#are they in the same time zone or did the murphys do an extra little new year’s celebration just for niles. i’ll let you decide

[the-terrible-theys]

⚠️ spoilers for last laugh below btw if you haven’t read it

tonight i am thinking about niles’ first holidays Without miles. the first new year’s eve in years that he spends alone in his room—just like he always used to before miles came into his life. it’s a routine that should feel familiar, but instead leaves him with a hollow ache in his chest. he’s grown a little too fond of and a little too accustomed to spending the night at the murphys’, to participating in their traditions. it’s strange to be without that, tonight. it’s something that never used to bother him, but now, it’s strange to be alone. everything felt different, when miles left, and everything continues to feel so, even after so many months.

the party his parents are holding downstairs is loud enough to hear even over the songs niles has playing from his radio, and it’s hard to focus on his book when strangers keep shouting the time—thirty minutes to midnight, twenty minutes, fifteen, ten. niles gives up on his reading and goes instead to his window. the low lighting of his room doesn’t create much of a reflection on the glass, and so he can see each distant firework with perfect clarity. the crowd downstairs continues to shout numbers: seven minutes, six, five. the window is cold where he leans his temple against it.

at the two minute mark, his phone rings.

he nearly tips a stack of biographies in his hurry to cross the room. he finds himself answering without even registering the caller id.

on the other end of the line, his best friend’s voice greets him back warmly. and just like that, niles feels all the loneliness seep out of him, out of the room, out of the night.

miles starts going on about how he would’ve called sooner if not for a “cupcake incident”, and then judy murphy’s voice rings in the background, telling miles to put the phone on speaker. niles hears the telltale click of the lighter followed by the hiss of two sparklers, a tradition he’s grown familiar with.

niles makes his way back over to the window. bursts of color erupt from over the hills, echoing faintly. the party downstairs is louder than ever, but niles is only focusing on the countdown miles has started over the crackling phone line—“twenty-eight, twenty-seven, twenty-six—”

on his windowsill is a lighter and an opened pack of sparklers. he sets the phone down next to them and turns it to speaker so that he can have both hands free. niles joins in on the count—“twenty, nineteen, eighteen”—as his now-practiced fingers slip a sparkler from the pack and ignite the lighter with only minimal struggle.

his stick bursts into light as they chant in sync, he and miles, with ms murphy right there in the background. their voices raise as the seconds tick by—“eleven, ten, nine!”

the shouts from downstairs grow in volume, too, but they feel far away and oddly off-beat. niles doesn’t pay them mind. he holds the phone closer to his ear with one hand and holds his sparkler out with the other. it glows captivatingly bright in comparison to the faint lamplight of his room. the tepid heat it puts off somehow feels consuming; his very heart is swaddled in warmth, it seems. and he knows it’s because of his best friend’s exuberant chant ringing across the line.

the final numbers are a dizzying blend of deja vu and newness. a fleeting thought crosses his mind, of how it’s funny how different all the years end up being, even when they all end in similar ways. niles doesn’t have the time to linger on it, though, and adrenaline sweeps it out of mind as he calls out the last seconds.

he and miles yell “ZERO!!!” in the same instant, loud enough to make the phone echo oddly for a long moment, jumbling their subsequent shouts of “HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

it’s chaotic and warm, and it’s different—like everything has been since miles left—but it’s still good. he still has this little tradition, and he still has many years of knowing his best friend to look forward to. it’s different, but it’s also just the start of something new.

thinking about miles murphy and niles sparks celebrating new years together.

niles riding his bike to miles’ house that evening, judy murphy insisting he have dinner with them. she makes one of niles’ favorite meals because she knows he’d be coming over and she goddamn loves this boy, and niles damn near cries over it. this is the first new years niles can remember that he’s spent doing anything other than sitting by himself in his room with his nose in a book, avoiding the annual new years party his parents always have going downstairs. (it was never as if he was banished to his room or anything, of course. niles has always been free to join everyone downstairs if he pleases. it’s just that it’s always loud and there’s always too many people and he barely knows any of them and no one there is anywhere near his age and there’s a certain awkwardness to being the only kid at a party for adults, and. just less overwhelming to keep to himself.)

judy has to leave because she works odd hours as a nurse, and as disappointed as she is that she couldn’t get the rest of the night off to spend with her son, she’s equally glad that miles won’t be spending the night by himself. miles has niles. she leaves them with matching hair ruffles and a pack of sparklers and a “be careful, i mean it, call me right away if anything happens, love you”.

miles and niles leave with an hour ‘til midnight, ride their bikes side-by-side through the dark, reach the top of the hill that holds their carefully selected firework watching spot (they’d spent the previous couple of days scouting out potential spots and choosing between those for the best possible view) with twenty minutes to spare. niles slings off his backpack and pulls out a bottle of faux-alcoholic sparkling apple juice. miles has never had sparkling apple juice before. they drink it from paper cups. miles decides he does not like sparkling apple juice. niles likes it even though it tastes like shit.

they pull out their sparklers, prepare to light them up as soon as the clock hits midnight. this is a tradition miles has held with his mom for many years. he’s glad to have a second person to share this with. he’s glad that that person is niles. niles starts whispering the countdown in time with his watch, and miles’ practiced hands light his own sparkler with ease as they shout the final seconds. niles fumbles with the lighter, can’t get the stupid stick to work right, so miles puts his hand over his friend’s to guide the lighter. niles finds himself getting distracted by the way the sparks look reflected in miles’ eyes, almost loses count. his own sparkler catches right as they yell ZERO!! and, oh, they both feel so alive. fireworks go off all around them in brilliant bursts of color and sound, and they’re waving their sparklers high in mimicry, and their breath clouds in the cold air, and this is the best new years eve that niles sparks has ever had. this is the best year he’s ever had. and that’s all because of miles.

they—niles and miles, both—look forward to annual repeats of old traditions, to starting new ones. to more years together, and more ends of years together, and more togetherness in general. it’s the best new years eve either of them have ever had.

[notelcol]

In which John Murphy steps out of his comfort zone.

Trigger warning : blood, reference to violence.

No one asked for this one but it’s here anyway and vaguely edited 😈

(It came out a little longer than intended, I got ever so slightly carried away…)

When Murphy came back from the grounder prison camp, despite him being the bully of all the delinquents, you couldn’t help but feel guilty. What did Bellamy expect after exiling his once second in command? We should have seen this coming. The grounders would have been fools not to take Murphy for all the information he had. Blood was smeared all over him. You couldn’t tell where it was originating he had that many wounds. The image of his torture made you shudder. Even his fingernails had been ripped from his fingers. You looked away. Forgetting all the times you had needed to confront him to protect others, you made a choice.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” You asked Clarke, the only person with medical experience.

“You can find someone to go with you to the path that leads to Mount Weather.” She said with a sigh. “The poison sumac there would be really helpful.” The tired blonde uttered her thanks, while you left to find Octavia. She would most certainly accompany you.

Murphy watched through one eye, since his other was tightly inflamed. He could not fathom why you would be willing to risk your life leaving camp, simply to acquire a calming herb to ease his plight. Especially because the last time you saw each other, you were fighting him to save a child. A child who murdered the chancellors son, and got him hung to within an inch of his own life. Murphy hated you for that, so why didn’t you? The child you were trying to save did die because of him after all. He was a black and white sort of man. One who never understood forgiveness. A person would come to blows once and that’s it, they are dead to him. He always stood by those very rules. Until you, who only fought him in the name of peace. Which is why risking yourself to help someone who truly needs it, came natural to you. Even if it meant giving a second chance to someone like Murphy.

Unfortunately none of the hundred felt the same way as you. After failing to find Octavia, you begun asking around camp for someone to go with you. When that also failed miserably, you decided to grab a gun and head out alone.

The expedition went as well as you could have hoped. You did not feel the many eyes of the forest on you for once. In fact, it was so calm outside of camp that it almost spooked you. You decided to grab extra of the plant while you were there, to save Clark and Fin a job. Finally, your bag was full and it was time to turn back. You realised that you were a little bit out of breath after a few steps. You must have been picking the flowers for longer than you thought.

The walk back to camp felt much more tiring, so your feet began to drag. You could feel the sweat dripping all over your body, particularly annoying you around your top lip. Huffing, you removed your coat and wiped away the sweat from your face with it. You moved to tie it around your waist, only to be hit by a wavering buzz. It sent your whole body spinning. You watched your coat drop to the floor and finally noticed the blood. All that blood, covering most of the garment. You were so dazed that you didn’t even notice you had fallen.

“Get. Up.” You growled to yourself. Sputtering thick crimson, you clawed at the mud. This must be biological warfare. Your symptoms too similar to Murphy’s to be a coincidence. This revelation only cemented your determination to get this poison sumac back to camp. If you had caught it, then others must have too. Your mind went round in loops while your arms refused to rest. Until you inevitably exhausted yourself and dropped your head to the forest floor.

Murphy was finally starting to feel better. The countless patients in the drop ship could not say the same. As he gave water to a quiet girl named Fox, the fabric around the drop ship door ruffled loudly. Miller came rushing in with you slumped in his arms, blood and dirt covered you to the point where you were almost unrecognisable. He watched as you were dropped into a hammock. A strange feeling, one he could not identify, filled his chest as your bag spilled open revealing the many poison sumac flowers you had brought back.

You awoke to the feeling of something cold and wet on your forehead. You groaned at the heaviness in your lungs, which only caused the blood to gurgle and spurt from your mouth. As you choked, your eyes shot open to be faced by Murphy. His eyes almost went as wide as your own as he quickly removed the cold cloth from your head and pushed you onto your side. Your breath shook in relief. Instantly oxygen came easier, and the blood drained away.

“Rest.” He spoke in a softer tone than you thought was even possible from Murphy. Of their own accord, your eyes fell closed once more. The blood was wiped from your face in a manner that felt more like caress, helping you drift away peacefully to your dreams.

For the first time in his life, Murphy had entered his personal grey area. Your undeserved kindness showed him the world through a lens other than his own rage and paranoia. He decided then and there that he would take care of you until you recovered. Allowing himself to believe it was getting even, when really it was something else entirely. It was simply another thing he had yet to understand.

[egcdeath]

checkmate

summary: you’ve always refused to lose, and love was no exception. (gone girl-ish au)

pairing(s): ransom drysdale x dark!reader, a special mystery guest ;) 

word count: 3.7k

warnings: 18+ because of heavy themes! faked death, framing of crimes, manipulation, alluding to sex, alluding to cheating, terrible relationship dynamic, very loose usage of the word crazy/psychotic, implied mention of self harm, brief choking & slapping (in a non sexual way lol), pregnancy trapping (idk if thats the right term), the reader is a very bad human being, overuse of italics  *please let me know if i’m missing any warnings!

author’s note: this is my 2nd submission for @stargazingfangirl18’s 5k soft dark challenge, i decided to make the reader dark >:) but ransom is also not a good person. I used these prompts: “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.” & The town golden *girl isn’t as sweet as everyone thinks.

this is definitely the most unhinged thing i’ve ever written, but blame @literate-lamb for making me write this because when i pitched this to her and said that i’d probably never write it, she enabled me. 

okay that's enough from me. join my taglist if you want :D

“I know women whose entire personas are woven from a benign mediocrity. Their lives are a list of shortcomings: the unappreciative boyfriend, the extra ten pounds, the dismissive boss, the conniving sister, the straying husband. I've always hovered above their stories, nodding in sympathy and thinking how foolish they are, these women, to let these things happen, how undisciplined. And now to be one of them! One of the women with the endless stories that make people nod sympathetically and think: Poor dumb bitch.” Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl

Your whole life, you’d considered yourself a competitive person. Constantly overcompensating for one thing or another, whether it was the chronic desire to achieve perfection that had been installed in you since you were a little girl, or your persistent internalized sense of inadequacy. You realized early on that it was much better for you to win than for you to lose, no matter the physical, emotional, or mental cost of the prize of perfection.

For the most part, this mindset worked out for you. You graduated as Valedictorian from your high school, neared the top of your graduating class at Harvard. God knew you earned it, all those tears you shed into overpriced textbooks, all the popping of unprescribed Adderall, and robbing yourself of the parties and social events that the rest of your peers gladly indulged in. 

You were just different, which was why you gained a job nearly immediately after your exit from school, quickly climbing to the top at the Blood Like Wine publishing company after only a few years of being there. 

And one night, at the party celebrating the release of A Thousand Knives when you laid your eyes on Hugh Ransom Drysdale, the grandson of your boss, you knew that you needed to have him. Rich, hot, a bit of an asshole. You deserved to finally complete your image, and that socialite flavored eye candy seemed to fit the part perfectly. Luckily for you, he was desperate. It only took a few tugs on your dress’ V-line, and a number of knowing smirks to find yourself being finger-banged in his family manor’s bathroom.

From there, you wormed your way into his life. Leaving belongings at his place as an excuse to come back, and offering booty calls in the middle of the night. Ransom must’ve been much more desperate than you originally thought, as it really only seemed to take one night of stroking his hair while he vented about his family to make him want to be with you. Men with mommy issues were always so easy. 

Except, he wasn’t that easy. The longer you got to know Ransom, the more fucked up you realized he really was. He had no boundaries at all, became jealous and enraged at the drop of a pin, and occasionally told you things that made the hairs on your arms rise. 

This of course all came to a head after the night of Harlan’s 85th birthday party. When the news broke of his tragic death, you’d immediately known it was the works of your Hugh. If your intuition wasn’t enough, his confession in the shower, where he’d demanded you take off your clothes to display that you were without a bug, certainly was. 

You were completely devastated. The man that you’d invested so much into for years had thrown both his and your reputations down the drain in just a matter of hours. Of course, you felt bad for Harlan too. He was a good guy (when he wasn’t instigating a family fight).

Still, you showed up during the funeral in your best mourning clothes and dawning your biggest crocodile tears. You rubbed Linda’s back while she mourned the loss of her father, and the new truth about her husband. You played dumb when interrogated by some Southern private investigator, even giving Ransom an airtight alibi. You testified on his behalf in court with enough conviction to grant you an Emmy. 

You’d gotten so far, devoted so much energy into him, that you simply refused to lose now. 

To your friends, you’d seemed to lead a near perfect life. Dream job, dreamy boyfriend, dream bank account, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted more, you just didn’t know what. 

It dawned on you while sipping mimosas at the country club, Ransom playing tennis with his friends just a few yards away from you while Danielle showed off her brand new engagement ring, a .59 Carat Asscher Diamond, that if you heard her speak of again, would probably make you lose your shit.

You zoned out as she droned on and on about the shape, and how Matt proposed to her in their own private room in one of the most exclusive Parisian restaurants, instead focusing on how you could find yourself in the same position as that airhead next to you. In all honesty, you couldn’t stand the idea that someone was doing better than you, let alone someone in your own social circle. Dani got all the bragging rights of being engaged to the heir of some tech giant, being the first in your friend group to get eloped, and worst of all, Matt wasn’t even making her sign a prenup. 

You blankly watched Ransom from afar, taking occasional sips from your sweet drink, while you thought of how you deserved all of that and more, and you were going to get it one way or another. 

——

It didn’t take much to come up with something, your first and most obvious plan being to simply ask Ransom when he was going to propose to you. Of course, this wasn’t the first time you’d tried to approach him about this subject, you just wondered if maybe this time things would be different.

Panting heavily after a rather rough night in bed, you rolled off of your boyfriend’s chest and gave him a messy, yet sincere kiss. You knew your man well, and if there was any time to pop the question, it was in his post-nut haze.

“Baby,” you said breathily, “I wanna ask you something.”

“Shoot,” he responded casually, glancing over at you. 

“When’re you gonna propose to me?” you hummed.

Ransom groaned and shook his head, rolling his eyes, “this is about Matt and Dani, huh?” he tutted, then extended a hand out to your warm cheeks so he could gently caress one with his thumb. “Thought we agreed marriage is just a piece of paper and it’s stupid.”

You huffed in response.

Of fucking course.

“I never said that,” you muttered, setting a hand on his broad chest. “Besides, it’ll be good if you get pissed and decide to like, kill your dad or something. Y’know, spouses don’t have to testify against each other in court.”

Ransom chuckled as if this whole thing was funny, like your feelings were some kind of sick joke to him. “You know my lawyers, babe. They could prove that bees don’t make honey. That bears don’t shit in the forest. I appreciate your attempt, though. This has been some really nice pillow talk.” 

“Whatever,” you muttered, pinching his nipple in retaliation before turning your back to him and yanking the blanket onto your side. 

You weren’t sure why you were so surprised that he was being stubborn, most of the time you felt like you were pulling teeth from the man. But that’s why you had a backup plan! You always had a backup plan. That’s what separated you from your boyfriend. Where Ransom was extemporized and impulsive, you were calculating and prudent. 

Although you devised your plan that very afternoon while watching your partner backhand small green balls, you were going to need some time to get everything in order, to prove Murphy and his stupid law wrong in making sure that everything that could go wrong wouldn’t. 

After all, love was a game. And you sure as hell weren’t losing to Hugh Drysdale. 

——

You sacrificed too much to have your plans ruined by some trust fund baby with impulsivity issues. You deserved your dream marriage, the stability you wished you had as a child. You wanted the white picket fence, and everything that came along with it. Your desire to be the best, to be perfect was what drove you to poke holes in every condom in the box, what led you to draw liters of your own blood in hopes of staging a fake crime scene, to buy a cheap getaway car and burner phone off of Craigslist, and reach out to a high school boyfriend who you knew was in a position as desperate as you. 

You planted seeds of doubt in your friends throughout the following weeks, feeding them lies about Ransom’s behavior, how you were afraid of telling him that you did in fact see two faint red lines on that damn plastic stick– only half of the statement truly being false–, telling them that he was behaving erratically lately.

It all was going without a hitch. Ransom didn’t seem to notice anything was off, despite your frequent visits to the bathroom and newfound affinity for true crime documentaries. 

You almost felt guilty, knowing the world of pain you were about to throw the man into. Granted, he deserved the pain. You were in a relationship with a genuinely terrible person, and that person had made a conscious effort not to commit to you. You tried to make this easy for him, give him a chance to say a few words to you and slide a ring on your finger, but no, he always seemed to take the hard route.

You slept like a baby the night before you were setting your plan in action. You made sure to uphold the facade of everything being fine, making Ransom a nice breakfast before sending him halfway across town to the hardware store with an oddly incriminating list.

Once he was out of the house, you hurried off to the fridge in the garage where you’d been keeping a small stash of your own blood. It wasn’t pretty, but it had to be done. You poured the blood throughout the kitchen, splattering bits of it on the counters and cupboards. You poorly cleaned the mess, just as he would.

You put your next move in motion, falsifying a home invasion. You tossed over a table and some chairs, throwing books and photos onto the floor, but left some aspects slightly untouched, like an upright picture frame to give yet another hint that things were not exactly what they appeared. 

You left a tiny blue post-it note on the nightstand of Ransom’s side of the bed, a quick and simple doodle of a ring along with the first initial of your name inked onto the tiny piece of paper. 

With that, you were off. Technically missing, soon-to-be presumed dead.

----

 The days following your disappearance had gone even better than you’d initially planned. Local news coverage had been all over you, search and rescue groups were assiduously looking for you, your parents had opened a tip line, and begged for you to get home safe on news segments. But the best part of it all was that Ransom had been briefly found himself in police custody, only to be released shortly thereafter. His past of an accused murder quickly made your disappearance even more of a national story, and you watched the whole thing unravel from the safety and comfort of your high school boyfriend, Andy Barber’s Newton home. 

Of course, you fed him the same lies you’d given to your friends, and seeing the rather lonely position he was in, he gladly let you stay with him. You were absolutely having a hay-day with it all, dedicating hours of your day to watching Ransom slowly unravel. Maybe it was a bit sadistic of you to enjoy torturing your partner so much, but he needed to learn his lesson. You deserved better. You needed Ransom to rise up to your level, allowing you to finally complete your image. To let you two appear to be the perfect couple. Really, this was all on him.

Andy, for the most part, had been a good host. He was gone for the majority of the day, dedicating himself to his work while you lounged around on his dangerously cozy couch. Around two weeks into your stay, you were sharing a box of pizza in the living room with your old lover when something interesting on the television caught your eye.

Ransom, broadcasted on CBS, being interviewed on your disappearance. 

You watched with wide eyes as Ransom begged for your return on national television. It was one thing seeing your mother plead for you to come back, the same woman who had installed such toxic behavior in you sob for your return, but Ransom. You’d never loved him more than in that moment.

“Hugh, if you could tell Y/N one thing, what would it be?” the interviewer asked.

Ransom turned, looking straight at the camera, directly into your soul, “Y/N, I love you so much. More than you’ll ever know. I need you to come back safely, to see you, to hold you again. I’d give anything in the world for that right now,” he looked down, a tear falling down his cheek. “I can’t live without you in my life, I-”

His sentence was cut off by Andy grabbing the remote, and turning off the TV. You turned your head and frowned deeply at him.

“Why’d you do that?” you asked with a bit of a pout.

“I just couldn’t stand listening to him talk about you like he hasn’t treated you like shit for the past few years. C’mon, let’s get ready for bed.”

Your blood boiled. Andy was once a means to an end, but now he was interfering. He was clearly much too selfish to see that you and Ransom were quite obviously soulmates. A match made in hell. 

You followed him to bed regardless, curling up on what had been your side of the bed for the past few days, and staring at the wall until Andy’s breaths moved from a soft and rhythmic pattern to loud snores. God, those snores were obnoxious. 

You slipped out of bed and to his dresser, grabbing two soft ties from the drawer, and daintily tying his wrists to each side of the bedpost.

“What‘re you doing?” he mumbled, instinctively yanking both of his wrists as he awoke.

“I’m going back home,” you whispered.

“You can’t be serious,” Andy huffed, tugging on the restraint attached to the headboard.

You shook your head, “I am.”

“I should’ve known. Why would you do something like this? Do you know how much trouble you’ll be in with the law?”

“Do you know how much trouble you’ll be in when the world finds out that you kidnapped me?” you retorted.

This threat seemed to wake him up right away, “what about this was kidnapping? I gave you a nice home, fed you, I didn’t even make a pass at you. I didn’t do shit to you,” he hissed. “You think I can’t prove that? I’m a lawyer, for god's sake!”

You nearly laughed, “Okay, Andy,” you paused for a moment, “As a lawyer, who do you think everyone’ll believe? Someone who the world was on a wild goose chase for in the last two weeks? Or the man with a family history of violence? Must I remind you that your father and your son have killed people?”

Andy shook his head, face pinched in sorrow at the mention of his deceased son, clearly a low blow. “You’re insane,” he muttered.

“Swear to god that you won’t tell a soul what happened here,” you leaned over him, getting right in his face. “Or I promise, Andrew Barber, I will ruin you. You’ll spend the rest of your life behind bars, or disbarred, or whatever the hell I decide to do with you. So keep your goddamn lips shut.” 

You pulled away and he solemnly nodded, not bothering to put up a fight. You loosened the fabric around his left wrist and walked out of the room. You picked up the keys to Andy’s Audi on your way out, checking the time as you adjusted the driver's seat. 

9:45 PM. Fatherhood really changed the man.

You pushed that thought aside and began your drive home, which turned out to be a surprisingly short trip. When you pulled up in front of your home, you were met with a slew of reporters outside of the house, along with a police car that seemed to be permanently camped there.

As you slowly got out of the car, a gasp, followed by a loud silence fell across the crowd. You limped for dramatic effect up the driveway as cameras followed you, and glanced back at them pathetically. From your peripheral view, you noticed the officers get out of their vehicle.

You finally got to your door, ringing the doorbell and waiting. You blinked harshly a few times, conjuring up the tears you needed to really make a spectacle of the event. After a few minutes, Ransom opened the door, eyes widening as he looked at you. He stepped out, and you wrapped him in as big of a hug as you could manage, genuinely missing his embrace. It was possible that you even let out a few real tears in the moment.

Your emotional embrace was interrupted by the man you recognized as Lieutenant Elliott, the same officer who’d been assigned to Harlan’s case. 

“Ma’am,” he began, only to be shut down by you. 

“Please, just let me be with my boyfriend,” you pleaded, crocodile tears streaming down your face as you spoke with the officer. You still needed time to get your story straight.

“Just give us the night, Lieutenant. We’ll come in first thing tomorrow morning,” Ransom added, furrowing his brows at the officer that he’d come into contact with far too many times. 

He looked to his partner, who shrugged, then to you, “enjoy your night.”

Cameras flashed around you as civilians, journalists, and newscasters alike attempted to catch your attention. You grabbed Ransom’s hand and dramatically pulled him inside, insincerely attempting to hide your face by ducking and covering half of your face with your arm. 

As soon as you were in the privacy of your own home, Ransom threw you against a wall. 

“Why. The fuck. Would you pull a stunt like that,” he hissed through gritted teeth, eyes wild, and a hand around your throat. 

You whimpered as he tightened his grip, rage clearly flowing through his system uncontrollably.

“Do you know what you did to me? You almost had me thrown in fucking jail. Do you understand that?”

You nodded weakly, “Ran,” you whispered, “the baby,” you glanced down at your stomach.

He paused, dropping his grip on your neck and staring at you in awe, “no…” 

You nodded again. 

“How…? You told me you were on the pill… You- you made me use protection…”

“Surprise?” you said weakly. 

“You’re a psychotic bitch.”

“I’m your psychotic bitch. And no child of mine will be born out of wedlock,” you taunted. 

“That’s what this is about?” Ransom laughed manically. “You did this all because I won’t fucking marry you?”

You didn’t even have to respond.

“I should send you to the loony bin right fucking now.”

“What happened to all those things you said to me on TV?”

“You’re fucking delusional. I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can. And you will. I’ve had to put up with you and your stupid little antics for way too long. How do you think I felt when you killed your own grandfather?”

Ransom scoffed, throwing his hands up in exasperation, “you are so fucked up.”

“I’m the fucked up one? You killed your own blood in cold blood! You’re unhinged!” 

“You faked your own death for attention, and got pregnant while doing it! Is that baby even mine?”

“The fuck are you trying to say, Hugh?”

“I asked if it’s even mine.”

“Really. You’re accusing me of cheating on you. That’s rich considering Mia, Layla, and whoever the fuck else. You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m being ridiculous? You couldn’t have a normal adult conversation with me!”

“Are you kidding me? I asked you time after time to marry me and it was always some bullshit excuse!” you wagged a finger in his face as you spoke. “Oh, commitment scares me, oh, marriage is just a piece of paper, oh-“ you mocked his voice in a deeper tone before you were cut off by the sting of his hand against your cheek.

“Can you shut the hell up?” he growled at you as you held your own cheek, before you reached out and slapped him back, “I can’t believe that I’m stuck with such a deranged bitch for the rest of my life.”

“Maybe work on your vows a little, dear. I don’t think that those words are as charming to me as they’d be to the rest of our family and friends.”

“You can’t be serious,” he groaned.

“But I am,” you hummed, rubbing your cheek softly once again. “Look at how fast your life fell apart without me here. How quickly the public turned on you. Imagine how upset they’d be if you left me. I love you, Ran. I really do. You and I are perfect for each other, can’t you see that now?”

Ransom took a step away from you, pacing slowly in front of you. He ran a stressed hand through his hair, and took a long and drawn out breath, clearly at a loss for words.

“So when should we have the wedding? I’ve always wanted a Spring wedding, and I know it’s a little short notice, but I don’t want to be showing too much in my wedding dress,” you grabbed Ransom’s bicep gently, as if you were just having a regular old day with him, as if you hadn’t been choked and slapped moments ago. “But we can make it work. We always make it work, right?”

Your now fiancé stared vacantly at the wall ahead of him, giving you a slow, empty nod of agreement. 

“It’s settled then,” you smirked. “I’ll start looking at venues. You find me a nice ring, okay Honey? One that puts all those other bitches’ rings to shame,” you sighed pleasantly to yourself, “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before hurrying up the stairs and into your bedroom. You heard a distant shriek of  “fuck,” from Ransom, but you truly could not care less. 

You hopped into bed, grabbing your laptop from its charger and promptly opening it. You couldn’t help but to smile at your own reflection on the empty black screen. This wasn’t how you imagined your engagement, but you did the impossible. You tied yourself down to Hugh Ransom Drysdale, he went down kicking in screaming, and you were likely in for a lifetime of cheating and resentment, but you did it nonetheless. 

You finally won.  

[ladydorian05]

Dangerous love - Javier Peña x Gn!reader

Okay, I finished it, finally!!! I don't have a lot to say about this except that it all began with a few lines provided by my brain in the middle of the night and then this happened.

A huge thank you to @din-damn-djarin​ she helped me so much editing this thing and with the ending (many parts of the ending were written by her).

Hope you guys enjoy it!!!

Dangerous love

Pairing: Javier Peña x gn!reader 

Summary: With Steve on vacation, it's up to Javier and you to check upon the new lead; unexpectedly the stakeout goes to shit and some surprising things happen after you jump at the first opportunity to endanger yourself. (I still don't know how to write this thing and I'll probably never learn.)

Warnings: Bullets, minor injuries, mentions of blood, what else, Javier’s potty mouth but with restraint, maybe a little of out of character behaviour at the end, no time line, fictional events. thoughts in italics. Spanish translations of long sentences can be found in ( ). And I think that’s it.

Word count: 5K and then some.

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Damn you Murphy, Why did you have to ask for vacation days right before we got a lead. Javier thought as he tried to get comfortable in his seat  behind the wheel, with Steve out of the picture, he was left to carry out this stakeout alone, alone with you. Inside the close quarters of his car.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like you, far from it actually. He just didn’t want to fuck things up with you now that he was finally able to put a name to the way he felt whenever he was around you. From the way his heart rate increased in your presence, to how much his thoughts revolved around you. Hell, he even stopped fucking around with his informants for the simple fact that none of them were you.

There was no way he was going to tell you. He couldn’t, your jobs were too dangerous. The slightest mistake could cost either of you your lives and the last thing he wanted was to put you in more danger than you were already in, even if he knew you could take care of yourself.  Besides, he didn’t deserve someone as wonderful as you.

“Okay, I got the snacks and here’s your coffee.” You said opening the door of the passenger side, taking him out of his thoughts. It was some kind of tradition between the three of you, getting snacks to make sitting inside a car for hours on end, waiting for something to happen, a little more bearable,”Any sign of our guy?”

He thanked you, taking the paper cup from your hand “And no, no sign of him or any of his associates.” he sighed before taking a sip from his coffee.

“Damn it, it’s close to midnight, either they appear in the next 3 hours or we’ll be stuck in here for another day.” You complained, leaving the bag with the snacks between you two. You were tired, even if you liked the extra alone time with Javier it was hard to enjoy it when both of you were sleep deprived, more than usual, and cramped inside his car for the second day in a row.

The lead was solid, the problem was they needed evidence that the house they were watching actually belonged to the guy you were after, once you got it you could take the information to Carrillo and mobilize resources to take him in. 

“Five says that we won’t get anything tonight either.” Javier says, taking a bag of chips for himself.

“Five what? Bucks?” You see him nod while stuffing his mouth with a handful of potato chips. You contemplate his profile for a moment before answering his bet, “Alright, I’m in. I have a good feeling about tonight.”

“Don’t get your hopes up, it's been quiet.”

“That’s mainly because Murphy’s not here.” You both share a laugh at your partner's expense. It was no secret that out of the three of you Steve was the most approachable. Javier was the known asshole of the embassy, you always tried to keep your guard up, what with being the new one, and Steve was just a ‘by the book’ kind of guy, even if being after Escobar made him bend some rules lately.

When you were first transferred to Colombia you were surprised that you actually got along just fine with both of your partners. You were the newbie, but they didn’t belittle you or underestimate you like you expected them to. However, you certainly never expected to end up falling for one of them.

As the months passed Javi became more than just your partner or friend, he became your confidant, you knew you could always talk to him. While he wasn’t the  most approachable person around the embassy, you found out he actually had a soft side. He was reliable, hard working, with a dry sense of humor, a ‘no bullshit’ attitude that called to you, and as much as he wanted to hide it, he cared deeply, even for things that were out of his control. The fact he was so fucking handsome didn’t hurt either.

You didn’t fall for him overnight, it was a steady, slow kind of change. It took sleepless nights pouring over documents, each taking turns getting more coffee to keep you both going;  late night conversations and laughs over strong alcohol to chase the stress from work away; having occasional dinner nights with him at his apartment or yours on those nights when the feeling of being alone in a different  country fighting a never ending war gets unbearable.

It wasn’t sudden, but it still surprised you when you realised your feelings for the DEA’s resident Cassanova were deeper than you thought. That was another thing that worried you, it was no secret where or rather from whom he tends to get information about the narcos you were chasing after. Even if he’s recently been more discreet about it.

“Heads up, we’ve got movement.” Javier brings you out of your thoughts, tossing the bag of chips back into the bag of snacks you brought. “Seems like you’ll be getting those five bucks after all.”

“Told you I had a hunch.” Both of you watch as a van parks in front of the house you’ve been watching, several men get out of the vehicle. You recognise a couple of them from the list of known people working for Escobar, most of them were foot soldiers.

You reached inside the glove compartment for the camera, hoping to get a few good pictures before they disappeared inside the house. This could be the missing link you needed to get to the guy that lived there.

“Hold on, don’t finish the film just yet,” Javi’s words give you pause as you start rewinding the camera to take another photograph, “another car’s pulling up.”

“Anyone we know?” You ask squinting to see who comes out of the other car parked away from the street lights lining the road.

“Fuck me...yeah, from the Cali cartel.” He answers, rubbing his chin with a hand.

“Shit, that can’t be good.” You lowered the camera. The change in the atmosphere around you was instant the moment both of you noticed the persons inside the other car were readying their guns.

“You have your gun with you?” Javi asks, reaching behind him for his own weapon.

“Never leave the house without it.”

“Good. When all hell breaks loose, and it will, I want you to find cover before you do anything else, got it?” You hear the click of the safety from Javi’s gun as you reach for the handle of your door; you can sense the familiar feeling of adrenaline as you ready yourself for what’s to come.

“Yeah, you better do the same.” You don’t get a response from him. In a matter of seconds, the once quiet street turns into a war zone. Gun in hand, you run for cover, ending up behind the wall of a house at the entrance of an alley.

You take a moment to breath and try to pinpoint Javier’s location. You see him poking his head from behind a wall on the opposite side of the street. You sigh, relieved to see that he got himself behind cover in time.

You can’t really do anything. It’s just you and Javier out here, you lacked both the numbers and the firepower. Minutes that felt like hours passed. You take a look at the shooting happening a few meters from your position before hiding again in the dark of the alley as three more cars arrived on the site. One of them coming up from the street you were in, you prayed that they didn’t notice either of you. It was clear that both sides had called for backup.

Fuck, now bullets were flying towards this side as well, it wouldn’t take long for them to start looking for a more solid cover than their cars. You see Javi come to the same realisation as he sends you a worried glance when your eyes meet. You needed back up too.

Neither of you expected something like this to happen, it was just a stakeout; you were horribly unprepared with no vest and only so many bullets. The moment they noticed either of you it was over. There was only one choice, you needed to call Carillo.

There was a phone inside the car. If you were fast enough you could dive inside the back seats of the car and grab the phone, you were certain Carrllo would still be in his office, he never left early. It would take him little to no time to round up a team and get to your position as fast as possible.

You turned to look at Javier after formulating the quick plan in your head and explained it as best as you could with your hands, asking him to cover your back. You watch him shake his head, gesturing with both hands for you to stay put. You know if you do as he wants they’ll find you sooner or later; with your plan, if everything went well, at least you both stood a chance of getting out of this alive and  there was even the possibility of taking some of them into custody.

You put the safety of your gun back on and  tuck it into the back of your pants for the moment. While looking at Javier straight in the eyes you slowly shake your head, watching as he spits out a curse you’re too far away to hear before diving out of your cover to get to the car.

Javier knew the situation would escalate badly for the two of you if they noticed your presence there, he was just holding onto the hope that they would be too engrossed in trying to kill each other for that to happen. He turned his attention away from the wall in front of him to check up on you, only to see the determined expression on your face. He’s seen that one before, you always looked like that before doing something brave, yet incredibly stupid that would no doubt end up endangering you.

What the hell were you thinking!? Javier understood what you were trying to say with your hands, your plan was insane. Yes, having backup would be really helpful, life saving even; but risking your life like that? No, he wouldn’t let you. He answered by very clearly telling you to stay where you were.

He swears his heart leapt out of his chest the moment you disregarded his instruction to stay put, tucking your gun in your pants before breaking into a run for the car. FUCK!

You left him with no choice but to do as you asked, there was no way in hell he was going to leave you even more open than you already were. Hopefully, with all the chaos going around, they wouldn’t notice you or where the bullets from his gun were coming from.

He tried to keep an eye on you while also paying attention to the altercation. The car wasn’t that far from your previous position, but considering the stray bullets raining all round, it was too damn dangerous. He was filing away in his head all the things he would say to you if- no, ONCE both of you were out of this mess. He wouldn’t let himself think of any other outcome, you were going to be fine and you would get out of this, both of you.

What was in reality a few seconds, felt like an eternity to him. You running alone, unprotected, straight into a firefight was a scene he’s only seen in his nightmares, the fact that this was really happening was worse than he had ever imagined.

He stopped breathing for a moment when he saw you stumble a little from the corner of his eye, but when he turned his full attention towards you, you weren’t there and the backdoor of the car was open. He sighed in relief, you made it.

Carrillo got there with backup in record time and these guys were still at it, they had the worst aim he had ever seen, it was laughable that the shooting lasted this long, but damn he was glad to see Carrillo and his men arriving. They blocked the escape routes, effectively cornering them and made quick work of subduing and cuffing any survivors.

He made his way towards you as soon as he was sure he wouldn’t get a bullet for stepping out from his cover, after all he would be of no use to you dead, but Carrillo noticed him first and stopped him halfway there.

You could hear the moment the backup arrived from your place on the floor of the back of the car. You were tired and probably in need of medical attention. You hadn’t felt the pain initially, too preoccupied with your madrun to get to the car and filled with adrenaline to notice. It wasn’t until things had quietened down significantly and the adrenaline began to seep from your body that you had time to assess your injuries and felt the searing hot pain blossoming in your arm and thigh. You weren’t sure if the bullets were still in there, if you had been hit anywhere else and just hadn’t felt the pain yet or how bad the bleeding was.

Slowly, you began to move in order to get out of the car. Hissing in pain when you had to use your leg to crawl to the opposite door, you figured it would be easier to keep moving forward and get out from that side than try to backtrack towards the one you used to get in.

The sudden movement of the door opening caught everyone who was close by off guard, some of the men actually pointed their guns at you.

“Whoa! Easy there, I’m friend no foe.” Scanning the area you spotted Javier with Carrillo, their attention focused on you, it seemed like they had been talking before you made your presence known. Javier walked towards you as the Colonel ordered his men to lower their weapons. “Hey, a little help please?”

He offered you his hand to help you get out of the vehicle. “Easy there, are you hurt?” He looked you up and down  searching for injuries and sure enough, he found them, “Fuck, you’re bleeding. Coronel, pida una ambulancia!” After telling the colonel to call for an ambulance he gently guided you away from the bullet hole ridden car to sit on the flatbed of one of the team’s trucks. 

Javier was uncharacteristically quiet considering the move you pulled off, you were expecting the scolding of your life, but he said nothing. He just hovered around you as the paramedics cleaned and treated your wounds, thankfully they weren’t life threatening, and gave one word answers when they asked him any kind of questions to find out if he was also injured. It was unsettling.

Anger you could deal with, you’ve done so on multiple occasions already used to his fiery personality, but this cold shoulder treatment...the only times he had ever acted like this had been when things got really bad or when he felt responsible for losing someone on the job. He would often shut himself out in situations like that,  but even then you were always able to get through to him and coax him into talking to you. 

Carrillo approached you once the paramedics’ job was done. “Mis hombres se encargaran de los malparidos. Yo los llevo de regreso a la base, necesitaran otro carro para ir a casa.” (My men will take care of the sons of bitches. I’ll take you back to base, you’ll need another car to get home.)

“Gracias por su ayuda Coronel.” You thanked him for the help, seeing as Javier still refused to speak.

“Al contrario, gracias a ti y tu llamada ahora tenemos arrestados no sólo a colaboradores de Escobar, sino también miembros del cartel de Cali.” (On the contrary, thanks to you and your call, we now have arrested not only Escobar’s collaborators, but also members from the Cali cartel.)

Javier went to retrieve any personal belongings from the car before following Carillo back to his truck. The ride back to base didn’t change anything, the three of you travelling in tense silence since Javier still refused to speak. It was a good thing the Colonel was never really a talkative man to begin with otherwise you’re sure he would have felt insulted by Javi’s current mood. 

Once back at base, Javier made quick work of the paperwork needed to take a provisional car while the one previously assigned to him was towed away and replaced. You decided to  put his odd behavior down to the stress of the night's events, thinking maybe that was what had him acting like this and hoping that maybe he would relax on the way home.

No such luck.

The car ride was infernally quiet and Javier’s mood only seemed to worsen by the minute, you could see his knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. He pulled up in the building’s garage, killing the engine without so much as turning his head in your direction. You couldn’t take it anymore, the silence was suffocating you.

“Hey, I got a new bottle of whiskey if you wanna grab a drink?” The only answer you got was the sound of the door slamming shut behind him as he got out of the car. At first you thought that was a no, but when you got out he was standing by the car’s trunk waiting for you. 

You made your way through the building to the door of your apartment; the slight limp from the wound on your thigh slowing you down somewhat. It wasn’t serious, the bullet only grazed the outer side of it. Your arm didn’t have the same luck; still, it was nothing time, a few stitches and bandages couldn’t fix, but it still hurt like hell, you’ll be sure to take some pain meds before going to bed. Javier was following behind you. If he ever decided to quit being a DEA agent, you were sure he’d be able make decent cash playing poker with the expressionless face he had going on  at the moment. Well, he would as long as he wore dark sunglasses, otherwise his expressive eyes would probably give him away. 

You opened the door and turned on the lights of the living room. “Make yourself comfortable, I’ll get the bottle and the glasses.” You tell him as you toe off your shoes, leaving them in the entrance. You hear the door close and before you can make your way to the kitchen his hand darts up to grab the wrist of your uninjured arm.

“Javier? Wha-”

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Oh. So it was time for the scolding, he waited until you were alone for this, shit. Maybe you could play dumb?

“I was thinking about getting a little bit drunk before going to sleep.”

“You know what I mean. Back there, what the fuck were you thinking putting yourself in danger like that?” So, that was a no on the playing dumb thing then.

“Do you have any idea how lucky you were? You had no vest and still you ran headfirst into the open, you could’ve died!” He could feel the grip he had on his emotions slipping, all the fear, all the helplessness he felt the moment he saw you dive out into the rain of bullets rushing back to him.

“But I didn’t.” You knew he was right, it was a dangerous move, but it worked, it got you out of the tight spot. “Listen, I know it was dangerous, but it worked out.”

“So you were aware of how dangerously stupid that was and you still went ahead and did it!?” He let go of your wrist to pass his hand through his hair in exasperation,“To top it off, this isn’t even the first time you’ve pulled something like this, I don’t have enough fingers on my hands to count how many times your dumb luck has saved your ass.”

“Well excuse me for saving our asses back there!” You snap, your composure which you had managed to keep up until this point wavering, “And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“You think I don’t know about your little endeavours with the other side of this war?” How dare he act as if he’s never put himself in danger, as if he wasn’t playing with fire himself, “How’s Don Berna? When’s your next coffee date?”

His eyes widened in horror and all the blood drained from his face. Any other day this kind of reaction from him would’ve made you laugh, but right now it only gave you a strange sense of satisfaction.

“How do you know about that?” His eyes fixed on yours, both of you locked in a staring match until you’re silent for a little too long and he speaks again, demanding an answer, “Huh? Answer me. How. Do. You. Know. That?”

“I saw you with him.”

“You followed me!? You fucking followed me!?”

“Yes, I did! What did you want me to do!? We were stuck, stressed as fuck, with no new leads and you were acting strange! I was worried!”

“That didn’t give you the right to go and fucking follow me! And that’s beyond the point, that’s different!” Your once tense, but relatively controlled, conversation was now a shouting match. A match that would most likely end with no winner and your friendship on the line, but you’ll be damned if you backed down from this.

“How!? How is it different!? I run once or twice towards some bullets to save our asses and you get to lecture me about it, but I can’t bring up the fact you’re meeting with a sicario, behind both of your partners backs, in your free time!?”

“We’re not talking about me!”

“OH! So YOU can make stupid and dangerous decisions, but I can’t!? And YOU can call ME out on them, but I can’t call YOU out on YOURS!?” Every time you stressed a word you made sure to poke him hard in the chest with your index finger as if you really needed to emphasise your point anymore.

He let out a heavy sigh trying to cool down a little. You had moved at some point during the heat of the argument, both of you trying to get into each other's faces as you yelled back and forth and you were so close to him now that the puff of air lightly ruffled your eyelashes. Deep down he knew you were right, but the night events still hung heavy in his mind. For a moment, he swore you weren’t going to make it, he should’ve known better- should have trusted you, but that didn’t mean he would support every single insane plan you came up with.

“I just-”

“You just what!?” You interrupted him. He was beyond frustrated with this situation. He just had to go and open his fucking mouth. He could have just stayed silent, shared that whiskey with you and drink until he forgot all about this whole stupid situation and then gone to bed.

“I just want you to understand-”

“Understand what!?”

“Goddamnit.” he muttered under his breath.

“Understand what Javier!? Maybe if you stopped stalling and just said what you want to say I would!”

“That I fucking love you!” Shit. He drags the palm of his hand over his face as he contemplates his options, it’s too late to go back now he decides, “I can’t stand the thought of something happening to you!”  

“Well, I love you too!” 

The stunned silence that followed the unexpected confessions was deafening. Neither of you dared to move from your positions, until you saw his eyes flicker from yours to your lips and his tongue poked out to lick his bottom lip.

You don’t know who moved first, but at that point you don’t care. Your lips came together with his in a passionate kiss, all thoughts of your argument forgotten for the moment. You could only think about how good it felt to finally kiss him, you always believed that he would be a good kisser, but this was beyond anything you ever imagined, all your previous fantasies of what kissing your partner would be like fell in comparison to the real deal.

It wasn’t perfect; no, nothing in real life is ever perfect, but at the same time it was everything and more. There was no fight for dominance, it was just a coming together of two people, two people trying to convey with actions what has never been said with words. Months of pent up feelings finally finding release.

His arms were around you, one hand on your lower back and the other behind your head, pulling you ever closer while your own hands held the back of his head, fingers losing themselves between his short locks of hair. You were so drunk on him, you never wanted to stop, unfortunately, oxygen was a necessity. Slowly, you pulled apart from each other, leaving little pecks on his lips as you went. 

“Fuck, we’re a mess.” He said, breathing heavily as he rested his forehead against yours.

“Did you mean it?” You ask, finally finding your voice after taking a few deep breaths.

“Every word.” He answered, pulling you into another much slower kiss.

“Good.” You said against his lips the next time you parted. “Because I do too.” You were going to go in for another kiss, but you felt the pull of the stitches on your arm when you tried to bring his head closer, making you flinch in pain.

“You okay?” He asked, noticing the sudden movement.

“Yeah, just...the stitches are bothering me.” You said with a grimace.

“Fuck. I forgot about them.” He slowly detangled himself from you as not to hurt you further. “Let’s sit down on the couch, there’s more light over there, let’s make sure you didn’t reopen the wound.”

“It’s alright, just a bit sore, that’s all.” You gingerly touched the bandage covering the stitches. He called your name, to get your attention back.

“Please. If only for my peace of mind.” With a sigh, you agreed. He left his hand on your lower back, gently guiding you to your couch. He began to remove the tape that kept the gauze in place over the stitches as carefully as he could manage. “Thank you, your plan really did save us.” You stared at him in surprise, you weren't expecting that. “But you really need to be more careful. Do you have any idea how I felt when you just ran out?”

You shook your head.

“I thought my heart was going to burst out of my chest, I thought I was going to have a heart attack.”

“You’re not THAT old.”

“Excuse you, I’m not old at all.” His eyebrows raise at your words and there’s a look of mock offense written across his features.

“That’s not what your cracking back says.”

“If we didn’t spend so much time behind a desk my back wouldn’t sound like fireworks going off every time I stretch.” Your eyes found each other for a moment before both of you ended up laughing. “No, but seriously. I don’t know What I would’ve done if anything had happened to you. Please, don’t risk yourself like that, don’t go where I can’t follow.”

“You know I can’t promise something like that...but I’ll try.”

“I can work with that.” He focused back on removing the tape without further upsetting the wound.

“I’ll be more careful, but in return, I want you to do everything you can to cut all ties with Don Berna. I don’t care how much information he gave you or keeps giving you, it’s not worth it if you’re going to end up in the middle of both sides.”

He took a deep breath before letting the air out. “I am trying, but it’s a delicate subject, I need to watch my steps. I reached out to him on a whim, and even if I got some good stuff from him, I’m not stupid, sooner or later he’ll cash in the favor.”

“Be careful, please.” He nodded.

Once the tape was out of the way, he looked at your stitches without touching the skin around them, not wanting to cause any kind of infection, once he saw that none of them needed to be redone, he covered them again.

“Alright, all’s good, let’s get you to bed.” Your eyes widened at his words.

“Javier, not today, I’m tired and my leg hurts and-” You’re cut off by his chuckle.

“To sleep. Jesus, get your head out of the gutter. Go get ready, I’ll bring you some pain killers and a glass of water. Whiskey’s not going anywhere, we can have it another day, you need to rest.”

When he came into your room you were already in your pajamas, taking your pants off had been tricky but you managed it without disturbing your wounds too much. He hands you two pills and a glass of water, you thanked him before swallowing the pills with some water. Leaving the glass on your nightstand, you make yourself comfortable in your bed.

“Well, I’ll umm...I’ll see you tomorrow.” He nods his head in your direction before turning to leave.

“Javi, wait.” You call before he reaches the door. He looks back at you over his shoulder, “Could you stay?”

His eyes widened in surprise before answering “Of course, sweetheart.” He’s quiet as he takes off his shirt, shoes, socks and moves to climb under the covers.

“Do you sleep in jeans? Isn’t that uncomfortable?” he freezes in place, one knee on the bed and one hand lifting the corner of the thin sheets covering the bed.

“No, I- I usually sleep in boxers.” he lowers his gaze to the bed, “I just don’t have any with me right now.”

There’s a moment of silence as you process his words before you burst into laughter.

“You- you mean- you’re not-” you try to talk in the middle of your laughing fit, but only manage to get a few words out.

“Yeah, I’m not wearing any underwear,” you swear he almost looks embarrassed “get over it.” he mutters.

“Sorry, I just-”you try to calm down, but can’t help the giggles that still escape your lips. “What, did you have plans for after the stakeout?” The question came out jokingly; maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing to ask after what happened in your foyer, but deep down you wanted to know. You trusted him in any other way, could you also trust him completely with your heart?

“No.” He looks you in the eye and you notice that he understood the double meaning of your question. “I don’t do that anymore, for some time now. ”

“Oh.”

Once he settles, you reach over to the nightstand turning off the small lamp that sits there. You can’t see Javi in the darkness of the room, but you know there’s still something playing on his mind from the way you feel him fidget beside you. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask, reaching out for him across the small distance that separates the two of you. Your hand finds his shoulder and you run your fingers up and down his arm, enjoying the way he relaxes under the touch. 

“It’s nothing, go to sleep.” 

“Javier.” You warn, much too tired to argue but determined not to sleep until you get to the bottom of whatever's bothering him.

“I’m still thinking about what happened earlier...loving you can be quite dangerous.” Javier sighs, “You know that, don’t you?”

“It’s just as dangerous as loving you.”

“What a pair we make huh?” 

“We’ll figure it out.” Your voice is laced with exhaustion and you shuffle closer to him, nestling your head under his chin and wrapping an arm around his body, “We’ll be fine.” 

He hums in agreement, his arm hovering over you but not quite touching.

“You can touch me you know?” You say with amusement.

“Your arm- I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“You won’t. I promise.” You smile, pecking a kiss against the first patch of skin you can reach.

He lowers his arm tentatively, wrapping it around you and pulling you closer to him.

“Goodnight.” You mumble against his chest, sleep already beginning to pull you under.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He whispers into your hair, listening to the way your breathing has evened out. Sleep has never come easily to Javier, but that night for the first time in months, it does.

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Everything tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed) :

@oloreaa @16boyfriends-and-me​ @ilikechocolatemilkh​ @crossfitjesusinblackskinnyjeans​

[official-weasley]

The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 5, Ch. 2

PART 5: THE YEAR WHEN EVERYONE FIGHTS Chapter 2 - A Very Quidditch Crush

Penny

Who am I? What's my name?

I am so busy this year that I don't even have time to think about myself. Braiding my hair every morning? No time. Keeping my sister from getting lost around the Castle? No time. Spending time with my friends in any other way that doesn't revolve around studying? No time!

I even thought I wasn't nagging the group about O.W.L.s as much. They quickly proved me wrong when they started to complain about how much I talked about them. I decided to give them a little break as most of them were doing rather well so I went from every day to missing a couple of days per week, not mentioning the O.W.L.s and their importance.

I did, however, take as much time as I could to brew and experiment with potions. I wanted to learn new recipes and it was a good opportunity to talk to Snape about O.W.L.s even though, not much to my surprise, he wasn't as keen about it as I was. I still had access to his ingredients room and he even lent me one of his books about Potions which made me jump as I knew just how rare it was!

I knew I couldn't keep it forever, so I tried memorizing and trying as many potions from it as I possibly could and I wrote to my mum about it every chance I got. To be perfectly honest, she was the only one who shared my excitement about this.

I also took the time to attend as many of Ravenclaw's Quidditch practices as I possibly could. I half pretended to study, sitting on the lower stands and half eyeing Andre. He was so cute and the best Keeper ever, of course!

It seemed that Orion wanted to win the Quidditch Cup this year as they had practice almost every day. I, of course, didn't mind and neither did Nova for some reason. I noticed that after every match she didn't fly from the Pitch but joined the Quidditch commentator, who as I could recall, wasn't as funny compared to how much Nova giggled when he was talking.

After the fifth Friendly, I was pretty sure that Nova's secret crush from last year was finally revealed and I decided to casually ask her about it. I asked her to help me study for Transfiguration O.W.L. in the Library, as I knew she wouldn't be able to refuse, and since I told her all about my crush on Andre last year in the Library it made sense that I would ask her about Murphy there as well.

I chuckled when I saw how prepared she was! She brought 3 books and so many notes for which I didn't even know she was capable of having. I decided to be very cool about the whole thing, I didn't want her to run away after all. So we studied Transfiguration for about an hour, when I closed her book, crossed my arms on the table, and leaned my head on them.

“So...” I started.

“What is that look in your eyes, Penny?” She was suspicious already.

“About your crush.” I grinned and she rolled her eyes.

“You only invited me here to talk about who I fancy, didn't you?” She frowned as she knew what was coming.

“I was just wondering if I can make the same guess list Tulip did last year?” I blinked at her to appear as cute as possible.

“Alright.” She wasn't amused.

“Murphy McNully.” I said casually. She gasped and her cheeks turned tomato red.

“I knew it!” I pointed my finger at her.

“Shh!” I could hear Madam Pince behind us. I turned around and she was glaring at me.

“I knew it!” I repeated when she finally decided to walk to the other side of the Library, this time whispering.

“How do you know?” Nova was stunned.

“I might attend your Quidditch matches to daydream about Andre but I am not blind.” I winked at her.

“How obvious is it?” She sighed.

“Well,” I rubbed my chin, thinking about it. “If you didn't find him so funny talking about Quidditch, since I can't phantom what's there to laugh about, I wouldn't notice at all.” I was sarcastic as that wasn't the only reason I knew. She was also eyeing him during the matches and she flew right past him as much as possible.

“But he is funny.” Nova defended him.

“Nova, there is a 14,5% chance that only you laugh so much when he speaks.” I giggled and she rolled her eyes when I took Murphy's statistics to prove my point.

“Alright, you got me! But promise you won't tell anyone!” She made me swear.

“My lips are sealed.” I dragged an imaginary zipper across my mouth. “But only if you tell me how it happened?”

“Well,” she leaned closer to me to make sure Madam Pince wasn't going to throw us out, “remember how when you asked me about it last year, I was completely clueless who I had a crush on?” I nodded. How could I forget? I was positive it was Charlie and that she just couldn't see past their friendship.

“Well, after one practice I was taking extra time to get dressed because I wanted to be as late for History of Magic as I possibly could.”

“I knew you were being late on purpose!” I gasped.

“And I stayed alone in the tent and Murphy came inside and we talked and I realized that I liked him.” She blushed. That was pretty rare for her. Oh, she was so cute!

“What made you realize?” I was curious.

“He was talking about this Quidditch strategy that he was confident would improve my skills and I zoned out and suddenly realized just how blue his eyes are and what a cute smile he has.” Her face was as red as Tulip's hair at this point.

“Does he know?” I beamed.

“Does Andre know you like him?” Clever girl, throwing that in my face.

“Are you planning on telling him?” I asked, ignoring her.

“Are you planning on telling Andre?” I frowned at her. We were not talking about me and Andre right now.

“For a matter of fact, I am!” I scoffed at her. “We are going to Hogsmeade next week and I will tell him that I fancy him!”

“Wow, very brave of you Penny.” She winked at me.

“Thank you!” I lifted my chin up proudly and as I started to think about what to wear when I tell Andre I remembered that this wasn't about my crush but hers.

“Stop distracting me!” She giggled. “How serious is this crush of yours?” The answer to this question interested me not just because if they started dating, we could go on double dates but also because I knew Charlie fancied Nova.

“I don't know. I am not so invested in these matters like you are, Penny.” She answered honestly.

“Don't you want to know if he feels the same way?” I asked, confused. Nova gave it some thought.

“Not really. At least not yet. I feel too young for this stuff.” It was probably the first time I struggled to understand her.

“So you will just stare at him and giggle at his not so funny speeches all the time?” I raised my eyebrow.

“I guess.” She giggled. Why she would do that for I had no idea. I know we're only turning 16 this year but if you like somebody, shouldn't you let them know?

“You're weird, Nova Blackwood.” Was all I said.

“Good for you to notice after so many years. Can we go back to studying now?” She opened her book again.

Even though she didn't want to act on it right now, I knew she fancied Murphy very much and I knew that sooner or later she will want some advice on how to best approach him.

I was so happy for her, I could see her dating Murphy and I think they would look really cute together. But I couldn't help but feel sorry for Charlie who admitted to me last year that he has a crush on his best friend. Nova liked Murphy a lot but I got a feeling that Charlie was deeper than that even though he didn't want to admit it and was waiting for his feelings to go away.

At first, I was hoping that I was wrong and I was observing Charlie as much as possible, without being too obvious, to see if he still fancied her. Not only did he blush every time he saw her and stiffened every time she leaned on him or hugged him. He also became more awkward around her and I was beginning to wonder if all my friends needed glasses as he couldn't be more obvious.

I decided I wouldn't tell him as I reckoned it would break his heart and ruin their friendship and honestly, wasn't my business and he would probably be as stubborn about it like he was when he told me about his crush. He said that he will never act upon it and, unlike with Nova, I actually believed him. I reckon Murphy is a great mate and everything, but I couldn't help to think that Charlie and Nova were a match made by Merlin himself.

“Penny, are you even listening to me?” Nova poked my cheek.

“Huh?” I rose my head, which was leaned on my closed fist.

“Were you daydreaming about Andre?” She shook her head, winking.

“Yes.” I lied. It was the first time I didn't.

“So, how are you planning to tell him about how much you fancy him?” She asked, making a kissy face.

“I was thinking of inviting him to Hogsmeade and taking him to Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop.”

“Take him where?” Nova asked puzzled. I giggled, I knew she wouldn't know where that was.

“It's this cute little tea shop in one of the narrow alleys. It's perfect for dates and a lot of couples go there to snog.” She nodded, knowing immediately why she had never heard about it before.

“You're going to snog him?” Nova raised her eyebrows.

“Well, if he feels the same way after I tell him, why not?” I frowned as she chuckled.“What's the matter with snogging?”

“Oh, nothing. I just think you're adorable!” She pinched my cheeks like my aunt did every time she visited.

“Just go back to reading your book!” I rolled my eyes, trying to focus on reading her notes as it has become apparent she wouldn't give me any more information about her and Murphy.

—

Weeks were passing by so quickly that I felt unprepared for my O.W.L.s I knew we still had plenty of time to study but I was hoping that the teachers would cut us some slack since we had to study for such an important examination.

It seemed, however, that they had more to teach us this year than ever before and the worst of it was that all of the material was also going to appear on the exams. We were all doing a pretty good job. Charlie studied for his Care of Magical Creatures and Defense Against the Dark Arts the most, while Nova teased him that there were other subjects to study for as well.

I was doing as good as I could on all my subjects. I was even surprised how good Tulip was doing as I was sure she would refuse to study just like Tonks did.

Speaking of Tonks! She was driving me insane. She didn't want to hear about O.W.L.s at all. She rarely came down to the Lake with us or joined us in the Library and every time I tried to explain just how important this examination was she rolled her eyes and tried getting as far away from me as possible. I started to worry about her as studying in the last week and a half won't help her get through this as it did with regular exams.

However, I was determined I won't give up and stop nagging her. Sooner or later she will have to start studying. Something that wasn't an issue with my little sister who was just the biggest angel when it came to doing homework and studying. What puzzled me though was the fact that she didn't enjoy Potions at all!

I asked her about it once and she threw in my face that not everybody wants to become a Potioneer and I didn't have a choice but to accept that.

I also convinced Andre to start studying with me which was more for his benefit than mine as I could barely focus on anything else but his cute face. I helped him with every subject but I knew we would have to ask Nova for help when it comes to Transfiguration.

-

The day to tell Andre finally came and I decided to wear my favorite yellow blouse as it was too cold to wear a dress. We walked to Hogsmeade together and I was relieved when I told him where I was taking him and he didn't seem to mind at all.

It went great as usual. He made me laugh and I just loved how much we had to talk about. We got so lost in our conversation that I didn't get a chance to tell him how I feel. I didn't need to do that, however, as our hands brushed while walking back to the Castle, and Andre, looking away, held my hand and didn't let go until it was time for me to go into my Common Room. It was by far, the best day of my Fifth Year.

[oh-obrien]

Paper Houses {1.0}

Pairings: Bellamy Blake (AU) X Original Female Character

Warnings: Mentions of Underage Drinking and Recreational Drug Use

Word Count: 5,502 (a little shorter to kick off here).

Author’s Note: This one is going to be a fun ride, and I’m really excited for the story I have planned. Each section will be a mix between the present and either the past or the future, time changes will usually be pretty clear and they try to help support the plot throughout the entire story. It’s more of a college-esqu AU but you’ll see what happens. Also the title is inspired by Niall Horan’s song Paper Houses which is one of my all time favorites of his and that should be a little hint for some of the plot.

“Some guy on tinder last night slid into my DM’s!” Aisling yelled over the music that had been turned up so loud it felt like the bass had begun to make her teeth vibrate. The playlist that had been on most of the night had a mix of the friend’s favorite songs on it, everyone contributing their top ten favorite songs to be added. Aisling would have turned the music down if her dad's property didn’t have ten acres, she felt more than comfortable with the fact that none of their ‘neighbors’ would be disturbed by her friends. “Yeah! And he goes, ‘oh you’re that bitchy girl on the Arkadia lacrosse team all the boys talk about,’ I was absolutely dying!”

Harper laughed before giving Aisling a questioning look. “Isn’t that what Tinder is for?” She asked with a confused tilt to her voice, “sliding into people’s DM’s?” Aisling found it amusing sometimes how easy it had been for Harper and Monty to find each other; they were each other's first loves, and everyone believed they’d be in it for the long run. Their two-year anniversary had just passed, and the couple seemed happier than ever. 

“Aisling is too busy pining after Bellamy to actually use dating apps the right way,” Clarke waved off Aisling’s warning glare as she finished taking a drink out of the bottle in her hand. “Everyone here knows you’re in love with Bellamy, don’t act so surprised.” Clarke hiccupped and laughed before continuing, “and you say that like this entire island doesn’t revolve around lacrosse and everyone doesn’t know you as ‘that bitchy girl on Arkadia’s lacrosse team’, who even was it?”

“Probably Finn!” Raven announced loudly before she and Clarke both started laughing again, both clearly well past tipsy and on their way to drunk. “Why doesn’t your dad go out of town every weekend? This is awesome!” Having the two girls hungover at playoffs tomorrow would be an absolute treat for the rest of the friend group, that is if they weren’t all hungover the next morning.  

Aisling just shook her head while she stood up, stretching afterwards, her spine cracking in that sickly satisfying way when she turned to the left. “My dad doesn’t have an away game every weekend, ask the AEC if they can switch his schedule to no home games.” She set her water down on the table before turning around. “Actually don’t,” she corrected herself after realizing she wouldn’t put it past Raven and Clarke to actually email God knows who at the America East Conference and ask to have Stony Brook’s football season shifted to all away games while they were drunk. 

Aisling took Raven and Clarke falling into a very animated conversation about how much they dislike their shared ex as her cue to leave. Slipping her feet back into her flip flops, she made her way up the stairs of her home’s large patio and grabbed her half-drunk bottle of Gatorade off the wooden railing after she reached the top. “How’s not drinking going?” Octavia asked while they both looked out into Aisling’s backyard, filled with their friends who were all probably at least tipsy. 

The lights her father had installed into the yard when she had been younger lit up the area and the pool sat illuminated in the background. The early Long Island summer air still had a chill to it, enough of one that Aisling slipped on a hoodie when she had gone inside to order dinner earlier. They were waiting for Octavia’s older brother, Bellamy, and their friend, John Murphy, to get back from picking up the group’s excessively large order from The Dead Zone.

Leaning over the wooden railing of her deck, a bottle of red Gatorade in her hand, Aisling just laughed, her shoulders shaking slightly. “I can’t believe we’re the ones who have playoffs tomorrow and we’re babysitting our drunk friends. Like I at least wanted to take a couple shots of something,” she scrunched her nose up when the strong smell of marijuana washed over her. “I said no weed Jasper! Monty too! It does not need to get out that my dad lets his daughter’s friends come over while he’s at a game to drink underage and smoke pot!”

Aisling rolled her eyes when she heard the boys in question yell “Sorry!”. Where they even were in her large yard wasn’t a question she asked anymore, she just needed to make sure they stayed out of trouble. 

“Effective,” Octavia laughed. “So,” She trailed off while she dangled her water bottle over the edge of the deck, swinging it back and forth slowly. “Is your dad still recruiting that boy from-” Octavia got cut off when the two girls heard the back door slide open. Bellamy and John each carried two large boxes that were filled with food. At least she knew that their weekly orders were probably paying some of the bills at the Dead Zone. 

“They have your dad’s card on file?” Murphy said as he set his boxes down on the outside kitchen’s countertop. “Because we said we were picking up under Bryne and the guy was like ‘oh yeah Aisling called we put it on the card already’, that was at least three hundred easy.” Aisling grabbed her order of mozzarella sticks and crunchy chicken wrap before shrugging. 

She bit into one of the sticks before speaking. “When my dad says to buy whatever we want and he has the salary he does, I think it’s fine.” She set her things down on the outdoor bar. “Tell the drunken delinquents that their food is here, but I suggest grabbing yours first.” She walked over to the fridge and sifted past the countless types of alcohol that had been placed inside it earlier to grab a bottle of raspberry tea, cracking the top before grabbing her food and walking out to the pool. 

Walking past her friends who were going to retrieve whatever they had ordered, Aisling pushed the gate to her family’s large inground pool open, walking around the brick deck area before carefully setting her things down next to the edge of the deep end. She balanced on one arm while she slid her feet into the water, the LED lights in the pool illuminating the water in different colors. She slowly kicked her feet back and forth, watching the water ripple as she did. 

“Food for thought?” She gasped and nearly fell into the pool when she heard Bellamy’s voice. She hadn’t heard him enter the pool area and wasn’t really paying enough attention to have heard him anyway. “Sorry if I scared you,” he set three containers down along with a bottle of Cherry Coke. 

Aisling just shook her head, “you’re okay, I wasn’t paying attention so part of that is on me. You can drink, you know?” She nodded towards the bottle of Coke, “you’re like the only one of us who’s actually twenty-one.” She kept kicking her feet in the water, watching as it rippled out with each movement she made. She hoped that it would distract her from the fact that Bellamy Blake actually sat down right next to her. Well, it’s not like they’re not in close proximity all the time, because they are, but this just feels different.  

“I’d rather not leave the babysitting up to just you and O,” Bellamy picked up one of his wings and bit into it, licking the extra sauce off his lips before continuing. Aisling tried not to watch as his tongue swept across his lips, that would definitely be awkward if he caught her. “You two are stressed enough as is, you more-so probably,” he continued to devour his food. 

“I’m not like, stressed,” Ash mumbled around the bite of chicken wrap she had in her mouth, “I know I’m playing at Penn State next year, my commitment is locked in if we win tomorrow and move on to states or not.” She wiped her hands off on a napkin, “it’s not like a problem for seniors y’know?”

Bellamy dropped the bone that had been left from his first wing back into the container before grabbing a few french fries out of another container and shoving them into his mouth.

“It’s still probably weird for you,” Bellamy spoke after a few moments of silence between the pair, “I mean sure you’re graduating a year early and with almost all of your friends now,” Bellamy took a long sip of his Coke. “And I know that almost all of you are going away to school, but Clarke is going with Raven and they’ll be able to room together. Jasper and Monty are doing the same thing, Miller’s staying here and I think Murphy is taking it day by day,” Aisling laughed at that, “but you’re going up to Pennsylvania by yourself, a month earlier than everyone else is leaving, it’s just weird is all.”

Aisling wasn’t quite sure how to respond, sure she’d had a weird sense of guilt about being the first of their friend group to leave home nagging her for months, but she hadn’t had someone else bring it up to her yet. Bellamy had seemed to be one of the few constant figures in her life since she had met Octavia at her very first lacrosse practice in second grade. The now twenty-three-year-old, had spent more than his fair share of time babysitting Octavia and Aisling when they were younger. He had played too many board games, fallen victim to makeovers and watched more Disney movies than any teenage boy would have wanted to admit at the time. However, he always did it with a smile and never seemed anything less than happy to be with the girls. That had never been something Aisling experienced with her own brother’s.

Patrick, Aisling’s oldest brother, had been in the tenth grade when she had been born. He had been in the middle of the college recruiting process for football and sat at the number five spot for recruits nationwide. He didn’t have time to deal with a baby sister, especially after he went off to Louisiana State University right before Aisling had turned two. Tanner, who had been in kindergarten at the time, also didn’t want much to do with Aisling. He had been much more engrossed in learning how to play football with his dad and older brother, something she didn’t blame him at all for. Football had been their family’s culture for decades. Around the time Aisling had been born her dad had just started coaching college football at Baylor after his pro career with the Cowboys had ended due to injury, football was in the Bryne blood.

Two weeks before Aisling had started second grade the Bryne family had relocated to Arkadia, New York. A small beach town about ten minutes from Stony Brook University, home of the Stony Brook Seawolves football team and her father’s new head coaching job. She met Octavia Blake at the very first lacrosse practice she attended after moving. Aisling hadn’t wanted to play lacrosse at first, but her father insisted his daughter at least learn to play lacrosse if she would never have the chance to carry on the family name playing football.

“I-” Aisling started but couldn’t figure out how she should respond. “It’s not that I’m not upset, because I am, trust me,” she went to take another bite of her wrap, but her appetite had seemed to disappear. “It’s just an opportunity that’s kind of hard to turn down, and Penn State is one of the top teams in the country Bellamy, they’re looking like they’re going to make it to at least play-off, if not to a national title game next year.”

Silence came over the two and Aisling wasn’t quite sure how to continue. ‘Yeah I love you and it sucks I have to leave?’ definitely not smart. “I guess all I’m saying is that,” Bellamy sighed, “as weird as it is for you, it’s just as weird for everyone else and some of us feel like you’re putting what your family wants before what you want.”

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Aisling Bryne had always been raised to be an athlete, to be competitive, not to be nice. With a former NFL player and current Division 1 College Football Coach for a father, one brother in the NFL with a Super Bowl ring on his finger and another brother attending the University of Texas as the number one ranked college quarterback in the country, she knew no different. She grew up living and breathing football, which meant she also grew up around her dad’s players and her brother’s teammates. 

Safe to say unrealistic relationship standards had been set for her very early on in her life.

At the age of ten Aisling’s competitive nature had earned her the very first broken bone. A Saturday morning lacrosse tournament during college football season meant that Aisling’s father, Sean, wouldn’t be able to attend. Instead, she had stayed with her best friend and teammate Octavia Blake the night before. Aurora Blake had ordered two pizzas before she had to go to work and left her son, Bellamy, with strict instructions to make sure the girls didn’t inhale all the sugar in the house and that they got to bed early. Luckily, Bellamy had let the pair stay up for one extra movie and even made them hot chocolate!

Octavia and Aisling were both in fifth grade while all their other teammates were in sixth or seventh grade! The two girls had proved their athletic abilities very early on in their lacrosse careers and instead of being put into the 10U division when they were eight, they had been bumped up to 12U early. They had formed a tight knit friendship rather quickly and both girls intended to stay playing on the same team until they were forced to part ways in college, if they didn’t commit to the same team, of course. Now they played on a 14U team and it was hard to form bonds with the girls in middle school while they were still in elementary school.

The two girls sat on the sidelines of the turf field, lacing their cleats up along with the rest of their teammates, getting ready for the final game of the day. The Arkadia Knights 14U team had made it all the way to the tournament’s championship game and all the girls wanted to win another trophy. “I’m still not great at tying these by myself,” Aisling held the two laces in her hands while she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. 

“Oh,” Octavia looked over to her best friend with a crooked smile, some of her visible teeth still missing, “I’m not good at doing other people’s yet.” She huffed while looking around them.

“I don’t want to ask one of the other girls,” Aisling whispered so only Octavia could hear. “They’ll think I’m a baby!” She had spent long enough trying to prove she could play just as well as the older girls on the team. After she had taken one of the starting defensive spots from a sixth grader, Aisling wasn't sure if they liked her very much anymore. She did not want to have to ask for help tying her cleats, what if it got back to their coach that she couldn’t do it by herself and he took her spot away?

Octavia spent a little longer looking around before turning to aisling with a smile. “You could ask Bellamy!” She pointed to her older brother who sat next to her mom in the stands, clearly engrossed in his phone. Bellamy would also probably think Aisling was a baby for not being able to tie her own cleats, he had been the starting quarterback for their highschool football team as a sophomore! Definitely too cool for little kids. 

However, asking Bellamy seemed like a better option than asking one of her other teammates so Aisling sighed and pushed herself off the ground, carefully walking towards the stands. She made her way up the metal stands and over to where Bellamy and Aurora Blake sat. “Hey Ash,” Aurora looked at the younger girl, “what’s wrong?”

“I can't tie my cleats and make them stay by myself,” she looked down at her untied laces. “And I didn’t want to ask one of the other girls because they’ll think I’m a little kid and make fun of me and O said to ask Bellamy.” 

At the mention of his name the teenager in question looked up and set his phone down next to him. “No one should be making fun of you for that, Ash,” Bellamy patted his knee and Aisling put her right foot up on it. She watched as Bellamy quickly double knotted her first cleat before telling her to switch. “Don’t let anyone be mean to you or O because you’re younger, okay?” Bellamy asked after he finished tying her second cleat.

“Okay,” she nodded, “thanks Bell!” She waved before running back down to join her team. 

About halfway into the third quarter while playing defense Aisling had managed to check the ball out of an opposing player’s stick and scooped it up before she started running up the field to find an open teammate. Just as she had been about to cross midfield, she noticed a player from the other team running up to try and block her.

However, the other player clearly had another idea and Aisling didn’t have time to move before the head of the other girl’s stick came down hard on her wrist. A crack could be heard upon impact and Aisling’s stick fell out of her hand before she fell on the ground, holding her right arms close to herself. The penalty whistle on the other player didn’t register in her mind as her coach came running out to make sure she was okay. 

When she pulled her arm far enough away from herself to look at it, she noticed her wrist had been bent at an odd angle and she couldn’t really feel her fingers. Octavia sat down on the turf next to her while her coach went to go get Aisling’s cell phone so she could call her dad. “He has a game today!” Aisling winced when her assistant coach wrapped an ice pack around her wrist.

“Well it looked broken, I’m sure he could miss his game because you got hurt,” Octavia helped aisling up and they walked off the field to where Aurora and Bellamy were waiting. Aurora had her phone held to her ear but stopped talking to tell Octavia to gather up her and Aisling’s things.   

“Let’s see what this looks like,” Bellamy carefully pulled the ice pack away from Aisling’s wrist and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth when he too noticed the odd angle it had been bent at. “Mom called your dad,” Bellamy spoke softly while he wrapped her arm back up in the ice pack, “he said we could take you straight to the college if you’re the most comfortable with that,” Aisling just shrugged and held her arm close to herself again.

She knew that there would be actual doctors, definitely an orthopedist, at Stony Brook that day with there being a home game. The tournament had put them about half an hour away from the university and the Blakes knew that she didn’t like hospitals, especially after her mom had passed, so it seemed like the most obvious solution.  “I mean, I don’t want to bother anyone with you guys having to go there. You could just bring me home once the game is over and I’m sure my brothers will know what to do.”

“There’s a football game!” Octavia dropped her and Aisling’s things on the ground before she started to pack them up, “I’m sure Bell won’t be bothered going to Stony Brook the same day there happens to be a football game going on.”

Bellamy shrugged, his hair falling into his eyes a little bit while he picked up Aisling’s packed lacrosse bag. “Let’s go Ash, I’ll sit in the back with you to make sure you’re okay and O will be more than happy to ride shotgun, I’m sure,” he smiled at his younger sister. Octavia just answered her brother with a wide smile and ran off in the direction of her mom’s car while Aisling got sent off with well wishes from her teammates and coaches. 

After driving the half an hour to Stony Brook Aisling pulled out the SBU ID card her dad had gotten her for when she had to spend days at the stadium or training fields. She handed Aurora her card when they pulled up to the security booth and rolled down the passenger side windows while they waited for one of the security guards to approach them. “Hey Ted!” Aisling waved with her good hand while the older man walked up to the car. “Ms. Blake has my ID card! Dad’s expecting us,” she pointed to her arm that Bellamy still held tightly wrapped up in the ice pack. 

“He did call and tell me you’d be coming,” Ted laughed lightly before waving off Aisling’s ID card. “I’m sure Ash could direct you to the medical center, Sean called the orthopedist and he’s waiting for her.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of sideline tickets for the game. “He also left these, told me that someone would be very interested in watching the game.” 

Aisling reached out and grabbed the game tickets with her good arm, “see,” she waved them in Bellamy’s face. “I told you dad would let you watch the game!” She handed him the three tickets. “Now let’s go get this fixed because I also want to see the game!” She waved goodbye to Ted and started to direct Aurora to the medical center.

Bellamy watched with fascination as they drove around the football complex, his eyes clearly trying to take in everything they could. Being a sophomore in high school and a starting quarterback currently ranked twelfth for the position nationally, Bellamy already had coaches looking to begin the recruiting process. Those coaches included Sean Bryne. “I think it’s a bit much,” Aisling speaking snapped Bellamy out of his trance, “but that’s what Division 1 football looks like apparently,” she winced as they went over a speed bump.

Aurora pulled up outside the medical center and Bellamy got out first before rounding the front of the car to help Aisling out, holding her arm steady while she did. She felt the bones inside shifting and it hurt, really bad, but she couldn’t cry in front of Bellamy of all people. Instead she bit down on her tongue while the pair made their way inside the building. “Mark!” Aisling smiled when she saw the team orthopedist, he wasn’t at the university every day, but when he was, he usually showed Aisling pictures of his dogs. 

“What happened to you!” Mark gave Bellamy a thankful smile while he took Aisling’s arm out of the teen’s careful hold. “Your dad told me you’d be coming!” He led Aisling over to one of the many medical style tables in the large room, picking her up by her waist and setting her down. 

Bellamy followed behind the pair, unsure what he should do now that he didn’t have Aisling to actively take care of. “Is he here?” He heard Aisling ask while the man, Mark, unwrapped the ice pack and small towel from around her arm.

“No,” Bellamy winced when he heard Mark mumble the word. “His game is starting soon, but I promised I’d take care of you!” A younger woman walked out from a different room and Mark lifted Aisling up again and set her on the ground. “How about you go with Heidi and get an x-ray then we’ll fix you up!” He ushered Aisling toward the blonde woman.    

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

“I cannot believe you still have that,” Bellamy really needed to stop sneaking up on her. Aisling didn’t even flinch this time while she continued peeling her rings off her fingers, tucking each one back into the box it belonged in. The party had begun to die down and with assurance that Murphy had actually stayed sober, Aisling and Octavia didn’t feel too bad going to bed early so that they could be well rested for playoffs the next morning.

She felt Bellamy’s presence at her side and watched as he reached up on the top shelf of her dresser to pick up the smallest cast there. The purple plaster appeared to be old and dusty from all the time it had sat on display. She also felt oddly at ease with how comfortable he felt being in her space. There had never been an awkwardness in the air with the two while they moved about each other’s spaces. They were just able to easily exist together and function like a well-oiled machine. It was comforting.

“I kept all of them,” Aisling watched as Bellamy turned the small cast over in his hand, being careful not to pull apart the plaster that had been glued back together once Aisling had it taken off. She grabbed her second cast off the shelf, the one from a wrestling match with her older brothers that had gotten slightly out of hand. “Here,” she grabbed the purple one out of Bellamy’s hand.

She turned it over and pointed to a signature that had been signed in silver, right above where her thumb would have been when she had the cast on. “Oh my god, my handwriting was absolutely terrible, how did I actually do well in school,” he laughed lightly. 

“This one got a little better,” Aisling turned the second cast over in her hand, this one orange instead of purple, and pointed to Bellamy’s signature that had been placed in the same spot and written in the same color.  

Aisling braced herself on her dresser with her right hand while she placed both casts back into their places with her left. Her left forearm still had the scar that stretched from about three inches below her elbow to her wrist. After her oldest brother had practically snapped her arm in half, by accident of course, she needed to have screws put in to hold it together. “Won’t you miss things like this too?” Bellamy sat down on Aisling’s bed.

The girl in question didn’t answer immediately as she continued to peel off the jewelry that she had put on earlier that morning. She had never been one to dress fancy, usually being most comfortable in a pair of shorts or jeans and a tee or hoodie. However, Aisling did love to pair every outfit she wore with an abundance of jewelry. In her sophomore year her friends had started joking that she looked naked without any jewelry on. She always had the same earrings in, two diamond studs, her birthstone, in both earlobes and a helix piercing in her left ear. She also tended to wear the same necklace every day, but it could almost be guaranteed that she would never wear the same combination of rings or bracelets. 

“Of course, I’ll miss all the memories I have here, Bellamy.” Aisling rolled her eyes while she continued placing her jewelry into the appropriate bags and boxes. She wouldn’t be able to wear them for playoffs the next morning and opted to put everything back into her jewelry box. “You’re really starting to sound dumb now,” she finally turned around, her arms crossed over her chest. 

Bellamy leaned back on to Aisling’s bed, bracing himself on his forearms while his eyes raked over Aisling’s figure. She didn’t shrink under his gaze and instead opted to lean back against her dresser, her arm still crossed over her chest. She’d grown up with Bellamy, she knew too much about him to ever see him as intimidating. Sure, when she had been younger she never would have wanted to overstep any boundaries with him and his authority, but now, now they were on a level playing field. Aisling had recently turned seventeen, she didn’t have to listen to Bellamy anymore.

“Oh,” he tilted his head back to laugh. Aisling tried to avert her eyes from his neck, the tan and freckled skin stretching in the most inviting way. “I’m the one who sounds dumb?” He pushed himself upright, his feet planting themselves on the plush cream carpet that covered Aisling’s floor. His elbows came to rest on his knees, and he rested his chin on his folded hands. “Enlighten me then!”

Taking a moment to collect her thoughts Aisling closed her eyes and breathed in deeply through her nose. She didn't understand why Bellamy would pick the night before playoffs to start asking her the ‘deep’ questions. She really wasn't all that stressed about winning because she had a four-year scholarship secured, but she had a whole team behind her she couldn’t let down. She couldn’t let Octavia down. Octavia planned to commit to playing at Notre Dame for college, her commitment more or less depended on Arkadia’s performance in playoffs this season.

“Not everyone wants to stay home forever Bellamy!” Aisling hadn’t meant to raise her voice at the older boy, but she did. “I love Arkadia, I love all the friends I made here,” she sank down into the chair next to her dresser, “but sometimes you have to let yourself explore the world a little bit.” She felt her muscles start to tense up and tried to force herself to relax, she couldn’t be tight for the game tomorrow. “Not all of us turn down a D-One scholarship to stay home!”

“And not all of us have a rich dad or brothers who try to buy their kid’s happiness or sibling time because they’re never home to see her!” As soon as Bellamy finished speaking Aisling watched his eyes widen, his adam's apple bobbing when he swallowed. “Aisling I-”

“Save it, Bell,” Aisling stood up and grabbed a hoodie, pulling it over the tank top she had on before she also picked up her wallet and keys. She pressed the automatic start button and watched as the headlights on her ocean blue, Jeep Wrangler Sport lit up the driveway. “I’ll see you tomorrow okay?” She made sure to tuck her charger and phone into her lacrosse bag before slinging it over her shoulder. 

Bellamy stood up, his mouth opening but no words coming out, “seriously,” Aisling mumbled. “Save it for another day, Bellamy,” the door to Aisling’s bedroom closed behind her. “C’mon Moose!” He heard her call her family’s German Shepard along to follow her. Bellamy stood in the middle of Aisling’s room, alone; the carpet she had put down to cover the hardwood floors soft under his sock covered feet. He felt the guilt starting to crawl up the back of his throat, or maybe that was just the wave of nausea that had hit him already. Bellamy felt a stronger wave of nausea hit him and he quickly pushed into Aisling’s bathroom and found himself hovering over the toilet, waiting for the feeling to pass.

“Bell?” He heard his sister’s voice in the hallway and quickly pushed himself up off the floor, forcing himself to fight through the feeling that he would be sick any second. “Bellamy?” He heard Octavia call again, louder this time. He took a deep breath before stepping out into Aisling’s room again, Octavia hovering in the doorway. “What happened?” 

Octavia’s question hadn’t even registered in Bellamy’s mind before he brushed past her to get into the hallway. Aisling’s room felt suffocating all of a sudden, the scent of her perfume lingered in the air.

He could smell the coconut shampoo and conditioner she always used.

The pink sugar lotion she loved.

Icy Hot.

It was too much her, for him to handle. “Bellamy!” Octavia yelled this time. 

Like a bucket of ice-cold water had just been poured over his head; Bellamy took in a sharp breath before he turned to face his sister. “We need to find where she went!” He tried to push past Octavia who now stood in front of the staircase of the Bryne home, stopping her older brother from going anywhere in his panicked state.

“Aisling said she’d be back later,” Octavia spoke softly, like she would scare Bellamy away if she said the words any louder, “she told me to make sure we lock up the house before everyone goes to bed.”

Octavia’s words, however, didn’t register in Bellamy’s mind. All he could hear was the erratic rhythm of his heartbeat pounding in his ears and Aisling’s voice echoing in his mind.

[desperate-entwives]

And what’s he then that says I play the villain?

Merry late Christmas and happy late New Year, @infernalandmortal <3

Emori did the dishes like she always did: carefully, balancing the plates in the flat of her larger hand as she gripped the sponge with the other, dexterous in a way that comes only from necessity. She was giving her dishes extra focus, and after that would come cleaning out the fridge, and then going through her clothes for stuff to sell on ebay, and then and only then might she think about the audition she’d promised Raven she would attend that evening. 

“Don’t you need more tech people?” she’d asked the night before, sure they were a rarity. “I could be a tech person. I’m good at being a tech person.” “Normally we’d beg for more tech people,” she’d replied, “but luckily for you, we actually don’t need them right now. And you need to get out of your comfort zone.” 

And it wasn’t like she was wrong. 

The chores (which Emori, incidentally, usually put off as long as God and Raven Reyes would allow) took about forty-five minutes, and she milled on the steps of her apartment building for a good ten minutes after, wondering why she’d agreed to this but knowing, entirely, that she had, and not just because Othello was one of her favorite plays. After the end of a cascade of problems (legal trouble, the end of graduate school, and helping her brother escape the abusive household they’d been raised in, you know, typical things) Emori had realized her ability to maintain casual relationships had almost disappeared, her roommate and best friend notwithstanding. The past three months had been a quiet spell; work at the lab and nothing much else. Raven, who volunteered as lighting technician and occasional stage manager with one of the hundreds of theatre groups in the burrough, was committed to helping her not fade into social obscurity. 

It was nice. It was also annoying. 

As she leaned against the complex’s glass door and wondered how else she could kill time and ignore her raging nerves, Emori suddenly noticed a guy standing at the foot of the steps, staring at her. 

“What are you looking at?” she snapped, trying to resist the urge to tuck her left hand into her coat pocket.

Brows raised, he lifted his palms like someone surrendering. “Just want to, you know, enter my apartment building.”

Her breath came out between her teeth as a hiss. “Right. Sorry.” She stepped aside, trying to ignore the embarrassment flooding through her. 

But at least it was a distraction from the nerves, which had dimmed momentarily only to rage again once remembered. She checked her phone. Two hours to go.

---

The time was eventually killed at Socrates Sculpture Park, and by the time the audition rolled around, Emori was calmer. Something about the way people took garbage and made it beautiful (though, essentially, useless) fascinated her. So when she stepped into the church basement that was being rented out for auditions, she felt confident. Excited, almost.

“Good, there you are,” Raven said, abandoning a desk where she’d been perched with a half-filled piece of paper on a clipboard. “Thought you were gonna back out.” “I’m a woman of my word.”  “Are you?” Raven clicked her tongue and added Emori’s name to the list before handing her a small audition form. “Here, fill this out. We’re just doing cold readings today.” 

Raven’s small desk was tucked into the side of the room: the rest of the space was taken up with lines of graying folding chairs, which had been cleared from one side of the room. Presumably that would be their stage area. As she made to go sit in the far corner, Raven rolled her eyes and gestured for her to come closer.  “Why are you making this so hard for me?” Raven tugged on her sleeve and walked over to a dark-haired man reading from a tattered script. “Hey Bellamy, this is Emori. I’ve told you about her.”  “I don’t know what you could have said,” Emori said honestly.  “That you have stage presence and absolutely no experience.”  “Thanks.” “It’s nice to meet you,” Bellamy said, grinning at Raven before turning to Emori. There was something about his demeanor that put her immediately at ease, and she figured there could be more intimidating directors. “I’m looking forward to seeing you read.” 

“Don’t get your hopes up,” she said, and Raven elbowed her in the ribs. 

---

While Raven signed the other actors in, Bellamy introduced Emori to a few other regulars with the company before settling in the front with the assistant director, a tall brunette named Echo who struck Emori as the opposite of calming. The audition process was entirely informal– relaxed, even, for such serious subject matter. Emori read for Desdamona and Emelia and even the titular character (“this is gender-blind casting,” Raven called when she was summoned up, “and the only limitation is that Othello can’t be white.”). She was halfway through a soliloquy when the guy who was staring at her outside her apartment building walked in.   She felt like she was going to choke on the middle English and her words fell away because, yeah, that was him. The same sharp blue eyes and prominent nose.  “Keep going,” Bellamy said to Emori before casting a glance in the newcomer’s direction. “It’s not your fault that some actors are rude assholes who can’t make it to an audition on time.”  “I had a situation,” the guy said, so casually that Emori realized they were probably friends, and, as though to solidify this deduction, stepped forward to ruffle Bellamy’s hair before sitting down.  After finishing, the assistant director stopped Emori from leaving the stage before turning, looking at the newcomer with either exasperation or fondness, maybe both, and saying, “Murphy, read for Iago.”  “I’ve barely had a chance to read the sides,” Murphy complained.  “Too bad,” Bellamy said, and cast a glance at Echo. She nodded, and he continued. “Emori, do you have the excerpt from Act Three up there with you?”  Emori shuffled through the papers and found the scene in question, which was a dialogue between Iago and Emelia. When Murphy ambled onstage, she was suddenly aware of his physicality, which shifted a little bit once he stood across from her. It was the character, she realized; the sharpness of Iago intensified the sharpness in him. It made something in her liquify; it was a challenge, almost, and she tilted her chin up as he said, without being bid to start, “How now! What do you here alone?”  “Do not you chide,” she said, familiar with the lines by now, “I have a thing for you.”  He smirked at that, stepping around her in something almost feline. “A thing? It is a common thing—”  “Ha,” she muttered, turning to keep her eye on him.  “—to have a foolish wife.”  “Oh, is that all?” she said, curling her left fist as though hiding a scrap of fabric. She turned away from him before dropping the information: “What will you give me now for the same handkerchief?”  He stepped around her, glaring down as their eyes locked. It’s funny, Emori thought, exactly how intense eye contact could be, even when you were speaking to someone emotionally clothed as someone else. “Wh– what handkerchief?” he said, turning the stutter into a character choice relaying eagerness. The stutter wasn’t in the play, so Emori tucked that information away somewhere in the back of her mind.  “What handkerchief?” she said smoothly, and smiled up at him like she had once at a policeman she’d bribed out of a shoplifting arrest. All darkness in the eyes, a bit of trust, a hook and string. “Why, that the Moor first gave to Desdemona, that which so often you did bid me steal.” “Hast stolen it from her?” he said, and a grin crept onto his face. That liquid unraveling again; she tried to resist it, to keep the mask up.  “Okay, guys,” Bellamy said before she could articulate her next line, “I think we’ve seen enough.” 

---

Emori left without Raven, who had to discuss casting with Echo and Bellamy for a while. After smiling at some of the other people she’d met (among them a quiet blonde girl named Harper with a strong stage presence, the kind that makes you stop breathing and listen, and her boyfriend, a dark-haired boy who worked with props), she started down the street towards the closest subway entrance.  “Hey, wait up,” a voice called, and she turned to see Murphy jogging to catch up with her.  “Hi,” she said, realizing that, though she felt she knew him after that reading, they’d never actually had a real conversation.  “You’re Emori, right?”  “Yeah.” “John Murphy,” he said, ducking his head a little. “We’re neighbors, actually.”  “I remember. Sorry for snapping at you earlier, John.”   He barked out a laugh, slightly self-deprecating. “I’m used to it.”  She grinned, but said, “Well, you shouldn’t be used to that.” Something flashed in his eyes and she decided to drop it for now, because there was something serious under there to excavate, and she had to be careful about doing that these days.  “You’re good,” he said, almost awkwardly, and she realized it was a compliment about her acting. A beat, and then: “I hear you live with Reyes.”  “I do. We met in college.”  “I’ve known her forever. It’s why she hates me.”  He said it flippantly, so she laughed. “I take it there’s a whole story there.”  “You have no idea. Well, you live with her, so maybe you do.”  She and Raven were close, but she didn’t know all that much about Raven’s life before college. “I tend to think a past version of you wouldn’t be real anyway,” she said, choosing the words carefully.  “You might be alone in that,” he said, and she realized they were walking in synch, the exact same speed and pace, in spite of his longer legs.  “I’m alone in a lot of things.”  “Mysterious.”  She stopped walking and looked up at him. “Why were you staring at me outside my apartment?” she said, because she’d been wondering all night.  He ran a hand through his hair, avoiding her eyes. “You were blocking the door,” he mumbled.  She raised an eyebrow.  “It’s okay,” he continued. “I liked that you were blocking the door. I guess that’s why. Also, your hand.”  “What about it?” she said, defenses ready to manifest, covering all the doors.  “It’s cool.”  That took her aback. “Cool?”  “Yeah, you know. Kinda badass. Your whole vibe says you could beat me up.” He grinned, and that awkward vulnerability slipped behind that sharp charm again. She was beginning to learn his patterns already and that one word, already, curled into her brain and started to live there. The implication of time lingering there in her thoughts. “I’m into that.”  She laughed, and leaned against the railing of a closed shop. “Liar.”  “I could prove it to you,” he offered. “Sometime. If you want.”  She studied him, the way headlights caught in the sharp panes of his face. There were people everywhere, as there always were in Queens, but he was the only one she could take any notice of. She had the distinct feeling that he was slippery, and she’d caught him.  “How about we take a walk, instead,” she said. “Anywhere in particular?” “Socrates,” she said, before she could change her mind. It was sudden, but she realized there was something in him she did want to excavate. The only way to keep herself accountable was to take him to her vulnerable place; the sculpture park, with all of its artfully scattered trash.  “The park? I love that place,” he said, and before the words could register, her phone buzzed. So did John’s. Hers was a message from Raven:  The cast list will be sent out tomorrow but you know who you got.  And then, like an afterthought, another buzz.  You know what the guy walking you home got, too. 

She guessed John’s message was similar, because they both grinned as they looked up. 

“Ready for marriage?” she asked.  “It’s a little fast,” he said as they began walking again, “but I’m game.”

[bthenoise]

Q&A: Silverstein’s Shane Told Talks ‘A Beautiful Place To Drown’ Plus Celebrating 20 Years Of An Amazing Career

Can you think of one thing you’ve consistently done for 20 straight years? And no, eating and sleeping don't count. 

Try and think of a hobby or profession you’ve been doing for two whole decades where seemingly every year you continue to get better and better and better. 

Anything? Well, guess we can’t all be Silverstein. 

Gearing up for their biggest year yet as they celebrate the big 2-0, the Canadian noisemakers will be hitting North America performing three sets (Discovering The Waterfront in full, an acoustic set and a greatest hits set) and preparing to release their ninth full-length album A Beautiful Place To Drown.

In order to get a feel for Silverstein’s busy yet exciting year ahead of them, we caught up with frontman Shane Told to talk about everything from their new record to his love of the Toronto Raptors.

To see what Told had to say about one of Silverstein’s most experimental releases as well as his story about how “My Heroine” almost never made it on Discovering The Waterfront, be sure to see below. Afterward, make sure to pre-order the band’s new album before it hits stores March 6th and grab tickets to see them out on tour with Four Year Strong and I The Mighty here.     

You have a lot of exciting things coming up with the 20-year tour and your new album A Beautiful Place To Drown. Which do you think you’re most excited for?

Shane Told: Oh, that's hard! That's a hard question, man.

Yeah, we're starting with the tough ones first [laughs].

It's not easy to pick a favorite there. To be completely honest, I think it's the tour I'm most excited about because there's this excitement to go do this thing and spend a lot of time in the live environment going to all these different cities and playing these epic sets. We're playing like almost two hours a night and just to have those songs sang back to us, that's a pretty amazing feeling. Obviously, the new album is super exciting too because everyone's gonna hear this thing. But you know, we recorded it six months ago. So it's like, for me, I've heard the songs a billion times already. It's always funny, by the time a record comes out -- not to say I'm sick of it -- but you know, you poured over it so much that it's like, “Okay, finally it's out.” It's more a sense of relief than it is excitement sometimes with new records.

Was there any part of you guys that wanted to release the record later in the year so you could focus more on the 20-year tour first?

No, not at all. In fact, it's always been something we've thought was important. You know, to have that great balance between our legacy and all the things we've done in the past that we're proud of and records we put out and the milestones we've achieved such as 20 years of the band and 15 years of Discovering The Waterfront. Those things are great. But at the same time, we’re a band that never broke up. We never went on hiatus, we never took a break. We've been doing this the whole time. And you know, our fans and critics tell us our last few records are our best records. So for us, it's always important to push forward and have new stuff come out at the same time we're celebrating the old stuff and the milestones we've achieved. I remember when we did the Discovering The Waterfront 10-year-anniversary tour -- I guess it was five years ago. We had our album I'm Alive In Everything I Touch coming out and it was really important for us to play “Midwestern State Of Emergency” and show people “Okay yeah, 10 years ago we put out this record but we're also making some of our best music now.” And since we made that record, we've put out maybe our two best albums. So it's really important for us to do those things, I think, together. Rather than say, “Okay, yeah, here's this 20-year-anniversary tour” and like, “Oh yeah, by the way, in a few months we're going to work on the new stuff.” I think it makes sense to do it together so our fans are aware of it.

With you guys playing your longest set ever, will you be able to fit new music into the setlist?

Yeah I mean, we can't play half the [new] record. But that's just the challenge that happens when you've been a band as long as we have and put out so much music, you know? This is our ninth record. So when we're playing Discovering The Waterfront in full, if we played it all the way through without talking, that's like 45 minutes right there. So it's interesting as you go on with a band and a career, your sets have to get longer or you have to inevitably start cutting songs out and it gets more and more difficult. So people coming out can expect us to play a couple new songs from the new record but then a lot of it's going to be the classics and a few deep cuts in there. You know, a few curveballs just for some people that have seen us a million times and haven't heard a specific old song. We try to do that, too. I think it's really just, we're trying to encompass the whole career. Not super heavy on the new record yet. We're really just celebrating how we've gotten to this point with two decades.  

For you personally, how do you prepare for such a long set?  

I won't lie to you. There definitely was some concern from -- I'm not gonna say me -- but from just everybody kind of on our team when we decided, “Okay well, 20 years is coming up, what are we gonna do?” Like, it was my idea to do the three sets. It was my idea to put together the longest show ever and I was excited about it. That's when our agent said, “Are you guys sure? Are you guys good to do this? Like, a two-hour show?” And our drummer, he's also our manager, he's like, “Are we okay to do this? Like, Shane can you do it?” And I'm like, “Yeah, I'll be fine man. I believe in myself, I can do it.” And then as we got closer and closer and the tour routing got put together, our agent put a few more days off in there. Our drummer/manager, he put in a couple extra days off in there. And I said to him, I'm like, “I'm okay. I'm going to get through this, I always do.” And he's like, “Well, you know, for the rest of us it's not easy either.” [laughs] So we have a few extra days off in there, just to I guess maintain a little bit of sanity and have a little bit of a breather. But you know, we already did the European leg of the tour. The North American run starts on Friday but we already did seven days in Europe. So we did two shows and then we had a day off and then we did five in a row and I got through it just fine. My voice held up great. In fact, some of the guys in the band thought I sang better than ever before. So that's pretty exciting. We haven't really done any touring in like six months [since] we were making the new record. It is a lot to bite off but I think I can chew it no problem.

We mean, you guys are celebrating 20 years as a band. You're a professional at this point, you can handle this no problem! [laughs]

Yeah, and you know, [the shows] have gotten longer and longer. Like I said, you kind of have to, otherwise, you're just going to be cutting out more and more songs. So, I think the last show we did was still like over an hour and a half, probably 90 to 100 minutes. And this one's going to be like 120 minutes. So it's not that much longer. You know, for me, once I'm up there and I'm in the zone and I'm feeling good, I feel like I could sing for hours. So hopefully, [everything] holds up. 

Going back to A Beautiful Place To Drown, it's certainly one of the best Silverstein records and it definitely feels like a Silverstein record in the year 2020 as you guys tried a few different things on this record. One of them being all the amazing features. Where did some of those ideas for the features come from?

Well first of all, thank you for saying that. We feel really good [about this] record. I'm glad you noticed we took a few different approaches and a few chances. When we were putting this record together, we weren't completely ignorant or aloof of the fact that some of the stuff was a little out there for us. There were definitely discussions about songs like “All On Me” and just some of the ideas we had like, “Okay, are we really doing this?” In our career, we've played it safe a lot and that's fine. But every time we have taken a chance, it's paid off. So I think with this record, we were still careful and we still worked hard but we definitely did go for it. You know, and we did say like, “Fuck it, let's go for it.” I think that at the end of the day, at the end of the record, we feel good about it and we think that the product is better too.

So how that ties into your question about features is interesting too because, in the past, we would always think about features and we would say, “Okay look, we have this song, whose voice would be cool here?” And it's worked out a few times. We've had some great features over the years whether it's Lights on “The End” or Brendan Murphy from Counterparts on “The Artist.” We've always had people come in and do great parts but there's been a lot of them that haven't worked out. The reason that happens is because usually, we're so far along in the recording process by the time we say “Hey man, this could be cool to have a feature” [and] we figure out who the perfect voice is, we contact them, time has gone by, then they're on tour then they can't do it and we're like, “Okay, fuck it, no feature.” That's happened so many times. But with this record, we had most of the songs put together earlier on so we had a lot more time to give people to do it. 

Oh, perfect. 

For example, with “Infinite” and Aaron from Underoath -- he's a great buddy of mine -- I called him and I was like, “Hey man, I think your voice would be perfect on this song. Are you into it?” And he's like, “Yeah, I can't do it for like three weeks or a month” and I'm like, “No problem! We can do that.” And three weeks or a month later, he sent it and it was perfect and it was great. Same with Pierre from Simple Plan, he had some time [to work on the feature] and that was great. He's a buddy of mine, I just texted those people because they’re friends. Princess Nokia was a little bit different. She's a huge fan of our band. We met her in New York City. She came out to our show and she was just so lovely and after she came, I became more familiar with her music and her style and everything that she does. So when we were putting together “Madness,” the track she's on, we just thought having a female voice would be so great. And with the style of the song and the tempo we were like, “She'd be perfect!” Luckily, she was into it so that was great. And we had never done a guest guitar solo before, so [“Bad Habits”] with Intervals was fun. He's a friend from Canada. Canada is small, we all know each other. And Caleb from Beartooth is obviously one of our best friends. So those features all came together great but another thing I want to stress: all those features are first choice features. We don't do second choice features. We don't say, “Oh shit, Aaron from Underoath is on tour and can't do it? Okay, who's the next best we can get?” Like, the feature is either going to happen or it's not and once we've set our minds on somebody, that's the perfect person for the song, for the art and that's it. We're not going to go down some list and list and list until we end up with someone that wasn't the vision. So it was really cool we ended up getting all this to actually happen because so much of the time with other records we ended up having no features or just maybe one or two because some of them didn't work out.

It's so awesome to hear your enthusiasm for this record because sometimes when bands experiment, they might be a little unsure of things. But with you, it sounds like you got literally everything you wanted onto this album.

Yeah, I think so. I mean, we don't go into things with this like “eh fuck it,” [attitude] you know? This is our band. This is our career. This is important to all of us. One thing that's happened more and more as we've gotten to this point in the band is everyone's words and everyone's voice holds a lot more weight than it used to. It used to be, “Okay, I wrote this song. Here it is. It's my fucking song and here's how it's going to go. It's called ‘My Heroine’ and there it is.” And everyone's like, “Okay, fine. I guess.” Obviously, that did great. When you go with that approach for a long time and it works, it's fine. But then at some point, you realize sometimes there needs to be more cooks in the kitchen. Sometimes, when it's just you and the producer or you and the songwriter and the producer -- like a songwriter in the band and the producer and the singer are there -- they're missing something. They're so into the nuts and bolts of it, they don't see the big picture of the song. Then somebody from the back of the room that's maybe only even half-listening jumps in and goes “hey, what about this?” and it just opens a whole new thing for the song. That’s something we never used to approach the same way. But we have so much respect for every member of the band and everyone in the band's opinion that I think it really helps the record be what it is. But it was never like a “eh fuck it, whatever, let's put a saxophone solo in here. Who cares?” It was never that. Everything is as calculated as you can imagine.

For all the fans reading this thinking “Oh my god Silverstein's going to put out this crazy experimental record” A Beautiful Place To Drown is still very Silverstein. “September 14th,” sounds like something you could have released 10 years ago. 

I think you're right, for sure. There's something about my voice that just screams Silverstein. It doesn't matter what I do, what I sing on, what we write. The second it's me singing over top of it, all of a sudden it just reverts to sounding like our band which is interesting. I think a lot of people when they listen to music, they don't really listen to much else other than the vocals and then everything else is just an accompaniment. So a lot of people don't hear it as much, some of the layers and layers of experimental things we've done. They just hear my voice and then they say it sounds like every Silverstein record. So there will be people like that and then there'll be other people who hear an 808 or some kind of clap sample or anything like that we haven't done before instrumentation-wise and it's really going to freak them the fuck out. So, you know, we'll see what happens. But I thought “Infinite,” the first single, I thought that was one of the freakier songs which is part of why we went with it for the first single. And like everybody loved it. So, it's great when you can read YouTube comments and not want to kill yourself.

One song we found ourselves listening to over and over again is “Say Yes.” It's not your typical Silverstein song by any means and almost feels like “The Afterglow.” It's a great example of you guys exploring and expanding your sound.

I think so. That's another reason we feel so good about this record. We put out “Infinite” as the first single, “Bad Habits” as the second single and “Madness” will be the third single. So you know, it's crazy that before this record's out we've left off, in my opinion, maybe two of the strongest songs that work as singles which to me are “Where Are You” and “Say Yes.” So it's really cool to be able to have the label pick the singles and then leave out two of the songs that you thought were a hit. That's a good sign you have a strong record. So yeah, “Say Yes” is a funny one. And again, that's a great example of what I was talking about with my voice. Paul Marc [Rousseau] wrote that song and he sent it to me and he was singing lead on the demo. I remember hearing it in the car and going “Oh god, I don't think this is Silverstein. Like, I don't think this is us. I think this is too poppy.” Then of course, Paul [Koehler] played drums on it, beats the shit out of the drums. We get real fuzz bass on there and then when I sing it's like, “Oh yeah, this is kind of just like ‘Afterglow’ part two” or it's in that realm and it totally works. That was another thing in the studio we definitely were hyper-focused on of how do we make songs the best it can be and something that our fans are going to be like, “Fuck yeah, I can't wait to get to track eight” or whatever.

Talking about “The Afterglow” and how it helped open doors for songs like “Say Yes,” was there any hesitation writing and releasing that song on Dead Reflection?

You know, I think I did a little bit. I remember that being a demo we had and it was just, to me, it didn't really sound like Silverstein either. It was still really driving and really fast like, the tempo of it. To me, it was still kind of a punk song, you know? So I was like, “Okay, this is cool” and I just thought it was a great song. So we weren't sure what was going to happen. Again, that song wasn't released before the record came out. It wasn’t a single. It wasn't until the album came out that people started freaking out about the song when we were like, “Oh shit, we should probably maybe play this live” because we weren't playing it live either! So I'll never forget the first time we played it live was in Germany. We were doing this kind of underplay tour -- usually in Germany, bands play like four or five shows -- we played twenty. So we were driving like 25 minutes and playing a show in like in 500 cap rooms and we played that song for the first time and the place just exploded. We were like, “Oh, we have to play this every show. Like, we have to.” So we did and every time we play it, it's insane. Everyone goes crazy for this song. So it's interesting how you never know really until a record comes out and maybe “Say Yes” is going to do that again. Maybe it's going to be “Where Are You” or maybe I'm wrong and maybe I don't know. But I mean, it was the same thing with “My Heroine.” “My Heroine” almost didn't make the record. Like, the producer didn't like it, the band wasn't sure about it and I thought it was like the best song I'd ever written. Then the record came out, there was no talk of making a video for that song, no talk of it being a single, and then about two weeks after the record came out everyone's like, “Okay well, we better learn it.” I'll never forget Josh practicing that intro/clean guitar part in the dressing room over and over again because it's a hard part. That's again, that's a song, where would we be without it?

Wow, that's interesting. It must be cool 20 years later, you still have songs you're excited to experiment with and see what the fan’s reactions are going to be. So many bands in your position could just play it safe and put out songs like ones people have liked in the past. So to have that opportunity to give your fans something new and fresh is awesome.

Completely, man. That's the thing, we could write another -- I don't know, pick a song, “Smashed Into Pieces” -- like we could write [another] song like that. I could definitely go into my little home studio and I can bang out a demo right now and I think people would really, really like that. We're still capable of that but we also have eight albums that have done that. Eight albums that we really like and we still play. That's the side of our band we enjoy. We don't retire songs. Like, we just played our entire first record from start to finish last year. We did the tour and then we extended the tour. We did more shows and we loved every second of it. Some people love our old stuff, we love that style and we could do that. Maybe we will do that again or something but right now we're having so much fun experimenting with things, trying new stuff, collaborating with people. It's cool to see some of the people come out of the woodwork just being like, “Who is this band? What? They've been a band for 20 years? I've never heard of this band. This is amazing. I love it.” So it's cool to have that and I know our real fans still hear, like when you talked about “September 14th” or a song on the record like “Stop” or “Bad Habits” or the bridge on “Coming Down” is the most Silverstein emo -- like that could definitely be on Discovering The Waterfront, that part. So there's always going to be those things for our fans and we're never going to turn our back on our fans. Like, we're never going to stop playing our old songs or anything.

Lyrically, since a lot of Silverstein’s records have concepts around them, was there anything conceptual about A Beautiful Place To Drown?

Not intentionally. It's interesting because we didn't write the record like that. A lot of our past records have been written [where] we get all the music together and then it's kind of my job to put together a story, a concept, a bunch of lyrics, you know, whether it's This Is How The Wind Shifts or Shipwreck In The Sand or I'm Alive In Everything I Touch. Those records are all concept albums and they lean heavily on an idea and a concept but this record wasn’t written like that. If Shipwreck In The Sand is one concept, this record is 12 concepts. I think once we started putting all these songs together -- Paul Marc did a lot of the writing lyrically on this one -- we started to see some commonalities between the subject matter of the songs and how much it was about the current state of the world we live in and how things like politics and mental health and relationships and the way your phone seemingly controls your life, all of these things are really, really tying together. And there's so much progression and there are so many beautiful things happening out there in the world, like there really are, things are getting better and easier. But then why are so many people struggling and feeling so [bad] mentally? You know, why are so many people struggling? So that's kind of where I think the title came from, you know, with A Beautiful Place To Drown. There's a lot of water references in the band. I mean, we've always been a kind of water band so that just works for us and our whole M.O.

That's definitely a really interesting concept to think about. A lot of fans are really going to be able to, no pun intended, but dive into the record and kind of explore those themes.

Well, you know, I hope they cannonball into the record. Like Ron Burgundy style.

[Laughs] that's a good one. You know, we wouldn't have been surprised if you were to say, conceptually, the record is somehow about the Toronto Raptors winning the NBA Finals.

Well, what's the drowning? That Kawhi [Leonard] left?

Oh, possibly. That's a good point.

Well hey, [the Raptors] got what the second-best record in the NBA right now? They've won like 19 out of 20 games or something crazy. They're hot, man. Don't rule them out for a repeat. Everyone's rolling their eyes when I say that, but hey, the only team with a better record than them is the Bucks. Maybe the Lakers. It was exciting up here when the Raptors pulled it off. It was like nothing the city had ever seen before. I'm a huge Raptors fan. I'm wearing a Raptors hat right now.

Did any part of you want to put references to the Raptors or the championship in any of your songs?

You know, it's funny because Paul Marc, he's a hockey fan. He's a Montreal Canadiens fan. And with basketball, he's more of a newer basketball fan than I am. You know, I was rocking the Raptors in '95 even when they played in the huge baseball stadium. I've been a huge fan since the first season. So you know, once the Raptors started getting good, we started watching it together on the bus and talking more about the game. Then [Paul Marc] writes “Say Yes” and he writes the line about “I'm a half-court shot after the buzzers gone,” and I'm like, “Dude! You’re writing lyrics that I should be writing. Like, I'm the basketball guy here.” But now he's such a diehard Raptors and NBA fan, so it was cool that he came up with that line.

WATCH MORE:

[a-secondhand-sorrow]

Chapter 3: i’d hide and pray for the the thunder and the rain to quietly pass me by

And here’s chapter 3 of sweet words, brought to you straight from the hell zone that is my brain. This chapter is much shorter than the first 2, and it’s also thin on plot. This is mostly just me having Emotions about Heidi and Evan’s relationship.

a lot of this dialogue is from the musical so. it’s not mine. please don’t sue me.

chapter title from from “sweet child of mine” bc I’m completely sapped of creativity

read on ao3

prologue | chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 4

Trigger warnings: suicide mention

***

Evan slipped through the door, hoping to escape up to his room and give himself time to think over the evening before his mom got home.

Someone moved in the kitchen.

“Evan?”

Shit. He’d forgotten his mom was getting home early tonight-well, earlier then usual. He quickly swiped at his eyes, hoping that his face wasn’t too puffy.

“Yeah?” He called back, trying to keep his voice even.

Heidi came into the room, still in her scrubs, a hint of concern on her features.

“Didn’t you-didn’t you have class tonight?”

“It got cancelled.” Heidi frowned, clearly seeing through Evan’s attempts to hide the fact he’d cried for the whole walk home. “How about we sit for a minute, sweetheart?”

He really couldn’t say no to his mother, as much as he wanted to. And besides, he barely saw her anymore, not with her picking up extra shifts and taking night classes.

As he sat next to her on the couch, she cleared her throat a bit. “You know, I-I got an email from the school today. About a boy in your grade who killed himself? Connor Murphy?” Her tone was gentle, and slightly inquisitive. “Did you know him?”

Maybe, another night, he would have had the definitive way to respond. He didn’t want to worry her by admitting one of his only friends had killed himself, but he also didn’t think he could lie to her.

Especially not tonight.

“Well, I-we-I didn’t-”

“Evan, honey,” Heidi reached out, grasping his unhurt arm.

He didn’t realize he’d started weeping again.

Heidi’s eyes stared into his, probing him, yet she remained silent as Evan tried to pull himself together.

After a moment, in the same gentle tone, her hand still resting on Evan’s arm, she asked, “did you know him?”

All Evan could do was make a sort of hopeless noise in the back of his throat, trying to hide his face. He nodded, trying very hard to hold back another tirade of tears.

At the same time, Heidi must have caught sight of Connor’s name on Evan’s cast, because she suddenly blurted “oh, honey,” and pulled him into a tight hug, his face buried in her shoulder.

For the first time since he’d found out Connor was dead, Evan allowed himself to truly fall apart.

Between sobs, Evan attempted to choke out the story: how they were best friends until they had a falling out during the summer, and they had another altercation at school the day Connor killed himself. He’s not sure if Heidi understood any of it, but he does know that the words die on his tongue as another wave of memories hits him and Heidi soothingly whispers “shh, you’ll be okay, I’m here.”

After calming down a little, he said “I just... they asked me to come to dinner. To-to talk with them. About Connor.”

“Oh, Evan,” Heidi said, still rubbing circles on his back.

“That’s where I was.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Evan slowly shook his head.

“Maybe another time, then. Tonight’s not the night. Hey, how about I bag my shift next Tuesday? When’s the last time we did a taco Tuesday?”

“Oh, you don’t have to...”

“No, honey, you’ve already been back at school for a week and I feel like I’ve barely talked to you. We could talk about your dinner, or just how school’s going.”

“...yeah. I’d like that.”

“You know what else we could go over?” Heidi shifted a little awkwardly, it was obvious to Evan she wasn’t quite sure how to move forward. “Look what I found online today: college scholarship essay contests. Have you heard of these?” As she spoke, one arm still around his shoulders, she reached to the side table and picked up a stack of papers.

“I think so...”

“NPR did a whole thing on them this morning. There are a million different ones you can do. A million different topics. I spent my whole lunch break looking these up.”

“Wow.”

Noticing Evan’s quietness, Heidi, most likely in an attempt to cheer him up, said “college is going to be so great for you, honey. How many times in life do you get a chance to just... start all over again?”

“No, I know.”

“You’ve got so much, so many wonderful things ahead of you. High school isn’t always... well, the only people who like high school are cheerleaders and football players and those people all end up miserable anyway. Yeah, you’re gonna fun yourself in college. I really think so. I mean, I wish I could come with you, but...” during her spiel, she must have realized that Evan wasn’t really enthused. “I just thought these were...it seemed like a good idea.”

“It is. For sure.”

She shifted, putting the stack of papers down, moving to look more at his face. “You know that... if you ever, if you want to talk about anything...I realize that lately it must seem like, I’m always working or I’m in class-“

“It’s fine.”

“Well, I’m here. And if I’m not here, I’m a phone call away. Or text. Email. Whatever.”

“Yeah, I know.” There was a moment of silence, which Evan suddenly couldn’t handle. “I might just go to bed.”

Heidi frowned a bit, pushing a lock of hair back from his forehead. Her arm lossened a bit around his back. “Yeah, of course, sweetheart. I know you had a long day.”

Evan stood stiffly and trudged up the stairs to his bedroom slowly, flopping down into bed without changing his clothes.

Instead of drifting off to sleep, he replayed Cynthia’s crying face, Larry’s distant glance, Zoe’s stony features over and over in his head, all paired with that one perfect afternoon in the mostly-dead orchard.

[brightlighttm]

FULL NAME: caroline elizabeth forbes ALIAS: care, blondie, prisoner 307, caroline kom skaikru, caroline kom spacekru AGE/D.O.B: 17 - 149; october 10th, 2131 PARENTS: elizabeth 'liz’ forbes (deceased) & william ‘bill’ forbes (deceased) CRIME: caught with painkillers during a room sweep SKILLS: distraction, guns, knives & bow and arrow  POSITIVE TRAITS: optimistic, hard-working & loyal NEGATIVE TRAITS: neurotic, controlling & insecure

BACKGROUND INFO;;

liz was a guard and bill was a council member up until his drinking habits got out of hand and jaha forced him to step down. after this happened, liz took his spot and stayed there until the council ended.

growing up, caroline wasn’t around her parents a lot. both were extremely busy with their positions, but whenever she was lucky enough to be in the same room as her mom and dad, caroline would always be by her dad’s side. the two got along a lot better than she and liz did.

having a guard for her mother and a council member for a father, it was safe to say caroline grew up thinking she was better than most people her age and took pride in saying nothing bad would ever happen to her. however, it did.

at seventeen years old, during one of the many room sweeps, a guard found a bottle of painkillers hidden under caroline’s pillow. she denied stealing it and claimed that she’d never seen it before, but it didn’t matter. the guards took her away as she pleaded for her parents to help her. 

she was put in confinement and had no choice but to wait for six months to pass; when she’d turn eighteen and get floated for her crime. which she had not commited. little did caroline know that the pills were stolen by her father, who had started taking them after being kicked out of the council. he’d always gotten away with it, but on that particular day he wasn’t so lucky. so he had no choice but to hide his little orange plastic flask as quickly as possible. the hiding spot? under his daughter’s pillow. too afraid to say anything and get killed because of his crime, bill let the guards take caroline away, knowing she’d be safe for a few months while he’d try to change jaha’s mind.

he tried and tried, but instead of getting his daughter out of confinement, bill - not really knowing about any of it - managed to secure caroline’s spot as one of the hundred young prisoners who would be sent to the ground within a few days. 

SEASON ONE;;

she is shocked to find out about what happened to jasper and starts fearing the grounders and what they might do to her and everyone else if they attack their camp;

she only takes off her wristband when bellamy uses food as a way to get everyone to do as he says;

her dad sacrifices himself in the culling to guarantee liz’s and the other’s survival and make up for what he did to caroline;

caroline fights the grounders alongside the other delinquents and is inside the drop ship when the button that blasts the ship’s rockets is pushed and incinerates the grounders outside. which means she’s there when the mountain men throw gas grenades at their camp to make everyone - herself included - pass out.

SEASON TWO;;

she likes mount weather (mostly because her spoiled ass missed good food and a proper shower) but at the same time is extra suspcious of literally everything and everyone;

when she finds out clarke managed to escape, caroline feels a bit hurt but doesn’t really blame her for leaving everyone behind;

she decides to try and enjoy being in mount weather instead of overthinking everything 24/7, but then harper goes missing and she knows there’s something shady going on;

she doesn’t get drilled, but has to watch a lot of her friends being strapped down and having a thing thrusted into their backs. it’s not fun and it gives her nightmares for months; 

after everything is over and she - and everyone else - makes back to arkadia, caroline reunites with her mom. their happiness, however, doesn’t last long. liz tells her daughter that bill was the reason why she was put in confinement - and later got sent to the ground - and that he chose to sacrifice himself in the culling. caroline breaks down in tears while repeating, ‘i forgive you, daddy’.

SEASON THREE;;

caroline and liz work on improving their relationship. of course, they still butt heads every now and then, but that’s completely normal when you have caroline forbes for a daughter;

she doesn’t buy jaha’s city of light crap. at all. she thinks he ate one too many jobi nuts and is high as fuck;

but then other people start acting as weird as jaha - raven being one of them - and caroline knows, again, that there’s something shady going on;

in the end, caroline doesn’t take the chip, but liz does when jaha threatens her daughter. 

SEASON FOUR;;

‘radiation, seriously?!’ is the first thing that comes out of caroline’s mouth when she finds out about what a.l.i.e told clarke. but then again, should she even be surprised? ever since they came down, they barely had time to breathe before another bad thing happened;

when she hears through the grapevine that jaha might’ve found a bunker that will be able to save them all, she begs clarke to let her go with them. she mumbles something about ‘four people cover more ground then three’ until clarke gives up and lets her join;

her hopes are crushed when they make it into the bunker and find thousands of toasted skeletons, but, of course, she tries to hide it. puts on her best smile and goes back to the camp where she knows her friends and mom will be waiting;

when they finally find the right bunker, her hopes are renewed and she just knows they’ll make through yet another terrible thing tossed their way;

she asks - or rather, demands - clarke and bellamy to let her come with them to rescue raven. caroline had grown to love and admire the mechanic and there was no way she’d leave her behind. john and emori show up not long after and, together and with hazmat suits, the five of them leave to find their friend;

back in the bunker, much like david miller, liz writes caroline’s name in the lottery to make sure her daughter will have two chances of getting her name drawn. however, when unconscious arkadians start to be removed from the bunker by grounders and caroline still hasn’t returned, kane decides to give her spot to liz;

when clarke says they’re going back to the ark, caroline is shocked. she didn’t think she’d ever go back there, but if that was her only shot at surviving then so be it;

she says goodbye to her mom and tries to sound confident and happy even though she’s secretly afraid. she mumbles a heartfelt, ‘i love you, mom. may we meet again’ to liz before passing the radio to bellamy so he can say goodbye to octavia; 

caroline stays in becca’s lab to help raven, harper, emori and echo set everything up for their launch; 

she gets into the rocket with her heart racing and palms sweating. as the rocket launches, without clarke inside, caroline is in deep silence just like everyone else. expecting something bad to happen with the rocket or the death wave to get them. when nothing happens and they’re somewhat safe in space, tears start streaming down caroline’s face as it dawns on her: clarke is dead. 

SEASON FIVE;;

caroline spends 6 years in the ring with raven, bellamy, echo, emori, murphy, harper & monty. in the meantime, she grows closer to echo, who trains with her pretty much every day and teaches her how to use a bow and arrow - a really shitty one they put together with random scrapes they found laying around -;

when they finally manage to get down and reunite with the others, caroline get some devastating news: her mom has died. during the dark year, liz forbes refused to obey octavia and ended up with a bullet in her forehead. she blames octavia for her mom’s death and can’t stand being around her after she finds out;

at first, caroline finds the whole mom!clarke and madi thing really weird - not to mention clarke had been alive the whole time -, but comes around eventually. she gets a bit attached to madi, even if they don’t really spend that much time around each other; 

so when bellamy decides to put the flame on madi, caroline is extremely against it. no matter what the girl has witnessed or how strong she seems to be, she’s still just a child;

caroline marches with everyone else, not because she forgave the octavia but because she knows that’s her only shot at surviving and she wants to keep on living to make her mother proud;

when hell breaks loose at the valley, caroline manages to escape with some of the wonkru members and return to the dead zone. she tries helping niylah tend to the wounded, but she’s no doctor and fears that she might kill them faster than a gunshot. still, she keeps on trying because they’ve all come so far to die now; 

caroline almost doesn’t make it into the ship. she’s trying to support someone who’s injured pretty badly, which means running isn’t really happening for the two of them. however, when she sees everyone rushing inside the ginormous ship, hope blossoms within herself for the millionth time and that’s what fuels her to all but carry the woman she’s helping and lead both of them to safety;

she attends the meeting where they decide the fate of human race. like everyone else, caroline doesn’t like monty’s plan of using algae. she’s has enough of that thing to last a lifetime. so when raven and shaw suggest cryosleep, she’s quickly agrees. but, of course she knows that, ultimately, it’s up to madi. thankfully, the new heda also agrees and everyone starts getting ready to go to sleep;

before going into her chamber, caroline jokes with bellamy that, when she wakes up, she will be ‘the hottest 34-year-old in the ship’. she then proceeds to give him a quick hug before hopping on what’s going to be her bed for the next ten years. or so she thinks.

[i-am-perryshmirtzed]

What We Know About Murphy’s Law

I’m not going to even bother with an opening or ending, i’m going to fix this up later. I just need it all out of my drafts before the special.

Let’s get right to this!

Murphy’s Law is conscious

Let’s imagine Murphy’s Law as a sort of deity, shall we? It’s easiest to imagine when it it personified.

Murphy’s Law is a proud force. When its existence is disputed by Zack’s father in “Time Out” it turns its attention away from its primary targets, Milo and Martin. As Mr. Underwood disputes the Law’s existence time and time again, it just drags him through hell until he admits it. First his hat is tossed in the water by Milo, and torn to shreds by birds, and it is dismissed as “inexperienced casting”. Murphy’s Law then decides to kick it up a notch with the swordfish. Finally, it does  the whole pelican-eating-the-fish-bumping-into-the-side-of-the-boat-and-getting-a-box-of-bait-to-the-head-and-falling-into-the-water trick. That’s what convinces Mr. Underwood that Murphy’s Law is real.

And what should happen in the very next scene? Martin tries to start the motor and it breaks off of the boat. After getting its revenge on Mr. Underwood, Murphy’s Law is happy to go back to terrorizing Milo and Martin. After Mr. Underwood’s muttered acceptance of the Law being real, it immediately goes back to its original job. Murphy’s Law’s got a bit of attitude, doesn’t it? Reminds me of of a scene in Phineas and Ferb, actually. In the episode “Just Our Luck”, you’ll remember that Candace is hit by one of Heinz’s -inators and becomes lucky, while her brothers become unlucky. She taunts the boys as they get down from their project of the day, saying “Just take your time, it's not like the earth is gonna open up and swallow it!” moments later, the ray is destroyed and reversed, and Candace’s bad luck and the boys’ good luck returns. Perhaps the Mysterious Force was kept at bay by the stinklekrampen-inator, maybe it was the reason the -inator broke, but as soon as Candace was unlucky again, the earth split open and swallowed their structure. The Mysterious Force has a similar personality to Murphy’s Law. “You dare taunt me? Here you fucking go.” Both forces have an attitude and sense of irony. They have some sort of conscious and awareness of the situation at hand.

However, this can be entirely disproven by “Rooting for the Enemy”. If Murphy’s Law knew what was going on, why did it comply, and allow Milo’s plan to physically root for the Tigers when he wanted the Geckos to win? Did it just let this one thing slide? Or is it not as conscious as we think it may be?

Murphy’s Law hates whomever it inflicts having friends. There is a great meta about this by @allieinarden, analyzing Milo and Zack’s first meeting and what Murphy’s Law had to say about it. The same principle applies here. Just as Murphy’s Law gave Zack hell the first day he and Milo met, just like that girl got her arm broken by sitting next to Milo, just like Mort fell into a dumpster after attempting friendly conversation, just like Dakota’s pistachio cart was destroyed after he simply introduced himself, Murphy’s Law does its best in this episode to convince Mr. Underwood that it is real and to drive him away from Martin, just as Zack was made to be driven away from Milo. Perhaps it didn’t even notice that it was insulted.

Murphy’s Law can make mistakes

This is a very simple point. Murphy’s Law may have the unlimited power to wreak havoc in the Murphy Family’s life, but the fact remains that nobody, not even a semi-conscious force capable of laying waste to Swamp City, is perfect. Murphy’s Law makes mistakes.

The first that comes to mind is the pistachio stand in “The Doctor Zone Files”. The only noticeable Murphy’s Law incident that occurred on this day was the pistachio stand blowing up, just preventing the group from getting snacks. This goes back to Murphy’s Law being conscious- it’s battle strategy for that day was to do nothing, simply to fray on Sarah’s nerves. It must have decided to just trouble Milo a little by not letting him get the nuts to scare Sarah even more. It did not, however, notice/care/prevent the pistachio cart falling from the sky. Surprisingly enough, Murphy’s Law was fine with that.

That takes me to “The Note”. For one, when Melissa was stuck on the conveyor belt, Milo’s first attempt to save his friend went awry when the rope he was using to swing to her snapped. While trying to reach her, he accidentally knocks over a metal pole when he falls from a rising wooden board, and it jamms the shredder, allowing Melissa to escape. Murphy’s Law is weird in this scene, keeping Milo from rescuing Melissa, and at the same time helping her to escape.

The last thing I want to talk about here is “Athledecamathalon”, and Murphy’s Law in predicting the future.

In the end of the episode, Milo is the only contender for his team left in play. He gets to the final question- President Garfield’s blood type. We see the flashback- several times, he has been close to learning the answer, but he never got to actually hear it. Not being able to hear a teacher during a lecture, a power outage, and a nearby jump roping game going awry isn’t unusual for Milo. But the fact that he was interrupted just as he was about to learn the information is rather unnerving. Can Murphy’s Law predict the future? Did it want to make sure that he didn’t get the answer right by preventing the knowledge from reaching him for at least weeks, if not months ahead of time? Of course, Murphy’s Law made a mistake by allowing Melissa to mention the information. Murphy’s Law can make mistakes, yes, the the fact that it may be able to predict the future is much more unnerving.

Murphy’s Law will never kill Milo.

This time ‘round, let’s imagine it as a sort of parasite, shall we? A genetic, sentient parasite that exists to give bad luck to whomever is unlucky enough to have it passed on to them

This parasite wants to keep infecting. It wants to keep getting more victims to torture. But it won’t ever kill Milo.

It reminds me of how the River Phelgethon was potrayed in “House of Hades” from the Heros of Olympus series. It is stated that the River is not meant to heal. It keeps the dead intact so that they may endure more torture. It keeps you alive so that you may suffer more.

If Milo were to die, what would it be to him? He would be dead. It’s those around him who would suffer. “Your death is something that happens to everybody else. Your life is not your own….” (BBC Sherlock, The Lying Detective.)

Milo has to live, not only so he can continue being harassed by Murphy’s Law, but so he can have children who are also cursed. The parasite lives on.

The worst thing to happen to the Murphy men would be having to live though their loved ones’ deaths. So-Sara, Bridgette, Melissa, Amanda, Zack...I theorise that everyone Milo or Martin love will die before them, perhaps as a result of Murphy’s Law. I’ll remind you, that Zack would have been crushed by the concrete pipe had Milo not told him to move closer, that he was the one who had peanut butter stuck to his back when being chased by wolves, that the wolf and bees later nearly jumped on him, all in “Going the Extra Milo”. Not to mention that Murphy’s Law thoroughly enjoyed freaking Sarah out during “The Doctor Zone Files”, or that Melissa was trapped on the conveyor belt heading towards the paper shredder in “The Note”. Murphy’s Law doesn’t want to kill Milo- it just wants to torture him.

On that happy note, I’m going to wrap this baby up. I typed this all up in the past hour, and it’s getting pretty late. I’m going to do minimal editing now; I can always fix it up, fine tune, later. I needed to get this meta out of my system, and I want to put it out before anything can contradict it in the special. I’m on a short hiatus, until I find a place to watch Missing Milo, so...bye!

[toldnews-blog]

New Post has been published on https://toldnews.com/technology/entertainment/watch-larry-charles-on-his-new-comedy-docu-series/

WATCH: Larry Charles on his new comedy docu-series

Transcript for Larry Charles on his new comedy docu-series

Let me ask you a question, can you find humor when you’re living in a tragic or deadly situation? Because that’s what the comedy veteran who worked on classics “Seinfeld,” “Curb your enthusiasm” and “Borat” is finding out in his new Netflix docu-series, “The dangerous world of comedy.” Take a look. It’s a dangerous world filled with hate and violence and war, and amazingly enough, comedy. Could you make a living as a comic in Iraq? Helping people forget they live in a war zone. How do you break into comedy in Somalia? Brave people to make dangerous comedy. It’s therapy. Laughterhe stress. Risking their lives just to make people laugh. You said that. I didn’t say that. Comedians will save the world. Please welcome Larry Charles. Larry, so — Before we start, I think we should talk about the hair for one more piece. Don’t you think there’s a little more hair discussion to be had. Sure, go ahead. I have the same hair as trump actually. That really threw me. If I grow it out lono that, you’re saying I could look like him? Yeah, you could. You may need an extra hour in the morning. You need a lot of glue. It doesn’t stay down. A helicopter is a big problem. You need like wranglers, hair wranglers. So Larry, you’re already a comedy legend here in the states. Thank you. Yes, you are. For those three shows that I just mentioned. All great shows. All the funniest shows W had here. What would possess you to go to these dangerous places? I went to Mogadishu and Somalia. A lot of things. It was a culmination of a lot of things that were going on. One of them was trump. I grew up in trump village in Brooklyn. Where is that? At the end of coney island and Brighton beach. I grew up there. I never heard of it. Where? Williamsburg. When he was elected this isolationism creeping in and I thought we don’t know anything about the rest of the world and now we’re going to know even less. I’ve had the good fortune to travel over the world doing the boat movies and things like that. Every place I had been to there were comedians. I would be in Jordan for instance and there would be a stand-up club in Jordan and all these places. So I started to Google just out of curiosity the most crazy, dangerous places in the world and comedy. No matter what I put in, no matter what I googled, there were always comedians. Somalia has comedians. I thought, they’re there, they’re living there, how do they do it? I knew myself I get to leave these countries, these oppressive regimes, come home, get the accolades, get the rewards, they’re stuck there. How do they live under those oppressive regimes and practice their comedy. That’s the series. The stakes of that was so different than the stakes we have here and I thought I have to go pursue that. It’s fascinating. My husband and I watched it and loved it. Some people might assume that comedy doesn’t exist in a place like war-torn Iraq of course but you’ve said that even under oppressive regimes, there were comedians there risking their lives, risking their lives. Yes, litly. Why would they do that? What did they say? Comedy in these other countries like a calling, like a religious calling. They feel they have a need to reach their audience and help them, help heal, help inform because these like the women from Saudi Arabia, they have to use social media to bypass the mainstream media to get their message out and wind up reaching millions of people that way. They have a very important message through the humor and the humor is sometimes used to inform and sometimes used to heal. Do they at least — are they careful about attacking the people in charge who might go after them? Are they careful? We’re not here obviously. In some countries — So far. In some countries there’s more caution. It depends on the individual. There’s a very courageous comedian in Iraq who hosts the Iraqi version of the Daily Show. It’s very anti-government and very anti-isis. He’s got both of them out to get him. He is not afraid. Most of the Iraqi comedians are prepared to be martyrs if it means they will eventually heal the wounds of Iraq. They want Iraq to be a country again. That’s what their desire is. So they’re willing to risk their lives for that. For freedom and the freedom of speech that we have in this country. Yes, yes. Amazing. Exactly. So I understand — I love this concept and I think it’s really fascinating and I understand comedy being used as a survival mechanism in bleak circumstances. Just me in my life, I completely understand it. But you did ask a member of ISIS what they laugh about. I hate ISIS. With all due respect, what should I care what a terrorist finds funny? He was a prisoner at that time wearing cuffs. I also talked to an Al shabaab terrorist who was defected. We can put everyone who does bad things to death, put them away and never hear from them and we’ll never understand, I think, and that’s the risk that we take. To me, the terrorism we know about is the end result of terrorism. We don’t know what really brings people to that point, you know. We’re talking about people whose countries are under attack from the time they’re children, so I thought it would be interesting to talk to people like that to find out how they reach that, and was there ever a moment where humor might have changed things. Al Bashir in Iraq talks a lot about how he has convinced people not to join ISIS through his humor. Do they find American humor funny? Do they ever reference that? All the countries I went to are addicted — western humor is the foundation everywhere. Everybody knows Eddie Murphy, Dave Chappelle. It’s amazing. That’s why I thought we should know them better. I love what you’re doing because we’ve gotten to this point in our country that we can’t even have a comic at the white house correspondents dinner. A lot of political correctness here. I have to go, I’m afraid but I’m sorry. I could talk to you — Yeah. Come back. I’d be happy to come back. I’m not even sure if you could do boat now. That’s correct. It would be a different movie now. Our thanks to Larry Charles. His dangerous world of comedy is streaming on Netflix now. Watch it.

This transcript has been automatically generated and may not be 100% accurate.

[wiz-witch]

Dakota’s Experience

Hello, tumblr of the future! Through mystical time travel shenanigans, I am writing this a whole two days before I post it–namely trying to figure out how to schedule a post.

Whatever, let’s just get started with this.

(Thank you @laneypenn for the screencaps and for providing me extra so I could have a bit more fun with it)

So as in “Smooth Operator” and “The Doctor Zone Files”, Milo decides that pistachios would be a great treat for his activity, though unlike those two incidences, he gets his dang pistachios, along with a nice conversation with Dakota about how they’ve seen each other before. However, this conversation is where things get…interesting

Namely the end of the conversation:

Of course, he only gets a couple seconds to think about this “coincidence” before a swordfish shows up ^^ Ah Murphy’s Law. Thing is, he clearly is making connections here–two of their most disastrous missions, and that kid was there.

Even when he’s in the middle of a conversation with Cavendish about their new assignment, he’s thinking about how Milo seems to be there whenever something goes wrong–while only the opera and the movie premiere were mentioned, Dakota may be kinda mentally going through all of their missions where Milo showed up and things went wrong. Now as viewers, we can just be like “Oh, it’s Murphy’s Law, of course he’s causing problems–he’s not trying to, though”, Dakota doesn’t know about Milo’s condition (at least we have no reason to believe he does), so it would be a stretch to connect this random middle schooler to these freak accidents, and while Dakota does pass it off as a coincidence, he still holds on to it. More on this, we’re gonna move on to their reactions to the new mission

Yes, Balthazar, that’s a very ambitious goal.

…I may not have had the best grade in history, but…

(I love Cavendish’s “Dakota, please stop being an idiot” look)

Huh, so Dakota’s done time travel stuff without Cavendish? Interesting…But you know what’s even more interesting? Not only did Dakota happen to know that other time travelers were in the vicinity, but he also expected them to help him and Cavendish despite the two of them…not exactly being high up in the ranks.

Oh yeah, and there’s this:

You cannot convince me that these two don’t have any sort of history with each other, and this scene is why: Dakota did his little “you’re welcome” when asked about the Mississippi/Louisiana purchase, and Savannah does the same thing when asked about WWII and WWIV. Could be written off as a coincidence if it wasn’t for two little details: one, Dakota does a bit of an “I see what you did there” when she says that, and she has this slight grin while speaking (grin goes away when she closes her mouth) as if she knows that it’s something Dakota does, too, and is kinda teasing him a bit. Maybe she picked it up from him or is explicitly doing it as a slight tease.

(Now why do I say Dakota’s the one who does it usually? Namely because of their reactions–if it was a Savannah thing initially, she wouldn’t have been grinning at him when saying it and I doubt he would’ve been as amused)

Again with the “Dakota please stop” look.

And Dakota’s face here is the face of someone who knows that things are gonna go bad soon.

So…time for the headcanon part of the post ^^’

(obligatory reminder that part of this is speculation–take it all with a grain of salt)

Dakota’s been time traveling longer than Cavendish has–that’s part of why he has a majorly nonchalant attitude towards the whole thing (in addition to it being his personality) and why he sometimes seems to be a bit more knowledgeable about their time periods (being the one to figure out when they are in “The Substitute”, and Cavendish didn’t realize he was dressed like he was from the 1800s in “Time Out”). Of course, it’s implied that their agency pairs up all their agents, so that would mean that Dakota had a partner before he started working with Cavendish.

In the magical world of my headcanons, this partner was Savannah. The two of them worked together to prevent the Mississippi purchase among other things, and actually were fairly close, which is why Dakota knew Savannah at least would help him and Cavendish. So what happened?

The Bureau got a new agent, and Dakota couldn’t help but notice how Savannah seemed interested in working with him (Brick). So Dakota went to Mr. Block and stepped down as an agent, and suggested Brick as a new partner for Savannah. Unfortunately, he didn’t tell Savannah about this beforehand–she just knows he left her, which has kinda left her slightly bitter towards Dakota, but still willing to helping him out if he needs it.

Meanwhile Cavendish is becoming fixated on Milo, a middle schooler who Dakota brought to his attention. If anything happens as a result, I’m sure Dakota’s gonna have some guilt. Of course, I already have a couple fics planned for this.

Let me know if you have anything you wanna add or need me to clarify–I know I was a mess.

[themurphyzone]

His World: Fandom

Request from @universe-queen-melissa. 

1. Crisis on the Seven Seas! S.S Mummy’s Curse vs S.S Neon Lights!

“Your primitive weapons are no match for my superior blasters!”

“I summon a demon to jinx your blasters so they only shoot jelly!” 

“Neon Lights shall rise again! We may be few in number, but we shall prevail against the tragedy that is Cleopatra’s personality!”

“Mummy’s Curse is the true winner! We actually have hints on our side! All Danielle ever does is complain about her dysfunctional family!” 

“Danielle risked her life to save Time Ape from the evil clutches of Professor Yorek! And she did it with a broken leg and armed with only a taser!” 

“Cleopatra had a duty to her people! Her intellect is matched by only the Man of the Past, Present, and Future!” 

“Sara, Milo, I’m getting take out from that new Mexican place that opened up downtown. Is there anything you two would like?” Brigitte carefully stepped over the mess in the living room, grabbing her car keys from a table. Sara and Milo paused to allow her through. 

“Extra spicy salsa please!” Sara said. 

“A side of black beans too,” Milo added. 

“Okay, I’ll be back in half an hour and Martin should be home in-wait, is that my eyeliner?” Brigitte took a closer look at Milo’s face. 

“I wanted to get into character,” Milo replied. “It’s kohl.” 

“Looks like a good make up job,” Brigitte said. “Just promise me you’ll clean all this up when Martin gets home. You know Murphy’s Law flares up when he’s extra exhausted.” She waved, exiting through the garage door. 

Sara stood up, dropping the catcher’s helmet she was using as a mask. “And this concludes our monthly ship war. Let’s see, four tallies for Mummy’s Curse, four for Neon Lights, and ten for draw.” 

“Stay tuned for March’s ship war, folks! An episode premiering in two weeks is going to give Mummy’s Curse extra ammunition!” 

2. Fan Mail

“Let’s see, bill, bill, fan mail, fan mail, coupon for fast food, another letter from ol’ Blockhead-this one should be fun, fan mail, bill.” Orton set everything down on the kitchen table, pouring himself a cup of coffee before setting aside the bills. 

The first two pieces of fan mail weren’t that interesting, one of them consisting of a rant about how Adjunct Faculty Member Zone was the worst thing that had ever happened to the series. It wasn’t his proudest moment, but the college students used as extras for that series made the work a lot more pleasant than most people assumed. 

Ah, the third piece is from Sara Murphy, Orton smiled. He had a wall on his bedroom where he pinned his favorite artwork and letters from his fans. Sara Murphy had five of her letters up there so far, and several more stashed away in a box in the attic. He updated the wall every few weeks, preserving older pieces in a scrapbook. 

He decided to save it for last, since he would likely need some positivity after inevitably choking on Block. 

Dear Orton Mahlson, 

Consider joining the Bureau or else. I have the operatives and technology. All you have is your silly, inaccurate prime-time sitcom that undermines the potential of real time travel and mocks our scientists to no end. We will hunt you down if you continue to refuse this offer.

Sincerely,

Mr. Block.

Orton slammed a pen on the table, deciding that his response wasn’t worth killing a few trees and furiously wrote a response on the back of the same paper. That was sure to tick him off. 

What’s up Blockhead,

You’re looking about as handsome as a donkey who wallowed in a peat bog. I take that back. I refuse to insult donkeys when they actually do a great service for people around the globe. I will repeat this for the millionth time. I am not joining your ridiculous organization. For what purpose does it actually serve? Or are you just upset because you got all nostalgic for a bunch of nuts that went extinct? Boo-hoo. Cry me a river. Maybe you can finally replace the Nile. Oh, wait that would just cause more pollution wouldn’t it? 

-Orton Mahlson

He zapped the paper with his own Temporal Transporter. Amateurs. His version had a streaming option for new releases. 

Now he could finally read Sara’s letter in peace. Maybe this would snap him out of the funk Block always threw him in.

Dear Orton Mahlson,

I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned how much Dr. Zone means to me and especially my little brother, Milo. You see, Milo has a certain condition which causes people to treat him differently. Sometimes it’s easy to shrug off. Other times it’s not. It was more difficult back then, before Milo was old enough to handle situations on his own. As his big sis, it’s my job to look out for him. Since we first discovered Dr. Zone, it opened up a lot more opportunities to spend time together as siblings and we’re always look forward to new episodes. Thank you for such a wonderful show!

Your biggest fan,

Sara Murphy

Orton had a new favorite letter now. And there was no better honor for his biggest fan than a spot on the refrigerator. 

3. Contagious

Milo stopped scratching Diogee’s belly, listening to Sara groan from her bedroom. Diogee whined and pawed at Milo’s hand, unhappy that his belly rub time was cut short. “Sorry, boy,” Milo said, knocking on her door. “Something’s wrong. Sara, can I come in please? Are you all right?” 

“Coming,” Sara opened her door, looking unusually cross. She was still in her pajamas, and her empty stomach probably wasn’t doing her any favors either. “Hey.”

“Are you sick? You skipped breakfast,” Milo noticed. 

“I’m sick all right. I caught the dreaded-Milo, you can take the mask off. It’s not contagious. I think. I just have a really bad case of Writer’s Block.” 

Milo tied a mask on Diogee. “I don’t want him getting it either,” he said, his voice muffled. 

“I uploaded Chapter 17 of my shipping fic three weeks ago, and I’ve been trying to finish the confrontation between Professor Yorek and Danielle, but writing about infiltrating a secret, heavily-guarded facility is harder than it sounds,” Sara opened the document containing the half-finished chapter, letting Milo quickly skim through it. 

“Have you tried imagining it in your head?” Milo asked. 

Sara shook her head. “No, I just type what comes to mind.” 

“Okay, how about we try this?” Milo set a Time Ape doll on the windowsill, placing a plastic container around it to act as a cage. “Professor Yorek has captured Time Ape and is holding him for ransom until Dr. Zone arrives with the loot from the Titanic? Right?” Sara nodded. Milo placed a Professor Yorek action figure on top of the plastic container. “But it’s all a front to distract Dr. Zone?” 

“And Danielle is torn because she was childhood friends with Yorek and watched him change after his obsession with the time stream grew. I don’t know how to properly convey that and have her infiltrate the facility at the same time.”

“But she also loves Dr. Zone now, so that makes it even more difficult,” Milo mused. He placed a crocheted doll of Danielle next to Professor Yorek, positioning them so they were holding hands. “What if she had little reminders on her way? Remember the episode “Instrument of Sorrow” where Danielle had a flashback of her playing the glockenspiel with Yorek and he taught her his family’s song?” 

Sara nodded. “A musical reminder is always good. If I play that song while writing that particular part, it would probably help a whole lot. There was also the episode “Spider Lily” in which spiders were used to symbolize Yorek’s growing darkness. And Danielle has arachnophobia in canon, so that would absolutely terrify her once she snaps to reality when she realizes there’s a horde of man-eating spiders in the vents!” 

“See you’ve got it!” Milo took off his mask. Diogee had long discarded his, using it as a chew toy instead. “But maybe you shouldn’t write on an empty stomach. Studies prove you think better after you’ve had breakfast!” 

Sara laughed. “You’re right, little bro. I’m totally going to crush my readers’ spirit after this chapter!” 

“That’s great! Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to finish my fanfic too,” Milo sat down at the computer in his room, opening the document, fingers poised to type. And he waited. And waited. 

After ten minutes, Milo had resorted to trying to balance his pencil on his nose in an attempt to think. His eyes widened. He was right. He was right all along. 

“Sara, you lied to me! Writer’s Block is contagious!”

[thrashermaxey]

Ramblings: Chabot and Kapanen Injured; Update on Lehner; Sprong; Mrazek; Gallagher; Werenski – March 14

  One big injury update from Wednesday was that Ottawa star defenceman Thomas Chabot has been diagnosed with a broken toe and is week-to-week. The team has 12 games left and were this any other organization, I would say that rushing back the franchise cornerstone player from a broken bone in a completely lost season so he can suit up with an AHL roster isn’t possible. But this is Ottawa, so whatever the worst possible option is, it’s definitely on the table.

Meanwhile, Cody Ceci and Dylan Demelo are going to get as much ice time as they can handle. Just be wary in leagues counting plus/minus.

*

Kasperi Kapanen missed Toronto’s last game, being scratched late in the day. Word came from the team today that Kapanen has been diagnosed with a concussion and, as with all concussions, there is no timeline for return.

Kapanen had been enjoying a breakout season with 19 goals and 42 points in 68 games.

This would be the time to run to the waiver wire and grab William Nylander if he’s available. He’s widely owned on ESPN but is still available in over half of Yahoo! leagues. We’d like him to have those top PP minutes but getting secondary time while skating on a line with Auston Matthews is too good to pass up.

*

Good news for the Minnesota Wild and their fans (and fantasy owners) as Matt Dumba was skating on his own before practice on Wednesday. He’s recovering from surgery on a pectoral muscle and we still don’t know when, or if, he’ll be back this season.

For more good news, Luke Kunin was also skating for the Wild. He should return to the team in short order.

*

The Islanders are expecting Robin Lehner to return to the crease very soon for the team. Word is he could even start Thursday night, though Barry Trotz wouldn’t full commit to that. It seems he should return on Saturday night on the road.

*

Gary Bettman upheld the two-game suspension of Flyers forward Jakub Voracek. The winger had appealed his suspension, hoping to get it reduced to just a single contest. He will be out for Thursday night’s game against Washington but will be available for Friday night’s matchup in Toronto. In the meantime, expect the Flyers lines to stay the same, which means Nolan Patrick centering the second line.

*

St. Louis starts a three-game Eastern swing on Thursday night in Ottawa and will be joined on the trip by David Perron. Whether he plays or not is another matter entirely as he continues to recover from his latest concussion. That he’s on the trip at all is a good sign, though. Let’s just hope these issues don’t linger for him.

*

Just want to say that I’m really, really excited for the potential second round matchups in the West. Two of Calgary/San Jose/Vegas in one matchup and potentially a Nashville/Winnipeg redux in the other? Oh yeah, sign me up.

*

It’s probably worth noting that Daniel Sprong is on a three-game goal scoring streak for the Ducks. In 37 games with Anaheim, the 21-year old winger has 12 goals while playing just 13:31 per game. He’s also shooting a very reasonable 14.3 percent in the meantime. He has a very healthy 15.9 shot attempts per 60 minutes at five-on-five and while his five-on-five shooting percentage is a bit high, it’s nothing some additional ice time next year can’t help offset. It’s still just 37 games but considering the awful scoring environment of the Ducks, it’s impressive. It at least gives hope that he can be the 25-goal scorer a lot of people expected him to be. He’s a name to keep in mind for deeper leagues next year.

One player heating up for the Ducks? Jakob Silfverberg. You can look at hot/cold trends on Dobber Tools here.

*

Speaking of hot streaks, Petr Mrazek has been one of the most valuable goalies in fantasy over the last month. It’s helped boost his overall save percentage to .908, just behind names like Pekka Rinne, Braden Holtby, and Connor Hellebuyck. He doesn’t need to be a .940 goalie for the Hurricanes to win games, but even if he can just be league average it’ll be a huge boost to the team. His recent play has likely earned him a contract next year.

With Scott Darling buried, Curtis McElhinney also on a one-year deal, and Alex Nedeljkovic not earning the trust of the franchise yet, there’s a pretty clear path for Mrazek to be at least the 1A or 1B goalie for the Hurricanes in 2019-20. They’re one of the best young teams in the NHL and only getting better. Mrazek’s fantasy outlook is a lot brighter than it was before the All-Star break.

*

I shut off the Blackhawks-Leafs game off when Chicago made it 5-0 midway through the second period. At that point, Brendan Perlini had three points (1-2), Alex DeBrincat had a goal, Dylan Strome had two assists, and Brandon Saad had one of each. I had to turn it back on when it got to 5-3 but Chicago managed to skate away with the 5-4 victory.The win brings Chicago within four points of the final wildcard in the West.

Corey Crawford left after the second period with an illness, and Collin Delia faced 30 shots in the final frame alone.

Not for nothing, but the Blackhawks have been much better of late. The team is mid-pack in shot share since the All-Star break where they had been toiling at the bottom of the league through the first half of the season. They’re not a great team, but they’re much better than they were three months ago.

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Update on the late games in the morning.

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You know who doesn’t get the respect he deserves? Brendan Gallagher. Here are his ranks league-wide among 262 forwards with 2000+ minutes at five-on-five since the start of the 2016-17 season:

Goals/60 minutes – 9th

Points/60 minutes – T-49th with James van Riemsdyk, Jonathan Marchessault, Nino Niederreiter, Patrice Bergeron, and Blake Wheeler

Primary Points/60 minutes – T-35th with Jason Zucker, Mark Scheifele, Logan Couture, and Taylor Hall

Relative adjusted shot share: 9th sandwiched between Matt Barzal and Matthew Tkachuk

Relative goal share: 61st sandwiched between Marchessault and Jeff Skinner

Relative expected goal share impact: 11th between Zucker and Gustav Nyquist

No matter what way this is cut or sliced, Gallagher is a top line winger. He now has back-to-back 30-goal seasons and he’s done so while earning less ice time per game this year (16:27) than he did four years ago (16:35 in 2014-15). Imagine the level of fantasy performance he could give in everything from points to shots to hits if he were playing 18-19 minutes a night. There’s the question of optimizing ice time levels for performance but I have to imagine he can handle an extra minute or two per night.

I really do hope that Gallagher earns that extra ice time at some point. He is very much capable of achieving the level of production of, say, Matthew Tkachuk were he earning a minute or two extra per night and (hopefully) a very good young centre in Jesperi Kotkaniemi. There are a lot of bridges to cross before we get there so maybe we never do. All the same, even with just 16:30 per night, Gallagher is one of the most valuable skaters in multi-cat leagues.

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Lost in that 11-goal game between Boston and Columbus a couple nights ago was Zach Werenski’s four-point game. Those four points pushed Werenski past the 120-point mark for his career. Why is that important? Well:

  The only defencemen this century with 120+ points in their age 19-21 seasons: Erik Karlsson (149) Drew Doughty (126) Zach Werenski (124 and counting) https://t.co/o4rKg6Uqe5

— Michael Clifford (@SlimCliffy) March 13, 2019

  Let’s look at this from another angle:

  The only defencemen to ever crack 10 goals and 20 assists in each of their age-19, 20, and 21 seasons: Orr Bourque Murphy Stevens Housley Werenskihttps://t.co/m3NV3jE5CI

— Michael Clifford (@SlimCliffy) March 13, 2019

  Sometimes it’s easy to forget that Werenski is still just 21 years old. At this point he feels like a veteran player and yet he’s still younger than Thomas Chabot (yes, really). Werenski is the youngest defenceman in the NHL with 40 points this season, and it’s the second time in his career he’s cracked 40 points, the first time being two years ago. It doesn’t matter how it’s cut or sliced, what Werenski is accomplishing is quite literally historic.

Let’s run a quick comparison, shall we?

Below is how Werenski compares to Karlsson over the last three years in things like zone entries, zone exits, shot assists (passes leading to shots), and individual shots. We can see that Werenski lags behind Karlsson a little in most categories, but they’re close:

  It’s important to keep in mind that these are Karlsson’s prime years while Werenski is still a few years away from his. If this is how the Blue Jackets blue liner performs before he hits his prime, what will he look like in, say, 2021-22?

He’s just starting to scratch the surface. Werenski has lost power play time to Seth Jones over the last couple seasons despite the fact that the Jackets have typically scored much more with Werenski on the ice for power plays than Jones. That includes when splitting their time on the top unit; the Jackets score much more with Cam Atkinson and Werenski on the ice than Cam Atkinson and Jones. For a team that’s struggled so mightily with the power play over the last three years, you’d think they would favour the defenceman who’s been on the ice for more PP goals per minute, but I digress.

What makes Werenski so fascinating from a fantasy perspective is, as mentioned above, really just starting to find his footing in the NHL. He’s also producing at these elite levels despite not getting massive amount of ice time; unlike, say, Rasmus Ristolainen, the Columbus rearguard is not a product of simply being stuffed with 26 minutes a night. He’s doing everything we want to see at a micro level to produce like a top fantasy option at the macro level.

It’s only fair to wonder what his production will look like once he A) hits his prime and, B) gets a boatload of minutes including top PP time. He’s firmly in the group of elite young defencemen in the NHL like Chabot, Heiskanen, and Dahlin, and that group will dominate the Norris conversation from 2021 and beyond.

Now would be the time to inquire on Werenski’s price in a trade. If he can be acquired as a 40-point defenceman, I think there is a lot of profit to be had in the years to come.

from All About Sports https://dobberhockey.com/hockey-rambling/ramblings-chabot-and-kapanen-injured-update-on-lehner-sprong-mrazek-gallagher-werenski-march-14/

[beauticate]

Myra Perez, Floral Designer

As one of Sydney’s most in demand creative florists for the last fifteen years, My Violet’s Myra Perez is used to 4am starts and some seriously long days. She generously took us through her favourite products for looking rested when you’ve had no sleep, shared how to actually get said sleep when your brain just won’t turn off and the undeniable power of an eyelash perm.

When I was 21 I had a corporate job and would walk past a particular florist on my way to work every day. It sparked an interest for me, because to be honest I didn’t know what I wanted to do until then. I just knew it had to be creative and that I couldn’t be sitting in an office all day.

This florist was kind enough to answer all the questions that I bombarded her with and encouraged me to do a floristry course to discover if it was really something I loved. Before I knew it, I had enrolled myself into a floristry course at TAFE, enjoyed it so much that I signed up for Certification II, got work experience at one Sydney’s leading florists and the rest, as they say, is history. All this time later, the thing I still love most about my job is seeing how happy flowers make others. The smiles and positive feedback from clients gives me amazing energy and keeps me going.

I love makeup and always have… in fact, once upon a time I was actually very good at it. However in my current line of work I have early starts and I would rather get that extra sleep than be up to do my makeup.

These days my focus is on having great, blemish free skin at 5am. Skin care has definitely become more essential than make up. I like a natural, fuss-free look, day to day.

My daily beauty routine starts at 4am.

After a quick shower to wake myself up, I apply the first half of the Rationale Essential Six, The Immunologist Serum and Super Antioxidant Serum. I love the Immunologist UltraCreme, it’s so good and leaves my skin feeling really hydrated. Then I’ll apply my Rationale Superfluid SPF50. A few years ago I got sunburnt so badly that my face got swollen, and since then I’ve always applied SPF50+ without fail, and will wear a cap or hat if possible. We often work out in the elements so sun protection is essential for me. Finally, I mix up a glass of water with 15ml of Collagen Inner Beauty Boost from The Beauty Chef, and then I’m out the door, in the van and off to market.

If it’s been a long day I’ll pop on some eye gels for a little extra collagen boost to help my tired eyes out.

Currently I’m obsessed with Skyn Iceland Hydro Cool Firming Eye Gels from Mecca.

I cleanse with the Rationale Pro Ceramide Cleanser followed by their Catalyst Serum and DNA Night Cream.

To help me get a good night’s sleep I take The Beauty Chef’s Sleep Inner Beauty Powder. I’m constantly on the go and find it really hard to switch off, as often I’m up late planning the next day, so I find this tonic helps me fall into a deep sleep. A must have for those who can’t close their eyes at night.

My must have for a night out is a red lip and lots of lashes.

If I’m going for a true matte my favourite is MAC Ruby Woo or if I want a slightly glossier red it’s Chanel Rouge Allure Velvet in 39, La Somptueuse (Ed. note: discontinued). I’m hopeless with applying falsies so I prefer to get mine professionally curled (Kristin Fisher Eyebrows do my eyelash perms and I’ve never looked back!) then once I apply two coats of Diorshow Iconic Overcurl Mascara and I’m good to go!

If I have time, I’ll do something fun with eyeshadow as I’m a huge fan of it.

My girlfriend Tobi Henney, who is an Australian makeup artist based in NYC, taught me how to do a subtle smokey eye. First, I use a natural colour that compliments my dark skin, like a bronze gold (I’m currently using Burberry Eye Colour Wet & Dry Glow Shadow in 002 Nude). Then I go in with a darker, chocolate shade and, using a small brush , dab a hint in the corners and around the eye socket, with the eye closed. A cat eye is also a really nice look - I love Dior’s Precision Eyeliner in black, as it’s like a felt pen and so easy to use!

Growing up I wasn’t allowed to use makeup. I think lip gloss was the only thing I owned till I got to ninth grade and then I was allowed to use mascara.

My mother had bad acne as a child so she wasn’t keen on my covering up my skin, plus growing up in El Salvador beauty regimes were the last thing people focused on. She still did her best to take care of herself and in return educated me on what not to do. I have a memory of her slapping my hands whenever I got the urge to touch my face or rest my face in my hands. She would say, “your hands have been touching too many things!” She would often make honey masks or use another natural remedy if I had a break out. 

I have really thick hair so I get it cut every 6 weeks to take the weight out.

I’ve recently gone from balayage to all over glossy dark, and it’s much healthier and easier to maintain.  I’m probably not supposed to but I wash my hair daily as I always find it’s sticky and full of pollen dust. I like Kevin Murphy Angel.Wash, it smells amazing and seems quite gentle on my hair. 

I am obsessed with sneakers and have a big, colourful variety in my wardrobe. My latest lolly pink Adidas trainers are a current fave and on high rotation.

I just celebrated my fortieth birthday and wore a bright red tulle Alice McCall skirt and plain tee, dressed up with some velvet Senso heels. I have lots of Viktoria Woods and Camilla & Marc in my wardrobe… I cant help myself! It’s the same with designer bags. I seem to spend money on cross body bags I can rock to the markets or out to dinner with my husband Baz.

My line of work is demanding - the hours are brutal and to be honest no one ever believes just how hard it is to be a florist.

Your hands get pretty overworked and so does my overactive mind! So I find that I feel the most beautiful when I’m not in peak season. I tend to get more sleep, take time out and really just slow right down. That’s when I look and feel my best. 

I attend Pilates as much as I can, ideally multiple times a week. Fluidform Pilates in Wooloomooloo has changed my life. Its exhausting but worth it.

A client of mine insisted that Fluidform changed her life and that it would change mine too. I had never tried it and didn’t know much about it but I trusted her and thought, why not? Although most sessions I’m cursing my instructor Dannielle on the inside because I’m in pain and sweating bullets, it’s a good pain. Plus that whole hour of no phones, no noise, and instead just focusing on my breathing and a particular move is major chill out time for me. I love it and am completely hooked.

My favourite spas for facials are Rationale and All Saints Clinic. I’m an avid Rationale addict so will never miss my monthly facial, as it always makes me feel like a million bucks when I walk out. 

I'm also currently loving Sensory Deprivation Therapy at the Float Factory in Glebe. It takes me to a seriously chilled out zone and I walk out as though I'm floating on clouds.  I try to take care of my body with regular massages and my Pilates sessions. 

When I was younger I used to think 25 was so old.

Then I thought 30 was even older and dreaded that I would be grey, haha! Now at 40 I’m not at all fazed by getting older – it’s a natural part of life which I embrace.

I’m not a fan of seeing girls younger than me messing with their faces. There’s so much time ahead of them and the constant desire to be so perfect is such a worry. Once they’re older and look back at their younger selves, I'm sure they'd think about it differently. 

As I get older, I’ve realised it’s so important to take the time to just slow down, chill out and get a good nights sleep.

It’s harder to shift excess weight and keep glowing skin when you are not allowing your body to stop and rejuvinate, as it constantly thinks it’s in ‘fight’ mode. So I have to put down my phone, put away my diary and get some proper rest.

Story by Zoe Briggs. Photography by Amy Hibbard.