m not even going to unpack that, okay?”

“At least your fiancé is mostly human?" Mick offers, even though he knows it only goes so far. "I'm pretty sure the yokai blood is almost unnoticeable..."

"The only reason he's not dead is because he could use one of his 'back-up' lives, and he has adorable little chipmunk ears in magic-vision."

"Wait, you're dating Chippendale the Tanuki Cop? Really?"

Iris snickers. "I'm using that," she decides. "He's in such deep hot water, he has no idea what's coming his way..."

"At least tanuki are traditionally nice? Along with their, uh, other assets..."

Iris smirks.

"But yeah, he shoulda told ya earlier."

"You bet your ass he should've," Iris confirms. She still looks steamed, but the chocolate and alcohol have helped make her look less haggard and unstable. "I mean, I'm going to forgive them - they're my boys - but...aaaargh. You know what I mean?"

"Surprisingly enough," Mick says, "I understand entirely." He sighs and shakes his head. “It’s even worse when they get into a snit and turn into a fox and sit on your goddamn head till you apologize, ain’t it?”

Silence.

“Tell me,” Iris says, very slowly, “that you’re kidding and that isn’t a real thing.”

Mick opens his mouth, then closes it helplessly.

Iris groans and goes for the thermos again.

He gave it to a man going way out West, told him for to take it to the one he loved the best;

“I’m really enjoying traveling by tsukumogami; I’ve never done it before,” Len says, sounding pleased as punch.

“I wish someone’d told me that we were travelling by tsukumogami ahead of time,” Mick grumbles.

“I wish someone would tell me what a tsukumogami is,” Kendra says with a sigh.

"It's a possessed object," Len says promptly. "The ship is the shell; Gideon is the yokai."

"Oh," Kendra says. "I probably should've known that."

"It's fine, kitling," Len assures her. "You're just a baby."

Mick rolls his eyes behind Len's back, making sure Kendra can see. She grins at him.

Kendra’s clearly getting a bit tired of being called a baby, and Mick can't blame her; it's not her fault that her foster parents raised her from the egg as a human, with her more tengu traits hidden until she was old enough.

Carter - another tengu, and one who immediately tried to position himself as her mentor (and also lover - creepy!) - scowls at Mick. "I'm surprised you know about tsunokogami," he sniffs. He's hated Mick ever since Kendra gravitated towards him as the only other person on board with a proper human-raised mindset. "Human."

"Do you enjoy having a tongue?" Len asks, sounding curious. "Because if not, you could just ask me to remove it for you. You don't need to be rude about it."

Carter wisely shuts his mouth.

"I still can't believe we're doing this," Jax, one of the two hitodami on board, grumbles. He looks human right now - it's only when he joins up with Stein that they turn into their formless ghost-flame shape.

Mick thinks they might be dead spirits, but they could also just be born yokai; what does he know? The library can only help so much.

Sara, on the other hand, he knows is some sort of dead spirit. A dead woman out for vengeance: her face sliced into a giant smile that hides terribly sharp teeth. Mick forgets what she's called, but he’s pretty sure that even before she died, she was a Jorōgumo spider-woman rather than a human, one that got mixed up in some sort of crazy revenge business with a samurai, and the whole dying business didn’t really help matters.

She's still trying to make up her mind as to whether she hates all humans, all men, or just bad men.

Mick, who falls into all of those categories, has been quietly rooting for 'men who hurt women' as a category, because he's usually pretty decent about not doing that. Sara's been moderately receptive, in that she hasn't tried to kill him since the first time when Len showed his teeth.

Actually, this whole trip has really been one fight after another for Len, which may explain why he's been enjoying it so much.

Recruited by a monk spirit (Mick forgets the name, but he has something to do with keeping things in order, possibly in regards to death) with a cursed ship to fly through time and sometimes the boundaries of Earth, the vast majority of the crew are spirits of some variety. The two tengu, the flaming hitodami, Sara's vengeful ghost, Ray's cheerfully possessed but very tiny teacup-armor-spirit, and even Len - it could make a human guy feel outclassed.

With Len at his side, though, Mick's not worried.

Honestly, if there's anything he's worried about, it's meeting another Ōgama, which manifest as giant smoke-breathing toads with spears.

After that last incident, Mick officially hates giant toads.

Maybe Savage is secretly one of those instead of a power-mad spirit bent on exterminating the local tengu clan-leaders and absorbing their power.

A threat like that probably wouldn't have been enough to get the other spirits to care, not really - even Barry had started off by saying something about needing to deserve mastery of a territory by fighting for it - but for the fact that Kendra was a clan-leader by virtue of being the only one of her breed left, and she was under 50 years old; the other yokai were offended by the thought of anyone gaining power by the murder of baby spirits.

Mick will never understand them.

Their guide, Rip, clearly has secret motivations for wanting to stop Savage beyond saving Kendra, but he hasn't exactly been sharing.

He hasn't exactly been happy that Len brought Mick along as his plus-one, either, but he wanted a kitsune with the power and cleverness to steal pieces of the sun, and the sun is Mick's by right of gift, so Rip's just gonna have to learn to suck it up.

Besides, Mick’s starting to suspect he’s something not particularly nice – the amount of lying involved in their recruitment and the very strange way he’s been suggesting they arrange their crew has been suspicious.

“We’re going out for another mission,” Ray says, clanking into the room. He’s what Len laughingly calls a seto taishō, a little soldier pieced together out of chipped teacups and other broken household wares, but he’s a fierce little thing that’s taught himself how to grow and shrink at will. Mick thinks he might actually be a furuutsubo of some sort, armor that incarnates as a yokai at the death of its former master, even though he doesn’t have a quiver. But, again, what does he know? He's just guessing. “This one's gonna be fun, too - Rip thinks Savage may be hiding out behind Gyokuto’s shadow -"

"Ain't that the rabbit-that-lives-in-the-moon?" Mick asks suspiciously. “The one that invented mochi?”

"Technically, she is the moon..." Ray trails off when he notices Len’s expression. "What?"

"We're going into space," Len says flatly. "A place that Mick won't be able to accompany us. Again."

"He is human," Carter says snidely. "We're not going to accommodate our travel plans for his deficiencies." Kendra glares at him, so he quickly adds, "Not when Kendra's life is at risk."

He doesn't seem to understand why she's still glaring.

"And yet I feel as though there are options for missions being passed by, missions where Mick could participate," Len says, very levelly. "Even after I told Rip that Mick could use some time to stretch his legs before he goes haywire. Why, one might even begin to wonder..."

"I'm sure he doesn't mean ill," Ray says quickly.

"He might," Sara says thoughtfully. "He's been remarkably vague about what type of monk-spirit he is, or the organization he hails from."

"We still have a mission," Carter says. "Perhaps this will be the one that means victory. We cannot afford to lose the chance."

Kendra looks like she wants to protest, but bites her lip. She is a baby, in the end, and Carter is an elder of her kind.

"It'll be fine," Mick says, even though he is starting to develop a bit of cabin fever.

Len sniffs. "Very well," he says. "You may all go."

"You?" Ray echoes.

"I'm staying, of course," Len says, and leaps up, shifting forms into a brilliant grey-colored fox-shape that he prefers. Some sort of artic fox, except with his five tails, symbols of his age, on full display. He's in a snit. "With my human and his, how'd you call them, deficiencies."

"Leonard," Sara says, mildly censorious.

"I have made my decision," Len says firmly.

"You don't need to," Mick protests, but secretly he's not planning on protesting too hard. It sucks to sit and wait all alone, with no one but a possessed ship shell to talk to.

"Decision. Made. Now pick me up and take me to the room, I could use some grooming," Len orders.

Mick rolls his eyes and picks him up. "Good luck on your mission," he grunts to Kendra, who smiles back at him, and then he goes to his room.

"You know," he says once they're there. "Your whole shtick is coming back. Hard to do that if you're already here."

Len rolls his fox-eyes (there are more than two) at him, and lolls on his back in a silent demand for belly rubs. "I'm saving it up," he drawls. "Never know when you might need extra juice."

"On this trip?" Mick snorts. "Between Rip's incompetence, Ray's excessive optimism, Sara's homicidal tendencies, Kendra's naïveté -"

"I thought you liked Kendra."

"- Carter's hostility and Jax and Stein's treating this like a pleasure cruise," Mick continues doggedly, ignoring Len. He does like Kendra; that's not the point. "I think you'll have plenty of reasons to use up your juice."

"And yet I only want to use it for you," Len says.

Mick flushes. Len doesn't often say things that imply, well, feelings, preferring to show affection through the usual yokai route of murder and mayhem and gifts.

Mick rather likes it when he does.

"Also, can you get me behind the ear?" Len asks, stretching out until his paws were fully extended. "It itches."

"The romance is dead," Mick decides, but does.

First the train hit the curve, then it jumped the rail, Not a soul was left behind to tell the gruesome tale.

"I'm sorry," Sara says, and she actually sounds sympathetic, too.

Fuck, Mick must really look like a wreck.

Mick pulls the blanket they've given him - the one from his bed, he can tell from the grey fox-hairs on it - and shakes his head mutely.

It all started with that last job, the one with the robber paradise (he’d liked that) and then the pirates. He’d fallen behind, eyeing some of the buildings they’d burned down, and he’d seen a path that looked like a shortcut to catch up.

He should’ve known better, he really should’ve.

But, like a stupid idiot, he decided to give it a shot anyway.

He knew something was weird about that path from the first moment, the twist of nausea, but in the end he's still only human - the way everyone on the ship kept insisting he was - and he was drawn forward despite himself, despite trying to back away, despite trying to stop.

As with all things yokai, going down that path was a bad idea.

Mick doesn't -

Mick doesn't really remember it, the time he spent in that awful time-trap where nothing moved. Probably for the best, really.

He doesn't remember anything that happened, and he doesn't remember how it was like, but he remembers things almost intellectually, like a list of facts that he heard someone recite once.

He remembers that he was afraid. He remembers that he was hurt.

He remembers that they kept Len from coming back to him.

They hadn't really kept Len away, of course; the time that passed in the world was mere hours. It was only longer in Mick's brain.

But it had –

It hadn’t been good.

He’d felt abandoned.

He’d felt hurt.

He’d felt –

Rage.

Mick shivers beneath his blanket, remembering.

He feels a soft touch of wing drape over him and a soft hand wrap gently around his wrist.

Kendra.

"Mick," she said softly.

"He's not gone," Mick says stubbornly, because it can't be true.

It can't be.

Len always comes back. That’s the truth of it, for good or for ill; he always comes back. Even when Mick doesn’t want him to.

Three decades, now; he’s always there.

He always comes back.

He has to come back this time, too.

"Leonard went to war against a full legion of death-spirits," Sara says gently. "He destroyed a full section of the afterlife. For you."

Mick bites his lower lip.

He knows that.

He knows that Len clutched at him, his eyes wild and furious and pained, when Mick was finally let back out of the trap. He knows that he had been very little short of raving mad when he'd gotten out, not even angry, barely even coherent - lashing out at anyone and anything, pure trapped animal trying to get free. He knows that they fought, a dreadful echo to that time long before that his mind was altered against his will - knows, too, that it was that moment repeating horribly that was used against him in the trap.

Knows that it was on purpose.

Kitsune are hard to kill, after all, especially five-tails like Len. They're smart and they're tough and they're tricky, and they steal power the way other, lesser thieves steal wallets. They can summon ghostly fire, cold as space, into their hands at a thought; they can change their shape; they can create false items of any sort from a handful of twigs.

And when they have something - someone - to protect, they're virtually unstoppable.

But the family a kitsune swears itself to has power over it, the trade made and kept in a way only yokai understand, and if the head of the family chooses to put an end to the kitsune, they can.

That's why those punishment-monk-spirits, the Masters, did what they did. They wanted Mick to -

It doesn't matter.

Mick saw Len beneath him, bruised and sad; he felt Len's hand on his cheek, and though he was temporarily immune to Len's spells of sleep - courtesy of the Masters - he remembered.

He remembered Strange and his experiments, and he became confused, and he stopped just long enough for Kendra and Sara and Ray to rush forward and pull him back.

And then Len got to his feet, face blacked with bruises, his eyes alight with rage, and he spat from his mouth a single glowing marble.

The others stepped back when they saw it.

A kitsune's marble is the ultimate source of their power, a very dangerous thing to risk losing, and Len hadn't seen fit to call upon it - well, for as long as Mick's known him. He’s told Mick about it, of course, but Mick’s only ever seen it once, long ago.

Their wedding day, when the sun shined bright and the rain fell from nowhere – a proper kitsune’s wedding.

Where Len wrapped Mick’s fingers around his marble and made his vows, looking Mick straight in the eye, and Mick said his own vows back to him.

The marble of a kitsune is what they make their oaths on, the oaths they mean to keep.

When he stood upon the ship among his yokai crew, staring at the shuddering shivering snivelling wreck that had been made of his human, Len summoned it a second time – this time, not for joy, but for vengeance.

"I swear," Len said, his eyes fixed upon Mick, his knuckles white around his marble, "that this will be paid back tenfold."

And he'd disappeared amid the shouts and cries of the others.

And then –

And then –

Mick shuts his eyes.

"He's not gone," he says again. "He's not."

"We saw the explosion," Ray says, broken crockery creaking as he lingers anxiously, afraid to come near and unwilling to go far. "We saw it. Everyone saw it. The heavens will never be the same again, the landscape of the other-world and after-life altered forever, and in your name. It is a great thing."

"I don't want a great thing," Mick says. "I want Len back."

Ray doesn’t understand, because of course he doesn’t; yokai don’t think of these things the way humans do. To go down in history, to be forever remembered, to have your name emblazoned among the stars and the legends – that’s far greater a prize than to be simply alive.

Humans don’t think that way, though.

Mick doesn’t think that way.

He’d trade a million years of fame for anonymity, if only he could have Len back at his side.

"Even a kitsune nine-tails wouldn't have survived that explosion," Sara says. She is sad, too - they became friends, to their mutual surprise, playing games of card and chance. He'd made her laugh for the first time since she was alive. “The only thing that could have caused that sort of destruction would be the destruction of a kitsune’s marble, and such destruction would end everything they were.”

She never entirely understood why Len loved Mick so, but she’d respected Mick, after a while.

She’d respected both of them.

She was the one who wrapped Rip in spider silk and gashed open his mouth when he tried to move on without acknowledging Mick's absence at the hands of his former compatriots. For yokai, this is not a permanent or fatal alteration the way it is for humans, but the crew have not released him yet for all his honey-sweet words about resisting the calls of his ghostly order, about a new mission, about protecting the timeline and all of humanity.

He is the last of his kind, now.

Perhaps that's what he always wanted to be.

Mick doesn't even care.

He wants Len back.

Len always comes back.

"I'm so sorry, Mick," Kendra says.

Mick closes his eyes and tastes the salt of his tears.

But the cat came back the very next day, the cat came back, we thought he was a goner, but the cat came back; it just couldn't stay away.

Mick opens his eyes and stares at the grey ceiling of the Waverider.

Gideon the tsukumogami does not speak to him; it is before the time of his alarm, or perhaps the others have requested that it be turned off, so that he might sleep in and so recover better.

He doesn’t want to look around.

He doesn’t want to see.

He doesn’t want to risk not seeing, that final confirmation of absence.

He doesn’t –

"You’re a bit of a slug-a-bed when you're travelling, huh?" a familiar voice whispers in his ear. “I knew it.”

Mick smiles.

(They do, eventually, tell the others that Len’s not dead, but only after the sacred Spear thing is firmly in Len’s greedy little hands.)

[lacommunarde]

Snart and Scofield to the Company Came - Chapter 8: The Van, the Truck and the Bike

Chapter 1: A Case of Mistaken Identities

Chapter 2: STAR Labs

Chapter 3: What is Leonard Snart?

Chapter 4:  Safety in Central City

Chapter 5: Meetings and Decisions

Chapter 6: Licence Plate Game

Chapter 7: Utah

Chapter 8: The Van, the Truck and the Bike

Fandom: The Flash, Prison Break, Arrow (sort of) Rating: Mature Warnings: Prison Break typical level of violence, (sort of major) character death, Torture, Surgery, Cancer, Child Abuse, Past Child Abuse,

Notes: Spoilers through season 4 of Prison Break, The events of the Flash happen ten years earlier: Len Mick and Lisa are ten years younger but everyone else is canon age, Len is 33, Michael is 28/29 when the fic starts, Linc is 32/33, Mick is 35. Snart Family Feels, Scofield and Burrows Family Feels,

Relationships: Mick Rory/Leonard Snart, Leonard Snart & Lisa Snart, Lincoln Burrows & Michael Scofield, Michael Scofield/Sara Tancredi, Maricruz Delgado/Fernando Sucre, Michael Scofield & Leonard Snart, Michael Scofield & Christina Scofield, Leonard Snart & Christina Scofield, Mick Rory & Lincoln Burrows,

Characters: Leonard Snart, Michael Scofield, Mick Rory, Lincoln Burrows, Lisa Snart, Cisco Ramon, Barry Allen, Caitlin Snow, Sara Tancredi, Fernando Sucre, LJ Burrows, Joe West, Iris West, Maricruz Delgado, Felicity Smoak, Alex Mahone, Paul Kellerman, Bill Kim, Christina Scofield, General Krantz, Aldo Burrows, Theodore “T-Bag” Bagwell, Wally West, Lewis Snart, Brad Bellick, Oliver Queen, Axel Walker,

Summary:    When Michael Scofield and Lincoln Burrows swing by Central City to get a potential plan B for getting to Panama (in case they need it), they are mistaken for Leonard Snart and Mick Rory. Leonard Snart, who is laying low (not in Central City) is mistaken for Scofield. Once their identities are straightened out, Len, Mick and Lisa and the Flash team decide they are going to help the brothers (and Sucre, Sara Tancredi, and LJ) find out why the Company wants them, and the Rogues call in a few favors.

“So we’re gonna pick him up in New Mexico. Why?” Linc asked.

“Our colleague is dropping him just this side of New Mexico. Then he’s going to walk across into New Mexico. And we’re going to meet him at a diner. That way our friend doesn’t get on the Feds on him for crossing state line-.”

“He’s helping us,” Linc said.

“He’s helping transporting your son as far as state borders. Then he’s dropping him off at a gas station and continuing on his way north.”

“Does LJ know what to do from there?” Michael asked.

Lisa inclined her head. “Our colleague has taken down precise instructions from Lenny and will give them to the kid.”

Michael nodded. “And those are to meet us just across the border in a diner? How won’t the Feds know where we are?”

Lisa gave all three of them a pitying look. “Remember Sinners & Saints?”

Michael nodded.

Lisa inclined her head. “If any Feds walked into there, they’d be spotted a mile away.”

Linc leaned over to her. “We gotta pretend to be Mick and Len again?”

Lisa chuckled. “No, you’re getting there, but not quite close enough.”

Sucre seemed unsure. “How do we know they aren’t going to turn us in?”

Lisa smirked. “Oh, because they all have rap sheets fifty miles long on some very interesting crimes.”

Linc shook his head. “Not all the people who are following us are necessarily on the up and up.”

Lisa tossed her hair. “No one’s interested, Linc. Trust me.”

Michael said, “You said ‘not quite close enough.’ Are we meeting people who know them?”

Lisa smirked at him. “Your mind works just like Lenny’s.”

Michael smiled at her. “Knowing what you feel for your brother, I’m complimented.”

“So how much like him do you actually look, Papi?” Sucre asked.

Linc laughed. “A hell of a lot, Sucre.”

“Any relation?”

Michael shrugged, as did Linc. Lisa shook her head. “Not brothers; that’s for sure, at least, not through Lenny’s mom. She died a couple years back, and besides, you aren’t related to her, not if you two are full brothers. Lenny’s mom was a black Jewish woman named Ella, and my mother wouldn’t make you related to Len at all. And Linc, you confirmed that our father wasn’t your father. So that leaves… cousins? Lewis never told us he had a sibling, and I feel that would have come up, at least when we were little, while our gramps was still alive.”

Linc nodded, glancing at Michael. “Yeah, we’re full siblings.”

Michael attention snapped to the radio. “Turn it up. They just mentioned something about Sara or her father.”

Sucre glanced at Michael. Linc turned up the radio. “Governor Tancredi found dead in his home this morning. The apparent cause was suicide. Do you have anything to report on this?”

Michael reached out a hand for Sucre, who clasped it. “I know, Papi. You love her.”

Lisa turned to gaze at Michael. “Do you think whoever’s after you…?”

Linc nodded. “Yeah.”

Michael nodded. “Without a doubt. They were after us and I gave some information to Sara to give to her father. To try to get Linc out. He must have brought it up to the wrong people.”

“Like the President,” Linc said.

Sucre shook his head. “I still can’t believe the President wants you dead, Sink.”

Lisa shrugged. “Why not? He did supposedly kill her brother. If anybody harmed Lenny, I’d stop it nothing to see them dead.”

“This Lenny. What’s he do?” Sucre said.

Lisa smirked. “He’s a supervillain. Ever since the Flash came around.”

Sucre turned to Michael with a surveying expression.

Michael raised an eyebrow. “Yes, can I help you?” Michael joked after a minute.

Sucre shook his head at him. “Sounds like something you would do, Papi.”

Michael gave a considering nod.

Linc caught the consideration, far more than he liked, and responded, “We are not becoming supervillains, Michael.”

“It might be a way to get to Sara.”

Linc smacked the back of his head against the headrest. “You never got any crushes before. Did you have to get this one at the least convenient time imagined?”

Michael ducked his chin.

“We all know you do,” Sucre joined in before Michael could start denying it.

“I don’t want her harmed by our actions.”

“As of yet, there have been no reports on the whereabouts of his daughter, Dr. Sara Tancredi, who was involved with the Fox River Eight’s daring escape from prison.”

Michael leaned forward to Lisa and gestured at a small gas station town. “Pull over up here. I want to send something.”

Lisa shook her head. “No go, Michael.”

Michael bristled. “This is my escape plan for getting my brother and me to safety. Unless you have a good reason, you don’t get to tell me what I can and cannot do.”

Lisa tossed her hair and made a barely concealed snarl. “I’m helping you, you moron. Where a letter goes, a Postal Service stamp will follow stating the zip code it was sent from. Besides, if they can’t find her, chances are they’ve already checked her apartment. So where is she supposed to get it anyway?”

Michael shook his head. “It’s in code. And we will be gone from here shortly.”

Lisa nodded, impressed. “Oh good. So you and Sara have a pre-arranged code that no one else can crack.”

Michael frowned, tipping his head. “Mmm. Not exactly.”

“What do you mean, not exactly?”

“She’ll be able to figure it out.”

Lisa inhaled, counted to five, and exhaled through her nose. “Would anyone else, like the people who are tracking you, the people who tried to drown my brother to get information, the fucking Secret Service of the goddamn US government, be able to figure out this code if they oversaw what you are sending her?”

Michael opened his mouth to protest, nodded, and closed his mouth again. “Yes. I was not counting on being up against nearly such steep odds when I made this plan.”

Linc nodded. “They just keep getting steeper and steeper, don’t they?”

Sucre protested. “But we can’t just leave her there. If they killed her father because he knew something, aren’t they likely to kill her too?”

“I’ll go get her. You three pick up LJ and get to Bolshoi Booze. With the stuff from Central City.”

Lisa pulled the truck off to the side of the road and turned to Michael. “If you want me to take them somewhere, I have to know where it is.”

Michael met her eyes. “Linc knows where it is and how to find it, don’t you Linc. I’ll meet you in a few days.” He started to open the door of the truck.

She grabbed his collar. Linc and Sucre moved for the two of them. She had her gun aimed at Linc’s face in a swift motion before he could get close. She kept her attention on Michael. “Damnit! The one thing above all else Lenny taught me that you clearly still have to learn - you’re not in this by yourself! You have a team, and you look out for them, and there is always another way to do things. So consider, is there another way than sacrificing yourself to the Feds, or whoever’s after you, because you and I both know that’s what it would be. One shot and you’re done. Now use that big brain of yours and think of something.”

She released him. Linc and Sucre backed off. Lisa shrugged and leaned back, not looking at either of them dead on, but glancing at them out of the corner of her eyes like a cat deciding whether she can trust someone. Michael glanced at Linc then at Sucre, nodding to them both that he was okay. Lisa, on seeing Michael and Linc nodding at each other, made a thoughtful sound. “Michael, how likely would she be to get into a car with, say, Linc?”

Michael glanced at Linc again, realization of what Lisa was suggesting dawning on his face, and gave a slow nod, becoming more certain by the second. “She might.”

Linc said, “Why does it matter? We’re down here. She’s up there in Chicago.”

“Not you, but someone who looks a lot like you, who’s an hour away from Chicago.”

Linc smiled, nodding at Lisa, impressed.

“He looks that much like you, Sink?” Sucre asked.

“Yes, he does,” Michael nodded and turned to Lisa. “The question is, would he be willing?”

“One way to check.” Lisa picked up her phone and flipped it open, dialing the number of her brother’s burner phone.

--

“You owe me big time, buddy,” Mick said, hanging up his phone. Cisco, Barry, Caitlin, Iris and Joe all looked up at him.

“Did Tattoo mention to you idiots that he has a girlfriend up near Chicago?”

Cisco shook his head.

“No, he didn’t, Rory.”

“Well, Snart is saying he wants to make sure she’s safe. Bring her here for a while.”

Joe rolled his eyes. “Oh, great. Why didn’t he think of that before he decided to break his brother out of prison? It seems to me like he thought of everything else.”

Mick sighed. “The idiot fell for the prison doc. Who had the misfortune of falling in love back. But here’s where it complicated. She’s the daughter of the governor. What’s his name? Tan-something.”

Iris gaped. “The Governor of Illinois, the one who killed himself this morning, Frank Tancredi?”

Barry stammered. “Wait. Governor Tancredi killed himself?”

Mick nodded. “Yeah, that’s the one. Only Lisa, Tattoo and Prez don’t think it was suicide. They think whoever’s after them offed Tancredi, and now is after his daughter. And nobody can find her, including the guy who tried to drown Snart, who was on the radio being interviewed about it.”

Barry said, “We’ve gotta bring her here then.”

Joe mouthed. “Why?”

Cisco winced. “He say how?”

Mick stared at a place on the floor and nodded. “Yeah, and it’ll work, but Snart didn’t like it and I don’t either. I don’t typically go out on the line for people.”

Iris took a look at Mick’s expression. “They’re wondering if you could go up there as Linc.”

Mick did a finger gun at her with a wink. “Got it in one, Writer Chick.” Iris raised her eyebrow.

Joe frowned. “That doesn’t seem smart. From the sounds of it, you’ll be walking into a warzone.”

Mick shook his head. “Since when do you care? You’re a cop. I’m a criminal.”

“Point.” Joe said, then went back to an earlier point, “He thinks it wasn’t a suicide?”

“They’re all sure of it,” Mick answered.

Caitlin said, “Well, to find her, it would take more than just you going up there disguised as Lincoln Burrows. We would have to know where she is.”

Cisco said, “What if I recalibrate my system for Chicago? Everything by her apartment?”

Barry nodded. “That would work. How quickly can you do that?”

Cisco shrugged. “Maybe a few hours.”

Mick shook his head. “We don’t have a few hours. Not if she stayed close to her apartment.”

“Felicity,” Barry and Caitlin suggested at the same time.

Cisco went over to his computer. “Hey, Felicity, babe.”

“Cisco?” came Felicity’s voice over the com.

“Can you help us find the daughter of Governor Tancredi?”

“Ooh. Why? Is she involved with a crime? I mean another one after the initial letting the Fox River Eight out by leaving her door open. Ooh. Did Michael plant her and now he wants her out?” Felicity’s voice sped up as she tried to figure out why they wanted her.

“He didn’t. But he’s worried whoever’s after him and his brother might also be after her,” Cisco related along.

“Which is why she’s nowhere to be found,” Felicity concluded.

“Got it in one, girl,” Cisco said. “So I need access to the Chicago phone system.”

“Oh. Okay. Hang on a moment.” The phone went silent for about a minute. “Ooh. There we go! You should start getting it in just a minute.”

Sure enough, Cisco’s computer buzzed to life. “Thanks, girl.” He hung up.

“Now, all we need is a sound clip. Aha. Here’s one from her trial. Matching that with anything found over the past day or so. Wow, is that all the security you got on that? Okay. Guys, she called someone named Bruce Bennett this morning from an payphone at the intersection of... And there it is. Barry, you and Heatwave should go.”

“And me,” Caitlin insisted. Mick turned to her with a raised eyebrow. “She might be hurt,” she said by way of explanation.

“Hey, nobody’s going anywhere without me,” Cisco added. “It’s my truck and my tech.”

--

It was not the most awkward car ride each of them had ever had, but it was close. Ten minutes in, Cisco made a rule that Mick and Caitlin were to sit on opposite sides of the car, and that under no circumstances was Barry to start playing “I spy.”

--

Barry found Sara sitting in the abandoned church around the block and up a dead-end street from the payphone she had called the politician Bruce Bennett from, glancing at her flip phone’s keyboard and at the unfolded origami piece on which some kind of code was written.

“She’s in there.” He gestured at the church after he had zoomed back to the van.

“Okay. Spot me. I don’t want to be arrested and executed in a case of mistaken identities.”

“Got it.”

Mick took a deep breath and settled forward on his feet a little, like he was walking around the prison yard when someone had a beef with him and set his face a little differently, younger, more earnest – he’d had to play grifter a couple times in Len’s plans, not often, but enough – then he stood up straight and smiled at them. Barry gaped at him. Cisco gave him a nod. Even Caitlin looked impressed.

Mick entered the church through a broken boarded door, which must have been how she had gotten in there in the first place. “Sara?” he called out.

There was a scuffling sound. Mick followed it and found a woman, who matched the picture he had looked at, sitting on the ground next to a bag. Time to act his ass off. “Sara. Hey,” he did his best impression of Linc’s voice.

She squinted at him. “Linc! What are you doing here?”

“We came back to get you,” he said.

She scrambled to her feet. “Where’s Michael?”

“You know Michael. Off making sure we don’t get caught.” It wasn’t a hundred percent a lie.

“Okay. Great. You heard the news about my father.”

He winced. “Yes. I did. I’m sorry.” He realized she was watching him. “There’s no way it was suicide.”

She nodded and stepped forward. “I agree. Someone came by to try to kill me in my apartment this morning and make it look like I ODed. Do we have a plan to reveal who they are?”

He tipped his head back and forth. “There’s a plan. For now, Michael just wants you safe.”

She took another step towards him. “Then let’s go.”

He looked around. “You have everything?”

She gave another nod. “Come on then.” He turned and started for the door and was pleased when he held the nailed up board out of the way for her and she took in from him with a nod of thanks that she was in fact following. So not as stupid in love as he was worried Michael might be, when Len had relayed along his message to go fetch and protect Michael’s crush.

The van was parked down the street. Really more of an alley way to the church, which was set back a little. Which meant not a lot of people between the church and the van. They were able to walk to the van uneventfully and without passing anyone who memory might twinge for two people they had seen on the news.

The van door slid open – thanks to Caitlin, who helped Sara into the van. “Who are you?” Sara asked.

“A friend,” Caitlin answered. Barry blurred in – Mick would really have to talk to him about the meaning of secret identity – and Caitlin helped Sara the rest of the way in, and Mick closed the door behind them.

“Linc, I don’t recognize any of these people. Where’s Michael?”

Mick sighed and pulled himself out of the posture he was acting. “Not Linc actually, Sweetheart.”

Sara lunged for the door. Mick caught her. She kicked him and attempted to open the window and call out. He clapped a hand over her mouth. She bit down. “Ow. Fuck. You want to bust up Tattoo’s plan?” She stopped trying to bite him and kick him. “That’s right. I may not be Linc, but your boyfriend still sent us. He wants you safe. And that place you were hiding? Not very safe. Got it?”

“Yeah, thanks. I gathered that, but it was safer than where I was, where someone tried to kill me. Now, if you don’t tell me who you are, I’m taking my chances.”

“Fair,” Mick shrugged.

Her eyes were adjusting, judging by how she was squinting less and less and looking around the van more. She turned back to him and surveyed him again. “Are you another brother of his? A cousin?”

Mick and Cisco laughed. “Not related actually,” Mick said. “But Prez and I laughed about it when we first encountered each other.”

“Prez? You call Lincoln Burrows ‘Prez’?”

Mick shrugged. “He’s named Lincoln and he got himself on death row for supposedly killing the President’s brother. I had to call him Prez.”

Sara shrugged but looked like any other day, she would have smiled at the pun. “What name do you go by?”

“Mick,” Mick introduced.

Sara turned to Caitlin and Barry. “Who are you?”

“I’m Barry and this is Caitlin.”

“I’m a doctor as well. Well, more of a research scientist, but I can provide medical care as well.” Caitlin gave a smiled and a shrugged. “Are you injured?”

Sara shook her head. “Good to know there’s another doctor in this.” She nodded at Cisco. “Who are you?”

“I’m Cisco. Pleased to meet you.”

Sara looked into the driver’s seat to get a face to match with his voice and name. “Hi. I’m Sara Tancredi.” She shook her head at herself. “Which… you already know.”

“We’re going to bring you to Central City, where you’ll be safe.”

“Aren’t you worried about the police?” Sara asked, giving Mick a glance.

Barry leaned over to her. “I’m a CSI for the CCPD. I’m keeping them off Scofield and Burrows.”

Mick scoffed. “No, you aren’t. Snart and I are doing that.”

“Snart? Leonard Snart?” Sara said, looking around the car at Barry, Cisco and Mick, and Caitlin.

“Mmm hmm,” Caitlin nodded.

“The Leonard Snart?”

Mick grinned. “The one, the only.”

Barry stared at Sara. “Wait? How do you know Snart?”

Sara shrugged. “Only by reputation. A lot of the inmates admire him for his ruthless efficiency in doing what he does and his ability to avoid arrest.”

Mick laughed. “He is awesome. Isn’t he?”

Sara paused frowning. “Mick, as in Rory?”

Mick grunted. “What have you heard?”

Sara shook her head. “Only that if you were ever in Fox River, I should be sure to keep you away from fire and anybody abusing anyone else. There was a list of people that should not go anywhere near you, actually.”

Mick tipped his head. “Yeah, I don’t put up with any sort of shit in the can. Prison’s got enough problems as is without adding prison rape to the list.”

Sara inclined her head. “You nearly took a guy’s head off for it.”

Mick laughed. “Sans been talking?”

Sara nodded. “Sans and a few of the others who were there when you stabbed Wolf Whistle.”

Caitlin huffed. “Wait. You know the same person? Is that what you’re telling us?”

Mick snapped back, “I was telling Dr. Kickass here, but yeah.”

Cisco tipped his head. “Dr. Kickass? Really?”

“Says the guy who nicknamed me Heatwave,” Mick said, “Besides, she clearly kicks ass. I think I have a bruise from that. Teeth marks,” he held up his hand “Kinky.” Cisco opened his mouth. Mick took on a more serious tone. “Fox River ain’t exactly the Ritz when it comes to prisons. Besides, you already been up against the people who managed to dunk Snart into a bathtub and left him there. Anyone that does that and comes out standing deserves the name Dr. Kickass.”

Sara smiled. “Thanks. And thank you for that image of torture.” She shivered. “Why would Snart have been subject to the same people who wants Linc dead and who killed my father?”

Barry said, “Uhh.”

Cisco winced.

Mick explained, “Tattoo and Snart look a lot alike.”

Sara spun around to him. “As similar as Linc and you look?”

Mick shook his head. “More so. Makes it a little awkward. Really hoping we aren’t related to them.”

Barry snorted, “You mean given that they’re brothers and you and Snart are married?”

Mick turned to him. “Yeah, that. In the future, Red, let us do the telling. If anyone finds out who could use it against Snart and me, like the Families, I’ll make sure you burn for it.”

Sara looked between them. “You’re husbands? With Snart?”

Mick puffed up. “What’s so hard to believe about that?”

Sara shook her head. “Only that from all reports Leonard Snart seems like he’d be more likely to kill somebody just for saying anything emotional than to take them up on that offer.”

Mick grinned and nodded. “I get the feeling that if he didn’t plan it, he would have. As it was, we filed the certificate in Boston, did a job there, got the certificate back, and got out of town before the pigs were any wiser.”

Sara shook her head and put her hand up between her and him, indicating he should stay outside of that radius. “I’m sorry. You’re a career criminal. I should…”

“You should what? Report me?” Sara bristled. Mick sat back. “You’re less kickass than I thought then.”

Barry, from where he had slid in the front passenger seat, said, “The CCPD knows where he is. And technically, there’s nothing linked to him in Central City still open.”

“I was still one of the doctors at a prison for a number of years,” Sara said.

Mick nodded, sliding into the seat closest to the door. “Which is why I’m just delivering you to Central City for Tattoo and Prez so you can stay safe and they can get to safety and then send for you to help find out who did this, Prison Doc.”

Sara slid into the empty seat next to Caitlin. “To Central City it is then.”

--

“Miss, I was wondering if I could make a call,” Sucre asked Lisa.

“To who?” she said without looking back.

“To a friend of mine, Petey, who leant me the bike.”

“Michael, you trust him?”

Michael nodded.

Lisa reached forward to the glovebox and pulled out a bag of phone. She fished one out and handed it to Sucre. “You know how to use a burner phone, right?”

Sucre nodded. “Course I do.”

“Good. Here you go.”

“Hi, Petey. How are you?... What? What are you talking about? Wait? What do you mean she said no? To Hector? Marita said no! I gotta go see her! I’m gonna call her first!” When he hung up, he was grinning.

Michael was too. “She said no to your cousin?”

Sucre nodded. “She got up to the alter and then she said no, Papi.”

Linc laughed. “That’s great, Sucre.”

Lisa said, “Do you have her number and do you trust her?”

Sucre flipped open the phone again. “One way to be sure.”

“Theresa. Don’t hang up! Don’t hang up!” he said into the phone.

“Here we go again,” Linc commented.

“I heard that Maricruz said no to Hector… Yes, I love her. Theresa, I love her so much!… Theresa, please, can you put her on? What? Why are you going to Mexico? So you’ve already booked it? Yes, I will wait here. Do you have caller ID? Have her call me back at that number.” He closed the phone and beamed. “Maricruz will call back within the hour.”

“Good job, Sucre,” Linc said when he had closed the flip phone.

“I told you she would say no to Hector,” Sucre said.

“Uh huh,” Michael said. “Mexico, huh?”

“They already booked the place for their honeymoon, so Maricruz and Theresa are going there as a vacation.”

“So I take it you want to go there,” Lisa said.

“Oh, hell yes. I want to go and see my Marita again and put my hand on her stomach and whisper sweet things to her as she falls asleep at night. And then I want to buy her a ring and propose to her. And be there when our kid is born.”

“You have a kid on the way?” Lisa asked.

“Yes.”

“Any ideas about names, Sucre?” Linc asked.

“I’m leaving names to Maricruz, man,” Sucre said. “Man knows when to get out of the way between a girl and baby names.”

Lisa smiled. “How far along is she?”

“A couple months.”

“When you come back, if you decide to, you’ve got a safe spot in Central City,” Lisa told him.

“For me and Maricruz?”

Lisa nodded. “And your kid. And the nice thing about Central is we’ve got great hospitals.”

“Thanks for the offer.”

“We might take you up on that offer if Panama doesn’t work out,” Michael said.

“You’d better clear your names. Otherwise, Lenny’s gonna be pissed off at you.”

Michael nodded. “We’ll get to Panama then work on clearing our names.”

Lisa inclined her head. “Good, because otherwise Lenny and Mick might have to take drastic measures, and I don’t want to know what those drastic measures are gonna be.”

Michael smiled. “Sucre, you should take her up on the offer. I think you’d like her team. Why don’t you tell him about Cisco?”

Lisa snapped her head around to glare at him in surprise. “What about him?”

“When you showed up to rescue me, I could swear I saw him looking like he had feelings for you.”

Lisa ducked her head. “He’s cute when he smiles.”

Sucre leaned forward. “Sis, you got it bad.”

“He had your number on speed dial,” Michael comment.

“What?” she said.

“I swear, Lisa, that means he likes you.” Sucre told her, “Do you like him back?”

Lisa’s cheeks lit up. “I won’t deny that spending time with him is nice.”

“Guys are idiots. You gotta tell him,” Linc cut in.

“Totally,” Sucre agreed. “I mean look at me. I went to jail because I was trying to turn over a bodega to get money to get Maricruz an engagement ring. And she still said no to my cousin.”

Lisa laughed. “Oh yeah? Well, Maricruz would probably have accepted your proposal even without a ring with how much in love with you it sounds like she is.”

--

Len was following their truck a few hundred feet back, far enough that it wouldn’t look to anyone like he was, close enough that he could still see if anyone else was following them too. He became aware of a black SVU he had been following for some time, tinted windows too, which meant they were following the truck and they were someone Important.

Len put a little distance between them and kept a close eye on the SVU, wondering what they would do when the truck they were tailing had to make a pit stop.

--

Cisco’s van pulled to a stop by a road block. “What’s this?” Barry said.

Cisco rolled down his window at the cops approaching. “Both of you, get down.”

Caitlin helped Sara under the seat, but it was tight. Cisco leaned out of the van to give them time. “Hi, officer, what seems to be the problem?”

“Where are you headed?”

“To Central City. Here’s my license.”

“We’re going to need to check your van,” the officer demanded.

“Why?”

“Because the Fox River Eight might have left someone up here and we’re checking all vehicles larger than a sedan, that’s why.”

“Okay then. Though we typically go on this route. I am my colleagues work for STAR Labs. And we run up here when we need to-.”

“The one that was responsible for Central City’s awful explosion a year and a half ago.”

Cisco winced and looked at Barry. “That one. The head researcher on that project is no longer with us.”

The officer said, “I don’t envy you. Now if you could pull off so we can let the cars behind you through.”

Cisco sighed. “Okay.” Cisco pulled the van over to where the officer had indicated as Barry turned around to the back seat of the van. Sara was nowhere to be seen, but Mick and Caitlin had expressions of concern on their faces.

“There’s no way I’m fitting under there, Doc,” Mick said.

Caitlin nodded.

Barry said, “What’ll we do? They’re going to inspect the car.”

Caitlin’s eyes widened with an idea.

“What is it?”

“Mr. Rory, you will take off your shirt if you know what is good for you,” Caitlin told him.

“What?” Barry said.

“Just do it. Unless you want to be on death row from a case of mistaken identity.”

“Uh.” Mick frowned, but began taking off his shirt.

There was a sound from under the seat where Sara was. Cisco and Barry gaped as well. “How much of you is covered in burn scars?” Barry asked.

“Arms, shoulders, back and ass. Why?” Mick said.

“Lincoln didn’t have any burns,” Sara said.

“Ahh. Smart thinking,” Mick nodded.

“Be as you as possible, short of lighting anything on fire,” Cisco said and left the van.

“As me as possible, huh?” Mick glanced at Caitlin, peeling his jacket off his shirts and throwing it back on.

“What are you doing?” Caitlin hissed.

“Gimme a second,” Mick said, rolling up his sleeves so they showed off his burns up to the elbow. Then he sat back down on the seat, tucking his jacket so Caitlin could still see his burns peeking out on his sides. “Now I look like me.”

Nonetheless, the second the door was opened, there was still a call. “It’s Burrows.”

The cop went to grab him. “Get the hell off me!” Mick shouted. “I ain’t Burrows!”

“Step out of the vehicle! Hands on your head.”

“Wait! He’s telling the truth!” Cisco said. Caitlin tried to grab Mick as he was pulled from the van.

“Cisco! Red! Caitlin!” Mick called out as another cop came over to tug on Mick as well. There must have been three of them all pulling on him at once. He reached for his pocket where his lighter was, hoping he could get them off of him for just a second.

Barry slammed the door open. “You got the wrong guy! I’m part of the CCPD! This is Mick Rory and he’s wanted in Central City! We need him to tell us how a bunch of fires were started! And no one knows fire better than Mick Rory, career arsonist!”

The cops let go of him. He was able to close his hand on his lighter, but the need for it was gone. They had backed off and were now focused on Barry. “CCPD? Prove it,” one of them demanded.

Barry pulled out his wallet and showed them all his CCPD ID. “See? Told you I was telling the truth. He’s consulting with us now ever since we got him help. And we need him to explain how a bunch of fires got started in Central City and whether we should believe the slum lords that they were accidents or whether they deliberately set their buildings on fire.”

Mick nodded. He could play along. “And no one knows fire better than a former arsonist.” He tossed his jacket back so the burns on his side were more visible and then set about adjusting his sleeves, leaving his forearms out in front of him where they could see the burn scars. Typically, seeing his burn scars got the same expressions on people’s faces. Yep, there it was, the expression of stupid horror as they tried to imagine how he had lived through the fire that he given them to him.

Cisco nodded. “I’m his friend.” He gestured at Barry, and we figured we could come pick up Rory here and the parts we needed in a single trip.”

“I was out of town, minding my own business, working at a metal work shop,” Mick said. “When these clowns busted in and begged me to come with them back to Central.”

“Okay, get back in the van.” They met Barry’s eyes. “Good luck with the arsonist slum lords.”

Barry nodded. “Yeah, we’re gonna need it.”

They piled back into the van and pulled out onto the highway again. Only then did Mick knock on the seat next to him and throw down a hand for Sara to grab. “We’re past the roadblock and in Missouri.”

--

Lisa pulled her truck into the last rest stop Arizona side of the New Mexico to have them get out and stretch their legs. Len watched as the black SVU pulled into the other side of the parking lot from them and pulled his bike halfway up the row from both the SVU and the truck. He got off the bike and began stretching, keeping an eye of the SVU. No one got out, just as he had thought.

So he began walking up and down the sidewalk, stretching his arms over his head, making sure his hood was up and his goggles were down. Still no one got out. They probably assumed their tinted car windows kept them safe from prying eyes. Len smirked. That was the thing about his goggles. He had gone all out when getting them made. Nice polarized lenses, the works. The windows wouldn’t stand a chance. Only thing was to get close enough to see who was inside. He stretched again and paced back and forth. At this distance, he could see their heads turn away, back to the truck and he was fairly sure he saw a set on binoculars in there. So they had been watching him, but deemed him not to be a threat. Just a normal guy on a bike.

Now that the truck had both their attentions he dropped behind a car and moved along the back of the cars in the parking lots. He unhooked his gun when he got to the last car, and then circled out to the main highway, out of even their periphery, and walked up to the SVU.

He got a good view of them – blonde lady and brown douche-cut-haired man in suits and guns, two each on them, packed a hell of a punch to if Len judged right, which he typically did, it was just he didn’t typically have experience with these types of guns. But he had been playing game with the Flash, and gotten good at spotting tells. If they reached for them, he would freeze their arms.

He knocked on their window. There was a scramble inside what sounded like guilty accusations. The window he had knocked on rolled down. The woman’s face met him on the other side. He focused his eyes on her and gave her a smile. In the corner of his vision, where he had to give them credit, he doubted he’d see if he was just a normal guy and not Leonard Snart, career criminal currently supervillain against the Flash, he could see the guy unhooking his gun.

He drew his gun and charged it up, aiming it at the guy, who froze, staring at it with concern. Smart guy. “Who are you?” Len asked of the woman.

The woman surveyed him, and the gun – which involved taking her eyes off his face and turning her attention to the gun, which Len had to give her, involved ball of steel and knowledge that he would not fire the gun – and then turned back to him and replied, “I work with your father.”

Len tensed, feeling like he had just slid an ice cube down the back of his neck. “My father?”

The woman smirked back as his smirk faltered. “Aldo Burrows. I’m given to understand you met him once when you were ten.”

Len exhaled. “This just got interesting.”

[abberryyang]

Heya of you were to give Arrow a do over what would you do differently and what would you keep the same? Also would you rewrite Sara because lord knows I would.

Well, it’s the cliché, I loved Arrow S1, otherwise, I only liked parts of S2 - everything else was: “…shit, I could’ve done better.”. 

Big thing’s I’d change right off the bat:

Sara’s existence: The only redeeming quality she has about her is Laurel’s love for her and the kindness she brings out from Nyssa - but, of course, even without Sara, Nyssa still would’ve met Laurel and they would’ve bonded over their fathers. Honestly, if Laurel never forgave Sara and Sara never showed she was sorry in Arrow100, I would never care for Sara - ever. There are two things I would do with Sara: 1) Erase her entire existence.2) Have her completely resent Oliver and profusely apologize to Laurel.The character we see of Sara on “Legends of Tomorrow” (S1) is completely different from the Sara we saw on “Arrow”, and one can argue the pit changed many things about her. Of course, that’s for a different post.

Felicity’s role on Arrow: Felicity honestly deserves better than to be Oliver’s sexcretary, eye candy for the male gaze, or a self-insert character for teen-girls/middle-aged-women. I would have her work with Lyla in ARGUS, where she is mentored by Wendy/Barbra, and she is only with Arrow as a “side-hobby”. I loved Felicity’s one-sided affection for Oliver, and I want her to find herself and realize she doesn’t need Oliver - instead, when Ray’s accident happens, she is consumed by grief and looks desperately for him. When Oliver and Laurel return from Ivy Town, Felicity seeks Oliver’s help, as ARGUS refuses to help her with her vendetta. Waller says Felicity’s too “emotional”, but Felicity argues her emotions will help her find Ray. I want more for her than Arrow has offered Felicity.

Oliver’s “darkness”: Honestly, this should’ve stopped the moment Oliver beat Slade, lbrh. Even in most recent episodes, Oliver’s greatest fear is Laurel, the person who has always saw the best in him, would see him as a monster, along with the rest of the women in his life: Moira and Thea. It’s in S2 that Oliver discovers the women in his life still love him: >Laurel still does not see him as a monster, instead she praises him, thanks him, and runs to him to comfort him. >Moira even shakes her head and says she always knew, and that she is so proud of him. >When Oliver tells Thea in S3, Thea accepts him whole-heartedly and gives him a hug. Oliver’s darkness shouldn’t be darkness, just bad habits that any human being would have as a natural response to trauma and about undoing those habits - Green Arrow’s focus should be where it was in S1: Humanity.

The big bad of S3: It should’ve been China White. Honestly, you got Katanna, Maseo, the flashbacks in China - it should’ve been China White, about disbanding the Triads on the docks. Hell, you could still introduce Emiko if you want, who gets close to Speedy and they are BFF’s. Emiko, Sin, and Roy are all vigilantes and Thea runs the night club who employs the three part time (total omg this belongs as a comment of it’s own)

The big bad of S4: Now this should be the Bratva, not Prometheus, and another gang - some say it’s a race war. The focus of this season would be gang violence.The Bratva hire a bunch of small time villains to take out their competitors, but to no avail because Oliver is constantly thwarting their attempts. It’s then that the head of Bratva comes in for a “visit”. Who is this guy? I don’t know, you tell me. I would love to have a present day Anatoly who was like, “Why the fuck did you kill your own brothers, Oliver, my men? You must pay up for your actions.” Shit like that, don’t just throw it under the rug, no matter what ‘mafia’ you are in. It’s a big focus on certain characters 

The big bad of S5: The Dark Archer and HIVE. Of course, since Colin is on another show, Malcolm, being called The Magician, asks Ra’s to find a way to switch out his son’s body (wayy early on) to another’s. Ra’s connects Malcolm to people who practice dark arts (such as Vandal Savage), who helps Malcolm achieve this thought-to-be-impossible feat. In another person’s body, Tommy swoons Laurel again, asks Oliver questions that only Tommy has asked him, and tries to be Thea’s brother (well technically he is, but…). Tommy fucks up Oliver’s entire life as revenge for what he took from him. “It should’ve been you who died in that building.”

League of Assassins:A constant threat to the world, but they mind their own business and stay in the shadows.

Nitpicky things I would change on Arrow:

Shado’s sister Mei: I really wish they would’ve used her more effectively, I feel like it’s strange that they are from the same family, but she isn’t a complete badass like her sister and dad? I mean, come on, would love the total Ghost Fox Killer thing happening for her.

ARGUS: Honestly, they deserve a show of their own, with Amanda Waller, Lyla, Digg, and Felicity. They all deserve better than the romcom the show has become and destroyed their characters in the process.

Never have Carly and Diggle together.

Dyla: Would drag out Digg and Lyla’s reunion, have them take time to getting married, give them a season or two and stay with the whole “reason why they decided to get back together is baby Sara”. Maybe even baby Sara wasn’t enough, it was the return of Andy Diggle.

Baby Sara: Also, I wouldn’t be a stupid fucking idiot and erase baby Sara, I would’ve just had it where Digg and Lyla never divorced because they had a baby boy who isn’t Oliver’s son in comicverse.

Andy Diggle: Give him a good reason to join Darhk’s side and remain there, give them an episode of flashbacks between just the two of them, another episode of flashbacks for their families, and another episode of just Andy and why he decides to be on Darhk’s side. John never knows or understands Andy, but we do - because even we agree with Andy that this world isn’t good. Have Andy be confronted by Carly, who finds herself in danger and Andy coming to her rescue, her saying, “It’s always been you, you’ve always been here.” Him saying, “I never left.” AJ never meeting his dad. I need angsty shit, all right.

Deadshot: I just need more of him since he survived the accident, alright, I need a lot more than just one scene.

Sin: I want more of her, I want her to be there for Thea, I want her to be in on everything and not needing to be the center of attention like another person.

Quentin Lance: I am so sad that they are putting him through his alcoholism again. Of course, I know that Laurel is his rock, but if you aren’t going to give him his rock back, throw him a fucking life raft.

Dinah Drake: I would love for Laurel’s mother to know of Laurel’s ‘potential’. Dinah is a scientist, who knew that Laurel has a special meta-human gene because they’ve been doing research for so long now. The reason Dinah left wasn’t because of guilt, but because she didn’t have the energy or time to deal with a breaking family when she was on the breakthrough of science. Dinah works alongside Caitlin Snow’s mom and on the side with Harrison Wells.

Wildcat:Retired vigilante who comes back after seeing Laurel’s fire, and protects his side of town. Is his own agency and continues to spar and train Laurel - also coaches the team of misfits with Laurel (Roy, Thea, Emiko and Sin).

Evelyn Sharp:Inspired by Black Canary, is friends with Sin from college, and joins the team of misfits in protecting the city in S3. Reckless, she leads the criminals back to her house and they kill her parents and siblings, leading her to a life of crime and anger. Mentions her friend Artemis as another person who “taught her a fair amount” of fighting skills.

Wild Dog:Trained by Wildcat after losing both his sons to gang violence in S3, René is so angry with what the world has taken from him. The mystery is solved when René finds out his son was in the gang and was trying to initiate his little brother into the gang. René is completely in shock, because he spent all his life telling his sons not to make the mistakes he did (joining a gang, selling drugs, and “living a bad life”). When René tells his ex-wife what happened to their sons, she blames him and leaves him. René hangs up his mask, completely ridden with guilt and despair.

Curtis Holt:Recruited by Ray Palmer for his amazing abilities in S3, they team up to be their own ‘super-heroes’. Curtis was a very serious guy until he met Ray who helped him to ‘lighten up’. Curtis says without Ray, he would’ve joined HIVE, and is thankful for him. When Ray disappears, Curtis teams up with Felicity to find Ray, and is the one keeping Palmer Tech alive in both their absences. HIVE wanted to make Curtis suffer for rejecting their invitation and had Curtis’s husband and the child they had just adopted that day tortured and killed, recorded it, and sent it to Curtis. Consumed with vengeance, Curtis dawns the name Mr. Terrific, what his adopted child would call him when they visited.

Rory Regan:Joins Curtis in his endeavors to avenge his family as HIVE is responsible for the death of his city, also hates Felicity to death and refuses to work with her, speak to her, or acknowledge her presence in the room. 

Tina Boland: A secret agent trying to figure out what HIVE is up to, joins their team to track them down. 

etc.

There’s a lot more nitpicky things, but those are just the more bigger ones lol

[ronyxfic]

Educating the Victim - Act V, Chapter VI

Pairing: Rose Quartz/Pearl, Ruby/Sapphire

Rating: Teens and up

Warnings/Tags: mentions of homophobia and transphobia.

Read it on AO3!

Educating the Victim Masterpost

(Previous chapter) (Next chapter)

CHAPTER 6: Open

Rose had to admit – she was a little nervous.

Because today was the day she’d take Pearl to the University open day.

She’d instructed Pearl to come to her house – after all, Pearl knew where she lived – and had made packed lunches for both of them.

Greg wasn’t there, and Rose was okay with that; it would probably only make things more complicated if he was around. She still didn’t quite know how Pearl felt about her dating other people.

She only realised she was watching the clock when she looked several times in quick succession and only a few minutes had passed.

Pearl, meanwhile, had only slept two hours. Her heart had raced ever since she’d realised they’d arranged to go out together. Like a couple. On a date. A real… Well, actually, it was perhaps the least ‘datelike’ outing they’d set aside time for yet. But the thought excited her nonetheless.

She’d ensured to look fresh faced - makeup had been applied from the crack of dawn. Everything had to be perfect and presentable. She didn’t want Rose to regret being seen in public with her. And she wanted to impress her.

Still, as the morning hours had passed, the knots in Pearl’s stomach grew. A cruel sense of foreboding. The university they were due to visit was the one a large amount of the girls at her school ended up in.

Pearl swallowed as she exited the door. Rose couldn’t protect her in that regard. Not from the way her own scars would make her act. Pearl glanced at the direction of the school as she walked. What if she ran into her old bullies? Or the people that had ditched her. What if, what if… Was this even a good idea? Would she even get into Uni?

She thought of turning around. Calling to Rose to tell her she felt too sick to come. Maybe even bailing out without a word.

No. Rose didn’t deserve that. Not after everything. She swallowed, feeling paranoia over what Marigold had said. If Rose was treating this like some form of casual affair, she wouldn’t be bothering to take her out. Unless Uni was just a way for her to get rid of Pearl. She clenched her fists.

It was too late to turn back, however.

She’d made it to Rose’s home, once more. Her fingers dusted the doorbell before ringing.

Pearl was exactly on time; and yet, Rose still managed to be startled by the doorbell.

She hurried to the door and opened it, beaming at Pearl. Her student looked prettier than ever.

“Good morning, Pearl!” Rose said warmly. “Do you want to come in for a quick coffee before we head off?”

“Oh, of course!” Pearl’s mind flipped back to disordered thinking in the nanosecond. Coffee. Low calorie. Appetite suppressant. She bit her lip. “It’s so cold out, I could use something to warm me up.” No milk. No sugars. “Can I have it extra milky? Two sugars.”

She’d learnt through therapy that sometimes, the only cure to things and such a thought process was doing the complete opposite. No matter how much it hurt. Her skin crawled where her bones were no longer as obvious. Covered.

But she needed to recover. For everyone that she’d hurt in the past half year. “How are you this morning?”

Rose’s heart warmed at Pearl’s words. “I’m very well, thank you! How are you, Pearl?”

The kettle had already boiled, so Rose waved her hand at Pearl to come inside with her and closed the door before going into the kitchen to make coffee. One for her, one for Pearl. The mugs already set out. Rose had hoped Pearl would come inside.

“You can go to the living room, if you want,” she told Pearl. “I’ll be through with the coffee in a bit.”

And sure enough, she brought the mugs less than a minute later.

Pearl settled herself on the sofa. Feeling her thighs take up more space than they had in months. She took a deep inhale. She didn’t need to think about it. Just to breathe. Be aware of her body, and to accept it.

It was difficult when she still struggled with hating it. Hating herself.

She smiled at Rose. “I’m so excited for today! Oh, goodness! It’s been a while since I was anywhere near the Uni. There’s bubble tea there!” Surely, things should be fine. She was no longer pining for Rose. It was real. She was closer than she’d ever really hoped to get to her teacher.

And yet, something about it just didn’t… feel real. She thought she’d start to love herself if Rose really loved her. But Pearl still hated herself. And that in itself wasn’t anyone’s fault. Not even hers. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t trying. She picked up the coffee and took a sip. “Anything planned for next week?”

Rose sat down next to Pearl, not bothering to keep any kind of distance between them. She sipped her coffee, then put it down.

“Oh, nothing too exciting,” she said. Just some more plotting to overthrow their Principal… but it would not be wise to bring that up to Pearl. Not yet.

“I’m going on a date with Greg, though,” Rose said. “On Wednesday evening. That’ll be nice – I’ve not had enough time with him since school started again.”

She was acutely aware of all the places where she was touching Pearl. Their arms, their thighs. Rose wanted to kiss her again.

Pearl nearly missed out what Rose was saying, too lost in her touches. They made her skin jolt with static. But once she’d processed some of her words, her stomach felt tense. “Oh, yes.” She attempted to smile. “You have fun with him.” A part of her wondered if they had sex. Would it be any of her business to ask? Was that how poly things even worked? Oh, man. This was a lot more complex than her initial impression of this relationship. “Hey. It’s the careers fair soon!” Her mind thankfully came out with a distraction. “Oh, no. Blue’s going to be at school. And Aurora.”

Rose could tell that Pearl was distressed by the thought of Greg with Rose. But if Pearl didn’t ask about it, Rose wasn’t going to talk about it more – even though she probably should. But the speed at which Pearl changed the subject was indicative of how comfortable Pearl was with the whole thing.

“Aurora is always at school, though,” Rose said. “What’s Blue like? You don’t talk about her a lot.”

“You’ll know her when you see her. She and I don’t... get on. But she’s always sucking on Aurora’s a...arrogant opinion, you know?” Pearl rubbed the back of her neck, frowning as if she’d just tasted something gross. “I guess me and my family just don’t generally get along. While Aurora’s over emotional and will react to anything, Blue just… she doesn’t. You start to kind of realise that she makes up her reactions to manipulate you. And God, is she a sadist. She used to tear bug legs off in front of me when we were younger, just to freak me out.”

A deep frown on Rose’s face. That did sound like the kind of person who would not handle Pearl very well. And if she really was like Pearl described her…

It reminded her far too much of Roxy to be comfortable with it.

“Will she be staying at yours for the fair?” she asked.

“Actually, no!” Pearl clapped her hands. “She’s refused to come home since the New Year. I’m surprised, really. She’s mom’s favourite - she earns the most money from her games and stuff. But! She’s still going to be at school, and we’re required to attend the fair. That is her succesfully infiltrating my space. I don’t want Principal Diamond’s accommodations for me to just disappear. God, she’s done so much for me.”

“How could Blue do that?” Rose wondered aloud. Accommodations? What was Diamond doing – how was she manipulating Pearl? Rose’s suspicions grew by the minute, and if she was honest – if Blue could help in getting Pearl away from Diamond, then that was a chance she was willing to take.

“Oh, man. She left school seven years ago.” Pearl gritted her teeth. “You must’ve not been around to teach her. But I’m sure if you ask any of the resident teachers… they will have plenty of stories about Blue. They say she was born with an anarchy tattoo. If you go to the girl’s loos at one am, you’ll hear the trickles of the broken sinks sing of the rabbit incident. Or, like. Go to Leggy about that one, she was the one who caught Blue, and the rabbits.”

Rose gave a startled laugh. “That sounds like quite a story,” she said. “Care to elaborate?”

Pearl swallowed. “Well, it all started off with a set of fake ID’s and a sex shop.” And then took a sip of her coffee.

Rose checked the clock. They didn’t have much time left. “Go on,” she said.

“Okay, so. Blue and Aurora were both the biggest troublemakers the school had ever seen. Blue was the mastermind, Rori did the dirty work. And together, they made it into a sex shop. Bought like… seven rabbit vibrators and numbered each and every one of them, except for the seventh one, which was labelled as eight. And that’s when they decided to also go to the petshop. And they got seven rabbits.”

Rose listened, fascinated. She had not actually heard of this particular prank, despite being at the school for several years now. “Okay,” she said, encouraging Pearl to go on.

“So, Blue told me that this one time, she and Aurora got into a debate over the Principal’s religious stances and all that - I don’t believe she’s that bad. But Blue was utterly convinced that the Principal would freak out far more over there being a mass of sex toys in her school, while Aurora was totally siding with the rabbits, because, hey. Those were living rabbits. You can’t just have them running around the school.”

Rose smirked. To think that back in her school days, Aurora had plotted pranks against Diamond… Rose decided that Blue was probably not the greatest person, but she could appreciate her sense of humour.

“To be honest, I’d be with Blue on this one,” she said. “Carry on.”

“So, the point of the labelling shindig was to ensure that the Principal wouldn’t be able to find all of the toys. They’d think there were eight, but in reality, well, they missed out number seven.” Pearl shrugged. “So one morning, they came in, and let loose. It took them half an hour to get noticed. One hour, apparently, for the school senior leadership team to get involved. Mostly because kids were running around with sex toys and live animals. It took two hours for the general pandemonium to settle in. But, yeah, Blue won that one. Apparently Principal Diamond ended up screaming in frustration over a pile of vibrators.”

Rose chuckled. “I’m not surprised. Interesting. I can’t believe I never heard about this.” And Diamond had had it coming.

Although – maybe the way she was treating Aurora now was a form of payback for past pranks.

“I doubt that anyone really rose up against the Principal after Blue left school.” Pearl finished the coffee. “And a good thing, too. She does so much work for us. Even me. She doesn’t deserve anything bad. Honestly, I’d defend her to the ends of the earth.”

Rose’s smile dropped immediately.

“Pearl –“ she said, then fell silent. How, how could she warn Pearl about Marigold? If someone had warned Rose about Roxy years ago –

She probably would not have listened.

But Pearl and Marigold were in no relationship. God, at least Rose hoped so.

Pearl cocked her head Confused. "What's up?" she enquired, clearly interested by the look of worry on Rose's face.

Rose sighed.

"I'm just... worried," she said hesitantly. "Diamond is... bad news, always has been, whenever she gets fixated on a student. She might act nice, but chances are she has an ulterior motive, and chances are it's not as nice. Just... be careful, please. People have died. Literally." She shivered at the thought of Lars. "And I couldn't bear to have anything happen to you."

Pearl frowned. "I trust her, though. I mean... yeah. She says questionable things but..." She shrugged. "She's hot."

Rose stared at Pearl.

She's hot? That's her justification for -

Her thoughts were interrupted by her phone alarm going off, reminding her that it was time to leave.

"We need to go," she said. "Have you got everything?"

"I believe so!" Pearl beamed. "Oh, I can't wait!"

Rose smiled at Pearl's enthusiasm. "It should be good," she said. "Maybe you'll meet some interesting people and figure out what you'll do after school. I still think you'd make a great scientist."

Pearl only shrugged at this. "Maybe. At least going there would mean I'm close to Amy. I don't think I could cope with losing any more people." She looked away. "It would be nice if just for once, I could start gaining people back instead of losing everyone."

"Hm. Does Amy know what she wants to do yet?" Rose asked. "Is she going to stay in the area, then?" It was probably better to let Pearl focus on the friends she had now, rather than the ones she'd lost.

Rose stepped outside, wrapped in her coat, then cast a warm smile at Pearl and held out her hand to her.

Pearl took it, blushing. "I don't think she has said anything to me about plans. Then again, I don't think she really cares."

"Hmm." Rose frowned. "Maybe I should have taken her along. But then again -" She smiled at Pearl and squeezed Pearl's hand, interlacing their fingers. "I wanted this to be something for just you and me."

Pearl felt the corners of her mouth twitch into a smile. She brushed away her fringe and gave a small nod. "I hope it'll be spectacular. Though... any time with you always is."

This brought a warm, genuine, loving smile to Rose's face. Oh, she loved Pearl. She loved her. "I'm glad," she said and gave in to her impulse to pull Pearl close and kiss her.

Pearl smiled into the kiss. It never grew old, kissing her. It always excited her. Made her beam. Felt... good. She touched her teacher's hair. "You are so wonderful, you know."

Rose's heart fluttered. Her cheeks warmed.

"So are you, Pearl," she said gently. Stayed close to her for another long moment, touching Pearl's cheek, then squeezed her hand, smiling. "Come on - the train isn't going to wait for us."

Pearl nodded, the rush in her chest still present. But she realised it was a little calmer now. A little gentler. Pearl didn't love her any less. Rose had just began to feel like home.

The journey was uneventful; they found themselves at the university about an hour later. The open day was signposted and Rose held Pearl's hand as they navigated the campus.

"Anything in particular that you're interested in?" she asked Pearl.

Pearl gave a small shrug. "I didn't even think about going to uni before getting invested in biology. Let's just check that out."

"Sure!" Rose smiled, squeezed Pearl's hand and made her way to the Biosciences stalls. She remembered them from previous years; they were with the STEM fields in general, clustered around in the great hall dedicated to the fair. It was getting busy; they were by no means the first.

"Oh, goodness!! It's so exciting!" Pearl remarked, stepping out. "Just look at these projects, oh, I'd love to work on something like that. And they have extracurricular societies here, too? Fencing?"

"Yes, indeed!" Rose said. "You'll have to be careful with your knee, but I'm sure you'll find something fun! Do you want to go up and talk to anyone?"

Pearl felt a flush come over her cheeks at the mention of her knee. "I'm, uh, sure there's some student representatives around here."

"Yeah!" Rose beamed. "They'll be able to tell you all sorts of things about the course! Look, here we are." The Biosciences stall was squeezed in between Chemistry and Engineering; several other students were crowded around it.

Pearl sheepishly followed suit, trailing behind the students. Holding onto Rose as if she was terrified to lose her. She wouldn't, of course. Or would she? She swallowed as Diamond's words briefly swam in her mind. Her gaze flickered over Rose's face - her teacher was completely unaware of her secret doubts. Perhaps it would be appropriate to bring them up. Be honest. But what if Rose would dump her over her fears? What if she... didn't think Pearl was poly enough because of her fear of being left behind. Pearl swallowed. Looking away. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. "I think I might actually take a look around myself."

"Really?" It came as a surprise to Rose. "I mean, sure, if you want," she said quickly. She hadn't expected Pearl to want to leave her side; she ignored the small pang of anxiety this gave her. Pearl would have given anything for her attention before. Had something changed?

"Well, you have my number, so you can just call me if you need anything," she said, smiling at Pearl, careful not to let her feelings show.

Oh. Oh. Rose wanted her to go, then? Pearl tightly scratched the insides of her fists. Her nails had recently been manicured. They weren't sharp. It meant she only needed to dig deeper with her blunt little claws. She forced a smile. "Alrighty! I'll see you later, Rose!" A chipper tone. The second she turned around she was shaking. The corners of her eyes were moist. A deep, unsettling pang was something she was now fighting to keep down. She loved Rose. Rose loved her. She was just being unnecessarily paranoid. It was fine. Or was it?

Incidentally, two of the student reps were Sapphire and her partner Ruby.

As Rose turned away from Pearl, Sapphire noticed her former classmate and nudged Ruby.

"What? What is it?" Ruby said, then spotted Pearl in the crowd. "Ooooh... look who it is!"

And before Sapphire could stop her, Ruby had called out for Pearl loudly.

A voice. A familiar voice bellowed through the crowd of students. Pearl turned to the mention of her name. She twisted on her heel, and her heart began to pound. Oh no. Oh. No. Not this. She remained frozen for a second too long, locking eyes with Ruby by accident. She then attempted to escape the scene, but realised the only ofther path contained Rose, and she really didn't feel like going back there. Or explaining what was happening. She forcibly turned around and faced the two.

"That... may have been a bad idea," Sapphire said softly.

"Oops." Ruby blushed.

Sapphire raised a hand to wave at Pearl and dragged Ruby behind her to meet her. "Hello, Pearl!" she said pleasantly. "Long time no see. How have you been?"

"Oh, much recovering from that time you deserted me!" Pearl gave a haughty giggle. "Goodbye!"

Sapphire was not as taken aback as she, perhaps, should have been. She'd seen it coming.

Ruby, on the other hand, was not so subtle.

"What do you mean, deserted you!" she said loudly.

"Keep your voice down," Sapphire warned.

"Oh. Yeah. But. Pearl, you just refused to talk to us after your accident. I wouldn't really call that us deserting you."

Pearl had turned to leave but then twisted on her heel. "Excuse me?" She added a few extra syllables to the question. "Every time I asked my parents if you'd come and visit me in hospital, they told me they hadn't seen jack shit of you. None of you answered my messages! I went through months trying to cope with losing you guys. Having my friends grow up and leave me behind for a year. You're awful. Both of you."

Sapphire squeezed Ruby's hand. Holding her back. Ruby would make this worse.

"You're overreacting, Pearl," she said calmly. "That said, we should have tried harder to keep in touch after leaving school. I really don't have an excuse for that. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, I'm sorry too," Ruby said meekly, following her girlfriend's lead. "We'd love to be friends again, though!"

Pearl was a little taken aback. She'd anticipated more drama. Everything in her life had always been filled to the brim with it.

Then again, the psychiatrist at the hospital had told her that was a part of her personality disorder. "Truth be told," she muttered, holding her ground. "I missed being friends with you, too. I guess we should probably talk about what happened. But... this might not be the best place. I'm here with..." She turned to the direction of Rose. "My gal pal. To look at the uni. I might come here."

"You have a girlfriend??" Ruby grinned at Pearl. "Can we meet her? That's so cute! Our Pearl, a gay like us! And she's here? Where is she?"

Sapphire, on the other hand, was slightly less excited.

"I agree that we should talk about this," she told Pearl. "You are welcome to visit anytime you like. We have a very nice little flat not far from here."

"I don't have much planned after schools now that I don't do dance." Pearl gave a bitter look. Her stomach swam with butterflies. A strange sense of camaraderie in being able to come out to her old friends. "You. Um. Know her. I don't know if you're going to approve."

"Oh, of course." The accident. Sapphire felt a pang of regret. She really should have tried harder to keep in touch.

Ruby on the other hand was still very focussed on Pearl's girlfriend. "Oh, who is she? C'mon, Pearl, you gotta tell us!"

"You might see her around." Pearl swallowed. She suddenly felt very awkward. What if they thought it was problematic or wrong? It wasn't. It really wasn't. She balled her fists. "She's... from school."

"Oh? So why do you think we wouldn't approve?" Ruby said.

Meanwhile, Sapphire scanned the crowd. Sure enough, a few seconds later she'd spotted a familiar face.

She turned to Pearl.

"Are you dating Rose Quartz?" she asked, mild surprise colouring her voice.

Colour drained from her face. Pearl looked down. She struggled to answer. "It's... not what you think."

Sapphire didn't smile. "I'm fairly sure it is exactly what I think," she said, "but that doesn't have to be a bad thing. Does anyone in the school know?"

"Just a girl from my year." Pearl shrugged. "She's kind of my only friend and I had to confide in someone. But... I'm nineteen. It's not exactly illegal. And I'm. So in love. You have no idea."

This time, Sapphire smiled. Ruby skipped to her side and curled her hand around Sapphire's.

"You always were a very intense person," Sapphire said. "Which again isn't necessarily a bad thing. Does she make you happy?"

"Very." Pearl nodded. "Though I feel she's trying to play it safe. I don't think we're really girlfriends yet. We're just... acquaintances with smooching benefits."

"That's probably for the best. You have a few months until you graduate."

"Hey, Sapphy," Ruby interjected, "do you think we should say hi to Miss Quartz? She's, like, one of the nice teachers from back then."

Sapphire considered this. "What do you think, Pearl?" she asked.

"I'm sure she'd be happy to see you doing so well!" Pearl nodded. Feeling a pang of jealousy of just how close Ruby and Sapphire were. "I'm sure she's going to come and get me soon, anyway. She's my ride home."

"Okay then, let's go!" Ruby said, tugging Sapphire along. "C'mon, Pearl! Hey, Miss Quartz!"

Rose turned around from looking at the biology stalls. Surprise was clearly etched on her face as she saw Ruby, Sapphire and Pearl coming towards her.

"Hello there!" she said. "Now here's a surprise! Ruby, Sapphire, how are you?"

Ruby beamed. "We're doing great! Uni's been way better than school, and I'm actually doing what I wanna do."

Pearl couldn't help but feel there was an innuendo in there somewhere. She could only shrug, still envious. "I haven't seen these two since last year. I didn't even know they went here."

"It's good to see you, Miss Quartz," Sapphire said. "How is the school?"

Rose shifted, rubbing the back of her neck. "Same as always, really," she said. Except that Diamond's homophobia had taken a turn for the more extreme.

She gave Pearl a warm smile and let her hand rest on the small of Pearl's back. Gentle; reassuring.

Sapphire didn't miss the motion, but said nothing.

Ruby, however, did. "So, what's Diamond's stance with you two, then?"

Pearl pursed her lips, eyes widening. She hadn't expected her relationship be brought up. Now Rose would think it was something she gossiped about!

Rose stared at Ruby. Then at Pearl. Then at Sapphire, who seemed completely unfazed.

Then at Pearl, again. She'd not talked to these two for almost a year but disclosed their relationship within... minutes of meeting them?

When she answered, Rose's voice was rather... cold. "I'd honestly prefer to keep mine and Pearl's... situation," she said, raising an eyebrow at Pearl, "as private as possible. For both our sakes."

Pearl gave an awkward laugh. "Yes. Um. These two were just telling me about the university opportunities. Right, Sapphire?" She spoke the last two words through her teeth.

"Oh, yes, absolutely," Sapphire said smoothly. "The university has a very wide range of different courses. What did you say you were interested in, Pearl?"

Rose didn't buy it, but she let it go. She'd have to talk to Pearl about it later.

"Should I leave you to catch up?" she asked. "Pearl, we still have a few hours 'til our train home, so I don't mind."

"Yeah, sure!" Pearl forced a smile, glaring at Ruby, who seemed to have caught the mood and now looked very sheepish.

"Okay then," Rose said pleasantly. "You can call me if you need me, okay? We could have lunch before we go home." Without Ruby and Sapphire, preferably. Not that Rose would ever, ever admit just how shaken she was by the entire situation.

Sapphire watched as Rose left, then sighed once she was out of earshot. "That... could have gone better."

Pearl stepped forth, annoyance spread over her features. "Ruby!" She hissed. "Do you really not know any discretion?"

"Okay. So I figured you wouldn't be loud and proud but geeze. She was touching you. I figured we could at least talk about it." Ruby gave an awkward shrug, apology nowhere to be heard in her voice.

Pearl could only scream into the empty air in front of her.

Sapphire kept her cool.

"A little more tact would have been appropriate, Ruby," she said gently. "Pearl, I apologise on my girlfriend's behalf. I hope Miss Quartz is okay."

"Probably a little shaken." Pearl swallowed. "I wonder why. It almost seemed like she had something to hide." She then shrugged, giving a mild little titter. "That's not like her at all. We've pretty much been at full disclosure."

"Well, you will have plenty of time to talk to her after this," Sapphire said.

"Yeah! I'm sure it's okay," Ruby said. She blushed a little. "Sorry, Pearl."

"So, do you want to go get a drink or something? It seems we have quite a bit of catching up to do." Sapphire gave a small smile.

"Yes." Pearl gave a little nod. Eager. "It's been ages. And it'll be healthy."

"Great!" Ruby beamed. "There's a really cool pub not far from here -"

"- though for some civilised talking, a cafe might be more appropriate," Sapphire cut in. "What do you think, Pearl? Have you eaten?"

Pearl swallowed. Eating with people still felt hard. They couldn't know. They shouldn't know. "Whatever you'd like! You know this area better than me."

Ruby shot a look at Sapphire, who immediately recognised it as Ruby trusting Sapphire's judgement on this.

"Cafe, then. There's one just around the corner, and they serve food too, if you're hungry. Shall we?"

"Yes, sure. Should I let her know? Or... do you think she'll get that I'm with you guys?"

"Text her to be sure," Sapphire decided. She slipped her hand into Ruby's as they started walking towards the cafe.

Pearl nodded, and eyed their closeness as they waddled out. Pangs of envy still hitting her hard. She couldn't do things like that with Rose yet. Not in public. Did... Rose not want to be seen with her in such a way? Pearl put her phone away after a quick text. She wrote 'I miss you' and then quickly deleted it. They weren't close enough for that.

Just how close were they, really?

On the narrow sidewalk, it ended up being Ruby and Sapphire walking in front with Pearl trailing behind. Sapphire and Ruby didn't need many words to communicate, so the walk was mostly silent.

After a few minutes, they arrived and found a table.

Pearl let the couple sit together, feeling her mood slowly begin to sink. "So. Uni life. Been going good? Many parties? Crazy drugs?"

"It's not nearly as crazy as people want you to believe," Sapphire said calmly.

"Well, at least if you're like Sapphy here and never do anything fun," Ruby added. "It can get pretty wild!"

"I do fun things," Sapphire said.

"Yeah, if you consider sleeping a lot and uttering ominous phrases 'fun'," Ruby said fondly, pecking her girlfriend's cheek.

"You two sure haven't changed a bit. Doesn't matter if it's a year or five thousand. I don't think you could ever change." Pearl gave an amused look, fiddling with the cutlery at the table.

"Well, we aim to impress," Sapphire said, smiling.

"And be the gayest in the land!" Ruby added with a grin.

"Anyway, Pearl, how have you been?"

"As good as I can be. Had an eventful Christmas. Took a little time off. Had some disagreements with family. But the principal is helping me deal with it!"

Ruby did a double take.

Sapphire didn't show her shock quite as obviously.

"Is this... the same Principal that was there a year ago?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah? Diamond? She's really good!"

Sapphire said nothing.

Ruby cast her an alarmed look, placed a hand on her arm.

"Pearl," she said, since Sapphire didn't seem to react, "you... do remember how she treated us when we were still at school, right?"

"Uh, yeah, but she doesn't know I'm gay!" Pearl bit her lip. "Or that I'm seeing a teacher."

Sapphire was still not moving. Ruby stared.

"That doesn't make her any less homophobic!" she said, her voice rising. "She's an asshole, Pearl! She's oppressive and awful and - and - Pearl, how can you say she's good when you know what she's done?"

"Okay. I understand. And I'm sorry bad things happened to you. But I beg of you to consider this -" Pearl looked at both of them and then gave a little shrug. "She's kinda hot."

Sapphire finally shook her head lightly, as if coming out of a trance. "Pearl, that is not an adequate reason to get involved with someone so toxic," she said. "You should know that."

"Yeah, man, this is bad," Ruby said, "even for you."

"But she's helping me. She's got my sister off my back. And yeah, she's been grilling Rose a little but... she's got no proof. Of anything."

Ruby gaped. "Do - do you even know how easily that can change?" she said, upset. "She could find out anytime - and if she does you're screwed!"

"Seriously, Pearl," Sapphire said. "You should be far more worried about Diamond than your sister in this scenario."

"She's just been giving me some special attention. It's because... I was in hospital. And she wants me to settle in better. And she's offered to give me a special history lesson."

"You were in hospital again?" Sapphire said, grateful for the chance to change the subject. This was like running into a wall. She sighed internally; they weren't going to change Pearl's mind.

"Yeah, did you bust your leg again?" Ruby added.

Pearl looked around awkwardly. "Yeah. That's about it. Kind of landed me in there for a month. Not fun."

"A month is a long time to be in hospital for your leg," Sapphire observed.

Ruby shot her a look. There was something more going on here.

"Haha, yep! It sure was a long time. Missed Christmas with my family. That sucked."

"Hmm. Sorry to hear that." Sapphire pushed her hair out of her eyes, looked at Pearl. "You're better now, though?"

"I guess. You know me. One problem after another." Pearl shrugged. "But at this point I'll take any help I can get. Even if no one trusts them."

That told Sapphire all she needed to know. "Well, that's good then," she said.

"Except there's probably a reason for why no one trusts Diamond," Ruby said.

"But anyway," Sapphire said quickly, not wanting to start that again. "Do you want to talk more about what happened last year?"

Pearl shifted a little. An uneasy look spread over her features. "I suppose. It's just upsetting to think about."

"I'm sorry about that," Sapphire said. "Truly, I am. But I feel many things were left unsaid, and it would benefit all of us if we could actually talk about it openly now. But if you don't want to, that's okay too. We won't judge you."

"I felt that you guys, all of you, just deserted me after I couldn't dance anymore. None of you visited me in hospital!"

"I know it's not really an excuse," Sapphire said, "but we were busy. Finals and deadlines and - and other things..." She cast a look at Ruby. "But please be assured that we never actively deserted you. I just had a lot of things on my mind at the time."

"That doesn't change the way I felt about the whole thing. When I suggested my own dance instead of the group one, you didn't support me at all. It just felt really bitter and when the accident happened I was so scared of you all laughing at me."

"Well, it was supposed to be a group dance, wasn't it? And everyone already knew you were the best dancer there, so a lot of people felt like you were just shoving that into everyone's faces," Ruby said, a little awkward. "But we all felt really sorry when you had that accident."

"Exactly, though. There was a talent scout there. I could've gone far from that night on. But I'm here." Pearl realised she'd began to shake a little. "It's okay, though. I'm making it. And I probably wouldn't have gotten together with Rose if I'd left."

"It's good that you're thinking positively," Sapphire said. "I understand that you really wanted to shine that night, but we wanted it to be something for everyone. I'm sorry you took it personally, it wasn't intended that way."

Pearl sighed. "I guess it was selfish. But it still fucked me up. I already struggle with feeling hated so actually being hated... was bad."

"Nobody there hated you, Pearl," Sapphire said gently. "And I knew most of them reasonably well."

"Yeah! I mean it's not like being selfish is gonna make everyone hate you," Ruby added. "Loads of people are selfish all the time! We didn't hate you and we don't hate you now! We can still be your friends."

"If you want us to," Sapphire said.

Pearl sighed in a manner that could only be described as uttermost relief. "Yeah. I'd like that a lot."

"Good! You should come visit again," Ruby said. "We have to run off in a bit again, be student reps at the open day - but we should totally meet again and catch up more!"

Sapphire nodded.

Pearl smiled. Yes. This felt right. "Of course. Shoot me a message whenever you're free."

"We most certainly will," Sapphire said. "It's been good to see you, Pearl."

Pearl gave a nod. "You two, too." She watched them leave. Ease setting in her belly over the relief of their exchange - and the fact that she didn't need to eat.

Meanwhile, Rose had grown uneasy as time passed - she didn't really want to be here without Pearl, and she hadn't heard anything from her.

So she texted her, 'Do you know how much longer you'll be? I miss you. RQ xxx'

Pearl saw the text immediately and gathered herself up. 'Just a sec. Just got done. Brb xx'

On her way back, she passed through some stalls clearing up. She realised she'd spent the day here but still hadn't found anything she wanted to do. Well. Except Rose. But that much was obvious.

An engineering stall of all things, now deserted and with a somewhat desperate looking rep, caught her eye. The projects looked interesting. The skills needed were hers.

She took a leaflet with a smile as she found her way back.

> Act V, Chapter VII

[samdukewieland]

Stuck Inside Media Diary Week 8

Something that’s been nice about going back through Mad Men has been re-reading/re-visiting old Sepinwall recaps on the episodes. I read him religiously throughout high school and college, amongst others, but have since drifted from the recap on shows, for no good reason. Probably because there’s generally a podcast I can just listen to rather than read something (jock at heart-sorry ¯\_(ツ)_/¯). This supposed to be a lesson in “go back and experience stuff from your high school years?” man, I don’t know; the venn diagram of things I did in high school and the things I do now is not small (or is it not big? What’s the best way to convey a lot of similarities with a venn diagram, size-wise). 

Sunday, May 10 (Mother’s Day)

The Third Man, Reed 1949

I was not super digging this while I was watching, it was late when I started watching it and it’s not slow exactly, but I was real curious how egg-zacktly Orson Wells was going to fit into the picture. Mysteries! I tells ya. Anyway, I’ve been stewing in it and realized, “huh, I think I actually like this movie quite a bit.” I think the Britishness, while not in your face, was secretly chipping away at my brain, already war-torn by tiredhead and then having a second wave of dry, British storytelling. Pretty good li’l picture (you could say that about movies in the 40′s-this isn’t uncommon).

Top Chef, Season 17 episode 4

This was done in an attempt to help my mom catch back up with Top Chef, which somewhat moved the needle, but I don’t think an episode (on her end) has been watched since. Mother’s Day: ruined.

Mad Men, “Tea Leaves”

My mom also watched this one with me, only because she just happened to be in the room. Her biggest hurdle with this show and her refusal to watch it is based solely on the fact that phones are ringing “all the time” and that “no one ever answers them.” Hard to refute it. She seemed mildly entertained by this episode, considering she had close to zero context for what was going on, thought that it was Ginsburg’s debut episode played some part into that. Pretty disorienting episode to be thrown into, what with the whole....Fat Betty thing (I was going to say “elephant in the room of Betty” but that just seemed cruel and trying too hard to try and be clever. An interesting, though ultimately aimless direction to take Betty this season and everyone involved kind of knows it.

The Last Dance, Parts 7 & 8

That this was the penultimate week of new Jordan doc created an unusual energy around the episodes, which were exciting in their own right as they went over his father’s murder, his baseball career and returning to basketball. But the thing that induced the most goosebumps was the “cliffhanger” (I am a moron) showdown between the Bulls and Pacers. 

Monday, May 11

Icarus, Fogel 2017 [as of now this is available on Netflix]

Kinda nice going into a documentary knowing hints of what it’s about and trying to figure out when it transitions to being about “X” but then you slowly realize you misremembered that information your friend Tommy told you and are surprised that it becomes about the Russian state (very possible I am misusing that term; just trying to sound smarter than I actually am). I don’t watch or know enough about documentaries to confidently state what’s a good one and what’s a great one-I think this one received some kind of critical backlash after it won Best Documentary, which happens. There’s definitely an intellectual superiority to saying you think less of a documentary that either wins that award or a lot of people like (in this case, both!). It’s engaging and accessible (another thing snobs hate) and has a misdirect that doesn’t blind side you; I don’t even care about the Olympics, but I felt sucked in.

Monty Python: Almost The Truth (Lawyers Cut), “The Much Funnier Second Episode - The Parrot Sketch - Flying Circus Included”

This one had more focus on the influence Flying Circus had on writers/comedians who were watching it at the time as kids (primarily). Lotta dudes. I can not stress how there are few things less appealing than hearing Russell Brand describing why Monty Python was funny (this was very much made in 2009).

Mad Men, “Mystery Date”

Some more Sopranos karaoke, though constructed a little bit better this time. This is also the episode that decides to flesh out Dawn (Don’s secretary, a joke that is never not funny) a little bit more, however Mad Men only does this when there’s “something to be said” about being black, which didn’t look great in 2012 and *flips through pages of notes* nope, still doesn’t look good here either. I suppose an argument you could bring up that is awfully flimsy is that they didn’t want to paint themselves into a Nikki and Paulo situation, in terms of never actually caring about digging deeper into Dawn’s story. I dunno man, I’m not trying to cast stones here.

Tuesday, May 12

The Taking Of Pelham One, Two, Three, Sargent 1974

What a white whale this movie’s been for me and brother, it feels good to have finally caught it. It’s insanely cool to go into a movie not knowing that it’s the 1974 version of Inside Man with a little bit of Dog Day Afternoon spliced in (pre-DDA mind you). This movie is packed with so many sarcastic assholes all working together in the same place, I loved it! I loved this movie! Cataloged in my brain as a Stop-Down-And-Watch if it’s on cable. However, my biggest gripe here is that Walter Matthau’s character is named “Zach,” a name that has never once been mistook for Walter Matthau’s; like there’s no way that they had Matthau casted before they came up with his name.

Mad Men, “Signal 30″

Beginning of the end of having any remote kind of sympathy for Pete Campbell. Hitting on high schoolers and shit. He wants so badly to be what he considers to be the best version of himself and will never be there.

Parks And Recreation, “The Set-Up”

Don’t know what it was about this particular viewing, but it landed better than it ever has this time around. Usually when I watch it, Arnett is so distracting and a much different energy than the show has created, but I don’t think I’ve ever laughed as hard watching this one as I did on this Tuesday morning. 

Wednesday, May 13

California Split, Altman 1974 [as of now this is available on Prime]

Hell yeh. Another movie I’ve been trying to see for a couple of years now, but feels nearly impossible to come across or find (note: to be fair, I have never checked to rent digitally, because I just don’t do that really ever, feels weird I don’t know why) and I found out on Tuesday night that it was put on Amazon Prime almost unceremoniously. I am by no means a gambler, so I have no idea if this is a good gambling movie, but it’s an incredible relationship and addiction movie. My introduction to Elliott Gould was Ocean’s Eleven where he is the opposite and still the same as the characters he played in the 70′s. The man has a debilitating incapacity to be effortlessly cool, even in a movie that he co-stars in with George Segal. I loved this movie.

Mad Men, “Far Away Places”, “At The Codfish Bowl”, “Lady Lazurus”

A great highlight of Don realizing he’s made a huge mistake marrying a 26-year-old. A great highlight of Roger Sterling is great with kids (and their grandmothers!). A great highlight of “Tomorrow Never Knows” fucking rules and uh, maybe wondering if Alexis Bledel is good? (certainly Rory Gilmore is good and it might’ve just been a “choice” to play this character so wooden, especially with what we know comes later on in the season)

Thursday, May 14

Cape Fear, Scorsese 1991

Apparently Spielberg was supposed to do this originally, but thought it was too violent and threw it over to Marty to get Schindler’s back from him (imagine trading those properties amongst yer friends-incredible). What’s real strange here is that he did’t give this to De Palma (I guess because it would’ve been in the wake of Bonfire), but it doesn’t really matter because Marty just goes and makes his version of a De Palma movie. It’s weird! However, when I wasn’t thinking about all of those things and being amazed at how much overt gore there was (overt for a Scorsese movie), I was shocked at the music I associate most with Sidewhow Bob (hold for Gilbert & Sullivan) is actually Max Cady’s music; like I knew that it was just Cape Fear but I had no idea it was just Cape Fear. 

Mad Men, “Dark Shadows”

Can’t go a season without a Don is actually Dick Whitman story/episode. That’s about it.

Friday, May 15

Becoming Mike Nichols, McGarth 2016 [as of now this is available on HBO]

This saved me a lot of time in the long run, should I ever read that new(ish) biography on Mike Nichols. It’s a pretty cut and dry interview focused purely on the prologue of Mike Nichols’s career, that’s a lot more interesting if you’re a theatre kid who doesn’t despise theatre kids (you know the type). Honestly, I was most engaged once Jack O’Brien pivoted towards his directing career outside of the theatre. Also gonna expose my ass here and say I didn’t realize Elaine May was that Elaine May-might’ve been a better interview if it was between two people who’re on equal level rather than a guy trying to kiss Mike Nichols’s and a bunch of theatre kids’ asses.

Mad Men, “Christmas Waltz”

This episode only exists to help punctuate how awful the next episode is, but damn if it’s not weirdly great. The Paul/Harry reunion was such a weird reunion, but only because it reminds you of how much time has passed since the beginning of this show (1960) to when it takes place now (1966); the total shift in aesthetic and thinking is massive, but it never feels shoehorned in.

Top Chef, Season 17 episode 9

Colicchio is pretty adamant about not having past challenges affect the decision of the current week’s choice in terms of sending someone home, but Melissa probably should’ve gone home this week if that were the case. They obviously weren’t going to after kicking Kevin off last week and Malarkey making the least offensive dish of the bottom 3. Melissa’s a front runner, same as Kevin was and you can’t have a competition where Malarkey is on but two frontrunners are kicked off back-to-back weeks (even if it was Kevin falling on his sword). Love Lee Anne, been with her since season 1 and hate to see her go, but she’s bigger than Top Chef-this is a loss that doesn’t make me think less of her.

Saturday, May 16

Notes On An American Film Director At Work, Mekas 2008 [as of now this is available on Vimeo]

I don’t know what to call this, honestly. It’s a videos of Martin Scorsese directing The Departed and it’s kind of fascinating. There are no sit down interviews, but snippets of conversations that you’re just thrown into the middle of. It could be that I just love him so much, but it was reaffirming to see that he (appears to be) is like a genuinely nice person. I don’t read about behind the scenes/making of’s, but I don’t really think he’s got any kind of reputation for being some kind of tyrant on set and this proves it (if he needs that proof for any kind of reason). It is one of those things though where watching actors, uh, act feels kina silly-apologies to Leo DiCaprio.

Mad Men, “The Other Woman”, “Commissions And Fees”, “The Phantom” [season 5 finale], “The Doorway” [season 6 premier], “Collaborators”

An incredibly harrowing stretch of episodes for Mad Men, maybe the best set-up for a finale the show has. The awfulness of the position they thrust Joan into and that Don is the only clear objector to this, be it that he only cares enough about the company is heartbreaking. Christina Hendricks wears so much disappointment and contempt on her face so well and that what happens is sandwiched between those interactions with Don is incredible. And awful. As is Lane’s suicide in the office (I still remember watching this episode for the first time when it aired and it’s as depressing now all these years later as it was back then; Lane and Bodie are probably my top-2 most upsetting television deaths that come to mind). Though it all seems worth it, despite how depressing it might be, for that scene between Peggy and Don where she resigns, an incredible parallel to Megan’s. I’m glad it wasn’t, but if they wanted to series wrap on Peggy there, they could’ve and it would’ve felt so incredibly earned, which you can see through both of those characters trying their hardest to choke down tears through a conversation smothered in so much understood in the unsaid. Now welcome, Bob Benson! (for the life of me, I can’t figure out if they introduce Bob like this intentionally, because it’s so fucking funny in how out of synch it is with everything else going on in the show)

Apocalypse Now, Coppola 1979 [as of now this is available on HBO]

It was either during my sophomore or junior year of high school when I became absolutely enamored with trying to watch this movie. I had built it up to such great heights in my head for whatever reason (I was very concerned with appearing knowledgeable about things like “important movies” and that this didn’t win best picture whatever year it was nominated fueled that fire even more ((I was also very concerned with being outraged over something like this)). I vaguely remember squeezing it in on a school night, but didn’t try and sneak it upstairs to my room to watch, like I tried to get this almost 3½ hour movie in under a reasonable bed time for a high schooler (I definitely didn’t have one, but I remember getting kind of dirty looks around the house if I was still hanging out past 10:30). So it was basically self-inflicted homework at that point, so I remember saying that I liked it, but I don’t know if I honestly believed it. And then that just gets all shaken up in your dumb high school brain that’s already trying it’s best to be super contrarian that you start believing that Apocalypse Now maybe sucks or at the very least isn’t as good as Hearts Of Darkness (a movie you won’t see for another 8 years). I had not watched this movie in its entirety since high school, and I knew all the big beats going into re-watching this, but it might as well have been that I had never seen it before. Man. I was a dumb as hell high schooler. This movie is electric and looks beautiful and I’m so glad that I never watched it all before this and decided to revisit it and I’m now furious at myself for letting the opportunity pass to not see it in theatres when it was remastered last year. 

The Adventures Of Tintin, Spielberg 2011 [as of now this is available on Netflix]

I was reading the oral history of Fury Road earlier that day and it got me really jonsing to watch Fury Road. For my mental health’s sake, I decided to not double feature Apocalypse Now and Fury Road, but rather Apocalypse Now and The Adventures Of Tintin. People of a certain generation really hate this movie and I kind of get it, but this movie rules. There’s maybe two sequences in it that I’d feel unashamed for putting up in the Spielberg Hall Of Fame.

[junker-town]

How to watch Riviera's Genesis Open live online, TV schedule and more

Riviera is arguably the best stop on the PGA Tour and this week’s field is loaded, even with Tiger unable to play.

There is really nothing better than the PGA Tour’s annual stop at Riviera. This isn’t a major and it would be stupid to compare it to one, but the Genesis Open, which is what we’re now calling this event at Riv, has a very strong case as the best tournament on Tour in the non-major category. Yes, that includes all those loaded WGC events and even The Players (arguably — Riv has a case, is what we’re saying).

The field is always strong. The destination is unlike any other on Tour, dropped in the middle of Hollywood. The time of year makes everyone else freezing in most other parts of the country badly want to watch in envy. And the course, well, that’s what sells this regular stop on Tour. It’s a classic, historic layout that is a welcome change up from so many of the TPC venues that populate the schedule. It oozes character and has several holes where you wouldn’t mind just posting up for an entire day and watching how each and every group decides to play it.

The most famous hole at Riviera is the 10th, which has a cult following and appreciation. It’s a short little drivable par-4 with a thimble-size green surrounded by all sorts of impossible lies, bunkers, and spots golfers commonly call “jail.” It’s a beautiful risk-reward hole — not very long but capable of wrecking an entire scorecard with some huge crooked number. Most players love it, some think it’s a gimmick and hate it (Bubba Watson, not a fan). The 10th at Riv, for the fans, is often the most beloved hole on the PGA Tour and fortunately, there will be a live stream up and running there at the crack of dawn on Thursday and continuing throughout the week as part of the “featured holes” coverage.

The full stable of streaming and TV options will be available this week, commensurate with the kind of legendary event and loaded field this Genesis Open demands. PGA Tour Live will be running by 9:30 a.m. for the first two rounds, which is pre-dawn 6:30 a.m. stuff out in Los Angeles. There are so many names to choose from for their featured groups streams and the two clusters they have going each day may be the best we see this year. Spieth, DJ, Phil, Bubba, Sergio, Day, Rose, Scott, JT, Hideki... the names are the who’s who in golf right now and everyone has made it to Riv. If you don’t have a subscription, well, this might be the event worth signing up for on its own. It’s that good -- cancel after a month if you want.

Of course, this Genesis Open could have been so much more. This is now a Tiger Woods party. When Hyundai’s Genesis brand took over as the title sponsor, they named the Tiger Woods Foundation as the charitable beneficiary. That brought Tiger back into the fold as an unofficial host in the same way he has at Congressional and TPC Boston. His foundation helps run things and Tiger shows up and plays — something he hasn’t done at his hometown event in a decade after several poor showings at Riviera.

But not only will Tiger not play this week, he may never even show his face at the exclusive Pacific Palisades club. That’s because Woods is laid up in his hotel room, staying “horizontal,” as his agent put it, and following doctors’ orders to limit “all activities” following these sever “back spasms,” which is what his agent is still calling it. That led to a rescheduling of his Tuesday press conference to Wednesday and then a total cancellation of his appearance before the media. It sounds like he won’t make it to the course for anything this week — not the PR giggling, the visit to the TV tower, anything. So that’s a blow, along with Rory McIlroy having to back out with his own rib injury.

Tiger is the biggest draw in the history of the game so his absence will certainly impact what could have been monster ratings. Even without Tiger and Rory, there are so many reasons to watch an event that truly begins the pre-Masters prep stretch of the schedule. In addition to those multiple PGA TOUR LIVE streams, Golf Channel and CBS will split the TV coverage on their usual schedule all week and have the typical simulcast streams going too. Here’s the full media slate for the week at Riv (all times ET):

Thursday's first round coverage

Television:

2 to 6 p.m. ET — Golf Channel

Online streams:

9:30 a.m. ET -- PGA Tour Live starts with coverage from range and opening holes

9:30 a.m. to 10:50 a.m. ET — Free PGA Tour live stream on Twitter

Featured Groups (PGA Tour Live subscription required)

10:22 a.m. ET -- Phil Mickelson / Sergio Garcia / Jim Furyk

10:32 a.m. ET -- Dustin Johnson / Adam Scott / Justin Rose

3 to ~6 p.m. ET -- PGA Tour Live featured holes coverage (No subscription required)

2 to 6 p.m. ET — Golf Channel simulcast stream

Radio:

Noon to 6 p.m. ET — PGA Tour Radio on Sirius-XM (Ch. 92/208 and streamed here)

Friday’s second round coverage

Television:

2 to 6 p.m. ET — Golf Channel

Online streams:

With rain expected to hammer Los Angeles all day Friday, expect multiple delays. PGA Tour Live will stay on the air well past the scheduled 6 p.m. ET end time and likely until play is called for darkness or rain. They did this on Thursday with the marquee groups until play was called -- those late groups on Friday would be the two threesomes from above that were featured on Thursday morning. All of this, of course, is subject to change as the storms roll into LA.

9:30 a.m. ET -- PGA Tour Live starts with coverage from range and opening holes

9:30 a.m. to 11:30 a.m. ET — Free PGA Tour live stream on Twitter

Featured Groups (PGA Tour Live subscription required)

11:02 a.m. ET -- Jordan Spieth / Bubba Watson / Bill Haas

11:13 a.m. ET -- Hideki Matsuyama / Jason Day / Justin Thomas

3 to ~6 p.m. ET -- PGA Tour Live featured holes coverage (No subscription required)

2 to 6 p.m. ET — Golf Channel simulcast stream

Radio:

Noon to 6 p.m. ET — PGA Tour Radio on Sirius-XM (Ch. 92/208 and streamed here)

Saturday's third round coverage

Television:

1 to 2:30 p.m. ET — Golf Channel

3 to 6 p.m. ET — CBS

Online streams:

11 a.m. to 6 p.m. ET — PGA TOUR LIVE featured holes stream and featured groups stream

1 to 2:30 p.m. ET — Golf Channel LiveExtra simulcast stream

2:30 to 6 p.m. ET — PGATour.com/CBS simulcast stream

Radio:

1 to 6 p.m. ET — PGA Tour Radio on Sirius-XM (Ch. 92/208 and streamed here)

Sunday’s final round coverage

Television:

1 to 2:30 p.m. ET — Golf Channel

3 to 6:30 p.m. ET — CBS

Online streams:

10 a.m. to conclusion (darkness is 8:40 p.m. ET) — PGA TOUR LIVE featured holes stream and featured groups stream

PGA Tour LIVE tentative schedule

10 a.m. ET — Featured group stream for 3rd round — Dustin Johnson / Pat Perez / Cameron Tringale

1 p.m. ET — Switch to featured holes coverage of 10th/16th

2:30 p.m. ET — Afternoon featured group coverage

1 to 2:30 p.m. ET — Golf Channel LiveExtra simulcast stream

2:30 to 6:30 p.m. ET — PGATour.com/CBS simulcast stream

Radio:

1 p.m. ET to conclusion — PGA Tour Radio on Sirius-XM (Ch. 92/208 and streamed here)