#brooklin nine nine

[beegomess]

ILOVE YOU MATHEO FANFICS!!! And your Theo ones omg they're so cute and make me smile every time I see them!! Could you do something like this? If you want to of course!

It's like in Brookline nine nine where Jake and Amy have that bet where whoever gets the most arrests by the end of the year get to make the other do whatever they want.

• what if Matty boy or Theo (ether is good Matty would be my pick tho! Or if you like the prompt you could do one for each <3 ) and the reader had a bet about who could get the best marks on a test or something like that.

• And he wins and they make you go on "the worst date ever"

• like Jake made Amy in BNN. But like Jake that's when he realize his feelings for the reader.

Supper fluffy and cute!! Rivals/friends to lovers !

Love ya!!

M.R. || Real love baby

Summary: When a boy pulls a girl's hair, it usually means something more than he actually admits. Warnings: none. A/N: This came out faster than usual because I simply LOVE Jake and Amy. I really hope it met your expectations, I'm delighted with how I was able to construct this text.🫶🏼

Open orders!

The friendship between you and Mattheo has always been a roller coaster of jokes, provocations and, occasionally, a latent feeling of competitiveness. His blood boiled when he mocked every time a teacher caught his attention, and you reciprocated in the same coin, turning each slip of his into a reason for laughter. These exchanges never went unnoticed, and the common room often echoed with the barbs exchanged between the two of you.

What began as childish games, however, now seemed to gain a different meaning. In the sixth year, the provocations were no longer seen as mere mischief. Their friends, who used to watch from afar, began to observe them with insightful eyes, full of insinuations, as if they saw something you had not yet realized. What was once just an exchange of innocent barbs, now seemed to have a background of palpable tension, almost as if there was something else behind the debauched smiles and defiant looks.

You had grown up. And, over time, new interests have emerged. However, the fun of seeing the other angry for any insignificant reason still aroused an almost childish satisfaction in both. The adrenaline of a small triumph, no matter how small it was, was addictive. And, to your surprise, that night in the communal room would seal a new phase of this dynamic between you.

I was sitting with Theodore, discussing his grades from the previous year. Both were always the best in the class, and there was no more fun in competing with each other. Someone who really challenged his abilities was missing, someone from another house, maybe. But before they could continue the conversation, a familiar voice interrupted their thoughts.

- What are you talking about? - Mattheo appeared, sitting on the sofa in front, his curious expression, almost as if he was sniffing the opportunity to get into the conversation.

You sighed, rolling your eyes. I knew he wouldn't miss the chance to participate.

- We were regretting the lack of a competitor to match - said Theodore, with a convinced air that only served to fuel Mattheo's interest.

- Competitor? - Mattheo frowned, looking genuinely confused, before opening a malicious smile. - Oh, this nonsense of those who get the best grades, isn't it? Well, your problems are over, because the opponent you're looking for is right here.

His laugh was automatic and loud. Mattheo's idea as an academic threat seemed, to say the least, absurd. Theodore also let out a discreet laugh, and Mattheo looked at them with a mixture of challenge and frustration.

- Oh, please, Matty, don't make me laugh. - you said between laughs, barely able to catch your breath.

- I'm serious - he replied, his voice getting softer as his eyes met yours. - Come on, are you so afraid of losing to me?

You narrowed your eyes, trying to keep your composure. The game was getting interesting.

- Afraid of you? - you replied, raising your chin with confidence. - You won't even come close to reaching me, Riddle.

A glow of determination appeared in his eyes, and you knew that from that moment on he was committed. But before he could answer, Pansy, who was watching from afar with a mischievous smile, intruded.

- Bet on a date at the end of classes - she suggested, her voice full of malice. - Whoever loses will have to do what the other wants for one night.

You blinked, surprised by the audacity of the suggestion, but before you could protest, Theodore was already agreeing, a sideways smile on his face.

- Great idea - he murmured, clearly having fun with the situation.

Mattheo didn't waste time. He stretched out his hand with a provocative smile.

- Closed. Get ready for the worst date of your life.

Without hesitation, you shook his hand, sealing the agreement. He knew he was getting into a potentially embarrassing situation, but he also trusted that, as much as Mattheo could be merciless in his provocations, he would never do anything to really hurt or humiliate her. It was a bet, yes, but one that came with a layer of mutual trust.

From that day on, your destiny was sealed. The "meeting" was already a reality, all that remained was to define who would dictate the rules. A part of you longed for the challenge, while another, more cautious, began to wonder if you hadn't underestimated Mattheo.

[...]

The weeks that followed showed that you had, in fact, underestimated Mattheo.

In the first days after the bet, you treated the challenge carefree, almost mocking the idea that he could do well. Mattheo was always the type of student who killed classes, glued to the exams and, in the end, counted on the good will of the teachers to pass the year. However, something has changed.

In recent months, teachers' conversations about Mattheo have started to surprise you. They no longer talked about their lack of discipline, but about their potential. They said he was finally showing how smart he was - something that, in fact, you already knew, but that he never made a point of demonstrating.

Mattheo, who used to seem uninterested, now really studied. Their furtive glances and provocations during classes seemed to hide a new, almost disturbing determination. Every time he raised his hand to answer a question or hit a complicated question, you felt the pressure increase. He was, against all expectations, taking it seriously.

And, little by little, you realized that maybe you were facing an opponent much more prepared than you imagined.

The months passed like a gale, each day bringing with it new provocations and challenges. The agreement, which initially seemed like an innocent joke, had turned into a real war of nerves. Both maintained a serious posture in class, but behind this facade, the tension was visible with each exchange of glances. No opportunity was wasted for a sharp comment, and the friends around had already gotten used to the constant clash between you.

The whole year was a fierce dispute, with comparative grades right after each class, always followed by sarcastic laughter and subtle provocations. In the first weeks, you laughed at Mattheo's attempt to keep up, making a point of spreading rumors among the girls who met him in the library. With a mischievous smile on your lips, you whispered:

- They say that Mattheo Riddle is looking for a girlfriend. He's been spending more time in the library than anywhere else, he must be trying to impress someone.

The giggles echoed through the common room, and in a short time, the rumor ran loose through the corridors of Hogwarts. The result? The library, which used to be a place of concentration and silence, became a battlefield. Girls appeared unexpectedly around Mattheo, curious to know if there was any truth in the rumors. He, visibly irritated, cast looks of disapproval in his direction, knowing very well where that chaos had come from.

On the other hand, he didn't leave it cheap. Knowing that his weak point was concentration, Mattheo took revenge in a calculated way. Whenever you isolated yourself in a corner of the library to study in peace, he appeared, casually, and started a loud conversation, talking about the most random and uninteresting subjects, but enough to divert your attention. Not satisfied, he began to launch provocative comments whenever he passed by you, as if he were talking to himself:

- Oh, how I love to see the despair of those who are afraid of losing a bet.

Or even:

- I heard that some people can't study under pressure... what a shame.

Not to mention the colleagues who suddenly came to ask silly questions or break their silence, clearly instigated by Mattheo. You knew he was behind each of these little sabotages. The environment that was once his refuge for study had become unbearable. Wherever you went, it seemed that Mattheo was always there, ready to disrupt his plans.

In the weeks of tests, the tension intensified. The psychological war continued, and now, everyone used their tricks with precision. The librarian had already lost patience with both of you, and more than once you were reprimanded for "disturbing the study environment". But nothing seemed to be able to interrupt the dispute. You were tied, each test being decided by tenths, sometimes with him in front, sometimes with you.

And then, the last test of the year arrived. It was from Feitiços, one of the most challenging subjects and also the one that both knew could seal the fate of the bet. The room was tense that morning, with the students silent, nervous, frantically reviewing their notes. Mattheo sat in the row in front of his, and before the teacher entered, he turned around, throwing a malicious smile in his direction.

- Ready to lose? Should I reserve the night for your punishment? - he whispered, his tone soft, but loaded with provocation.

You raised an eyebrow, returning the smile with a sparkle in your eyes.

- I hope you've already chosen your worst outfit, Riddle. I don't want it to seem like a complete disaster on our "date".

He laughed softly, shaking his head before turning around. The game was about to end, and they both knew it. Every word exchanged, every defiant look, everything had led to that moment.

When the teacher finally came in and distributed the scrolls, the silence in the room became absolute. The sound of feathers sliding on the paper was the only thing that was heard. Each second seemed to last an eternity while you wrote your answers with determination, maximum concentration. There was no room for mistakes.

From time to time, you noticed Mattheo moving in front of you, but refused to look away for more than a second. I knew that any distraction now could be expensive. When the test finally came to an end, you let out a sigh of relief. But the tension was still in the air. All that was left was to wait for the result.

In the weeks that followed, the provocations did not stop. Mattheo was confident, always making insinuating comments about what he would do if he won the bet. On the other hand, you kept your posture firm, not showing a shred of nervousness.

- Don't worry, Mattheo. I'm sure you'll love to fulfill your part of the agreement. - you said, without ever letting out the anxiety that grew as the day of the delivery of the notes approached.

When the notes were posted on the board, Mattheo's heart accelerated, but he kept his expression confident. You approached soon after, and when you saw the minimal difference between the notes, your heart sank. Mattheo had won. He had taken the best grade, but by such a small margin that it even seemed like a whim of fate. You, who until then had maintained a calm posture, could not avoid an expression of disbelief.

Next to him, Mattheo let out a loud, triumphant laugh. He looked up, as if he had won a great battle.

- I said! - he exclaimed, drawing the attention of everyone around. - I said I was going to win!

He was not satisfied with the silent victory. No, Mattheo wanted everyone to know that he had won the bet. You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to compose yourself while he turned on his heels, laughing as if he had just won Hogwarts' most desired trophy.

- Oh, I can't wait to see this! - Mattheo provoked, approaching you with a mischievous smile. - I hope you enjoyed losing, because now the night is all mine.

You just rolled your eyes, knowing that he wouldn't miss the chance to make the bet worth every penny. Mattheo wasn't content to just win; he needed to make it a show.

[...]

In the afternoon after Mattheo's victory, he and Theodore walked through the busy streets of the Diagonal Street, in search of the perfect piece for the "date" that Mattheo had planned. The sun was high, and the sound of the conversations of the wizards around filled the air. Mattheo, with a malicious smile on his face, was eager to turn the bet into an embarrassing and memorable situation for you. Theodore, next to him, watched him in silence, waiting for the right moment to pull the conversation that was clearly stuck in Mattheo's mind.

- I think this store will do. - said Mattheo, pointing to a window that displayed a collection of exaggeratedly colorful and extravagant clothes. It was the kind of store that didn't care about following trends, but about being the center of attention. Exactly what he was looking for.

When they entered, the environment was even more absurd than the showcase suggested. There were dresses with giant ruffles, shiny capes and hats that almost touched the ceiling. Mattheo took a quick turn, his eyes dancing between the most ridiculous pieces.

- She'll hate it. - he said, holding a pink dress with golden details and voluminous ruffles. - Perfect!

Theodore, with his arms crossed and an ironic smile, watched as Mattheo looked for more options. He knew his friend was having fun with that, but there was something else. There was always something more when it came to Mattheo and you.

- You know, you're trying too hard for this, don't you think? - Theodore commented, casually, while leaning against the store counter.

Mattheo let out a chuckle, without taking his eyes off his clothes.

- I'm trying hard to make sure she's embarrassed. That was the bet. She knew what she was getting into.

Theodore arched an eyebrow, still watching him carefully. He let Mattheo continue for a few more minutes, before deciding it was time to deepen the conversation.

- Right, right... - Theo said, in a carefree tone. - But... why are you so looking forward to it? I mean, it's just a bet. It seems that you are spending more time and money than you should.

Mattheo stopped for a moment, holding a ridiculous piece of clothing in his hands, but didn't answer immediately. His expression, for a brief moment, showed doubt. He looked at Theo, a little annoyed.

- I just want to make sure she learns not to underestimate a Riddle - he finally replied with a forced smile.

Theodore didn't buy the excuse. He took a few steps, approaching Mattheo, and lowered his voice, in a more serious tone.

- Or you really like her... - Theo shot, bluntly, while watching his friend's reaction.

Mattheo frowned immediately, dropping the dress in a macaw next to him.

- You're delirious, Nott. That has nothing to do with liking her. It's just... fun. A bet, remember?

But Theodore, undisturbed, just shrugged.

- Of course, of course. It's just a bet - he said, with sarcasm in his voice. - But let's think a little... You spent the whole year teasing her, Mattheo. Calling her attention in every possible way. He told girls to talk to her just to annoy her, he did everything to disrupt her studies, and now... he's personally choosing the most ridiculous outfit he can get for this date.

Mattheo turned around, crossing his arms and staring at Theo with a closed expression.

- And what's wrong with that? - he countered, defensively.

Theo took a few more steps, now closer to Mattheo.

- What's up with that? - he repeated, shaking his head with a smile. - You spent hours thinking about it, Mattheo. Hours. For someone who says it's just a bet, you're spending a lot of time on it. That's not just fun, Mattheo. Admitting that won't kill you.

Mattheo clenched his fists for a moment, clearly frustrated with the direction of the conversation. He wanted to deny it. He wanted to laugh at Theodore's face and say that it was absurd. But the words got stuck in the throat.

Theo, realizing his friend's discomfort, gave another accurate blow.

- How much time have you spent thinking about how to provoke her this year? And how many times have you done this because, deep down, you didn't want her to move away? - Theo let out a low laugh and shook his head. - All this, Mattheo, all these provocations... were just an excuse. An excuse to stay close to her, to ensure that she kept noticing you.

Mattheo snorted, trying to ignore the truth in Theodore's words. He took another piece of clothing, trying to divert the focus from the conversation.

- You don't know what you're talking about, Nott - he said, harshly, but his voice didn't have the same firmness as before.

Theo approached again, now with a softer smile.

- I know exactly what I'm talking about. And, deep down, you also know. - He took one last look at the ridiculous dress that Mattheo was holding and sighed, as if he was accepting something inevitable. - But it's okay. Keep pretending it's just a bet. I just hope you realize what's really going on before it's too late.

With that, Theodore walked away, leaving Mattheo alone with his thoughts and the clothes he had chosen. The silence that followed in the store seemed to weigh more than before. Mattheo stood there for a few seconds, staring at the dress in his hands, but his mind was elsewhere. Theo's words reverberated in his head, and for the first time, he wondered if the bet wasn't just an excuse to hide what he felt all the time.

[...]

The next morning, Mattheo seemed to have completely buried Theodore's words. His provocation was the same as always, but maybe with an extra touch of sarcasm. The most ridiculous costume he could find was carefully left at his door, wrapped in an almost solemn way. The box, with a dark green bow, seemed to mock you. Despite knowing exactly what was inside, you spent the day ignoring it, leaving the package untouched next to the door while trying to keep your head busy with anything other than the "date" that would happen later.

The provocations between you continued throughout the day, as if everything was normal. Mattheo seemed to have fun every time their eyes met, and you just rolled your eyes, determined to pretend that nothing would happen. But as the day progressed, reality began to weigh on you. There was no way to avoid it anymore.

When the sun finally set, you knew it was time to face the challenge. With a heavy sigh, he took the wrapping from the door, already feeling the weight of the humiliation that was to come. The contents of the box did not disappoint. The pink dress was a freak, with a huge golden bow that adorned her back, so exaggerated that it looked more like a gift wrapping than a piece of clothing. The voluminous skirt gave the impression that you were ready for an 80s debutante ball, and the boots... Oh, the boots were a monstrosity. Black and worn, with a low and clumsy heel that did not match at all with the rest of the set.

Resigned, you dressed up the best you could. Your hair, at least, was beautiful, and you decided that, if you were going to be ashamed, the least you could do was keep your dignity intact. She went downstairs to the communal room, where some of her friends were already waiting for her, evidently curious to see the disaster that Mattheo had planned.

- This is a nightmare - you grumbled, as you approached, without trying to disguise your frustration. - After that, I can forget about getting any boyfriend.

Pansy laughed softly, covering her mouth with her hand, while Blaise and Theo exchanged complicit glances. Mattheo, who was standing next to the fireplace, couldn't contain a laugh.

- Oh, go, don't be dramatic. - Mattheo said, with a glint of amusement in his eyes. - I guarantee that, after today, you will be the most talked about person in Hogwarts.

You crossed your arms, trying to maintain dignity, although you knew you were already lost.

- Spoken for the wrong reasons, maybe - you replied, your voice loaded with sarcasm.

Mattheo just laughed more, taking a step forward.

- Come on, come down soon. We don't have all night. - He made a theatrical gesture with his hand, indicating that you should come closer.

When you finally came up completely, the muffled laughter began. His friends, no matter how loyal they were, couldn't help it. Pansy and Daphne covered their mouths to try to hide how much fun they were having, while Theo and Blaise watched with the looks of those who knew that it was an unmissable show. But the most surprising was Mattheo's reaction. He stopped for a moment, his lips curving in a smile, but his eyes... Well, his eyes seemed surprised.

Even with all that ridiculous outfit, you could still look beautiful, which clearly disarmed you for a brief second. The dress, as absurd as it was, highlighted the curve of her waist and the delicate features of her face. And, for a thousandth of a second, Mattheo forgot the real goal of the bet.

But he soon recovered, shaking his head and returning to the carefree and provocative attitude.

- Well, well... - he said, crossing his arms and tilting his head to observe you better. - I think a detail is missing.

Before you could ask what he meant, Mattheo took something from behind him and extended it towards him. A track, similar to those of Miss Universe, but with an inscription that made her stomach turn: "Mattheo Riddle is amazing".

You looked at him, incredulous.

- You can only be joking - you murmured, but Mattheo kept smiling, swinging the banner in the air as if it were a prize.

- Come on, you can't miss it. This is part of the agreement. - He insisted, his eyes shining with malice.

- That wasn't in the agreement - you replied, with narrow eyes, but you knew it would be useless to argue.

Mattheo just laughed and extended the band.

- Oh, but it was you who said I could choose whatever I wanted. And now I want everyone to know how amazing I am. - He winked, clearly having fun at the expense of his indignation.

With a sigh, you took the band and reluctantly put it on the dress. It was the height of ridicule, but when he looked at Mattheo, he realized that, as much as he was having fun, there was something more in his eyes. Something beyond provocation.

- Now, make a turn for everyone to see - he ordered, with a mischievous smile.

You rolled your eyes, but turned on your heels, feeling the huge bow hit your back, while the muffled laughter around echoed through the room. Mattheo applauded in an exaggerated way, as if you were at a fashion show.

- Perfect! - he said, laughing, and approached, putting an arm around his shoulders. - And now, let's enjoy this unforgettable night.

And so, you left for Três Vassouras, where Mattheo had scheduled everything. The songs, the dances, even the places where they would sit. His friends, of course, went together, ready to watch every second of this show, but, as much as Mattheo's plan was going to embarrass you, the truth was that while you walked next to him, something seemed different. Maybe it was the way he looked at you, or the fact that, as ridiculous as the situation was, you were about to have more fun than you ever imagined.

When you arrived at Três Vassouras, the environment was full of life, with laughter and conversations filling the air. But as soon as they passed through the door, the bar seemed to stop for a moment. All eyes turned to you, as if you had just witnessed a scene worthy of a comedy play. Your exaggerated pink dress, with your voluminous skirt and the golden bow on the back, made you look like a clumsy doll. And next to it, Mattheo, dressed in a gigantic tuxedo, with his sleeves and pants folded up in an almost comical way, didn't help improve the situation.

The laughter echoed around, and you felt your face burn with shame. People whispered, pointed and laughed shamelessly. You tried to hide the discomfort, but you felt everyone's gaze as if you were on a stage, exposed in a way you never imagined. Mattheo, on the other hand, seemed impassive, with a malicious smile on his lips as he walked next to him to the table at the back of the bar, completely ignoring the reactions around him.

You cast an angry look at his disproportionate tuxedo, muttering something low.

- That was... a creative choice, at least - you commented, still trying to adapt to the situation.

He shrugged, fixing the exaggerated collar.

- It's all part of the show, princess.

As much as you were angry, you ended up laughing at the situation, especially when the buttery beers arrived. The sweet and creamy drink, as always, brought a little warmth and relief to the discomfort, and before you knew it, your friends were already around, laughing and pulling you to dance.

At first, he hesitated. She was too ridiculous to move, but the lightness of the jokes and the excitement of the night began to weigh more than the embarrassment. Soon, you were in the middle of the track, spinning and laughing with Pansy, Draco and the others. Each sip of buttery beer made the dress look less absurd, and the music helped to forget the looks around. Suddenly, it didn't matter anymore that I was dressed like a party cake. Only the fun and the shared laughter mattered.

While you danced, forgotten about the initial shame, Mattheo, from afar, watched with a different expression. He was leaning against the counter, a beer in his hand, but he barely touched it. Instead, his eyes were fixed on you, the way he moved carefree, laughing and spinning to the sound of the music. He didn't realize the exact moment when he stopped thinking all that was a joke.

Theodore's words, said the day before, echoed in his mind. At that moment, inside the store, he had vehemently denied any feeling. But now, seeing you so at ease, with a genuine smile on your face, the provocations and games seemed distant. All he could do was watch you, as if it was the first time he really noticed how much you enchanted him.

The time they spent provoking each other, the jokes, the competitions... all this was dissolving in Mattheo's mind as he looked at you that night. Theodore was right, he noticed. Maybe all that would have been an excuse, a way to disguise what he had been feeling all the time.

And now, with you dancing and laughing so freely, he couldn't pretend anymore. The smile he showed to others was always a mask, but at that moment, looking at you, he felt something real. A slight tightness in his chest that he couldn't ignore.

Without realizing it, Mattheo let out a deep sigh. It was no longer a matter of provoking or winning bets. There was something else there, something he hadn't been able to admit even to himself.

And, for the first time, he stopped fighting against that.

Damn, he really fell in love with you.

____________________________

masterlist xoxo, bee🫶🏼✨

[rotthepoet]

ILOVE YOU MATHEO FANFICS!!! And your Theo ones omg they're so cute and make me smile every time I see them!! Could you do something like this? If you want to of course!

It's like in Brookline nine nine where Jake and Amy have that bet where whoever gets the most arrests by the end of the year get to make the other do whatever they want.

• what if Matty boy or Theo (ether is good Matty would be my pick tho! Or if you like the prompt you could do one for each <3 ) and the reader had a bet about who could get the best marks on a test or something like that.

• And he wins and they make you go on "the worst date ever"

• like Jake made Amy in BNN. But like Jake that's when he realize his feelings for the reader.

Supper fluffy and cute!! Rivals/friends to lovers !

Love ya!!

HAHAHHA LMAOOO I’VE ACTUALLY STARTED WATCHING BROOKLYN 99 AGAIN AND THIS MADE ME CACKLLEEE

Because it was a complete and total shock when Mattheo made a better grade than you on your latest potions exam. He doesnt even show up to class half the time? Where the fuck does he get the time to study between all the ciggies hes smoking??

So fuck your life, because outside your door is Mattheo in a suit, holding a bouquet of flowers he knows you hate. He doesnt give them to you, tossing them out after you roll your eyes and nag at him.

Then onwards he takes you, an arm around your waist, walking you aorund Hogsmeade, and oddly enough the date doesn’t suck? He just keeps referring to you as his girlfriend, or his in general. He seems way too into this, to be honest.

He takes you out for a nice dinner, pays for everything, and honestly anxiety is chewing away at your stomach because its actually been a really pleasant night? When is the “worst part coming”

You actually stop him as he drops you off at your dorm, holding his arm. “You said this was going to be the worst date of my life?” “Was it not?” “No?” “Then since you enjoyed it so much, we should do it again sometime.” And he winks at you with all his skibity rizz.

And shit your heart is RACING on top of the blush spreading across your cheeks.

[my-castles-crumbling]

have you ever watched Brookline 99?

NINE NINE

[yourfavehaskenergy]

Charles Boyle from Brookline Nine-nine

Charles Boyle from Brooklyn Nine-nine has Kenergy!

[unstable-spychy]

Does anyone know a Livesies (Newsies) fanfic writer that still does requests? Cause I had this idea for a fic:

It’s like in Brookline nine nine where Jake and Amy have that bet where whoever gets the most arrests by the end of the year get to make the other do whatever they want.

what if Jack/Race and the reader had a bet about who could sell the most papers by the end of the year.

And Jack/Race win and they make you go on “the worst date ever”

like Jake made Amy in BNN. But like Jake that’s when Jack/Race realize their feelings for the reader.

That’s all, message me if you would be interested in writing it or if you know a writer that’s would <3

[dontsearchformyaccount]

My favorite posts

Rosa Diaz (Brooklin 99)

[leslie057]

9a + 9b please 🙏

hello! thank you for the lovely combo

prompt game posted here

9a + 9b = call me lover + but one is pouting

word count: 3.7k

It isn’t right that she’s sad today, even less right that she’s playing up the sad, and that in doing this she hopes to work guilt into every part of him, like water into clay, like honey into comb.

Given their extra-special circumstances, she knows she shouldn’t be anything more than mildly annoyed with him about his inability to pronounce girlfriend. And that has to be the issue, pronunciation, because why else would he shy away from such an innocent word? There’s no reasonable excuse. It’s an easy statement to make: look, my girlfriend’s here. He can do it, with the same ease that he labels everything else of his, he can do it. It’s my camera, my spatula, my turn to drive, my shirt not yours and you can’t have it…all his, until she’s involved. No, they don’t own each other. But sometimes you have to lay claim to things in life.

You just have to.

He paints houses. Every day in West Somerville he does, from nine to dinnertime. Watertown and Brookline, too. But mainly Somerville, especially Winter Hill. Interior, exterior, deck, door, and drywall. Expensive houses, cheap houses, new and old houses, houses with picket fences. It’s just what Emerson is looking for, a teenage boy who really knows his way around a…picket fence?

But the gap year thing is okay, and he’s still here with her as she navigates everything, even if he didn’t want to apply for college until it was way too late. He can apply for next year.

He moved away, far away just for her, no college waiting for him at the end of the journey, willing and able to be the slow tagalong Somerville boy to her busy Boston girl. And they get to live together. Harmony of opposites applies, as it always has. His loyalty means the world, and for what it’s worth, he is the best rated decorator Lovell Painting’s ever had. Very committed to the job.

But now Mr. Lovell doesn’t know she’s his harmonious opposite, doesn’t know she’s the girl he’s bringing home the bread to (not a lot of bread, but so much more than you’d expect someone to get for slinging paint) (then again, there’s probably no slinging involved, because Jonathan clearly believes there is an art to the task) (he has a weird way of leaning into unbeaten paths, finding purpose in hushed, forgettable places) (it’s lovable, is what it is, when she manages to push away the feeling that he’s missing out by not being in school).

No, Mr. Lovell doesn’t know who she is, because her boyfriend didn’t say. Couldn’t bring himself to say. Couldn’t bring himself to say the G word.

She’d asked Lauren from the student paper to take her to him after class. She missed him, plus she thought he shouldn’t be all alone on his way back home. He does plenty of lonely driving throughout the week. And since Lauren does everything for everyone, she actually said yes. Fifteen minutes later, Nancy was at a place she’d never been before. Here they were at the end of October, and she hadn’t been. She had no idea where her five star trades-boy turned in his paintbrush at the end of the day.

She’d wandered in, into the little white office that likely used to be a shed, all open windows and whirring box fans and latex fumes. On a stool, he filled out his timesheet. She gave him a hug around the neck from behind, avoiding the sensitive surface of his sunburned arms.

Made him jump, then made him relax.

“Sorry, I knew that would scare you. I’m not trespassing, am I?”

“No, you—no, not trespassing at all. What time is it?”

She tilted her head sideways and consulted her watch. “5:11,” she said. Tilted her head more, more, more, trying to kiss his jaw and its underside.

Hung over his shoulders like that, she took her first deep breath of the day. Tendrils of dried paint stretched across his shirt collar and sleeves, the kind of spiderweb splatters that don’t come out in the wash. She watched him jot down a couple light-handed notes in all capital letters. His name was everywhere on the page and highlighted in some instances, an indication of overtime work. She had felt weird then for being judgy—felt bad—thinking maybe there was a chance he was where he needed to be. Not school, right here. Humble, dependable, and first-rate.

Then Mr. Lovell came in.

And ruined everything.

“Jonathan, you heading out soon?”

“Oh, right now, actually. Turns out we can’t pick up anything until tomorrow morning. Like, anything at all, they said.”

“Yikes. Oh well, then.”

“Apparently our order got delayed because of the tight space rollers.”

“Hm. Tight space rollers, they never have them in, do they?”

“No, sir, never. They never ever have anything below a 6 inch.”

She stayed still, reading the room. Gauging the boss. Lovell didn’t seem to mind her or her public display of affection. He was a youngish man, son to the original Mr. Lovell of Lovell Painting, tall and nonchalant with the look of a relatable salesman.

“Hey. Jake Lovell,” he finally said to her. “Don’t think I’ve met you before, how’s it going?”

“Hey, good, thanks.” In the subsequent silence she waited. Waited for what was sure to come. Oh yeah, sorry, this is my girlfriend, Nancy. This is Nancy, we just moved in together. This is the girl I told you about, Nancy Wheeler. We’ve been dating for almost two years. She’s the best. Nancy is the best. Hey, guess what, my girlfriend Nancy once repainted her little sister’s dollhouse from top to bottom, think we should hire her next?

He kept his mouth shut.

“I’m Nancy,” she sighed.

“Oh, okay, you’re Nancy.”

Had he heard the name before? If he had, that must have been all he heard. His eyes were brimming with confusion.

“That’s me,” she said and untangled herself from her betrayer, the one she’d been draped over like some sleepy starfish.

Starfish didn’t want to cling anymore.

“She’s Nancy,” he’d mumbled while clearing off the desk.

The eldest in the room clocked the tension between them. “Well, you know it was nice to meet you, Nancy, but I’ve gotta get going. Be careful around the mess, you look very professional in those clothes.”

She slid her hands down the sides of her thighs, black slacks swishing above high heels.

“You look very…casual, Mr. Lovell. Guess we’ll see you later.”

And that was it.

And that was then. This is now: now, she is pouting. The most pathetic pouting session she's had to date. This is textbook manipulation pouting and then some, this is wallowing in the events of the afternoon like they involved theft, fraud, and murder.

Is she putting on a performance here? Yes, duh, of course she is. But is she down about what he said (and didn’t say) earlier? Also yes. That part is real. He did make her sad.

Yes.

Lucky for her, she’s got tricks in her bag.

Exactly four tricks, to be precise, for this type of situation. One, a shower—a shower taken earlier than usual. To get away and to get out of restrictive clothing (restrictive clothing doesn’t mix well with sadness). No more black slacks, no more newsgirl blouse. No jewelry either, it’s totally unnecessary. Unless…keep your necklace on, if you want, since that can be played with. Really you just have to remember that comfort is what works. Wet hair is what works. An XL shirt works, and peach soap works, and so does a frown, and so does a thick pair of socks, for whatever reason.

Two is a book. Not a short book, pick a long book. Flip to the beginning to read. Beginnings are hard to get through, and he knows it. He will empathize. Three, lack of light. The less light in the room, the better. Not only have you chosen to start a long book after 5pm without having even eaten dinner, you’ve chosen to do so without sufficient reading light. That’s true misery.

Four, the most important trick, is a bad record. Just awful. It needs to be scratched, it needs to skip. Needs to skip a lot. Your record should make other records worry about where they’ll be in ten years. Jonathan Byers doesn’t want this for you; if you are his favorite person, and listening to music is the best thing anyone can do, your tolerance of a broken record will rile him. You deserve better. He will want to compensate for all the hurt caused by your subpar listening experience.

“Nancy?” he says from the doorway.

“Mhm.”

“Good shower?”

“Sure. Good shower.”

“You beat me to it.”

It’s an understatement. Without a word, she had headed for the shower. Very first thing she did when they got to the apartment. She went to turn the water on, still wearing her shoes, and waited for it to get hot, and never once looked back.

She curls in on herself on the bed, avoiding his gaze. “Since when did you decide you have first dibs on everything?” she murmurs to her book. To Middlemarch.

“Uh, no, it's not that, I just meant that I’m…pretty paint-y, at the moment. You know?”

The response is delivered innocently, harmlessly, lightly, and she almost considers backing down, ditching the majority of her plan or maybe all of it. Almost considers, before deciding against. (She has to soldier on; his adorable use of a made-up word doesn’t fix a thing, now does it?)

“Right.”

“There’s so much primer on my hands, it’s the worst feeling in the world. It’s so bad. It’s like…it’s like if someone brushed plaster right onto my palm and then let it harden. Overnight.”

“Mhm.”

A break in the tense conversation comes and gives those background noise record screeches their moment to shine. Leaning on the doorframe, he winces.

“So,” she shifts her body until the blanket slips, “did you need something, or…”

Their eyes meet. His are sleepy–his are suddenly charged with doubt, two dark wells of worry.

“No, nothing, I don’t…it…it seems like you might be the one that needs something?”

She huffs. It seems like she needs something? For that she won’t go easy on him. A fake cry might cross her mind, if she were a psychopath, but fortunately for both of them she’s not. Sincere regret is already cocooning her, compacting itself with each passing minute, a dense shroud of claustrophobic ickiness. Not always as fun as you’d plan for: guilt tripping someone who’s hopelessly devoted. Really, how hard is it to have a mature conversation about the way you feel neglected in this one marginal area of the relationship, even though you’re well taken care of in all the others. Very hard, it turns out. Very very hard.

And besides, this is how the Jonathan and Nancy network operates. She uses her upset to make weird power moves. He lies about his upset altogether. The system is what it is.

“If you care so much, figure it out yourself.” It’s a feeble whisper, accessorized with the twitch of her bottom lip and an arbitrary sniffle. She flips over to the eighth page of Middlemarch. Pulls her blanket back up over her waist. The leftover scent of her body wash is strong, so strong, even in her own nose. It’s like peach sorbet and paint thinner had a baby in their bedroom.

“Nancy…”

His voice has that deconstructed softness in it, gentle yet desperate, which is highly familiar. He uses it constantly. That’s the trick in his bag, but she’s not quite sure he knows it’s a trick. Because of it, the whole stay-mad-at-him project isn’t gonna be smooth sailing. She swallows hard, necklace pendant between her fingers.

“Hey, what happened?” He steps closer to the bed and uncrosses his arms. “This isn’t…it isn’t about Lauren, right?”

Oh, wow. Okay. Clueless.

“Because you really do ask her for a lot of favors, and I know she’s always happy to do them, but just…maybe don’t make her drive out there again. Not when I’m literally clocking out.”

“Oh…” She closes her book and fixes her eyes on the window. That one actually does make her want to cry.

“No, don’t,” he pleads, “don’t do the sad oh thing. You’re gonna make me sad. You’re gonna break me.”

The sigh that escapes her is fully authentic in its lethargy. Her fingertips play over the pillow under her head and its silky case. “Sorry, it’s just that now you think I take advantage of Lauren and you don’t like to see me at work, so.”

“No, I love to see you, I had no idea you would come after class just for that. It was really nice.”

“Yeah, so nice—”

“Until you ignored me in the car, yes!”

Hugging her own waist, she draws up her knees. God, that record…it should be physically impossible for ABBA to ever sound bad but this is pushing it. How truly depressing.

She imagines that the invisible thread connecting his heart to hers is starting to fray at this point; those grating sounds in his ears, the mix of chemicals on his skin, the intentionally seductive nature of her pity party, the annoying flicker of the lamp in the corner (only thing the previous tenants left behind when they moved, the sole forgotten object). All of it must be torturing him.

He picks up her book off the mattress, leaves it in the windowsill to—sunbathe? Who knows, honestly.

"Look,” he says, “I think we might need to take a second before we get into this. Do you want me to leave you alone for a minute? Would that help, or no?”

Apprehensively he reaches down, down to touch her shoulder, sort of…petting her, a few times. What you’d do if you found a wild jaguar in your backyard, but it was a really sweet looking jaguar.

When she doesn’t bite, he bravely makes eye contact with her. “You just have to tell me what you want, that’s all I need.”

(Such a good boyfriend when he’s trying. Holy shit.)

Fearful that the affection wave will show on her face, she flips over, switching sides. “Want you to lay down,” she mumbles.

Well that wasn’t part of the plan.

She listens for his reaction. A deep breath in, a deep breath out. “I’m filthy, you do realize that.”

“We’ve gone to bed wearing monster blood…”

He shrugs his jacket off.

(So, the summer had been a violent ride. Summer of ‘86, filed away in her brain with the rest of her nightmare inventory forever. All’s said and done now. Maybe they’re finally safe. God, please.)

It takes them a sec to get settled, but he hems her in, wraps her up, holds her close without any further begging. It’s crazy satisfying. Plaster-rough hand curls around her ribs under her shirt, and his nose brushes her neck. Antsy, she shuffles her feet together, scrunched socks keeping her warm.

“You genuinely—”

“Smell so good?” she predicts.

“Yeah.”

“New soap.”

“Ten out of ten.”

“Well, you know, it’s not formaldehyde, but what is?”

“Give me some slack,” he murmurs, “not my fault all my passions involve chemicals.”

Painting houses is his passion now? Alright, good to know. It’s that, developing photos, and being so much of a dummy he forgets to introduce his girlfriend to his boss when they first meet.

Again: exactly the kind of boy Emerson is looking for.

A minute later he’s kissing her neck.

Yeah, not sure how that happened.

After taking his first few tastes, he quickly stops himself. “Wait, can I do this?” he wonders aloud.

“I’ll let you decide. Do you think you should be doing that?”

“I don’t know. On the one hand,” he places a soft kiss at the base of her throat, “I still haven’t figured out what’s going on with you.”

Her eyelids flutter. “And on the other?”

Mouth barely open, he drags the tip of his tongue across her collarbone in one slow slide. “On the other I think—”

She fails to repress a squeaky whimper, which makes him falter.

“…that doing this could maybe, just maybe, help me get information out of you.”

She’s lost her breath so fast. “Decisions, decisions,” she manages to get out.

Second option wins him over. Next he’s tangling up his hand in her wet hair, kissing her neck like there really is peach sorbet to be found in her pores. He hums while getting acclimated to the malleability of her damp skin, impossibly supple malleability, and lingers with his mouth at her pulse point before giving in and sucking on it, not hard enough to make a bruise, but enough to make blood rush to her head.

She grabs the back of his neck in an attempt to stay anchored and from there he surrenders, from there he lets her force the path that his lips map out on her. Chapped but sticky with spit, they part and purse on her jaw, softly massaging the bone.

“Please can we get you a new album soon,” he whispers, “this is painful.”

“Hm?”

“The record’s a disaster, throw it away.”

“Don’t tell me to throw my things away,” she slurs weakly.

Her thigh catches his hip, and she bucks a little, rocks a little. Nothing crazy, just dirty. She can’t help herself.

“Tell me what upset my girlfriend and I won’t say anything ever again for the rest of my life.”

-

There it is. Jesus, it’s what she wanted. See, there’s no pronunciation issue after all. Girlfriend. His girlfriend.

She goes perfectly still. He may not realize she’s all shook up inside, but he notices the outward change, that’s for sure.

Time to get into it.

She takes a moment to prepare herself. “Are you ready to listen?”

“I’ve been ready, Nance.”

“Okay. It wasn’t about Lauren,” she spills, “Lauren and I are fine. We didn’t have a fight, we’ve never had a fight, and after she dropped me off today she told me she likes the drive to Middlesex because the roads are so smooth and driving calms her down and she gets sick of being in Boston, and I promise I’m not lying when I tell you this, but she offered to take me again tomorrow, I swear to you she did.”

“Okay, I believe you—”

“Though now I’m thinking I don’t even want to take her up on the offer, because me being there was clearly an unwanted change that didn’t exactly mean anything to anyone, and if you seriously don’t know what made me switch up today I need you to ask yourself how you think my conversation with your manager made me feel earlier.”

“You’re upset because of…something Mr. Lovell said?”

He’s so lost.

“No, because of what you said.”

“And what did I say?”

“It’s what you didn’t say. Jonathan, you didn’t tell him who I was. You didn’t introduce me at all.”

“I’m—sorry, you…you introduced yourself, why would I need to—”

“He doesn’t know you’re dating me.”

“But he does? It’s kind of obvious, isn’t it? Without words?”

“No! Not without words. For all he knows I’m some random girl you met on the street, next thing you know he’ll be setting you up on dates with his niece and scheduling you to work Valentine’s Day. You’re supposed to be upfront about us and you never, ever are. Why aren’t you?”

His turn to pout now. He rests his head on her shoulder. “I don’t know? Sometimes it feels like…”

The gears in his brain go on and on, and his blush deepens. “Like fishing for attention.”

“Well that’s why I’m sad, you’re why I’m sad. You don’t want attention, so you don’t call me your girlfriend. Maybe once a month, if that. You don’t call me your girlfriend a lot and I love when you call me your girlfriend. There’s nothing unclear about a word like that."

“I…can do better, I didn’t know it was a big deal to you. That I say it more.”

“Duh, I don’t wanna feel invisible. I want you to talk about me.”

Her heart pounds with the energy of the moment, with surfacing reminders of how different they are. The silence expands around them, his breathing shallow. This is really the first time it’s dawning on him, the depth of her need for validation? Maybe she forgot that acknowledgment of their relationship outside their private bubble is not something he would go for without being asked. Maybe she forgot.

"So it’s not the word,” he says, “it’s telling people?”

“I like privacy, I do, but what’s between us needs to be something others can see. Something they don’t have to guess on.”

Yeah, keeping their peers guessing in high school was good. Low-key meant less harassment, fewer problems. Having said that, high school is gone forever.

He nods. “I get it. I'll get it, eventually. I’ll try.”

“Okay. Good. Thank you.”

Though the conflict isn’t totally resolved, it kind of feels resolved for tonight. At least that’s what her hormones want her to go with, shifting back and forth, this way and that, residing on the rockiest of tectonic plates that have been calibrated to him for longer than he knows. As strange as her first two months of college have been, as many messes as they’re making in their relationship, she has infinite confidence in the Jonathan and Nancy network. All things considered, this is the right time to be messy, they’ll have plenty of room to clean up the love when they’ve grown up. Fighting isn’t fun but…it feels amazing to know he’s in this with her, wading out to her in the swell of their mature immaturity, sticking up for young love even after their conflict resolution turns chaotic.

He loves her, and whenever she’s blue, he begs her to let him fix it. Neither of them rest easy until the blue gets painted over.

“Hey, girlfriend?”

She breathes out a laugh. “What?”

“Since we’re sharing…”

She tilts her head back, pushes her nose against his gently. “Careful, don’t say something you shouldn’t.”

“I really like it when you use your revenge soap against me. Very evil, but I like it.”

[brainddeadd]

I love your Boone fics!!!!!!!!!! They bring me so much joy!!! Do you think you could do something like this?

It's like in Brookline nine nine where Jake and Amy have that bet where whoever gets the most arrests by the end of the year get to make the other do whatever they want.

• what if Boone and the reader have a bet of who can get the most views on a video by the end of the week or something like that.

• And Boone wins and he make you go on "the worst date ever"

• like Jake made Amy in BNN. But like Jake that's when Boone realize his feelings for the reader.

Super fluffy and cute!! Rivals/friends to lovers!!

Thank you!

I desperately want to write this, and I have been trying, but the hyperfixation has abandoned me, and I can't think of anything 😔

[cherryblossomgirl8490]

The 1934 Disappearance of Wilderness Explorer, Everett Ruess.

Background

Christopher Ruess and Stella Knight were married on April 2, 1905. He was a Unitarian minister and she was a dancer and artist. Their first child, Waldo (named after Ralph Waldo Emerson), was born on September 5, 1909. A second son, Everett (named after the author and historian Edward Everett Hale), was born on March 28th, 1914, in Oakland, California.

Both Stella and Christopher had a deep love of books and of art, which they imparted to their children. They were avid diarists as well and encouraged both of their sons to not only keep a diary themselves, but to also copy out long passages from their respective diaries in letters home when they were separated from their parents.

In September 1918, the family moved to Brookline, Massachusetts, because Christopher had decided to take a job with the Chautauqua Industrial Art Desk Company. When Stella’s father became ill, she and Everett traveled across the country by train to Los Angeles to care for him. Along the way, they made several stops at memorable locations such as the Grand Canyon and the Yosemite Valley. Everett was nine at the time and began keeping his first diary during this trip. His earliest writings showed his growing fascination with nature and his love of traveling. As Everett grew a little older, he also developed a passion for writing poetry and painting. He was even able to sell some of his watercolor paintings from time to time.

Everett graduated from high school in 1931. Though his parents very much wanted him to attend college, Everett had other ideas. That same year, Everett went off on his first solo adventure, hiking and camping out in the wilderness, as well as keeping a detailed diary about his feelings and experiences, and writing frequent letters to his family. He also loved visiting Anasazi ruins and collecting artifacts from these sites. Thus began his pattern of hitchhiking, camping, and hiking for months at a time before briefly returning home, only to leave once again, starting the cycle anew. He met many people along the way during these solo trips, but a certain shyness and inherent desire for solitude kept him from forming connections with most of the people he encountered during his travels, a fact which he sometimes lamented in his diaries. He tried to support himself by selling paintings, but because he was rarely able to make a sale (and keep in mind that this was during the Great Depression), his expeditions were mostly financed by his parents.

Everett adopted a small and adorable brown and white dog named Curly, from a Navajo Reservation in 1931, to have as a companion. He also always had either a pair of burros or a pair of horses to accompany him out in the wilderness.

Everett suffered from frequent periods of dark moods, which some have theorized may have actually been depressive episodes. In a letter to his older brother Waldo in 1931, Everett alluded to having been suicidal the previous summer:

"Whatever I have suffered in the months past has been nothing compared with the beauty in which I have steeped my soul, so to speak. It has been a priceless experience–and I am glad it is not over. What I would have missed if I had ended everything last summer!"

On September 8th, 1933, Everett was stung by bees at least a dozen times in addition to already being covered in poison oak blisters. In his attempt to escape the bees, he fell into Goddard Creek, but was in so much pain and was feeling so lethargic that he struggled to find the strength to pull himself out of the water and nearly drowned.

However, by 1934 and particularly in the weeks leading up to his disappearance, he was seemingly in very good spirits and doing better than ever before. In his letters to his parents, he spoke of having “great fun” with the locals and even alluded to having come into quite a bit of cash recently (though he never elaborated on the source of this money) and stated that he now had “more money than I need”. Also, for the first time ever, he sent money home to help his parents out.

Disappearance

On November 21st, 1934, two sheepherders named Addlin Lay and Clayton Porter, encountered Everett on the Hole-in-the-Rock trail, where they were camping. According to them, they offered Everett a quarter of mutton, but he declined, saying that he had plenty of food. They then watched as Everett and his burros, Cockleburrs and Chocolatero, made their way southeast, towards Davis Gulch. This was the last time anyone is known to have seen Everett Ruess.

Though almost two months had gone by since Everett’s family had heard from him, they didn’t think much of it to begin with, as Everett had warned them back in the fall that he may not be near a post office for a month or two. However, by late January they were becoming concerned. Their alarm only heightened when they received their own letters to Everett back in the mail, the envelopes still sealed. They began writing letters to every postmaster in every town in the southwest that Everett was known to have visited. When this yielded no answers as to where their son was, they started writing to sheriffs, traders, newspapers, radio stations, and Indian agents. But no one had seen Everett in months or knew anything of his current whereabouts.

The Search

Finally, on March 1st, months after that last sighting back in November, a search party was formed. A man named Jennings Allen, along with a dozen other local men, headed into Davis Gulch on horseback hoping to find some sign of Everett or what had become of him. They turned up nothing until March 6th, when they found Cockleburrs and Chocolatero, Everett’s burros, in a corral. There are discrepancies in the accounts of the searchers as to the condition these burros were found in though, with some claiming that they were “thin and emaciated”, while others said that they were “fat and healthy”.

Nearby, in a natural alcove, they found what was presumed to have been Everett’s final campsite. There were footprints, Anasazi potsherds, candy wrappers, empty cans and an impression in the dirt from a bedroll. Notably absent from this site were Everett’s money, camping gear, cooking equipment, paintings and art supplies, and his 1934 journal. They also discovered two different spots in Davis Gulch where “Nemo 1934” had been etched into the rock. “Nemo”, Latin for “nobody”, is a pseudonym that Everett was known to have adopted and so it is assumed that he’s the one who made these inscriptions. Both inscriptions are now underwater and have been since 1957, when the waters of Lake Powell rose during the construction of Glen Canyon Dam.

Beyond this, nothing more would ever be found that would shed light on what happened to Everett Ruess.

Additional Information

There was a rumor in Escalante, a nearby town, that Everett had been robbed and murdered by local cattle rustlers who mistook him for a government agent. By 1934, cattle rustling was becoming rampant in this area and due to this, the Cattlemen’s Association spread a false rumor that an undercover government investigator had been sent out to the area. As the story goes, Everett arrived in town shortly thereafter.

A Navajo man named Aneth Nez told his granddaughter (Daisy) a story in 1971 about witnessing a young white man being chased and then murdered by Ute Indians near Comb Ridge in the mid-1930’s. After the Utes left, Nez buried the body. Remains were eventually found in that area, but DNA testing confirmed that they did not belong to Everett.

In the 1970’s, a tourist found bones wedged in a crack in Davis Gulch. The bones seemed to indicate that the person had suffered a broken hip and a fractured collar bone. He turned over the bones to a National Park Service ranger, who in turn gave them to his supervisor. However, shortly after this the bones went missing and have never been found.

Theories

Accidental death, perhaps due to a fall or drowning.

Murder

Suicide

Sources:

[tapparell-a]

Brooklin nine nine is so marauders coded change my mind (you can't)

Regulus: i've only said i love you to three people. my brother, Pandora, and James when he got hit by a bladger and was dying from the head injury . I only regret one of those.

Remus: which one?

Regulus: James. he recovered like 2 days later so I just looked like an idiot

James: we're married

Regulus: still.

[novumtimes]

Hossler leads by one in search of first PGA Tour title

Beau Hossler played his part on another day of low scoring at the Sanderson Farms Championship, shooting an eight-under 64 to take a one-shot lead in pursuit of his first PGA Tour victory. Hossler started his second round with a three-putt bogey from about 30 feet, and felt like he made just about everything after that, including a 30-foot eagle putt on the par-5 fifth hole. Daniel Berger, out of golf for 18 months with a back injury, had another round of seven birdies and no bogeys for a 65 and was one shot behind. The group two back included Keith Mitchell (64), Jacob Bridgeman (66) and Englishman David Skinns, who opened with a course-record 60 and had to rally with three birdies on the back nine just to break par with a 71. Hossler was at 15-under 129 on the soft, still and vulnerable Country Club of Jackson. The cut was at six-under 138. “If you go out and try and shoot eight-minus, nine-under par, it’s not going to happen,” Hossler said. “You’ve got to try and take it one at a time, try and pick apart the par 5s as best you can, birdie the drivable hole. And there you are already starting three minus, four minus, five-under par.” He nearly followed that script, except for missing a 12-foot birdie on the par-5 13th. But he played the par 5s in four under with the eagle, and made short work of the short par-4 15th. Berger was No.25 in the world when he stepped away with back trouble after the 2022 US Open at Brookline. He was at No.664 when he felt good enough to return in January at The American Express. Only recently has he felt closer to normal. “I think it’s kind of a process,” he said. “You’re working every day to get one per cent better, and then you got to a point where you don’t have to think about it or worry about it and that’s kind of where I am now.” The FedEx Cup Fall for most players is all about finishing in the top 125 in November to secure a full card for 2025. Bridgeman took a big step. He came into this week at No.123, and now can think about a far bigger prize. Skinns lost a little ground as expected. He had a three-shot lead on Thursday but 24 hours later he already was five shots behind Hossler when he teed off for the second round. Skinns made a pair of bogeys and was sliding down the leaderboard until pulling it together on the back nine to go into the weekend just two shots back. Former US Open champion Gary Woodland, who is taking it slowly from brain surgery just over a year ago, posted a bogey-free 68 that left him in the group three behind at 12-under 132. Aaron Baddeley, the lone Australian in the field, missed the cut after rounds of 73 and 77 for a six-over total. Source link via The Novum Times

[thetinyblossom]

hey I’m not sure if you do any b99 stuff anymore but I think I saw you do something to do with CG Jake peralta and I was wondering if you could do some headcanons for Rosa Diaz as a caregiver? If you can’t do headcanons i’m fine with anything else.

(also, sorry about asking from my main, I can’t ask from my side agere blog. It’s not NSFW though dw)

🐺🪽✨

Im so sorry this took me soooo long!!!!

I don’t think I did those hcs, I did make a agere board for regressor Jake Peralta tho! It’s ok tho, dw!!!

(I need to rewatch B99 it’s so fun)

Btw!!! This the DNI banner is F2U!!!

The transcript of the alt text is under cut (F2U too)

Banner format, the background is a gradient of a darker red to a lighter one, there are two photos, one on the right side and the other on the left side, both photos are of the character Rosa Diaz from the TV show Brooklyn Nine-Nine, in the right she appears smiling and on the left holding a puppy, in the middle there is a text written "Child-safe interactions interactions only" and under it "Do not interact kink or not safe for work accounts"

[corebionics]

Golf enthusiasts around the world are constantly seeking out the best and most prestigious golf courses to test their skills and immerse themselves in the sport's rich history. The United States boasts a remarkable array of world-class golf courses, each with its unique design, challenging layout, and breathtaking scenery. In this article, we present a comprehensive list of the top 100 golf courses in the United States, capturing the essence of the country's golfing landscape and offering a bucket list of must-play courses for avid golfers. Please note that the order of the courses in this list is subjective and may vary depending on personal preferences and opinions. Augusta National Golf Club - Augusta, Georgia Pebble Beach Golf Links - Pebble Beach, California Cypress Point Club - Pebble Beach, California Pine Valley Golf Club - Pine Valley, New Jersey Shinnecock Hills Golf Club - Southampton, New York Oakmont Country Club - Oakmont, Pennsylvania Merion Golf Club (East Course) - Ardmore, Pennsylvania Winged Foot Golf Club (West Course) - Mamaroneck, New York National Golf Links of America - Southampton, New York Seminole Golf Club - Juno Beach, Florida Bethpage Black - Farmingdale, New York Whistling Straits (Straits Course) - Sheboygan, Wisconsin Muirfield Village Golf Club - Dublin, Ohio Oak Hill Country Club (East Course) - Rochester, New York Kiawah Island Golf Resort (Ocean Course) - Kiawah Island, South Carolina Baltusrol Golf Club (Lower Course) - Springfield, New Jersey Pinehurst Resort & Country Club (No. 2) - Pinehurst, North Carolina Riviera Country Club - Pacific Palisades, California Winged Foot Golf Club (East Course) - Mamaroneck, New York San Francisco Golf Club - San Francisco, California The Olympic Club (Lake Course) - San Francisco, California Chicago Golf Club - Wheaton, Illinois Oak Hill Country Club (West Course) - Rochester, New York Fishers Island Club - Fishers Island, New York The Country Club - Brookline, Massachusetts Medinah Country Club (No. 3) - Medinah, Illinois Bandon Dunes Golf Resort (Pacific Dunes) - Bandon, Oregon Los Angeles Country Club (North Course) - Los Angeles, California Oak Tree National Golf Club - Edmond, Oklahoma Southern Hills Country Club - Tulsa, Oklahoma Quaker Ridge Golf Club - Scarsdale, New York Kiawah Island Golf Resort (Cassique) - Kiawah Island, South Carolina The Ocean Course at Hokuala - Lihue, Hawaii The Ocean Course at Kiawah Island - Kiawah Island, South Carolina Crystal Downs Country Club - Frankfort, Michigan The Club at Pelican Hill (Ocean North) - Newport Coast, California Trump National Golf Club (Los Angeles) - Rancho Palos Verdes, California Friar's Head Golf Club - Baiting Hollow, New York Erin Hills Golf Course - Erin, Wisconsin Whistling Straits (Irish Course) - Sheboygan, Wisconsin Somerset Hills Country Club - Bernardsville, New Jersey Oakland Hills Country Club (South Course) - Bloomfield Hills, Michigan The Greenbrier (Old White TPC) - White Sulphur Springs, West Virginia Kiawah Island Golf Resort (Osprey Point) - Kiawah Island, South Carolina Prairie Dunes Country Club - Hutchinson, Kansas The Golf Club - New Albany, Ohio The Club at Nine Bridges - Jeju Island, South Korea Monterey Peninsula Country Club (Shore Course) - Pebble Beach, California The Boulders (South Course) - Carefree, Arizona Sand Hills Golf Club - Mullen, Nebraska The Estancia Club - Scottsdale, Arizona Wade Hampton Golf Club - Cashiers, North Carolina The Quarry at La Quinta - La Quinta, California Olympia Fields Country Club (North Course) - Olympia Fields, Illinois The Sanctuary Golf Club - Sanibel Island, Florida Camargo Club - Indian Hill, Ohio The Club at Shoal Creek - Shoal Creek, Alabama The Honors Course - Ooltewah, Tennessee Sebonack Golf Club - Southampton, New York The Preserve Golf Club - Carmel, California The Country Club of Virginia (James River Course) - Richmond, Virginia

Victoria National Golf Club - Newburgh, Indiana The Bridges at Rancho Santa Fe - Rancho Santa Fe, California Mayacama Golf Club - Santa Rosa, California The Golf Club at Black Rock - Coeur d'Alene, Idaho Calusa Pines Golf Club - Naples, Florida The Sagamore Club - Noblesville, Indiana Peachtree Golf Club - Atlanta, Georgia Wade Hampton Golf Club - Cashiers, North Carolina The Cliffs at Keowee Falls - Salem, South Carolina Hazeltine National Golf Club - Chaska, Minnesota Victoria Golf Club - Victoria, British Columbia, Canada Whispering Pines Golf Club - Trinity, Texas Butler National Golf Club - Oak Brook, Illinois Castle Pines Golf Club - Castle Rock, Colorado The Valley Club - Hailey, Idaho Aronimink Golf Club - Newtown Square, Pennsylvania Whisper Rock Golf Club (Lower Course) - Scottsdale, Arizona Carlton Woods (Fazio Course) - The Woodlands, Texas Bel-Air Country Club - Los Angeles, California The Alotian Club - Roland, Arkansas The Reserve Vineyards & Golf Club (North Course) - Aloha, Oregon Crooked Stick Golf Club - Carmel, Indiana The Dunes Golf & Beach Club - Myrtle Beach, South Carolina Pine Tree Golf Club - Boynton Beach, Florida Kinloch Golf Club - Manakin-Sabot, Virginia Congressional Country Club (Blue Course) - Bethesda, Maryland The Golf Club of Tennessee - Kingston Springs, Tennessee Rock Creek Cattle Company - Deer Lodge, Montana Old Macdonald at Bandon Dunes Golf Resort - Bandon, Oregon Trump International Golf Club - West Palm Beach, Florida The Cliffs at Mountain Park - Travelers Rest, South Carolina Essex County Club - Manchester-by-the-Sea, Massachusetts The Bridge - Bridgehampton, New York Valhalla Golf Club - Louisville, Kentucky The Federal Club - Glen Allen, Virginia Sedgefield Country Club (Ross Course) - Greensboro, North Carolina Meadowbrook Country Club - Northville, Michigan The Resort at Pelican Hill (South Course) - Newport Coast, California Muirfield Village Golf Club - Dublin, Ohio Conclusion: The United States is home to an impressive collection of golf courses that capture the essence of the sport's rich heritage and provide players with unforgettable experiences. From iconic venues to hidden gems, this list of the top 100 golf courses in the United States offers a comprehensive guide for golf enthusiasts seeking to embark on an unforgettable golfing journey. Whether you're looking to challenge yourself on renowned championship layouts or revel in the natural beauty of lesser-known gems, these courses embody the best of American golf and promise to leave a lasting impression on players of all skill levels.

[bobmccullochny]

History

November 20, 1789 - New Jersey became the first state to ratify the Bill of Rights.

November 20, 1910 - Francisco Madero launched the social revolution in Mexico, exposing Mexico's political dictatorship and called for honest elections. Dubbed the "Apostle of Democracy," he was elected president in 1911, but was hampered by a lack of practical political experience. He was ousted by a military revolt in 1913, and was then assassinated while in police custody.

November 20, 1917 - The first use of tanks in battle occurred at Cambrai, France, during World War I. Over 300 tanks commanded by British General Sir Douglas Haig went into battle against the Germans.

November 20, 1943 - The Battle of Tarawa began in the Pacific War as American troops attacked the Japanese on the heavily fortified Gilbert Islands. It took eight days for the 5th Amphibious Corps, 2nd Marine Division and the 27th Infantry Division to take Tarawa and the Makin Islands. Over 1,000 Americans were killed with 2,311 wounded. The Japanese lost 4,700 men.

November 20, 1945 - The Nuremberg War Crime Trials began in which 24 former leaders of Nazi Germany were charged with conspiracy to wage wars of aggression, crimes against peace, war crimes, and crimes against humanity.

November 20, 1947 - England's Princess Elizabeth married Philip Mountbatten. Elizabeth was the first child of King George VI and became Queen Elizabeth II upon the death of her father in 1952.

November 20, 1962 - The Cuban Missile Crisis concluded as President John F. Kennedy announced he had lifted the U.S. Naval blockade of Cuba stating, "the evidence to date indicates that all known offensive missile sites in Cuba have been dismantled."

November 20, 1980 - In China, Jiang Qing, the widow of Mao Zedong, went on trial with nine others on charges of treason.

November 20, 1992 - Fire erupted inside Queen Elizabeth's residence at Windsor Castle causing extensive damage.

Birthday - Swedish author Selma Lagerlof (1858-1940) was born in Varmland Province. She was a member of the Swedish Academy and in 1909 became the first woman to receive the Nobel Prize for literature.

Birthday - American astronomer Edwin Hubble (1889-1953) was born in Marshfield, Missouri. He pioneered the concept of an expanding universe. The Hubble Space Telescope was named in his honor. It was deployed from the Space Shuttle Discovery in 1990, allowing astronomers to see farther into space than they had ever seen from telescopes on Earth.

Birthday - Robert F. Kennedy (1925-1968) was born in Brookline, Massachusetts. He was the younger brother of President John F. Kennedy and served as his attorney general. Following the assassination of President Kennedy, Robert Kennedy became a U.S. Senator from New York. In 1968, he sought the Democratic nomination for president and appeared headed for victory, but was shot and killed by an assassin in Los Angeles, just after winning the California primary.

[50stateshalfmarathon]

Alexandra Bach-Wiedmuller Finishes the 50 States Half Marathon Challenge - From Brookline, MA

Congratulations to Alexandra Bach-Wiedmuller, from Brookline, Massachusetts, for finishing the 50 States Half Marathon Challenge! Alexandra has been a member of Fifty States Half Marathon Club for over nine years, since 2014.

[haqoverseas]

Online Sources for Biography Of Great People Of USA

There are many online sources for biographies of great people from the USA. These sources can help you learn more about the life and work of influential people from history, the Biography Of Great People, and understand how they influenced the community back then.

By exploring the biographies of great people and reading History of the USA, we can learn more about their accomplishments and how they have contributed to our community. We can also be inspired to follow in their footsteps and make our mark on the world.

Introducing The Great People Of USA & Their Biography

The United States of America is a country that is full of history and great people. From its founding to the present day, America has been home to countless individuals who have made a significant impact on the world. The most influential people from USA who left their impression on the world are:

George Washington

George Washington was born in 1732 in Virginia. He was a surveyor and a farmer before becoming a general in the Continental Army. Washington was the first U.S. president, serving from 1789 to 1797. He was a great leader and helped to create the United States of America. You can read Biography Of Great People to get more inspiration.

Abraham Lincoln

Abraham Lincoln was the 16th president of the United States and one of the most influential figures in American history. Abraham Lincoln is best known for leading the country through the Civil War and for his role in the Emancipation Proclamation. He is also one of the most mentioned persons in the History Of USA.

Franklin D. Roosevelt

Franklin D. Roosevelt was the 32nd president of the United States. He was elected to office in 1933 and served until he died in 1945. Roosevelt was a Democrat and is one of the most influential presidents in American history. He is best known for his New Deal policies, which helped to revive the economy during the Great Depression.

John F. Kennedy

In Brookline, Massachusetts, John F. Kennedy was born on May 29th, 1917. He was the second of nine children, and the first Kennedy to be born in the twentieth century. JFK's father was a successful businessman, and his mother was a socialite. JFK was educated at some of the most prestigious schools in the country, and he eventually attended Harvard University.

The history and biography of the United States of America is a story of greatness. From the founding fathers to modern-day leaders, America has been home to countless individuals who have made a significant impact on the world. In the future, there will no doubt be more great people who call America home and continue to make it a force for good in the world.

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