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cowgurrrl · 2 years ago

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Eat Your Young

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (platonic!Ellie Williams x reader)

Author’s note: I’m sorry (gif by @pedrohub)

Summary: “Thoe I walk through the valley in the shadow of death I fear no evil for I am the meanest motherfucker in the valley.” [4.1k!!!]

Warnings: episode 8 spoilers!! David (this is a warning in itself), Ellie in peril, canonical violence, bargaining, reader being a badass because I said so, a slight allusion to sa, PTSD symptoms, physical trauma, angst with a happy (slightly ambiguous) ending

Your body aches when you come to. Your face pulses with bruises, and you can feel broken ribs pushing against your lungs. Memories spark under your throbbing skull— waking up to the sound of the garage opening, Ellie yelling for help, the men, the horse going down. She should've woken you up earlier. She never should've tried to face them by herself. Your eyes blink open, and a hideous red carpet stares back at you. Rope ties your hands and ankles to the chair you're sitting on, and you look around for Ellie.

An empty room has never been as scary as it is right now. Your heartbeat quickens against sore ribs, and your breathing rattles loudly. Did they take you both? If so, where is she, and why isn't she with you? Did they find Joel? You think about how weak he was when you left, how he could barely hold his own knife, and how delirious he was. Your teeth grind together as you try to shrink back tears at the thought of him dying alone in that stupid basement. Your thoughts are interrupted by a door opening, and you look up enough to see the familiar man walking through the door.

David pauses by the swinging door once he sees you're awake. His eyes rake over your injuries with an alarming lack of care, and you shift in the chair. Your shoulders scream in pain, and you wince, but Ellie stays at the forefront of your mind.

"Where is she?" You ask. David grabs a chair from one of the tables and sets it in front of you. He's close enough that you can smell sweat and grime on him. You straighten up, making yourself as big as possible, as he sits across from you and stares at you intently.

"I was starting to worry about you," he says, and you let out a shaky breath. "How are you feeling?"

"Where the fuck is she?"

"She's alive. That's all you need to know right now."

"Let me see her."

"I'm afraid you're not in the position to be demanding things," he says as he rubs his hands together. You glance at the door he came through and make a mental note. She has to be through there. She would be able to hear you if you called for her. Does she know how close you are? "Are you her mother?"

"Fuck you."

"You're feisty just like she is. If you're not her mother, you must be the closest thing to it," he says. You try not to let his words settle over your bones. No mother would fail her child the way you've failed her, the way you're actively failing her. "She wouldn't tell me anything about the man, but she asked if you were okay. She cares a lot about you two."

"Is he here?" You hate how small you sound when you ask about him. David smirks, and your skin crawls.

"Not yet, no. We're looking for him now," he says. "My people are dead set on vengeance. It's a good thing I went out with them this morning. Otherwise, you'd both be dead."

"Lucky us."

"I know you didn't kill Alec, and I'm sorry you've traveled with such an angry man for so long. Once we find him, we'll bring him to justice, and you'll be free," he says like he's offering you a one-way ticket to Heaven. "We have room within our group. You and your daughter could live here safely. Start a new life."

"So, you want someone to pay for the loss of life? Is that it? You kidnapped me and a fucking kid to settle a score?"

"In a sense." He sighs. You bite the inside of your cheek as you think about Ellie. She has to be fucking terrified right now— alone, hungry, and maybe hurt. She's strong, though. She could find Joel and move him to a safer location. You've seen her hold her own before, and you trust her as much as you trust Joel. She doesn't need you, but she needs Joel.

"If you let her go, I'll settle your score. Whatever you need to end this shit. I'll call him off, and they'll leave and never come back." You decide. David sits back in his chair as he considers your offer, your sacrifice.

"You really think a man like him would just leave you here?"

"He'd do anything I asked him to," you say. "Just let her go. This isn't her fight, and I think you know that."

"Why do you care so much about him? He's a murderer."

"So am I. I've done really shitty things to stay alive, things I can never tell her about. I'm not a good person."

"But he is?"

"He's trying to be," you say, catching sight of the Bible sitting on a nearby table. You let yourself soften just enough. "Isn't that what you're all about? Salvation and redemption and sacrificing yourself for the greater good? That girl is his chance at redemption, maybe his last one. They need each other way more than they need me."

"You love him." It's not a question. It's a statement like pointing at the clouds gathering on the horizon and announcing there will be a storm— obvious and beyond a shadow of a doubt.

"Let them go. Please." You breathe. David sits silently, tapping his fingers together, before standing and wordlessly walking through the door he came in from. A tear falls from your eye, but you quickly wipe it on your shirt sleeve. You listen for voices as the building creaks against the force of the blizzard outside before twisting your wrists against the rope. The burn makes you grit your teeth, but the slow loosening is enough for you to continue.

You don't have a plan for getting out of here alive, only a plan for distracting David long enough for Ellie to escape and find Joel. They can take care of each other. They'll finish what we started. They'll be okay. You repeat it like a gospel, like a blind truth that you have to follow because you can't afford to think differently. You hope she understands that this is the last thing you want. That if you could've kept her safe forever, you would've. That abandoning her and Joel was never in the cards. You hope she knows that you love her.

Ellie shouts from the other room, but you can't make out her words. The silence that follows makes you sick to your stomach. You would take her nonstop talking over this eerie stillness. Your fingers search for a weak spot in the ropes as blood drips down your hands.

"Hey!" A gruff voice rings out from the other side of the room, and you freeze. One of David's men walks over to stand in front of you, a heavy semi-automatic weapon in his hands. When you look down the barrel, a gold bullet stares back at you, but you can't look away.

"Did you find him?" You ask. Something uncertain flickers behind his eyes, and that's enough of an answer. There's a chance, however minuscule, that he's alive and out there and trying to find both of you. A dull and dangerous ball of hope forms between your broken ribs. "We can end this here. If you just let us go, we can put this all behind us."

"And if I don't? You'll what? Kill us just like you killed Alec?"

"Oh, no. You'd be lucky to die as fast as he did," you say. "After what you did to her, you really think I'd just let you die that easily? I'll rip all your fucking teeth out of your skull and feed them to you before I even think about putting a bullet in your head." Terror flashes across his face, but Ellie's screams keep it growing. The man in front of you turns toward the sound, giving you a window to slip your hands from the loose ropes and grab at his gun. You push it up and away from him, a stray bullet singing through the air and hitting the ceiling. He shoves you back, and the chair breaks as you hit the ground so hard that you see stars.

David rushes in from the other room, blood splattering his clothes— her blood. He looks pissed as he assesses the situation, holding his hand tightly. "I offer you a home here, and this is what you do," Your molars buzz as molten rage rolls off you. David lunges at you, grabbing your face with one hand and holding up the other so you can see his broken finger. You try to squirm away from him, but his grip is tight enough for your jaw to creak with the threat of it shattering. "Look what she fucking did to me! You think you're going to get any sympathy now?" His breath is hot on your face as he shouts, but Ellie's blood is the only thing you care about. You spit in his eyes and wrestle out of his grasp, reaching for a piece of splintered wood. A warning shot fires by your ear before you can lift it, and splitting, ringing pain slices through your brain.

Your heart beats in your face as you try to army crawl further away, shaking your head hard like it will release the muffled pain. A swift kick to your ribs knocks you down, and you roll onto your back, pressing on the broken rib as you try to breathe. David and David's Bitch (you honestly don't care to learn his name, and that title is more fitting anyway) stare down at you with their guns in your direction. David tsks as he steps forward to stand over you, too close for your comfort. You move to put space between you, but he kicks you again. You gasp and bite your tongue hard enough to taste blood.

"I can't wait for your guy to show up so he can see just how pathetic you actually are." He threatens and you laugh, spitting blood.

"Trust me, he's the least of your fucking problems right now." You say, planting your hands behind you to push yourself off the floor. The butt of a pistol cracks across your skull before you can get far.

"No!" Ellie's voice jolts you awake. Your vision is blurry, and the throbbing pain in your body makes you nauseous, but none of that matters as much as she does. Her screams are the stuff of nightmares, helpless and scared out of her fucking mind. You push off the floor, forcing yourself to walk toward the sound until your foot stops moving. You look down to find a rope tied around your right foot, connecting you to one of the pillars in the middle of the room.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." You say as you bend down to try pulling it off of you. There's no time. She needs you now. Tears form in your eyes as the rope burns the skin around your ankle, drawing blood. You look around for a knife, glass, anything to help you cut it but find nothing. She's stopped screaming, but that doesn't do anything to stop you from trying to get to her. The blood dripping into your socks makes the rope slippery and stains your hands when you finally get it off. You stand so fast that you get a headrush but don't stop until Ellie's body collides with yours. She's covered in blood and almost screams until she realizes who you are.

"I... I thought. I heard..." She says, clutching your shirt in between her hands. You shake your head as you grab her and run to the doors. They barely budge as you try to push them open, and Ellie grabs your hand, running into the kitchen. She's shaking, and her hair is a mess as she looks around for something to fight with.

"Ellie, we need to go. We can't stay here." You say as she grabs a smoldering log.

"Cover me." She says, barely looking at you before rushing back out to hide near the door. You grab a knife and duck under a nearby table as David walks in with a bloody cleaver. You grip the knife closer, hoping to slash his Achilles tendon as he walks by when Ellie pops up and throws the log at David's head. The curtain behind him catches fire as you try to track her movements. She stays low and quiet, just like Joel taught her, and you have half a mind to be proud of her for listening.

"There's no way out," David calls as the fire travels up the curtain to the ceiling. He's pacing calmly away from you as the building starts to go up in flames around us. "All the doors are locked, and I have the keys. Nobody is coming to save you, Ellie." You move to the kitchen once his back is turned to you, hoping to find a bottle or bigger knife to distract him. Ellie meets your eyes across the room, and you nod at her, a silent reassurance that you will not let anything happen to her. You find a half-full bottle of wine and quickly dump it down the drain as David rambles about something. You stay low as you look out the kitchen window and throw the bottle to the other side of the room, the last bits of alcohol making the flames grow bigger. You duck when David turns toward the sound and walk back to the swinging door, waiting for the right moment to come out.

A piece of ceiling falls in front of the door, and flames lick under it, just as you hear Ellie stab David. You turn to jump through the kitchen window when one of David's guys enters the room and locks eyes with you. You've got to be fucking kidding me. You swing the knife at him, slicing his arm as he brings his gun up to shoot. The long shotgun pushes at your chest and sends you backward as blood pours from his arm. You hit the edge of the counter hard but stay up and swinging. The man grunts right in your face, and the fire is tearing the building apart, but all you hear is Ellie. She's screaming louder than you've ever heard, and she's calling for you, for help. You swing the knife once more and hit something squishy that gives. The man sobs in pain, and you dig the knife further into his eye until he stops twitching.

Once he hits the ground, you jump through the kitchen window and dive onto the floor below, fire burning your arms as you do. You grip the knife closer to you and stand until you see the full sight of Ellie and David. She's on top of him and hitting him over and over and over again with his cleaver. Blood splatters across her face and clothes as David becomes less of a body and more of a stain. You don't try to stop her. You just drop your knife and slowly walk into her line of sight with your hands up. By the time she stops raising her arms to hack the body, she's crying and breathing hard enough for you to hear her over the flames.

"Ellie," you call, and she jumps like she forgot you were there. The look in her eyes now is so different from the one she gave you earlier when you tried to tell her nothing terrible would happen. It's familiar and heart breaking. She's shaking when you reach for her and pull her off of David. "We need to go, okay? We gotta get out of here." You wrap your arms around her and shield her eyes as you walk past the bodies she left in her wake.

The snow is a welcome relief from the smothering smoke and fire when you leave the building. Ellie stays tucked under your arm, letting you take her weight as you move toward the blue water, away from David and whatever god failed you. Her shoulders fall slack until a pair of arms wrap around us, and she screams again. Your grip on her tightens as she cries and kicks at whoever is trying to grab you. She nearly falls to her knees as the arms spin her around, taking her away from you.

"Hey, look," Joel's voice is soft as he holds her face. You let him take her and take a step back, trying to process that he's alive. "It's me. It's me. It's okay."

"He tried to..." Ellie mumbles, and you have to turn away from them, vomit burning in your throat. You swallow hard as tears fall down your face and do your best to hold your sobs. "He tried to" is a sentence you've heard too many times but never from someone as young as Ellie. He tried to, and you were right there. He tried to, and you couldn't do anything. He tried to, and she was screaming for you. If David weren't already dead and burning, you'd go back and rip his fucking spine out. He tried to.

Joel saying your name makes you turn to see Ellie wrapped in his jacket, a faraway look in her eyes. You take her backpack from him and go to his other side to snake your arm around his back. He's shaking either from fear or pain. You don't know that it matters. Together, you work to get somewhere safe, helping to carry the weight of the past three months silently.

You found an empty house a few miles away from the resort and let Joel clean Ellie up in the bathroom. She clung to him the whole way here, trembling bloody hands wrapped around his middle. The cut on her nose is gnarly, and she has slices on her fingers from gripping the knife she used to kill David. Other than that, she's more mentally scarred than anything. As soon as she was clean and fed with twenty-year-old Spaghetti-O's, she fell asleep on Joel's chest, her bandaged hand resting over his heart as they lay on the floor together. The words you said to David while begging for their lives surround you. They need each other way more than they need me.

You feel like shit now that the adrenaline has died down. There are burns on your forearms, cuts on your hands, bruises swelling your face, and you're pretty sure the hearing in your left ear is permanently fucked. Your head pounds and your ribs twinge in pain when you breathe too deeply, but it's nothing compared to the screams echoing in your mind. They'll probably embed in your brain and repeat themselves for the rest of your life. You've never heard her scream like that— deep in her chest and desperate, like she was praying for someone to hear her and help, to kill the men who put their hands on her and then some.

He tried to.

Joel calls your name softly, but you can't turn to face him. Your eyes stay on the front door, the cool metal of your gun warming under your palm. "You should sleep," Joel murmurs as he puts a comforting hand on your back. He's careful not to jostle Ellie as he rubs circles into your skin. You shake your head as your fingers twitch against the gun.

"I was asleep when she," your voice catches in your throat, and you wipe at your eyes. "I didn't even hear her leave. I can't…."

"She's safe, and she's alive. That's the most important thing."

"I was so fucking scared, Joel. I could hear her screaming, and I couldn't do anything to help her," you sniffle as he tugs at your shirt, making you turn to look at him. His eyes are watery and sad, but he doesn't stop you. "The fucking apocalypse happened, and the scariest thing in the world is still a man who thinks he can take whatever he wants."

"I know, baby."

"I can still hear his voice. I-” He pulls you closer and gently takes the gun out of your hands. Slowly, he makes you lie beside him until you relax and use his bicep as a pillow. You're close enough to count the cuts on Ellie's sleeping face, and you almost wiggle away. Joel feels it and quickly kisses your forehead, his grip on you tightening enough to make you stay.

"Let me lay with my girls," he whispers before you can protest. "Please." You sigh and curl into him, wrapping your arm around his stomach, so your fingers can graze Ellie's arm. He traces patterns into your back as you count Ellie's breaths. Every rise and fall of her chest soothes your anxiety just a little more. Her nose scrunches in her sleep, and she mumbles something as her grip on Joel gets tighter. He shushes her and kisses her forehead, whispering, "we're right here, baby girl," into her temple. Then, probably without even realizing it, she moves her hand until it covers yours, her little fingers squeezing you like she's trying to decide if you're real. You take her hand in yours and squeeze back.

It’s moments like these that make you wonder how you could've gone so long without her. It's moments like these that make you wonder how you could ever go back to the life you had before. It's moments like these that give you a glimpse, a torturous peek, into what could've been. If you had met Joel earlier and had been faster and less guarded, maybe your paths may have crossed sooner. Maybe all those people you loved who died would still be alive somewhere. Maybe nothing would've changed at all.

"I'm so scared of losing her," You tell him, your eyes still stuck to Ellie's face. Joel takes a deep breath and nods. "When did she stop being cargo?"

"She was never just cargo."

"What are we gonna do?"

"We're gonna get her to the Fireflies. They'll do whatever they need, and then, I don't know. We could take her back to Jackson and get her settled. Let her have an actual childhood." He says. A regular, ordinary life with them sounds idyllic, something reserved for people way better than you are.

"What if something bad happens with the Fireflies?"

"Then, we do whatever it takes to keep her alive. Either way, we're gonna finish this."

"Whatever it takes." You echo.

"You should sleep," he says. Your body agrees with him even if you're hesitant. "I'll take the first watch. I've probably had enough sleep to last me, at least, a couple of hours." You stare at him to make sure he's okay to stay up before nodding. You squeeze Ellie's hand again and smoosh your cheek against Joel's shoulder, perfectly wrapped up in both of them. Joel goes back to rubbing your back to lull you to sleep, and all you can hear is their breathing and the birds singing to each other outside. Fireflies, ruthless FEDRA officers, Infected, and religious cults are far enough for you to trust that everything is okay.

"Joel," you say quietly. He hums, and you push yourself up on your elbow to look down at him. "I love you. I don't think I ever told you that, but I want you to know."

"You never had to. I always knew," he says, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight. "I love you, too." You want to say more. You want to say, "I'm sorry it took me so long to admit it. I'm sorry if it's too late. I'm sorry for falling in love with you in this world that makes love a weakness," but you don't. You lean down and kiss him like you've done hundreds of times and try not to think about what will happen tomorrow.

The only thing you care about is the two people you're curled up within an old, mildewy basement in the middle of fucking Colorado because they are your world now. And nothing will take your world away ever again.

🍓

#the last of us #ellie williams #joel and ellie #joel miller x reader #the last of us x reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller the last of us #joel tlou #ellie the last of us #tlou part 1 #tlou fic #tlou angst #joel miller angst #ellie williams angst

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georg-prime · 10 days ago

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On Agatha All Along eps 8-9

I'm feel about the same as @p-taryn-dactyl's answer and @ennn in this post.

But yeah I'm really disappointed that we didn't have a full Agatha backstory. Nothing about why her mother was so bent on thinking she was evil from birth, nor anything about her and Rio's beginnings. I do appreciate they took the time to show us her life with her son, to really show how desperate she was to keep him alive and how she just embraced the killings right after her double heartbreak (losing her son that way, Rio taking him while she was asleep etc). But then it took time from other things. So I hope there's still a possibility we learn more things about her while a chatty ghost but we'll, this was supposed to be her show first, next time we see her it probably won't be centered on her.

Also not really happy about is how they really went there with Billy having created the Road. Not only I fear the fighting between fans now (I sure as hell wish one day I could be in a fandom were people wouldn't be aweful to each other or to actors/crew members etc, like wishing death on people wth!!? or even on beloved characters that's just mean), but also it means that they used this opportunity of introducing him by already kind of giving him the guilt and trauma from the Mother arc in Young Avengers 2. So that means they did this, taking it away from being a YA story, and either never having him do that again and so not really exploring the full "reality bending powers so huge they can alter the world and he isn't controlling them yet but his friends and love are here with him and he is the Demiurge" story, or they would make him do that again in some other story and I think that would be worse... Nobody would need such a plot a third time after this and Wandavision. I understand, "parallels" and all, but no 3rd.

Not much infos about Death too, I was hoping for at least some answers to my questions here. There will be other occasions (but I don't have much hope on this front, I fear other writers would more likely just make her a joke character, to just be there looking sexy and weird, flirting with some dude, without much depth 🤔).

Then Alice.

I can appreciate the bitter sweet realization that she did indeed fulfill her purpose at least once. But ugh, a white woman who already lived very very long, and it was a very long psychopathic life, got saved then while the Asian quite young for a witch and very kind person, who barely got her chance at a good life freed from her curse, dies protecting her? Not a good look for this show. I do enjoy seeing Agatha being the equivalent of a pirate, just enjoying life doing crimes, free in a patriarchal world, but not at this kind of cost and without real consequences (she'll get a chance at life back surely).

I'm just glad that at least Jen got a second chance. After having suffered for a whole century as a Black woman, so not exactly having much rights for a big part of it (they didn't think this through when they cast her I bet, it should have been at least mentioned), alone and with nothing to her name, because of said white woman - I was worried they also go there and it would be part of the 'haha it was Agatha all along " thing, but hoped they won't... anyway that also sting man.

I guess I'm also disappointed about the lack of answer to Billy's question if he is Billy or William, and no apparently recovering much memories, but I'm guessing they might tell that story an other time. Maybe.

Basically I did like this show, it had a lot of good things, awesome visuals and costumes, good directing & cinematography, great cast, interesting characters. But it is super disturbing to me how writers don't seem to understand they can't just kill a bunch of characters they made the viewers love, so easily/quickly/kind of cheaply. The only death here who is really acceptable imo was Lilia's, it was indeed the choice of a long lived person who saved several people in doing so and will have several long lasting effects (getting Agatha rid of the Salem Seven, giving advice and his book to Billy, having Jen trust and care for other witches again). Sharon being played for laughs is now in fact a serious guilty memory to Billy, even though it's an accident in this situation in his part and very much Agatha's fault (she brought the 'civilian' there, what was she going to do to her anyway after killing the other 3 like she was originally planning, just let her go? I somehow doubt it 😅), and while he already feels guilty about how he and Tommy are still alive, plus the whole Alice's case, that's kind of cruel frankly.

Anyway, I'm still going to hope that Secret Wars will bring us Alice from an alternate reality, that they don't screw up the Young Avengers too much, and that the lessons about optimizing a show/movie's budget with good practical effects and art and time, will be learned.Next generation of writers please be less homicidal with the characters. Keep the open mindedness of this generation when it comes to queer stories and the concept of intricate plots of the 2000-2010's dark area, add the low stakes fun adventures of the previous generations, and let's try and be more mindful of the racism, I see this gen is trying but they don't get it yet clearly.We'll get there 🤞

#Agatha All Along #Alice Wu Gulliver #Jennifer Kale #MCU Wiccan #Agatha Harkness #Rio Vidal #Marvel

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theparadoxmachine · 1 year ago

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I need to explain why this man means so much to me.

I grew up in the 90s, actually a little too young to have watched him the first go around. But growing up, I feel like every show I watched had a storyline where the main character has to learn the lesson Be Yourself. And that's a fine message. But those characters were specifically designed to appeal to a mass audience of kids. They were everyman style characters. And frankly, it's easier to Just Be Yourself when you're an everyman and the weirdest thing about you is that you still play with Barbies in middle school (everyone did this I think) I liked those characters fine too. There's nothing wrong with Lizzie MacGuire or Ginger Foutley. But they weren't me. The characters that most resembled me were usually in episodes where the lesson was Don't Judge a Book By Its Cover. See it's a lot harder to swallow the lesson of "Just be yourself! Give people a chance to know the real you!" When you're weird. And I was WEIRD.

I now realize that I am in fact a traumatized, mentally ill neurodivergent queer woman, but back then I was a Weird Girl. So yeah good for you Lizzie, you're not getting bullied for ribbon dancing but what were my peers supposed to do with someone like me? I was reading Poe at the age of 8. I was quiet and liked fire and wanted to be a war goddess while being afraid of everything. The family joke was that I was actually from another planet. I was processing trauma I didn't know I had while listening to John Williams and Fleetwood Mac while everyone else was listening to Hansen and the Spice Girls. I loved reading about curses and cryptids and medieval torture devices. No amount of just be yourself messages from cartoon preteens was going to cut it.

But then there was Pee-wee. Pee-wee was WEIRD. His entire thesis statement was weirdness. He was the Patron Saint of Weirdos. He looked me dead in my eyes and, as Paul said on Portlandia, told me BEING WEIRD IS NOT A CRIME. When someone with a pet pterodactyl and a talking armchair tells you it's ok to be yourself, you fucking believe them. He walked the weird walk and took as many weirdos along with him as were willing to join him. And there were many it turns out.

Would Pee-wee think my love of horror and death was weird? Probably. Would he think it was weird that I make friends with moths and wasps and spiders and snakes? Yeah. But you better believe he'd take one look at my gothy apartment and put me right at the top of his list of people to call when it was time to decorate for Halloween. I'd have been on the guest list for his Halloween parties every year. Because being weird wasn't something that needed to be forgiven or tolerated. Being weird is a GOOD thing.

I have had such a strange emotional journey lately but where I've landed now is this. I'm not sure I can live for myself right now. But I'm going to do my best to stick around. For him. For Pee-wee and for Paul. Because I know he'd want me to. He'd want me to live and be weird and rejoice in my weirdness.

And he was always there. During bouts of depression and hardship, through all my health problems. His natural soft speaking voice always resonated at the perfect frequency to calm me down during my anxiety attacks. When I was stuck at home with spinal fluid draining into my brain, I played Pee-wee's Big Adventure, because it made me happy and because the dvd always restarted without prompting so I never had to get up if I lost the remote amongst my messed up sheets.

I met him in 2017. I pushed back all my social anxiety and went alone to my first convention because he was going to be there. Doing the terrible math, this would have been around the time he probably got diagnosed. I will be forever glad I went. I was speechless but I shook his hand and held it and tried to thank him, to convey without words how and why he's one of my favorite people in the whole world. The line for the meet and greet was over 2 hours long. He had to leave in the middle to get something to eat. He went to every single person in line and apologized and promised he would be back. I regret I'll never get to bring him muffins. But he was by all accounts one of the sweetest men in the world and I'm going to spend a lot of time missing him. And rejoicing in my weirdness. Because being weird is not a crime. Because he'd want me to. Because weirdos have to stick together.

And given the people I met at that convention, I think it's safe for me to paraphrase the words of Blanche Devereaux here and say, if love can help you wherever you are, you've got it. More than you could ever know.

I love you and I miss you.

#paul reubens #pee wee herman #tw suicidal ideation #tw depression #this hurts so badly #i want to get my work done and go home but i had to get this out #pardon any errors i am upset and i am on mobile #i think i may take a mental health day this week #even in this post I've toned down the weird shit i was into as a kid #i was fascinated by the age of sail #particularly disciplinary measures aboard ships #for some reason #i was reading creepy urban legends about mysterious death cults while I was still in elementary school #i needed help but also someone to say there's nothing wrong with you #nothing wrong with being you #but it's hard when people say one thing and treat you another

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hauntingmothgirl · 3 years ago

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To Hell and Back PART 3

Hi so a lot of people liked that last part, thank you for the support, it really made me smile and made my day. If you have any suggestions/requests or want me to write a specific scene then feel free to ask, my dms are open, but for now here’s part 3! This series spans across the ending of season 4 if it wasn’t already clear enough.

✰

The flight to Windsor, Ontario, Canada felt longer than it should have. Trying to avoid Spencer’s prying and profiling eyes was harder than it seemed. Even staring at her book wasn’t enough to keep him from noticing how long she had been on a single page. And the looks the team were now giving to a certain profiler who seemed to be studying every movement of his co-worker were hard to ignore.

By the time the plane had touched down, Y/n had cleaned up her space and was sitting on the edge of her seat, book in hand and satchel across her chest. As soon as it was clear to leave Y/n was out of her seat, mumbling a thank you to a flight attendant and hurrying down the steep steps. The normal cars they had assigned to them were directly outside, waiting for the team. Flinging an SUV door open and hurrying into the back, ducking behind the headrest, she tried her best to see over her hiding spot to check if the hour ride to R.C.M.P. Headquarters was going to be one filled with torture, or one filled with awkward silence.

She was just about to sit up, realizing how idiotic she looked and how stupid she would feel if someone spotted her when an uncoordinated Reid tried to hurry down the steps without looking, well… hurried. A grimace settled onto his face as he squinted through the sunlight trying to spot her. Rossi was next behind him, taking slow steps. Clapping a hand on his back and leaning in, Rossi muttered something in Reid’s ear, smiled and then started for the car. Reid’s demeanor shifted, his shoulders went stiff and then relaxed, his expression softened and then fell. He took off for the next car.

Y/n sat upright and stuffed her nose into her book as Rossi entered the car, pulling his seatbelt on before finally starting the car. “You can sit in the front if you like, you know?” He offered, looking up in the mirror to meet her eyes. Hesitating, she dropped her book and moved to the door. Settling into the front passenger seat, she forced herself to keep her eyes forward. The drive started out fine at first, Rossi didn’t try to make conversation and let the silence flow comfortably around them. After the first 20 minutes of driving and staring down endless highways, Y/n had grown restless and drew her book back to her, in need of something to occupy her mind. As she read her eyes grew heavy, sore, and her head fell forward slowly. Every so often she fought against closing her eyes fully and instead found herself sinking further and further into her seat. By the time she had woken up, the drive was over.

✰

“Come on Sunshine,” a voice laughed near her ear, startling her out of her sleep. Craning her now sore neck to peer up at the person who stood with her door open, trying to unbuckle her now, she rubbed her eyes. “Have a good nap?” He chuckled, taking her satchel from out of the backseat. She grimaced, taking his hands to help lift herself up, steadying her balance. “Where are we, Derek?” She asked, taking a look around. “Headquarters, they dropped your bags off at the hotel, told me to give you your room key for tonight. You were knocked out for a while, Rossi didn’t wanna wake you when we got to the hotel. Don’t worry, we didn’t go through any of your belongings,” he added with a smirk. Looking up at the headquarters, she smoothed her shirt and pulled her into a ponytail, trying to look decent, or at least as if she hadn’t been asleep for the past hour. “Thank you,” she mumbled, taking her satchel from his hands. “No problem.”

A thought popped into her head as she pulled the satchel onto her shoulder, “Aren't you supposed to be with Prentiss?” she asked, twisting to look for the other profiler. “Yes, mother,” he chuckled, “I’m heading there now, but the teams inside and I'm apparently on wakeup duty. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a job to do,” he answered, walking backwards towards another SUV. “Drive safe,” she called after him, turning to the big building as he called back, “You know it.”

The building was big and red. Bigger on the inside than she anticipated, multiple floors, lots of bustle and busy people. The faint smell of peppermint and air freshener wafted to her nose. As she entered the building she caught sight of the rest of her team, giving a small smile as she started towards them. “Morning sleepyhead,” JJ cooed. Her stomach did flip flops as she came to a stop in front of them, locking eyes with Spencer. “Very funny,” she retorted as the team started to set a stride.

A small elevator sat at the far end of the room, a door titled, “Stairs Access,” stood just across from it. On any normal day Y/n would’ve chosen the stairs, she had always had a problem with the close quarters of an elevator, the uncertainty and danger of such an unstable device had always left her off put. But a long way to the ninth floor on the stairs would not only be physically tiring, but would most definitely be accompanied by a certain doctor to her left who had been dying to talk to her alone. Still, the team became increasingly interested when Y/n stepped in with them. “Someone’s getting brave, huh?” JJ chuckled, “Just too tired to deal with the stairs today.”

The hallway the doors opened to was short and led out to a giant office full of people. Tan walls extended on each side, the tiles on the floor reflected the lights above them. A man met Rossi in the entrance of the room, exchanging pleasantries and introducing the team, it was impossible not to notice the way Spencer’s gaze kept flickering to hers. Two red offices stood at the far end of the room and the room to the right of them. Walking in between the desks and making his way to one of the rooms, Jeff led the team, “I've got a victim board and timelines set up on monitors in the conference room. Anything you need, you've got the run of the place.”

“We appreciate it,” Rossi replied lightly.” “Don’t thank me, Thank the unsub. He's the one that put you all in charge.”

Something about that last remark hit Y/n the wrong way, wrinkling her nose in agitation. JJ excused herself to go talk to Garcia as Y/n took in the room. A long conference table sat in the middle of the room, six chairs pushed into it. A tv hung on the left wall, faces of the victims littering the screen. Rossi took in the site, then moved around the table to make room for Reid and Y/n. Following Reid, she took a second to go over the tv soon realizing that she had already seen the pictures in the file JJ had supplied her with. Realizing that everyone’s backs were to them, Spencer made the quick decision to steal a look at her. Turning on her heel to walk away from the screen, her eyes reached his, the pleading look on his face was enough to make her stomach turn. Guilt flooded her, all he probably wants is his best friend back, this isn’t fair to him. Did I ruin our friendship? Turning around to take her place next to Rossi. “You believe that he killed all these people?” Reid asked, his eyes turning back to the screen, “Fits the profile,” Officer Jeff responded absentmindedly. “How so?” Rossi asked, clearly quizzing his former student, everyone in this room knew of the Unsubs history, but Jeff answered nonetheless. “He got a recent physical trauma. Could be a stressor. Wide disparity of victims. No bodies. Possible border cross. Two entirely different terrains,” He paused, “To pull that off, you'd have to be smart, you'd have to be organized, mobile, physical.” His missing leg ran through Y/n‘s mind once again, before the accident this all could’ve been possible, but now? After such physical trauma? It didn't make sense.

“Military background gives you all that,” Rossi finished for him.

“Exactly,” Officer Bedwell hummed.

“It appears as though he clusters his victims into men, then women, and then back to men again.” Spencer’s voice raised in tone, confusion heavy in his voice.

“What does that tell you?” Officer Bedwell asked.

“At the moment, nothing.”

They were informed that he hadn’t contacted family, nor a lawyer and was awaiting an interrogation. Hotch was the last person to talk, deducing that since this man had contacted the FBI, he would want to speak to whoever he believed was the most in charge.

The interrogation room was dimly lit, only one light directly overhead, the room behind the glass was filled with two officers, Rossi, Reid and Y/n. Crammed into the few chairs there were, Y/n watched, her brows furrowed, as Hotch sat down at the table. William was a tall man, broad shoulders and muscular arms, he sat in silence, a detached look sewn onto his features. A black goatee rested above his lips, his hair was cropped in a buzz cut, understandable due to his military background. His body shows his training too, he sat straight up, shoulders back, hands on his thighs, his legs slightly spread. The pinnacle of perfect posture.

It was silent as Hotch announced himself as the behavioral analysis unit chief from the FBI. William’s face didn't change as his eyes lifted to Hotch’s, “You’re here to analyze me.” This wasn’t a question, but a statement. “No, I’m here to take your confession and find out where you dumped your victims,” Hotch corrected. Y/n could see the technique Hotch was using beginning to form, diminishing any hope of negotiation. Setting himself in charge in the room and demanding the attention, making it clear that this was Hotch’s room, not Heightower’s, taking away any slimmer of wiggle room around the conversation. He continued, “Or are you wasting my time?”

Y/n’s boss was always great at keeping his voice firm but somewhat monotone when speaking to unsubs, not letting emotion intercede unless it was directly needed. “I gave you names, I gave you dates.” William bounced around the subject, his voice low and gravely, as if he hadn’t spoken in hours. Hotch reigned the conversation back onto topic easily, “You didn’t give me a dump site.” It was silent for a moment, as if an unspoken staring contest had started, the Unit Chief’s jaw was set, William was withholding information and he wasn’t intending on opening up anytime soon. “You were a sergeant,” Hotch started, again not a question, a statement intended to gain an emotional reaction, “You led troops, probably lost men.” Y/n’s eyes flickered to William’s just as he let out a hesitant, “a few.”

“What would their parents feel if they didn’t know whether their sons were dead or alive?” Hotch tried. The tension shifted uncomfortably. A cord was struck, “Don’t lecture me on notifying families, I’ve been on those doorsteps,” as William spoke his voice rose slightly from the whisper it had started out as. He’s protective of these men, his angry tone shows Hotch’s words affect him, why is he trying so hard to make us not see that? “No one cares about those people, why should I?” His head shakes as he says it, even his own body is rejecting the words he’s saying, subconsciously disagreeing with them. Hotch’s words have caught him off guard, this technique is making him emotional.

Rossi’s voice interrupts Y/n’s thoughts, “Here we go.”

“What do you mean?” An officer to the right of Y/n’s chair asks, he leans against the interrogation window, unknowingly making her scoot her legs closer to herself. He mindlessly takes up so much of the little space beside her that she cringes uncomfortably away from him. “An interrogation doesn’t really start until you get the first lie,” Rossi finishes, so he picked up on it too. Hotch’s voice silences all of them as he resumes the conversation through the glass, “See that’s just the thing William, you were out there every night. You took their photographs, you checked off their names in a notebook,” William remains blank as he mutters, “So?” Hotch grimaces at the answer and then continues, “Your behavior was more like a protector, like someone in the army doing a bed check.” If Hotch’s words resonate with anything at all to him, he doesn’t show it and lets him continue. “You’ve gone to a lot of trouble to confess to a crime you didn’t commit,” Hotch accuses.

Suddenly all reservation in William is gone, his lips quiver as he spits the words out angrily, “The folks on the street, did they tell you people were missing?” It's like he’s trying to prove their absence rather than his own guilt.

“If my team is here there are cases we are not working on, you are wasting our time.”

“10 people dead, huh?” Swallowing harshly, scowling, challenging Hotch, “That’s not enough for you?”

“I’ve watched the tape of you at the border cross over and over again, you wait until every guard is out of the booth before you drive into it,” Hotch raises his voice, as he leans closer to the table, “if you wanted to kill people you had your chance.”

William’s voice is booming now, his face enraged, “Are you investigating these murders or not?!” His whole body shakes violently as silence fills the room. “So that’s what this is all about?” Hotch questions, “Making sure we investigate?” What a way to do so. “If you thought people were being killed you should’ve gone to the police in Detroit.” Another shudder rips through William, “I already did,” his voice is low as it break. “3 times. They told me the kind of people I was looking for disappeared.” His voice trembled, the light reflecting off tears in his eyes, “They said that’s the way life on the street works.” Silence enveloped them again.

Struggling to keep his composure, he enunciated every word, “Do. You. Believe. The. People. I. Showed. You. Are. Missing?”

“I believe it's possible.”

Rage wracked through his frame once again, “Don’t give me a political answer!”

Hotch hesitated, giving himself a moment before he responded, “Tell me about what happened the night before the border cross.” William opened his mouth and then shut it before starting, “I did a head count,” he began. “Every night for the past month, like we do in Baghdad. That night I saw a boy named Charles wasn’t where he usually camped down.” The mention of a boy sends a pang of pain through Y/n’s chest, wondering how old the boy must have been. Hopefully he had meant a young man, rather than a young boy. The idea of a child in the case was a sore subject. Swallowing the hard lump in her throat, she hoped she hadn't shown any visible signs of discomfort.

“So I made another pass.”

“He didn’t turn up?”

“By the morning I knew he was gone,” another scowl had set on his face, though this time it wasn’t targeted at the man across from him. “William,” Hotch started, sympathy thick in his voice, “People don’t do what you did out of honor.” He paused, “They do it out of love.” William’s lack of a response was enough to confirm their suspicions. “Who were you looking for on the streets every night.” His brows furrowed as William prepared himself before continuing, “I got home from Iraq, first thing my mother told me was that my baby sister Lee was on the streets.” Y/n’s heart sunk, with the way he’d been acting there was no way this story was going to end well. Rossi must have noticed it too because out of the corner of Y/n’s eye she watched him shake his head slightly, turning away from the glass before coming back to it, exhaling roughly.

William continued, “She asked me to find her.”

“But you couldn’t?” Hotch pried.

“I managed once. Brought her home, we got her fed.” His eyes fell, staring longingly as his voice broke yet again, “She even wore my dog tags. For good luck.” Y/n closed her eyes for a moment, sighing. No matter how long you were on this job, no matter what horrors you’d seen, it never gets easier to hear from the relatives of people who’ve gone missing. The team was evidence of that, Rossi’s head was to the side, face contorted in uncomfort. The officers sat quietly, staring at their laps. Though Hotch had to remain indifferent in order to keep control of the room, his face was no longer hard and stern. While he held his lips together in a tight line, a deep sadness sat behind his eyes, something only his colleagues who’d worked with him for so long would pick up on.

“Two weeks later, she slipped back onto the streets.” Composure was no longer an option for William, his breathing came out in short, quick breaths as his chest visibly shook. The tears spilled over, “That was it,” he barely managed to let out, another shaky breath in.

“William, you’ve got so much information about the other potential victims, why not Lee?” Hotch asked, though this was a raw subject, it was still vital to know. Blinking rapidly in order to control the tears and reign his emotions back in, Heightower replied, “I hid it in a spare tire, in my car.” That explained why none of the team had any knowledge about Lee, organized and brilliant, William had intentionally left her out of the files he created for us. He wouldn't have even been considered had the officers known how close he really was to one of the victims, Y/n pondered. “I needed to wait until I was sure,” while the tears had stopped and his breathing was now in control, his hands still shook slightly under the table as he finished, “that you were on board.”

That was all the team needed to hear, Frankie excused herself from the room. Walking down the hall as she assembled her thoughts. The car would definitely be in evidence somewhere, how they hadn’t managed to find the new piece of the puzzle was surprising, confused she wandered the hall trying to find the stairs.

The sound of the stairwell door opening made Y/n falter. She’d reached a platform between the set of stairs, eyes glancing to the door at the end of the platform that would take her to the hallway. Stairwells were where most assaults happened, but due to the fact that she was in a police department, she pushed that thought to the back of her head and continued to the next set of stairs. It wasn’t until she heard the pitter patter of quick footsteps behind her, that she realized she should have taken her chances with the elevator.

“ Y/n?” A pang of dread ran through her body in slow waves. Turning slowly on her heel, her eyes met Dr. Reid’s. His face was contorted, his eyes fixed on the ground, then fluttered back up to hers. “I-”

“Did I miss something on Heightower?” His eyebrows furrowed, confusion making it’s way on to his features.

“No- I just-”

“Does this have anything to do with this case or a previous one?”

“No-”

“So this is not work related?”

“No, it’s not, but-”

“Then we should not be having this conversation.” Starting back down the stairs, he was next to her in a moment. “I know that, but the other night I didn’t mean to make it seem like-” “Spencer,” her nose scrunched up in uncomfort. “Please, don't do this.” Another flight of steps was through. At this point she was counting them down in her head.

“Y/n, I wasn’t trying to hurt you, it just seemed like the worst time and I didn’t want you to-” “Spencer, please.” One more flight to go.

“Okay but give me a moment to-”

“Spencer!”

Blinking back tears, she tried to reason with him. “That was the single most humiliating thing I’ve ever done. Just having to look you in the eyes right now is unbelievably painful. Knowing that our friendship will probably never go back to the way it was is killing me and you bringing attention to it every five seconds is making it worse,” she rambled. “I mean for God’s sake Morgan won't stop trying to profile me and Hotch looks at me like a kicked puppy. I can tell everyone here is second guessing my decision to come back and I’m already having a hard enough time proving that I’m okay without your worried glances making everything worse so please. Give me some space, some time before I have to have this conversation with you.”

Spencer’s eyes flickered down, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”

“I just can’t do this right now Spencer.” Opening the door and entering the lobby she made her way to an officer, flashing her badge and asking where the evidence storage room was.

✰

okay that’s part 3, again, i hope it didn’t disappoint. and if it did then, again, that's chill too. tagged everyone who wanted a part 3. i know it was pretty long but i wanted to get a lot of the dialogue out of the way so i can focus on the reader and spencer in the next couple parts, rather than just the case, although that is pretty important. thank yall so much for the kind words!! and again if you have any suggestions or recommendations just ask, and if you want to be tagged in part 4, let me know! if you want me to stop tagging you then let me know that too lol. part 4 will be up tomorrow. have a beautiful day loves :)

@anarchy-n-glitter i love you sm, thank you for the support lol.

@reidselle

@doctorspenceryeet

@ashwarren32

@reidsbookclub

Part 2

Part 4

Masterlist

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onlydylanobrien · 3 years ago

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Dylan O'Brien - NME Magazine Interview

Dylan O’Brien: “I was in this transitional phase – close to a quarter-life crisis”

From YA heartthrob to legitimate leading man – how the 'Maze Runner' star hit his stride after a whirlwind decade

Definitely!” hoots Dylan O’Brien when NME asks if he still has to audition. “I’m not Tom fucking Hanks, bro.” He’s clearly amused by our question, but forgive us for thinking the 29-year-old actor gets cast on reputation alone. A decade into his career, and he’s making an impressive transition from teen TV star and YA franchise hero to charismatic leading man.

New York-born O’Brien cut his teeth on MTV’s hit Teen Wolf series, before landing the lead in the Maze Runner film trilogy based on James Dashner’s hugely popular novels. Leading a band of bright young things that included ex-Skins tearaway Kaya Scodelario, Game Of Thrones’ Thomas Brodie-Sangster and Will Poulter, he honed his craft while racking up nearly a billion dollars at the box office. “My career is a constant acting class,” says O’Brien. “To be able to do the Maze Runner movies simultaneously with Teen Wolf was amazing in terms of getting in reps and working my [acting] muscle.”

Now for the sometimes tricky bit. Many actors struggle with the post-breakout period, but O’Brien is making it look easy so far. This year’s Netflix hit Love and Monsters proved he can carry an old-school family adventure, and new film Flashback (out next week) reveals an appetite for weirder, more cerebral work. He stars as Fred Fitzell, a young man reluctant to buckle down to life as a nine-to-fiver with a boring corporate job and a long-term girlfriend (Mindhunter‘s Hannah Gross). When he runs into a freaky-looking acquaintance from his teenage years, Fred becomes obsessed with finding an old high-school friend he used to drop a mind-bending experimental drug called Mercury with. It’s difficult to say any more without entering spoiler territory, but Flashback is a wild ride underpinned by the idea that we can exist in several realities at once. Even if you follow every plot twist, you might not fully understand the end. “Oh, it’s definitely a headfuck,” O’Brien agrees. “There’s not totally an answer to figure out. There’s a lot of different things that people can take from it.”

Speaking over Zoom from his LA home, O’Brien is bright, thoughtful and really good fun to talk to, especially when he relaxes into the interview, but he clearly knows where his line between public and private lies. When he first read the Flashback script, written by the film’s director Christopher MacBride, his “mind was blown” by just how much he related to Fred. “I felt like I was in this transitional phase of my life that was, you know, sort of close to a quarter-life crisis type thing,” he says. “For whatever reason, it was like me and this script were meant to be. I remember reading it and thinking: ‘I am this guy right now.'”

“There were a lot of things in my personal life that were neglected for a while”

When we ask why O’Brien felt as though he had reached a “transitional phase”, he gives an answer that’s vague but not exactly evasive. For understandable reasons, he doesn’t mention the incredibly traumatic motorcycle accident he sustained while shooting the final Maze Runner film in March 2016. O’Brien suffered severe trauma to the brain and said in 2017 that he underwent extensive facial reconstructive surgery after the accident “broke most of the right side of my face”. Tellingly, he’s never really revealed what happened on set or how it affected him.

Today, O’Brien dances around the details of the accident and other issues he was dealing with at the time, but doesn’t shy away from discussing his inner conflict. “You know, it was a lot of personal things combined with at-a-point-in-my-career things,” he says after a brief pause. He says he’d have been going through some of this stuff anyway, simply because of his age, but it sounds as though success intensified it all. “It was like this whole fucking storm of shit,” he continues. “I was simultaneously so fulfilled and happy about these, like, otherworldly and surreal things that I had experienced in terms of where my career had brought me. I had all this confidence and fulfilment and beautiful people [in my life] – such amazing things to experience at a young age. But at the same time, there were a lot of things in my personal life that were unchecked and sort of neglected for a while.”

O’Brien says that in time, he realised he had to “stop for a second” and “re-explore how I wanted my life to look going forward”. In fairness, you can see why he needed a breather: his career took off while he was still a teenager. After his family moved from New Jersey to Los Angeles County when he was 12, O’Brien contemplated a career as a sports broadcaster – his Twitter bio still bills him as a “no longer suffering Mets fan” – then began posting YouTube videos as moviekidd826. A funny, slickly edited skit titled ‘How to Prepare for the SAT in 45 seconds’, shared when he was just 17, shows he was a born performer and storyteller. YouTube success led to him getting a manager, but his breakthrough role in Teen Wolf still came out of the blue. At the time, he was treading water at a local community college and taking auditions on the side.

Still, he has since taken a rather fatalistic view of this career-making moment. “It’s totally weird because, when I think about it now, I don’t see how it could have happened any other way. I can’t picture myself doing anything else now,” he told Collider in 2011. “It was really sudden and a little random, and not provoked by anything. It was just out of nowhere. It wasn’t my intentional doing.” Today, O’Brien summarises his skyscraper career trajectory succinctly. “I guess I just graduated high school and started acting,” he says. “And then I felt like I was just flying by the seat of my pants and never got a chance to stop.” Thankfully, straight-out-the-blocks Hollywood success hasn’t taken away his sense of perspective. When I say how easy social media makes it to compare yourself unfavourably to others, O’Brien jumps in: “Yeah, that’s very true. I was watching the Billie Eilish doc the other day, and I was like, I’ve done nothing. I’m not an artist at all!”

“No one thought ‘Love and Monsters’ was going to be good!”

O’Brien is also self-deprecating when he talks about being cast in Flashback, suggesting it happened because he had such an intense connection with Fred. “I was honestly like, ‘Who is watching me right now?’ That is the best way I can describe how I was feeling when I came across this script,” he says. “Chris [MacBride, director] and I had this conversation that went so well in terms of [my] understanding this script that I think he’d sent around a lot and [that] very commonly wasn’t understood. I think Chris has even said that the night before shooting, he suddenly had this thought, like, ‘Wait, do I even think he’s a good actor?'”

Though O’Brien has firmly ring-fenced elements of his private life, he’s actually pretty frank about his acting vehicles. He readily admits he was expecting a snobbish response to Love and Monsters, a CGI-heavy hybrid of post-apocalyptic action and romcom that dropped on Netflix in April and topped the streamer’s daily most-watched list. “It means so much that Love and Monsters has gotten the response that it’s gotten,” O’Brien says. “No one thought this movie was going to be good.” His blunt honesty makes me laugh out loud. “No one did though!” he says in response. “And so, fuck that. You know, most of the people who say something to me about the movie, they’re like: ‘I watched Love and Monsters, and it was… good?’ And honestly, that just cracks me up.” For obvious reasons, we hastily decide not to share our response to the film – namely, that it was a whole lot better than expected.

In Love and Monsters, O’Brien plays Joel, a survivor of a so-called “monsterpocalypse” that has bumped humans to the bottom of the food chain. Though he’s known in his colony as a bit of a coward, Joel sets off on a treacherous 80-mile journey to find his high school sweetheart Aimee (Iron Fist‘s Jessica Henwick), which means evading the hungry clutches of various supersize grizzlies including a giant monster-frog hiding in a suburban pond. It’s a simple but pretty out-there premise that wouldn’t work if O’Brien’s performance was even slightly condescending. Instead, his unselfconscious sincerity really sells a film that has as much in common with the family-oriented Robin Williams movie Night at the Museum as darker fare like The Walking Dead.

His obvious affection for the project really comes across during our interview today. “When I read the script, I just thought it was so sweet and funny and smart and unique, but at the same time reminiscent of all these movies that don’t really get made any more,” he says. That’s a fair point: Love and Monsters is neither a fail-safe superhero movie nor a slice of classy Oscar bait. “And when they were talking about how to market this movie, it was so funny hearing all these conversations like, ‘How do we actually get people to watch it?'” he adds. “But that’s a big part of the reason I wanted to do this movie: because it felt like something I missed seeing.”

“I’m lucky to be surrounded by people who want to make something out of love”

So in a way, Love and Monsters was a risk for an actor seeking to establish himself outside of a bankable movie franchise and a hit TV show. O’Brien has only made four films since his final Maze Runner outing in 2018, and insists he hasn’t been tactical with his choices. “I don’t have anyone saying, ‘We need to get you in an Oscar vehicle’, or any of that kind of shit,” he says. “I’m really lucky to be surrounded by people who think like me: that you should do what you’re drawn to, and make something out of love.”

He’s recently finished shooting a mysterious crime thriller called The Outfit in London with Mark Rylance. Directed and co-written by Graham Moore, who won an Oscar for his screenplay to Alan Turing biopic The Imitation Game, O’Brien calls it “quite possibly one of the most special pieces of writing I’ve ever experienced”. He first read the script on a plane and says he “actually stood up and clapped” when he got to the end. Considering O’Brien probably wasn’t flying Ryanair, this reaction presumably attracted a few baffled glances.

Anyway, it must be pretty intimidating walking onto set with Rylance, a multi-award-winning actor revered by his peers – Al Pacino once said he “speaks Shakespeare as if it was written for him the night before” – but it sounds as though O’Brien took it all in stride. He says he’s confident in his abilities, but admits to having a slight wobble whenever he begins a new project. “I’m always sort of re-questioning everything – like, ‘Can I even act?'” he says. “But I think there’s something very natural about that. I think even Rylance could relate to that feeling. Acting is like starting a new year at school every single time.”

At this point in his career, O’Brien has made peace with the fact that some people will have preconceptions about him based on what he’s known for: Maze Runner and Teen Wolf. “People will put you in a box no matter what,” he says. “There was definitely a time when that would get to me, especially when it felt like somebody had a perspective on me that in my soul, I just felt wasn’t accurate.” Still, there’s no doubt he wants to show us what’s really in his soul with more films like Flashback. “If anything,” he adds bullishly, “it just makes me think: ‘Right, I’m really gonna show them now’.”

‘Flashback’ is out on digital platforms from June 4

#dylan o'brien #love and monsters press #flashback press #the outfit press

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writingsweetroll · 3 years ago

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**Summary: Louis has worries for his one year old, and Clementine soothes them by opening up about her own issues.**

Louis tried his best to not toss and turn, he really hated these beds. They were so springy, you do anything on it, so much as lay a hand on the mattress and it would make a springy noise. The noise wouldn’t annoy him as much if Clementine wasn’t laying beside him, he quickly found out she was a very light sleeper. It broke his heart that she wasn’t born a light sleeper, she just adapted to being one due to all of the trauma she faced. He wanted to make sure she got as much sleep as she could- so tossing and turning would definitely awaken her and that was the last thing he wanted.

So, he lay stiff as a board. Looking above to the mattress above him. He anxiously counted the number of bars holding the bed above him, distracting his mind to the best of his abilities. Because every time he couldn’t sleep at night, his mind went to dark places. *You have no idea what you’re doing.* He would think. That main thought spiraled out of control to other thoughts. But, that one main thought started from the time he was child, to now. It adapted to whatever situation he was in. As a child, ‘You have no idea what you’re doing’ related to the spelling bee, now, it is related to parenting his one year old daughter.

He grabbed the chair next to the desk, and placed it near the bed. He sat on it and watched her sleep soundly. A warm feeling was felt in his chest, unknowingly smiling ear to ear. He examined her features, and the midnight moon shone upon her face. She mainly had Louis’ features, his freckles, skin color, and eye shape. But, her lashes were full and her eyes were as golden as Clementines, her hair was also kinky just like Clementines. She was a perfect mix between the two.

*You don’t know what you’re doing, do you?*

Louis furrowed his brows as the thought entered his mind. No matter how many baby books he read, or conversations with Clementine he had about how to raise a baby into childhood, his mind was never satisfied with himself.

*To put your girlfriend through so much pain during her pregnancy, so selfish to bring a kid into this world, you’re a monster.*

That wasn’t true. Louis knew it. It wasn’t a mindless decision or an accident, it was multiple conversations and respectful debates about when or if they should start a family. After weeks, they decided together that they wanted a family, and they had enough resources to do so. And the pregnancy went better than expected, minor pain here and there, and the delivery had no scares. Thankfully, whenever Louis would remember this, it seemed as if thoughts grew quieter, and instead he imagined a world where the apocalypse wasn’t here. He wondered what her parents would think of him, or Lee, even Kenny. He didn’t know much about them, but he knew enough to know she cared deeply for them.

Suddenly, his daughter sniffled, causing him to go into panic mode. He calmed himself down once she went back to her normal state. It was spring, and it was just allergies but he was still terrified of her getting sick. Louis sighed, slouching against the chair now.

Although Louis truly thought he didn’t know what he was doing, he knew one thing. He’ll never be like his parents. His father, manipulative and a gas-lighter. His mother ignored it and was just focused on her public image instead.

*“Chin up, baby.” His mother whispered down to him. “Play your little piano and smile.”*

*His mother’s tone was sweet, and caring. But Louis wasn’t stupid. He knew his family milked his skills during fancy business parties like these ones. But, he played the piano nonetheless, because this was the only time he could truly feel like he had an audience that enjoyed his talent, his dream.*

*“My son! Ladies and gentlemen!” Louis’ father widened his arms towards Louis playing the piano. Families of prestigious wealth clapped for him. In this moment it was bitter sweet, should he feel happy that people enjoyed his music, or should he feel angry that his parents only supported him if it benefited them? Louis brushed off the confusing feelings and instead put his emotions into his music, making it authentic and oddly charming.*

*“Beautiful, Mandisa.” A woman patted his mothers shoulder. “You’ve raised a wonderful son.”*

Louis slightly groaned in irritation. ‘*They raised a horrible kid.’* Louis thought to himself. Now that he was older, he realized that he shouldn’t have beat himself up as much as he did when he was 17. Guilt had always occupied his mind when he thought about what he did, how he broke up his parents. But in reality, they raised him like that. They raised him to think of yourself first, not others. Survival of the fittest.

*“Please, I have a family William!”*

*Louis sat on the couch with his mother, they were just chatting when they heard the commotion coming from the office room. His father opened the door and held his hand out. “You’re not needed anymore, Mark.”*

*“I-I’m not needed?! Are you serious!? I helped you start this business, what the fuck man?!”*

*“But- Mark. You seem to forget. People like me. People like my beautiful ‘exotic’ wife, people love my son. What do you have Mark? A regular housewife, who’s pregnant and unattractive? A son who doesn’t excel in school? He doesn’t even have a talent to show off. You’re dragging me down. You understand, don’t you?”*

*“Excuse me?! The fuck did you-” Mark gulped as a security guard walked up behind him. “Fine.” Mark muttered.*

*The guard escorted the man out. Louis’ father looked at Louis with a smile, as if he didn’t just ruin someone’s life. “See son,” he started. “-sometimes, we have to make the hard decisions to get what we desire. It’s just business. Nothing personal.”*

Business came first, passion and feelings came last. That way of life ruined his childhood. He believed from a young age hurting others to get what he wanted was ok.

He gently stroked Willows head, *‘I’ll never teach you that.’* He thought to himself. No matter what, he’ll always make sure she knew it was ok to express herself, to talk about her feelings. He wanted her to know that no matter the situation, she was loved and *accepted.*

“I promise.” He whispered. “I promise I’ll give you a better life than mine.”

Suddenly, he felt slender arms wrap around his neck, a semi-heavy weight on his shoulders. He smiled, hearing Clementine mumble something out of exhaustion.

“What was that, darling?” Louis asked, holding her forearm.

“You’re doing great.” She yawned. “You don’t have to keep worrying Louis. You love her and that’s—“

“The bare minimum, Clem.” Louis cut her off.

“-not really. Not anymore.” Clementine said sadly. “Even back then, dads used to run out on their kids, unable to either provide a stable life or love. You could’ve ran out so many times, so many opportunities and you didn’t.”

“Why would I ever do that?” Louis replied, almost offended.

“I’ve seen it happen before. Of course I knew you wouldn’t but…there’s always that lingering exit you can take, and the urge is probably there for you-“

“Clementine.” Louis said sternly, waking her up a little. “I would *never* do that. Do you really think that?”

Clementine stayed quiet. In reality, no. Of course she knew Louis would never leave. It was just her inner insecurities popping out, she’d hidden it for years but it came out eventually. The *constant* fear that she would be alone again lingered in her mind. Louis noticed her silence and sighed. He got off his chair, and then hugged her tightly.

“Isn’t it crazy?” Louis chuckled.

“What?”

“How we only started dating a month into knowing each other.” Louis started, caressing her arm a bit. “Now, we’re in a family together. Clementine, I didn’t fight a war with you, fell for you in the middle of it, wrote songs about you, spent literally almost every second with you for the past 4 years to just leave.” Louis reassured.

“But now we have a kid.”

“Even more of a reason to stay. I mean *who* can actually say they have a kid with the most beautiful, bad-ass woman of the apocalypse world? Only me! I’d be a fool to run from that.” Louis joked.

She shook her head, a big smile on her face. Louis kissed the top of her head, pushing her slightly towards the bed, there he dropped her on it. She got into a comfortable position, and Louis lay next to her.

“I was serious.” Clementine broke the silence. “When I said you’re doing great. It’s not only the love you have for her Louis. You don’t even go to sleep before she does. Even though I tell you I got it. You care deeply for her and that *is* enough.”

Louis sighed, twiddling his fingers with one another, only staring at the bars above him. “I know. Thanks. Sometimes it just feels like I’m not enough, even before Willow.”

“Louis…” Clementine muttered sadly. The thought of him degrading himself saddened her. She sat up, grabbing his curious glance. Clementine took off her oversized sweater, a tank-top underneath. There was enough moon-light to see the faint, pink branded mark on her arm. She slid her fingers over it slightly, a grimace appearing on her face.

“You finally gonna reveal the meaning behind that?” Louis chuckled, over the years, she’d always refuse. ‘*The past doesn’t matter.’* She’d say.

Although he was joking, she wasn’t.

“I got this when I was 13.” Clementine started.

Louis shifted himself upwards, a frown shown on his face as he eyed the scar.

“I only did it to make sure AJ was safe. But, then he got ripped apart from me in the same group. After that, I had nothing more to lose. And when you have nothing to lose…you do scary, stupid things. I was horrible, Louis. I wasn’t the same person you know today.”

Louis nodded, taking in her words to the best of his ability. Trying not to react negatively in anyway.

“After I got AJ back—I only had *him.* If anyone ever—and I mean, *anyone* tried anything to hurt or kill him, I wouldn’t hold back. Yes I love AJ. I really do, but that feeling of hopelessness for your own self is so damaging.” Clementine opened up. After a brief moment of silence she continued. “I didn’t have hope for my own life, only for his. I didn’t mind if I got bit, as long as he was safe, I didn’t care. Not because I was sad or anything but because I just felt like this world wasn't for me. When I was a kid, I loved to be social, playful even. I've changed so much, I was forced to. I used to be innocent. Now, I'm finally getting some sort of my old self back."

Clementine grabbed Louis’ hand and squeezed it slightly. “You saved me.” She said, her tone hoarse. Louis squeezed back on her hand.

"I'm glad to be of service." He smiled at her. “I love you.”

She smiled, and kissed his cheek. “I love you too, Louis.”

#twdg #clouis #telltale the walking dead #clemxlouis #clou #telltales the walking dead #twd #twdclem #twdg s4 #fanfic

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thebookreader12345 · 4 years ago

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Identity Loss - Chapter Two

Chapter One Chapter Three

“Sam, is she gonna be okay?” William asked the older doctor who was examining me. I had no idea what was going on, but I went with it. What I did know though was that Sam, or Dr. Abrams, was the head of Neurosurgery. And because he was checking my head, that must have meant I had gotten a head injury, only I couldn’t remember how.

“She seems fine. Nothing looks to be wrong. I’m guessing the amnesia is from the head trauma. Either that, or it’s from the lack of oxygen she received when Mr. Wilson tried to choke her,” Dr. Abrams responded. Who was Mr. Wilson? And why was he trying to choke me?

“Is it permanent?” William questioned.

Dr. Abrams shrugged. “All cases are different. Sometimes memory loss is only temporary. But there are cases where the amnesia was permanent. What I’m saying is that I don’t know, which, by the way, sounds so weird coming out of my mouth.”

William sighed. “Okay. Thanks, Sam.” And with that, Dr. Abrams left the room leaving me alone with William.

“So, William,” I start, only to be cut off.

“It’s Will,” William interrupted. “You always call me Will. Everyone does.”

“But the coat says William,” I point out.

“Y/N, can you stop arguing with me? Please? I’m having a rough day,” William stated.

“You’re having a rough day? I can’t remember a damn thing about my life except for my name,” I argue.

William ran a hand through his curly ginger hair and took a seat next to my bed. “I know. And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone off on you like that.”

“It’s okay,” I admit. “If I were in your place, and you couldn’t remember me, I’d be a little pissed too. So, Will, mind telling me about my life?”

“It’s a lot,” Will reminded me. “You sure you’re ready?”

I nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be. And I’ve got nothing else to do, so why the hell not.” Will laughed softly, and seeing him smile brought a small sense of joy to me. It was weird though because I didn’t know him at all. Well, amnesia me didn’t know him, but the real me, whoever she was, did.

“Okay. I guess we’ll start at where we are. This is Chicago Med. It’s where you work as an ED doctor,” Will told me.

“Doctor, huh? I must’ve been smart,” I exclaim.

“Smarter than me, yeah, which is really hard to admit, but it’s true,” Will claimed. “So there’s that. And then there’s uh, there’s your relationships.” Will then stopped for a moment to gather his thoughts, and I was on the edge of my seat. Was I popular? Did I have lots of friends? Was there a boyfriend in the picture? A husband? Kids? My thoughts were all over the place, yet somehow I managed to calm myself down. “Your best friend’s name is Maggie Lockwood. She’s the charge nurse down in the ED. There’s also Natalie, another ED doctor who you’re really close with.”

“And?” I question, urging him to continue.

“And then there’s me,” Will added.

“So we were friends then?” I ask. Will hesitated, which seemed pretty weird to me, but then again, I couldn’t remember anything, so maybe he acted like this all of the time. Finally though, he spoke up.

“No, we weren’t friends. We were uh, we were engaged,” Will murmured and nodded to my left hand. I looked down at the arm encased in a sling, and that’s when I saw the engagement ring that sat on my finger. It looked beautiful, even in the terrible hospital lighting, and I especially loved how the jewel glittered in the light.

“You don’t really seem like my type,” I joke, which broke the silence. “But then again, I don’t know anything about myself, so maybe you are.”

Will cracked a small smile. “You’ve still got your humor. That’s good. Look, I’ve got to get back to work, and even though I really want to stay, Ms. Goodwin will have my job if I do something wrong again. But, if you need anything, anything at all, you tell one of the nurses to call me and I’ll come right up.”

“Okay,” I say and watch as Will stood up and made his way to the door. “Oh, and thank you, Will, for everything.” Will gave me another smile, and with that, he left my room. Throughout the day, Will stopped by every so often to check in on me, and it was nice seeing a familiar face. Well, I probably knew all of the nurses and other staff milling around in and outside of my room, but I didn’t know their names, so they were basically foreign. And then, that night, Will came back into my room. He didn’t have maroon scrubs on this time, and he had a satchel slung over his shoulder. “What’s that?” I ask and point to the satchel.

“Your things,” Will replied and set the bag down on the edge of my bed. “Now, get dressed. I’m taking you home.” Will waited outside of my room while I replaced my hospital gown with the clothes in the bag. It was just a pair of jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and some boots. Maybe this is what I was wearing the day of my accident. As I put on my new clothes, my mind drifted to the fact that I was going home. I had no idea where “home” was, and the dozens of possibilities flew around my head. Did I live in a house or apartment? Was it more modern or contemporary? Were there any pets? Once I was dressed, I met Will outside of the hospital room.

“I’m ready whenever you are,” I declare.

“All right then. Lets go,” Will spoke and led me out of the hospital. The drive home only took a few minutes, and I enjoyed the ride. I loved looking out the window, admiring all of the buildings that we passed. The old me probably knew this route by heart, but the new me was excited to see everything. Soon, we pulled into the parking lot of an apartment complex, and I climbed out of the car. Inside of the building, Will and I ascended the stairs to get to the second floor, and we walked down a hallway, stopping at the door at the very end. Will fished his keys from his jacket pocket, and then he unlocked the door, pushing it in. I stepped inside first, dropping my bag and shoes off by the door before taking it all in. It was so weird seeing the place where I lived, but not remembering anything that happened here. The good news was, the place looked homey, and from where I was standing, I could see that there was a bedroom and a bathroom down past the kitchen on the right, and another bedroom at the end on the left. I started in the living room first since it was right in front of me, and ran my hand along the back of the couch as I looked around. As I was taking everything in, something on the end table caught my eye. I walked over, and upon seeing that it was a picture frame, I picked it up to examine the photo inside. To my surprise, it was an engagement photo. In the picture, Will and I were kissing in front of Lake Michigan with the Chicago skyline in the background. I stared at the picture, desperately trying to remember that afternoon, and when I couldn’t remember a single detail, I sighed and set the frame back down on the table. “You want to order some pizza?”

“Uh, sure,” I respond. “What do we usually get?”

“Your favorite is sausage and green peppers,” Will reminded me as he put his stuff away. “Make yourself at home while I call in the order.” I nodded and took a seat on the couch, but it was hard, knowing that I had a life before this, a great life, and I couldn’t remember a thing about it. After about half an hour, the pizza arrived, and we ate dinner in complete silence. It felt like we should have been talking about something, maybe work, but because I had amnesia, there was nothing to talk about. “You can have the master,” Will told me once it was time for bed. “I’ll take the guest bed.”

“That’s okay,” I protest. “You should have the better bed.”

“I insist,” Will pushed. “Seriously. After everything you’ve been through, you could use the rest. I’ll see you in the morning.” And with that, Will retreated into the smaller bedroom. In the master bedroom, I dug through the dresser to find some pajamas, settling on some flannel pants and a tank top, and once I had changed, I climbed into bed. It was weird though, having this big bed all to myself, and all I could think about was wanting Will to be snoring softly next to me. So, I got out of bed and walked to the other bedroom. Peaking my head inside the doorway, I saw that Will was in bed staring down at his phone, and he glanced up when I entered.

“Hey. What’s up?” Will asked.

“It was uh, it was kind of weird being in there alone, so I wanted to come ask if you’d sleep in there with me. I know it’s probably awkward for you because I can’t remember anything, so if you don’t want to, I understand,” I admit.

“No. It’s cool. I’ll stay in there with you,” Will stated. Will and I then made our way back into the bigger bedroom and got situated. Now that Will was here, I felt more at ease.

“Thanks for doing this,” I murmur and turn to face Will.

“No problem. Goodnight, Y/N,” Will muttered and turned away from me.

“Night,” I mumble softly. I tried to fall asleep, but my mind was wide awake, and all I could do was think about Will. I had my doubts about him at first, but now I could see why the old me fell in love with him, and it was because I was slowly falling for Will all over again.

______________________

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iamtrebleclefstories · 4 years ago

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help, ‘cause I need saving - part one

six times Jo and Alex saved each other from horrible dates and the one time they didn’t

a two-shot fic taking place in a Season 9 alternate universe

One

“Yeah, you know I just really think it’s weird for a woman to be a surgeon. I don’t know, it just doesn’t sit right with me. I feel like your skills would be of better use in…”

Jo drowned out the voice of the man sitting across from her, willing herself to not give an outburst as a result of her date’s misogynistic comments. She should’ve known that he would be a sexist asshole the moment she heard his name. No self-respecting guy goes by Trent. But no, William Trenton III, insisted on being called Trent because Billy was his grandpa and Will was his father.

She wanted to bang her head against the table and throw a tortilla chip in Trent’s eyeball. Her patience was quickly fading and Jo was struggling to think of a good enough reason to bail on this guy that Stephanie had set her up with. From the corner of her eye, she watched as Alex Karev walked into the bar. Despite what she’d originally told him about she’d never sleep with him, Jo couldn’t deny that she was extremely attracted to him. It honestly wouldn’t take much from his part to get into her pants. Especially since she’d started spending more time on his service, learning from him and growing as a surgeon. They weren’t exactly friends, but ever since she had shared her tragic backstory with him, there was a sort of kinship between the two doctors.

Hoping he would catch on to the hints she was dropping, Jo looked over at her superior with a desperate expression on her face. Locking eyes with her, Alex tilted his head in question at the intern. Jo motioned to her date with her head and mouthed the words “help me” as discreetly as she could. Alex raised an eyebrow and his lips twisted up into a smirk as he realized the situation.

Schooling his expression, Alex walked over to the table with a serious look on his face, “Wilson!”

“Dr. Karev,” Jo feigned surprise. “Is something wrong?”

“Hate to break up your date, but we’re being paged for a trauma. Let’s go,” Alex pointed towards the door. “Now.”

Jo scurried up from the table, grabbed her purse, and mumbled an insincere apology to Trent as she exited the booth and followed Alex out the door. Once they were outside, Jo let out a sigh of relief, “Oh God, thank you so much. I thought my brain was going to melt if I kept talking to him for one more second.”

“That bad huh?” Alex chuckled. “You looked pretty miserable there.”

“It was horrible,” Jo leaned against the outside brick wall. “He kept talking about how the OR was no place for a woman and that my skills would be of better use in the kitchen when I told him that I’m a surgeon. He was a sexist asshole that I hope never has any children because his daughters will grow up oppressed and his sons will grow up to be oppressors.”

Alex nodded, an amused expression on his face, “So, it was worse than bad. Got it.” He leaned against the wall next to her. “Well, I’m glad you got out of that horrible date, but now you owe me a drink.”

“What?” Jo raised her eyebrows.

“I was going on there to get a drink to wind down after a long day but instead I had to fake a page to get you out of there. I can’t exactly pop back in. So, now you owe me a drink to make up for the one I gave up to help you,” Alex stated, hands in his pockets.

“That’s fair,” Jo conceded. “Well, I know this place near my apartment that does buy two, get one half off beers. It’s not as nice as Joe’s but it’ll do the trick for one night.”

“Lead the way Wilson.”

+++

Two

He wasn't quite sure how he got here. But after friending an old high school classmate on Facebook, Alex found himself on probably one of the worst dates he'd ever been on with Britney Bowers from his high school English class. He was glad that he told her to meet him at Joe's so that he could fake a patient emergency and never call Britney back again.

“I think it’s just so important to eat healthy and live a clean lifestyle. People are so focused on all the illnesses there are nowadays but they refuse to see all the wonderful things that nature has to offer us. I guarantee you that none of that modern medicine stuff is necessary if people just ate the right foods. You see it all comes down to your gut. That’s the root of all the diseases. If we eat healthy then we don’t get sick and there’s no need for medication or vaccines or the healthcare field,” Britney’s ignorance seeped through as she voiced her opinion in conversation. “It’s such a scam, all of it. It’s just Big Pharma that wants your money and everyone is in on it. Why do you think doctors make such good money? I bet half the time they treat you, there’s nothing wrong with you or there’s something that can be remedied naturally that they’re refusing to acknowledge because it takes away from drug companies that stuff money in their pockets.”

“You do know I’m a surgeon, right?” Alex stared at her incredulously.

Britney laughed awkwardly, "Oh, I'm not talking about you. I'm sure you aren't trying to scam people for their money. I'm just… you must know a lot of people who do."

"Nope, I don't," Alex shook his head. "Most of the people I work with are just trying to save your life, not take your money. We aren't the ones in charge of billing."

"Huh," Britney stared at him dumbly.

Much to his luck, Jo had been sitting at the bar witnessing the travesty and found it in herself to be merciful. She walked up to the table with her best innocent expression and spoke, "Dr. Karev, I'm so sorry, you told me not to bother you tonight, but I was monitoring Lily Phillips vitals and I noticed that her SATs started dropping again. I know her parents were hoping not to have to operate again, but I think you should come in and see if there's something more serious going on."

Alex’s eyebrows shot up when he saw who had come to his rescue. Realizing that this was his out, Alex stood up, “Crap. Yeah, lets go.” He turned to face Britney. “Listen, it was great catching up, but I’ve got to go.”

“Oh, no worries, I get that you’re busy,” Britney flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder. “You can always call me and we can continue this another day.”

“Sure,” Alex smiled awkwardly, trying not to glare when he heard Jo’s quiet snort. “Goodbye.”

As soon as they were outside, Jo burst into laughter, “Wow, that was hard to watch. ‘There’s no need for medicines or vaccines or the healthcare field.’ Please, if it weren’t for modern medicine, natural selection would have weeded her out a long time ago.”

Alex laughed along with Jo, “You’re not wrong.”

“How did you even meet her?” Jo asked as they walked over to their cars.

“We went to high school together,” Alex huffed in annoyance. “She found me on Facebook and sent me a message. I answered like an idiot. She said that she moved here a couple months ago and was surprised to see that I was living here too. She asked if we could meet up and since I didn’t want to be a complete jerk, I said yes. I also kind of had a thing for her back in the day, so I guess I wanted to see what she was like after all these years. Not making that mistake again.”

“Yikes,” Jo grimaced. “Well, on the bright side, now you know that you wouldn’t have worked anyway, being that she believes we’re in cahoots with Big Pharma.”

“You’re right,” Alex chuckled. He looked over at Jo gratefully. Ever since Bailey’s wedding when they fake cried their way into a stranger’s hotel room two weeks ago, they became fast friends. Honestly, Jo was probably one of the people he trusted most in the world. Not to mention she was really hot, which was clouding Alex’s head with all kinds of confusing things, especially when his friends were hell-bent on insisting that he and Jo were more than friends. All he knew was that he enjoyed her company and found himself wanting to spend more time with her. “What do you say we go get some pizza and beers and eat them at my place?”

“Sounds great to me.”

+++

Three

“So… I’m going on a date tonight.”

Alex raised his eyebrows as he looked over to Jo who’d come up next to him by the fourth floor nurses station, “Okay… and?”

“And, I need you to be on-call in case I need to get out of there,” Jo rested her chin in her hands.

“You want me to sit by my phone all night waiting for you to call me just in case your date goes bad?” Alex made a face. “If you’re so worried, why are you going out with this guy anyway?”

“Because my drunk ass may have agreed to go on a date with him after you left me alone at Joe’s last night,” Jo narrowed her eyes. “This is why you can’t leave me alone while I’m drunk. I can’t be trusted. I make stupid decisions while drunk.”

“It wasn’t like I wanted to leave. I got paged,” Alex rolled his eyes.

“Ah, yes. I’m sure you tell all the girls that,” Jo grinned sarcastically.

“Shut up,” Alex sighed and placed the chart down on the counter. “Where’s your date and what time is it at?”

“It’s at the movie theater ten minutes away from here,” Jo answered. “I haven’t been on a movie date since I was sixteen. That’s how I know that it’s going to be interesting…”

“Fine. I’ll be at Joe’s with my ringer on and a bottle of beer, trying to think of a creative way to bail you out,” Alex crossed his arms. “But if an hour goes by and you still haven’t called me, I’m going to assume it’s not horrible and I’ll worry about myself. Maybe I’ll pick up some chick and get laid.”

“You’re the best! I’ll text you later,” Jo smiled brightly as walked away to finish her shift.

Sure enough, later that evening, Alex snorted when his phone lit up with a message from Jo.

J: Save me please

A: Dude, you haven’t even been there for 20 minutes

J: I know but I need to get out of here ASAP. He’s creepy and I feel uncomfortable.

His name is Brock. BROCK!

A: Don’t panic

I’m coming.

What do you want me to do? Interrupt the theater?

J: Yes. I don’t know… just help me. And the movie hasn’t started yet. We’re just watching the previews.

A: I’ll be there in ten minutes

I’m going to call and text you fifteen times now

Don’t answer, it’s part of my plan

Ten minutes later, Alex was standing in front of the ticket booth bargaining with one of the workers.

“Listen man, I don’t need to sneak into a movie. I’m a surgeon. I’ve got the twelve dollars you need to get in, but I’m telling you, this is an emergency.”

“I’m sorry sir, but I cannot let you in there. Especially now that the movie is about to start any second,” the young ticketmaster said.

“Dude, you’re not getting it. I’m not asking to go in there. I’m asking you to get someone to interrupt the theater before the movie starts and get her,” Alex huffed. “Her phone is on silent, so she probably hasn’t realized that she had about twenty missed calls. Her brother was just in a car accident and might not live to see tomorrow. I think you can make an exception just this once.”

The teenager looked back and forth between Alex and the theater and sighed, “Fine. What’s her name again?”

Back in the screening room, Jo was bouncing her leg anxiously as the lights began to dim, signaling the start of the film. She looked at Brock warily as he attempted to rest his hand on her thigh. She brushed it away and chewed on her lip, hoping that whatever plan Alex had in place would begin soon, so that she would have to be stuck watching the movie with this creep.

Suddenly, the lights brightened again, and she watched as one of the teenaged workers walked into the front of the theater.

“I’m so sorry for the inconvenience, but I’m looking for a Josephine Wilson.”

The moviegoers grumbled at the interruption, but Jo shot up in her seat, “Yes. That’s me!”

The worker walked up the steps to her level and spoke, “I’m so sorry, ma’am. But your friend Alex is outside. He says he’s been trying to contact you and you haven’t answered.”

“We’re on a date, of course she hasn’t answered the damn phone,” Brock sneered. “What the hell could be more important than this?”

The teenager looked down apologetically, “He said that he’s called you about twenty times. It’s an emergency.”

Finally catching on to Alex’s plan, Jo suppressed a laugh. She looked down at her phone and indeed saw all the missed calls that he’d warned her not to answer, “Oh my God. It says he called me nineteen times. What happened?”

“Ma’am, your brother has been in an accident,” the worker—Vinny, as described by his name tag—gave her a sympathetic look. “I was told it was really bad.”

“Oh God,” Jo pressed a hand to her mouth and got to work on her fake tears. “Is… is he alive?”

“I’m not sure,” Vinny shook his head. “But I think you should come outside and head over the hospital with your friend.

“Yes, yes of course,” Jo nodded as a couple tears made their way down her face.

“I’ll go with you,” Brock stood up from his seat.

“No!” Jo said, almost too quickly. Shaking her head, she held a hand up. “No. It’s alright. Stay here. Enjoy the movie. We can always go out another day.”

“Okay…” Brock sat back down and watched as Jo walked out of the theater, not realizing that he had no way of contacting her until it was too late.

When Jo exited, she kept up her façade and ran straight into Alex’s arms, fake tears staining his shirt. He rubbed her back soothingly, “Hey. It’s okay. We’re gonna go see him now.” Alex looked back at the kid. “Thanks for your help.”

“No problem,” Vinny waved his hand. “I hope everything works out with your brother, ma’am.”

“Thank you,” Jo sniffed and wiped a couple tears. She looked up at Alex. “Can we go?”

“Yeah,” Alex led her out of Vinny’s view and into the parking lot.

As soon as they entered the car, Jo and Alex both burst into laughter. Jo held her stomach as she laughed, “When I said yes to interrupting the theater, I didn’t think you’d actually do it.” Jo wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “My brother was in a horrible accident? Do you know how hard it was not to laugh at that? I don’t have a brother.”

“It was the first thing I could come up with,” Alex took a few deep breaths in an effort to calm his laughs. “You were great in there, though. The crying was very convincing.”

“Thanks,” Jo giggled. “You know he tried to come with me? Brock.”

“That right there—his name—should’ve been a red flag from the get go,” Alex chuckled. “You were right though, fake crying gets you out of everything.”

“Stick with me and maybe I’ll teach you some other tricks,” Jo grinned.

They stared at each other with mirth in their eyes for a few moments. There was no denying that there was something brewing between the two of them. As much as they tried to ignore it, there was this connection that neither of them could quite explain. It was comforting but electric at the same time. But neither of them were bold enough to take it any further.

“What do you say we get some fried chicken and eat it in the car like we were raised to do?” Alex suggested.

“I’d say… I think I love you,” Jo joked. “In all seriousness though, let’s get out of here before Brock comes looking for me.”

“Yeah, probably a good idea.”

+++

Four

“So you know how helping each other get out of dates now is our thing?” Alex said as he fell into step with Jo as she exited the intern locker room.

“Is it now?” Jo raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Didn’t know that.”

“Oh come on. I’ve helped out get out of two really bad dates already, and I expect you to return the favor,” Alex gave her a sideways glance.

“Mhmm,” Jo hummed. “What kind of trouble did you get yourself into this time, Karev?”

“I haven’t gotten myself into anything yet,” Alex placed his hands on his hips. “I’ve got a date tonight with this blonde chick named Tiffany. I met her last night while I was out grocery shopping. She seems pretty nice, normal, but then again, I met her in the frozen food section so who knows what she’s like. Anyway, I was hoping you’d be available to get me out of it in case things go horribly.”

“I’d love to, but it all depends on what time I get out of here tonight,” Jo sighed. “I’m on Medusa’s—I’m sorry, I mean Dr. Grey’s service today.”

“No you’re not,” Alex shook his head. “I switched with her.”

“What? Why?” Jo scrunched her eyebrows as they approached the elevator. “Is this because you want me available to bail you out?”

“No. Well… yes, but it’s not the only reason,” Alex pressed the elevator button. “Murphy was on my service and I know it’s been months but she still gives me those creepy, weird looks and I don’t feel like dealing with her today.”

Jo snorted in laughter, “You are such a douche.”

“Whatever. She knew what she was getting into when she slept with me,” Alex shrugged. “So, if I let you out when I leave, will you hang around in case I need you.”

“I guess,” Jo faked annoyance.

“Great, thanks.”

By the time the date rolled around, Alex had been pretty optimistic. Sure, Tiffany wasn’t the girl he wanted to go out with, but since he couldn’t date the one person he wanted to date, Alex was doing his best to try to find someone he could make it last with. So far, he wasn’t having the best luck.

It started out normal, great even. So great that for a while there, Alex thought about texting Jo and letting her know that maybe he wouldn’t need her tonight. He discovered that he was very wrong rather quickly.

Tiffany was beautiful, he couldn’t deny that. But she was too clingy. To the point that it was actually scaring him. He was sure if this went any further and they broke up, he’d have an ex who wouldn’t take no for an answer—or worse, a stalker on his hands.

Sending a quick text message to Jo under the table, he waited for a reply.

A: Definitely going to need your help tonight

J: what happened?

A: She’s too clingy. Bad clingy. Creepy clingy.

Take a lock of my hair and clone me later clingy.

J: Yikes. Where are you again?

A: The club across the street from that diner we like to eat at.

I should’ve known it would be bad when she suggested going to a club on the first date

J: You think?

I’ll be there in fifteen

A: Please hurry

True to her word, fifteen minutes later, Alex watched as Jo entered the club and took a seat at the bar. He spent about five minutes looking back and forth between Tiffany and Jo, who’d taken to flirting with a couple guys that had come up to her in the short time since she’d arrived. Bouncing his leg impatiently, Alex sent another angry text to Jo.

A: What the hell are you doing?

You’re supposed to be helping me, remember? Not trying to get laid.

“Is everything okay?” Tiffany asked. “It’s just, you keep looking at your phone.”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Alex rubbed a hand on his neck awkwardly.

In that moment, Alex heard a gasp from his right side. Jo had materialized and wore an angry expression, “You!”

“Me?” Alex pointed to himself, confused as to what her play was.

“Oh my God. You don’t even remember me,” Jo clutched her drink in her hand. “I shouldn’t be surprised. You’re a hump ‘em and dump ‘em kind of guy.”

“What did I do?” Alex widened his eyes as he waited for Jo’s cue.

“What did you do? What did you do!” Jo’s eyes hesitated for a split second before she threw her drink in his face. “Thanks for the syphilis, you ASSHOLE!” She turned to face Tiffany before walking off. “Don’t waste your time!”

Sitting there in shock, Alex watched as Tiffany rose from the couch they'd been sitting on to look at Alex with a face of disgust, “And to think, I had picked out our kids names.”

Once Tiffany grabbed her face and exited the club, Jo came back with a semi-apologetic, but mostly amused face, “I’m so sorry about your shirt, but that was awesome! I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“Yeah, I bet you’re having the time of your life right now,” Alex glared.

“Hey, you told me to get rid of her and that’s what I did,” Jo defended, a shit-eating grin on her face. “Come on, I have one of your old t-shirts in my car.”

“Why do you have one of my t-shirts in your car?” Alex scrunched his face in question. The thought of her having one of his shirts in her car did things to his brain that he wasn’t even sure how to vocalize.

“It’s from the last time I crashed at your place on the nice, comfy couch I bought you,” Jo smiled.

“Yeah, with my money.”

“Semantics,” Jo waved her hand. “Anyway, let’s get out of this hell hole and go to watch movies at your house.”

Alex rolled his eyes at her antics, “Fine.”

+++

Five

Alex should’ve said no the moment April Kepner offered to set him up on a date. Knowing Kepner, he should’ve known what kind of thing he’d be getting himself into. But when she came up to him with a request from a former patient’s daughter who thought he was attractive, he found himself having trouble saying no and ended up agreeing to the date.

That’s how he ended up spending the past 20 minutes staring across the table at a woman who might as well have been the carbon copy of Izzie Stevens.

He’d truly tried to give the woman a chance and not associate her with his ex-wife, but the longer they spoke, the more freaked out he was getting by the whole situation. Especially when she started talking about her love of baking.

“I’m gonna go use the bathroom real fast,” Alex started to stand from his seat.

“Oh yeah, no worries,” the woman waved her hand.

The moment he stepped foot into the bathroom, Alex searched for his cellphone in his pocket and dialed the one number he needed to get him out of this situation. It rang four times before a voice came through the speakers.

“Hello?”

“Dude, I need you to get me out of here right now,” Alex whispered into the phone. “I’m at the bar and grill 20 minutes away. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t stand this for another minute.”

“What’s wrong with this one?” Jo chuckled on the other line.

“She looks like my ex-wife,” Alex hissed into the phone. “She’s got strawberry blonde hair but they have the same face. Their brown eyes are the same. Sure her tits are smaller than Izzie 's were, but they even have the same creepy, overly perky laugh. And her name is Katherine. That was Izzie’s middle name. But she insists on me calling her Kitty Kat.”

Jo snorted into the phone, “Gosh, you really know how to pick them. What do you want me to do? How are we going to play this?”

"First of all, I didn't pick her," Alex paused. "Kepner set me up."

"Mistake number one right there," Jo giggled in amusement. "Okay, again, how do you want to play this?"

“I don’t know,” Alex shrugged helplessly. “Pretend you’re my girlfriend and come in here kicking and screaming at me because I’m a cheating asshole or something.”

“Wow, you’re really desperate this time aren’t you. Aren’t you traumatized from what I did last time?” Jo laughed at his expense. “Okay, I’m changing out of my scrubs right now. Give me half an hour. I’ll figure out a story on my way there.”

“Thank you,” Alex sighed in relief.

He made his way back to the table giving Kathrine an awkward smile as she continued to yap on and on about some cooking show she’d almost been a contestant on. He was about ready to gouge his eyes out with his fork when he saw Jo walk towards the outdoor area where he and Katherine were sitting with an oddly shaped bundle in her hands.

“What the hell Alex? Tell me why I just got off the phone with your mother only to find out that you were supposedly at dinner with me, when you told me you were working late,” Jo exclaimed, causing the bundle in her arms to let out a cry.

Alex stared at her in shock, wondering where the hell she had gotten a baby from. He hoped the very real confusion on his face would come across as shock to Katherine, who was sitting there, jaw dropped and eyes wide, watching the scene unfold. Alex opened his mouth, "Jo—"

"Don't, Alex. Just don't," Jo held up one hand as she rocked the now screaming baby. "I know things have been difficult since the baby was born, but I really expected more than this. I don't know when you stopped loving me, but I expected more respect as the mother of your child. I thought you'd have the decency to at least tell me the truth! Instead of lying to me and your mother, about where you were and who you were with."

Alex looked back and forth between Jo and Kathrine, unsure of what to say. Jo was really selling it this time and he did not want to throw her off by saying the wrong thing, "Jo, I—"

"Shut up, Alex. Just shut up and hold your son," Jo shoved the crying baby into his hands only to scoff when the child stopped crying immediately after landing in Alex's arms. "Of course! Of course he calms down as soon as you hold him. I'm done!" Jo threw her hands up in the air and turned on her feet back towards the car.

Alex cradled the child close to his chest and looked up at Katherine, “I should go…"

Much like Izzie used to do, Katherine turned up her nose indignantly, "Yes, and I think it's best if we never see each other again."

"Yup," Alex nodded sheepishly as he made his way out of the outdoor seating area and to Jo's car.

Rocking the small infant in one arm, Alex opened the car door with his free hand and sat inside the passenger seat, staring at Jo who smiled at him.

“How was that for a rescue?”

“Where the hell did you get this baby from?” Alex scrunched his face in question. “Please don’t tell me you stole some stranger’s baby.”

“I didn’t steal the baby,” Jo shook her head, a smile playing at her lips. She bent over to stroke the baby’s head. “I signed up to be one of the people that picks up the safe haven babies after they’re dropped off at the fire stations. I got the call about this little guy two minutes before you called me to get you out of your date. I picked him up and came to get you. Which honestly, I would’ve interrupted your date regardless because I wanted you to be the one to give him a check up. I’m supposed to head to the hospital with him now.”

Alex watched as Jo became entranced with the little boy currently resting in his arms. She was a natural when it came to kids, and it showed now as she fussed over a whole bunch of details he hadn’t thought of himself. He opened his mouth in confusion, “Wait, so you used a kid abandoned by his mother at a fire station to play our fake son and get me out of my date with my ex-wife’s doppelganger?”

“Yeah, that pretty much sums it up,” Jo took the infant from his hands and looked at him lovingly. “Come here you little guy. I know it must be scary to be away from your mommy, but I have to believe she did this because she thought she was giving you your best chance. She might not have been able to give you a home, but I will make sure that you end up in a very nice home, with some very nice people, who can give you all the love you deserve.”

Seeing this side of Jo was incredibly sweet. She was so tender with the child resting in her arms, cuddling him so that he’d never know that he’d been abandoned; so that he would be surrounded with love. Alex knew instantly she would be an amazing mother one day. What scared him though, was that he’d begun picturing himself in that position with her.

Jo sighed dreamily, “Okay. We’ve got to take him to the hospital for a check up and contact a social worker. If we don’t do it now, I’m afraid I’ll fall in love with him and take him home with me.”

A crooked smile pulled at the corner of Alex’s lips, “Here, I’ll get him into the car seat and sit in the back with him. You drive.”

+++

Six

“That’s going to be fun. I’m especially excited for that kid’s next eighteen years.”

They had just finished monitoring a newborn with the most difficult set of parents Alex had ever gotten a chance to work with. When he and Jo were paged down to OB for the case that morning, he never would’ve guessed that the parents would end up being coworkers who hated each other, hooked-up once, and ended up with a baby. But hey, not much surprised him these days. Still, the success of the little boy making it past the benchmark was a special moment for the two parents, who despite their differences were able to come together to make a decision in favor of their child's health.

The situation inspired a conversation between Jo and Alex regarding workplace relationships. If Alex was being honest, he was a bit biased when it came to his answers. Ever since Jo had all but dragged him into that linen closet to celebrate their win against Cahill with powdered sugar donuts last night, he could not get her out of his mind. Working with her today made him realize just how much he enjoyed her company. They'd grown so close in the last couple months and if he let himself, he could see them potentially becoming more.

Deciding to take initiative, Alex turned towards Jo, “Hey, do you want to go get a beer?”

“Oh, I would love to. Especially after today, but I actually already have plans," Jo waved over to a guy standing in the hallway wearing pink scrubs. "Tomorrow night? Is that cool?”

“Yeah… yeah that’s cool,” Alex looked at the guy suspiciously. "So, you have a date tonight? With someone from OB?"

"Yeah," Jo smiled nervously. "I've been wanting to ask him out for a while now, but, well you know my luck when it comes to dating. Anyway, I finally got the balls to do it today. We’re just going to Joe’s."

“Huh,” Alex nodded. For the first time, Alex felt strange knowing that she would be going out on a date with someone else. “Well, if you need help getting out of it, I’ll probably be hanging around the bar too.”

“You know, I don’t think I’ll need you this time. I feel really good about this one,” Jo beamed. She looked over at the doctor in pink scrubs before turning back to Alex. “Jason is waiting for me. I’m going to go change for my date. I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, see you later,” Alex waved lamely at her.

He seriously considered forgoing a drink at Joe’s altogether. He didn’t want to see the girl he was falling for having fun on a date with some guy that wore pink scrubs to work on a daily basis. But another side of him wanted to keep an eye on Jo and make sure she was okay. He wanted to be around in case something happened or that Jason guy tried to pull something fishy.

When Jo first saw Jason, she was immediately attracted to him. Who wouldn’t? He was hot and delivered babies for a living. After going on failed date after failed date over the past few months, Jo wanted a win. Besides, she needed a distraction from the thoughts invading her head about Alex. Because it definitely was not appropriate to think of your friend in the way she’d begun to think of him over the past few months. Especially when said friend was a pediatric surgeon who held babies on a daily basis and she’d begun picturing what he’d look like holding their own child. Yeah, that was a glaring warning that she was treading into dangerous territory with Alex.

What she hadn’t banked on was Jason being the worst date she’d ever been on. From the outside, they looked like a normal, carefree couple, but something within her was raising some giant, blaring red flags. Maybe it was the way Jason had insulted and disapproved of her close friendship with Alex the moment they walked out of the peds wing earlier that evening. Maybe it was the way he mansplained everything and spoke down to her. Maybe it was the way he roughly grabbed her arm and raised his voice when she said something he disagreed with.

She needed an out and she needed one fast.

Alex was standing in the corner of the bar playing darts, periodically glancing at Jo and the guy she was with. He made sure to get a really good look at this Jason guy, memorizing his face enough to imagine it on the dart board as he flicked his wrist and hit a bullseye. One second he was pulling a dart out of the board and taking a swig of his beer and the next, someone was tugging on his arm to get his attention.

“Kiss me,” Jo looked up at him with wide eyes.

“What?” Alex sputtered his drink.

“Jason. He’s the worst one Alex. The worst. And he’s at the bar getting more drinks and I need to get away from him,” Jo rambled.

“I still don’t understand how—”

“Just kiss me,” Jo blurted, eyes desperate. “Public displays of affection make people uncomfortable.”

“Yes, they do,” Alex responded dumbly, still unsure as to what was going on.

He didn’t have any time to think about it though, because as before he knew what was going on, Alex was being pulled into a searing kiss. While this wasn’t the way he’d pictured his first kiss with Jo going, he wasn’t complaining. Not when he could feel her this close to him. Not when her tongue met his own. Not when he could hear her whimpers as she deepened the kiss.

They could’ve kept going. They would’ve kept going, if it weren’t for Jason’s angry interruption, “You little bitch. I should’ve known you were a liar when you said that there was nothing going on between you and Karev.”

“Jason—” Jo attempted a weak protest.

“No, you know what? I dodged a bullet with you Wilson. I don’t need to be dating a whore,” Jason’s fists balled up at his sides.

Seeing the red in Jason’s eyes and his fists ready to strike, Alex intervened, “Don’t you dare call her that or any insult ever again. She’s not your girlfriend, she’s not even your friend. She didn’t cheat on you. So, if I hear you ever disrespect her like that again, you’re gonna want to skip town and that’s a promise.”

Jason glared at them in disgust before turning on his heels and walking out of the bar.

It wasn’t until Jason was long gone that they were reminded of what had happened minutes prior. Staring up at each other with the strangest expressions on their faces, Alex and Jo waited in silence for a moment. Because what were you supposed to say when you kissed your best friend and you liked it?

The question was, where do they go from here?

With the surfacing of Jo’s thoughts about Alex blaring

loudly in her mind, Jo mumbled a small, “thank you” in order to avoid the very real possibility that she’d just thrown this friendship down the toilet.

Alex nodded awkwardly at her appreciation, “Yeah… don’t mention it.”

And for the first time in months, the end of a horrendous date was not celebrated with Jo and Alex hanging out. It was spent alone.

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buffywatching · 3 years ago

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the hardest thing to do in this world is live in it.

and that’s about a wrap on s5.

good lord! and as i’ve said many times good GOD! it was a season alright!!!!!!!

wanna start this one off by saying whoa did i go through it quick (for me). season 4 took me more than a MONTH to get through (i’m blaming riley) and season 5 went by in like.. 2 weeks?

glory is very strange. there’s a lot that happened in this season but in no way did i think she’d get wrapped up that fast. she was kind of the mary sue of the big bads - op, immortal, unkillable, all that stuff.. she wasn’t boring, but her act got old after a while. ben was nothing.

when i first started documenting my thoughts and opinions on this show back in s2 i never knew i would end up not knowing how to classify the good and the bad. back then it was ‘oh good, willows got new hair!’ not ‘oh god, buffy’s gone into catatonia from years of trauma because she thinks she’s killed her sister, a god is amidst them with no way to die and she has to save the world from apocalypse yet again’. back then all the trauma was new and exciting, and good for people that were merely watching the scoobies go through it, but now? some part of me needs to pay for everyone’s therapy for multiple years. more so than before, somehow.

so.. some Things (ambiguously good or bad) happened:

- spuffy.. but not. a little window of realisation, but nothing actual. i hope to see something happen in s6

- but that also means buffy’s gone without dating for a WHOLE SEASON!!!!

- dawn is buffy’s sister.. well, she was a key, but now that’s over. so? what is she now??

- glory.. ben… their terrible minions. and so on. still waiting for a big bad to amount to what s2 did

- xander… anya!!!! WEDDING!!!! hopefully!!

- spike and dawns little friendship means everything

- ANGEL VISITED!!!!

- joyce died and gave us an episode so good i called it a short film

- riley LEAVES!!!! FOREVER!!!! (hopefully)

- we get a ton of fanged four backstory.. WILLIAM!!

and just when you think she could use a break…..

- buffy dies. again, but it seems more real this time. of course, since i’m not in 2001 watching on my television i’m not scared the show is suddenly over because we’ve got 44 more episodes to go through.

i try not to think of what i’ll do to fill the buffy void after those 44 episodes are over with but in due time we’ll see!!

fav eps in order: fool for love, into the woods (yes. because he’s gone.), blood ties, crush, the body, spiral (probably more i’m not thinking too hard on)

however these episodes alone were so incredibly good!!!! the whole season could’ve sucked and those would’ve been worth it.

the glory fight was good! the buildup to everything was weird and the whole ‘dawn can’t find out she’s a key’ thing only lasted what.. a few weeks..? time moves very weirdly in the buffyverse. can you believe buffy’s 20 now……

did i miss anything?? dunno.. i just know i have 7 episodes of ats to catch up on. that place is a mess.

on to buffy revival!!!!! also thinking about how giles has definitely killed people before :)

#and man am i TIRED!!!!#season finales #giles very unnecessary reviews

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reddiemorelikeredyee · 5 years ago

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NOTE: Feel free to make any original content based on this album description if you want to! (lyrics, songs, art, edits, memes, etc.) I love them a lot and they warm my heart. My only request is that you give credit and tag me in the post so I can see what you made! ❤️

Traumatized is an EP that shows off the band's calmer side. There is a almost lofi feel to the album not previously done by the band. Shark Puppy is known for changing up their style frequently, so this isn't surprising, but it was still received with critical acclaim. It seems that this band can truly do it all and do it well. The EP has songs written by each member about their childhoods, bullying, and coming to terms with who they are. Each band member has said this is a very personal EP and it took a lot of discussion to be able to put it out there.

Track List

1. The New Kid written by Ben Hanscom. Hanscom, in a departure from his usual romance songs, sings about his struggle with his weight when he was in middle school and high school. This track is soft and has very sweet whistling, which Hanscom recorded himself. He talks about the bullying, the failed diets, and the days alone in the library. But Hanscom picks himself up, makes friends, and loses weight not for the bullies or his friends but for himself. "This one is for all the kids who only got called hot when they lost weight. I was handsome before, but only the important people noticed back then." Vocals on record by Ben Hanscom.

2. Dirty written by Beverly Marsh. The sound is more upbeat, but agressive. This song is about all the terrible names Beverly used to be called as a child. Bullies would spread rumors about her sleeping around and even once threw trash on her. Beverly sings about how she used to be scared of breaking societal norms or breaking rules, but now she has found freedom and joy in it. Marsh is quoted saying, "Fuck anyone who doesn't like this song. It's funky as hell." Vocals on record by Beverly Marsh.

3. Let Down written by William "Big Bill" Denbrough. This song is a more somber tune where Denbrough lets out his fear that he's failed those he loves. Denbrough has previously written and spoken about the tragic death of his younger brother Georgie, but this song also mentions him feeling like he isn't enough for his parents or his friends. That if he can't lead them properly and be perfect, he'll let them down. Denbrough has now moved past that thinking and now lets down his guard so he can be himself around his friends and his fans. Vocals on record by William "Big Bill" Denbrough.

4. Breathe written by Eddie Kaspbrak. Kaspbrak sings frantically over calm music about his worries. He then remembers to just breathe without going back to unhealthy coping mechanisms. Kaspbrak has been very vocal about his experience with anxiety and wrote this song "to show people that recovery from trauma is never linear, that you'll have bad days. But you push through them to get to the good days. And you never punish yourself for it. Because we're all human." Vocals on record by Eddie Kaspbrak.

5. Alone written by Mike Hanlon. After the release of the EP, Hanlon spoke out about a time during college when all of his friends had moved away, leaving him alone in his hometown. "It was the loneliest couple years of my life. But I think I learned more about myself in that time. And when everyone reunited, we were closer than ever. Now I know that even when I'm by myself, I don't have to be alone." the tune can be described as like honey and lofi, but a bit country somehow. Vocals on record by Mike Hanlon.

6. Don't Say It written by Richie Tozier. Tozier has frequently discussed his struggles with finding out about his ADHD and depression. The music is erratic, but suddenly halts and slows at certain points. He left home at eighteen for college. He talks about meeting new people at college and in the entertainment industry who didn't accept him for who he was, who told him to not talk so much. Tozier has been very open about his past addiction problems and sings in this song about using it to become someone more palatable, more marketable. After reuniting with his childhood friends some years later and forming Shark Puppy, he "eased back into being himself, went to therapy, and started running my mouth again. Now they can't get me to shut the fuck up." Vocals on record by Richie Tozier.

7. Disappointment written by Stanley Uris. A more acoustic sound than the other tracks, with birds singing in the background. Uris sings about growing up as the son of a Rabbi and never being enough for his father. Always being the disappointment of the family. He came out as pansexual at seventeen and was promptly kicked out of his home, told to never come back. "My father didn't like that I didn't fit his idea of what a son should be. I had to learn the hard way that he wasn't my idea of what a father should be. Now he's my disappointment." Vocals on record by Stanley Uris.

#shark puppy #shark puppy album #my song #ben hanscom #beverly marsh #bill denbrough #eddie kaspbrak #mike hanlon #richie tozier #stanley uris #it #it chapter one #it chapter two #losers club

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heartofether · 4 years ago

Text

Episode 1 - Pilot TRANSCRIPT

[You can listen to the show wherever you get your podcasts, or go to our “Listen” page if you’re on desktop.]

AUTOMATED VOICE

Please state your message.

[THEME MUSIC AND INTRODUCTION PLAYS.]

VAL

Three-Eyed Frog Presents: The Heart of Ether.

[THEME CONTINUES BEFORE COMING TO A STOP.]

[PHONE BEEP.]

[INT. IRENE’S CAR, EARLY EVENING.]

[THE SOUND OF A CAR DRIVING IN THE BACKGROUND.]

IRENE

Welcome to Daughtler, Washington.

I thought it might be nice to have some company, so, hope you don’t mind. I guess I didn’t want to be alone when I started a new chapter of my life in a town where I know nothing and no one.

It’s not all fearful. I mean, of course I’m scared. I have no idea how this new job is going to go, or if the people in this town are even going to like me. Damn, what if they’re all homophobic bigots? That would suck. Not that I plan on dating or anything. No.

I’m getting off track. Yes, I’m scared, but I think I’m also excited. I’m excited to have my own house—well, I’m renting it, and it’s old as hell, but it’s still a step-up from a college dorm. I’m excited to decorate my room and my office. Oh yeah, I get to have an office at my work. I think I’m going to do that thing where I frame my Bachelor’s and hang it right above my head. That way, everyone knows that Irene Gray spent four years and a lot of money to sit in that desk chair and stare at trees all day.

Wish you were here. [THEN, SINCERE] Of course I do.

[SILENCE FOR A MOMENT.]

IRENE It’s a nice town. It definitely has that small town vibe you would expect, but it seems lively nonetheless. It’s early evening, and there’s still people walking around. They seem happy. That gives me hope.

There’s a candy store. A modern-looking restaurant. A big bookstore. [CHUCKLES] Seriously? A DVD rental store? Dude, I didn’t even know those still existed. I’ve never been in one. Goes to show the retro atmosphere of this town I guess. [SCOFFS] As if DVDs are that old.

I think I’m getting close to where my neighborhood is, though. I’m out of what seemed to be the downtown shopping area? There’s a Fry’s, of course. Corporations reach into even the most niche of rustic towns in late-stage capitalism.

[SHE PAUSES.]

IRENE

Shit, am I already lost?

I don’t know if I mentioned this, but this town didn’t show up on the map. Kinda spooky, but it could just be a mistake? People knew the name when I brought it up, and obviously I got a job here, so it’s definitely not a ghost town. It seems to be fairly populated, actually. I haven’t tried using navigation yet, but my new boss sent me a map of the town. It’s just a matter of…

[THERE’S PAPER RUSTLING.]

IRENE

Oh! Okay, there’s Lemongrass Park, I think. I know where I am now.

Turn here, and then…?

This should be it. [SHE SIGHS] Home sweet home.

[THE CAR COMES TO A STOP. IRENE TAKES THE KEYS OUT OF THE IGNITION.]

IRENE

Thankfully, Dad came down with the movers before I was able to, so it should be set up aside from the boxes in my car. He said the place was…cute. [MUTTERS] Whatever he means by that.

I should turn this off. I’ve got stuff to bring in, and then I have to sort through whatever the movers brought. I’ll, uh, talk to you later? Yeah.

[PHONE BEEP.]

[RECORDING ENDS.]

[TIME JUMP: TWO DAYS LATER.]

[ANOTHER PHONE BEEP.]

[INT. IRENE’S LIVING ROOM.]

IRENE

Hey. Sorry, I didn’t pick up where I left off the other day. Honestly, I said I was going to unpack, but after bringing some boxes inside and having an Uncrustable for dinner, I was exhausted. I just made the bed and passed out. Don’t worry, I won’t be eating like a uni student anymore. [PROUD] I actually went and got groceries today, so I will be making a proper dinner to celebrate a successful first day at work.

Yeah, I really haven’t had a chance to rest yet. Yesterday was spent unpacking and setting up the house, and today was my first day. It’s been nice, though. Being busy means I don’t have to think.

My boss, Caroline “Please, Call Me Carol” Roberts, was really sweet. She’s not that old, maybe in her late 30’s, but her face seemed aged with the weight of…I don’t know. Stress? Trauma? Her eyes make it look like she’s seen lots happen, I guess.

She also has the stereotypical southern accent, you know the one. According to her, she grew up in West Virginia before coming down to Washington for work. She even said she lived in Point Pleasant for about a year, which is wild. Imagine living in a town that is essentially just a shrine to some insect-themed cryptid. Maybe Daughtler has a local cryptid I don’t know about. That would be cool. Haven’t seen any big monstrous statues yet, but, there’s still parts of town I haven’t explored. I’ll have to look it up.

Carol seems cool, though. She definitely knows what she’s doing, which is the most important part.

Another one of my co-workers, Aden, actually said he’d bring in homemade croissants tomorrow. He said he would have brought them in today if he had known I was starting, something he profusely apologized for, but he then said that hopefully the gesture still counts. I’m looking forward to it. He’s a bit closer to my age, and from what I can tell from his office decor, really likes cats. I think you would get along with him.

You would like my house, too, I think. I’m sitting in the living room right now. It’s definitely aged, like I said, but the floral wallpaper is nice. Grandma-like, but nice. It’s almost like a cottage, with chipped white paint and bright green windowsills. Like something out of a fairytale.

It could be worse. Yeah, the floorboards creak, and it’s a bit dirty, but the electricity and A/C work just fine. That’s all I care about for now. I haven’t been in the attic yet. Maybe when I have some downtime.

[SHE PAUSES FOR A MOMENT.]

IRENE

[TONE SHIFTS TO PAINFULLY REMINISCIENT, ALMOST BITTERSWEET] I’ve thought about how you would act in this town. Which stores you would frequent. What tree in Lemongrass Park you would sit under when you want to read.

I drove past the elementary school today during pickup, and saw one of the teachers—this old woman—waving at students as they left. I thought about if that was you. You would send your students off for the day, and then come home to our little house. We would make dinner while music played from the old radio the landlord left. We’d have cats, and there would be a garden in the backyard. Every night, after dinner, we would fall asleep together to the sound of crickets outside our bedroom window.

[SHE CLEARS HER THROAT.] I know I’m getting ahead of myself, but I can’t help it. It’s an instinct for me at this point. Wherever I go, I think about if you were there with me.

[A BITTERSWEET LAUGH.] I thought time would heal all wounds, but sometimes, Rose? It feels like I miss you more and more each day. I mean, look at me. It’s been four years, I’ve graduated college, and yet I’m still recording messages for someone I knew in high school.

[QUIET] Maybe I should stop these. The audio recordings. [ALMOST ANGRY] They helped a lot at first, but now? They’re just starting to feel like more of a diary. If that’s all I need, then hell, I can go buy a notebook and start a diary.

If I ever want to fully move on, I don’t think I can keep speaking to you. Work seems like it’s going to keep me occupied, anyways. If I do decide to stop doing these, then I’ll at least do a—

[A SUDDEN PAUSE AS SHE SEES SOMETHING.]

IRENE

What the hell? Sorry, I just—I’m looking around, and—

[EERIE MUSIC BEGINS PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND. THERE ARE FOOTSTEPS ACROSS THE CREEKY WOODEN FLOOR AS IRENE WALKS OVER TO WHAT SHE SEES.]

IRENE

[DISGUSTED] What is that? It looks like, mold? No, it’s yellow, I think, and it’s seeped into the corner, both in the floorboards and up the wall. It’s not a lot, but it reeks. How did I not notice this before? Dad never mentioned anything about a mold or mildew problem, and he came to spot the house before I did.

Makes me think of rotten meat, or puss, but it’s not even liquid. It looks dry. Not that I’m going to touch it to find out.

You know what?

[EERIE MUSIC ENDS. THERE IS THE SOUND OF A CHAIR BEING DRAGGED ACROSS THE FLOOR TO COVER THE MOLD.]

IRENE

[UNUSUALLY UPBEAT] I’ll just ignore it for now. If it keeps spreading, then, well, that’s a problem I can deal with later.

Right, I should go make dinner. I know I said before that I like being busy because I don’t like to think, but now I do have some stuff to think about. [HESITATES] I’ll talk to you soon. Maybe.

Goodbye, Rose.

[PHONE BEEP.]

[RECORDING ENDS.]

AUTOMATED VOICE

Today’s quote is: “I try to make sense of things. Which is why, I guess, I believe in destiny. There must be a reason that I am as I am. There must be.”

Robin Williams in Bicentennial Man, 1999.

[THEME MUSIC AND CREDITS PLAY.]

#heart of ether transcripts

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buzzdixonwriter · 4 years ago

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Ellison’s Law

Even for the early 1960s, Burke’s Law was a silly gimmick show.

The gimmick? Millionaire Amos Burke, despite inheriting fabulous wealth, always wanted to be a detective so he joined the LAPD and worked his way up to captain of the homicide bureau.

Basically Batman without the trauma or costume.

And like Batman of a few years later, an exercise in camp.

The show was rigidly formulaic, but for practical reasons. It relied heavily on stunt casting celebrities as suspects or witnesses and as such it had to be flexible enough to handle rewrites and re-castings in the middle of production.

The typical episode began with someone found murdered or shown getting killed in some unusual manner, cut to Amos Burke flirting with a lady only to be called away by his police duties. Cue the opening title as Burke and his driver hurry out of his relatively modest Beverly Hills mansion to his Rolls-Royce (actually producer Aaron Spelling’s car which he rented back to the production) as a sultry female voice incants: “It’s Burke’s Law” then after the first commercial break Burke arrives at the scene of the crime and finds clues pointing him to four or five suspects.

Said suspects are the celebrity guest stars, recruited either to give them some manic scenery chewing time or -- more rarely -- an intense dramatic scene.

After three more commercial breaks, Burke intones one of his “laws” (“Burke’s law: Never ask a question where you don’t already know the answer.”), pulls a rabbit out of his hat / solution out of his butt, and fingers that episode’s duly appointed murderer.

The problem with the series as a whole is that it could never quite decide on what tone it wanted to take and stick with it consistently. The British series The Avengers found the perfect balance of tongue-in-cheek / derring-do but Burke’s Law bounced all over the spectrum, frequently in the same episode.

So why bring up this mediocre TV show at all?

Two words: Harlan Ellison

. . .

I’ve posted many times before on Harlan’s career and the impact of his writing and friendship on me.

He was in the mid 1960s at his zenith as a TV writer, and while his writing career as a whole encompasses so much more than that, his brief run as one of the meteors streaking across the Hollywood sky only lasted 4 years.

Oh, he kept writing for TV after that, but the old zing was gone. He supplied stories for other series, created and fought hard to keep The Starlost on track but eventually had to walk away from that heartbreak, adapted several of his own short stories to a Twilight Zone revival, as well as numerous development deals that went nowhere (including two great ideas for The Name Of The Game, another Gene Barry series, that would have fit perfectly into that show’s oeuvre).

If you find his second book of TV criticism, The Other Glass Teat, check out his first draft for “The Whimper Of Whipped Dogs” episode of The Young Lawyers (not to be confused with his short story of the same title).

It’s one of the most powerful / gut wrenching things you’ll ever read…

…but by the time the studio and the network got through with it, the final product was virtually unrecognizable…and unwatchable.

Such was Harlan’s fate after 1967 in Clown Town (as he referred to it).

But from 1963 to 1967, he was golden.

. . .

Harlan’s rocky personal history went through many highs and lows before coming to Hollywood in 1962.

Harlan’s first breakthrough as a writer was with his series of stories and essays on juvenile crime in New York in the early and mid-1950s..

Drafted in 1957. following his discharge, he settled in Chicago with his second wife and her son, editing Rogue magazine, a Playboy imitator.

Feeling his personal life becoming untenable, he called in favors from a friend, drove out to California with his soon-to-be ex-wife and stepson (aware the marriage was over, she also wanted to relocate away from Chicago), made his first sale to TV (his short story “No Fourth Commandment” to the TV show Route 66), then briefly found a sweet spot with Burke’s Law, writing four teleplays for their first season.

Burke’s Law is a good crucible for examination because of its silly, gimmicky nature and rigid format requirements.

These scripts represent a pivotal point in Harlan’s writing career, but more importantly, they mark the only sustained run he enjoyed on a non-anthology show, and as such make a good benchmark in comparing his growth as a writer and how his unique perspective played out in in relation to the constraints of episodic television.

While a couple of Harlan’s better science fiction / fantasy stories were written before 1963, the meteoric rise of his career in those genres began with his classic short story “’Repent, Harlequin!’ Said The Ticktockman” in 1965, followed by a host of other groundbreaking short stories and novellas, and his original anthologies Dangerous Visions and Again, Dangerous Visions in which he recruited other science fiction and fantasy writers -- many of them already well established pros -- to follow the path he blazed in the genre.

His experience on Burke’s Law occurs squarely between what he once was to what he was becoming, and as such is worthy of attention.

SPOILER: There are no great hidden gems here.

There’s a lot of amusing writing, and a few flashes of the emotional intensity Harlan could provide, but by and large this is journeyman level stuff: Better than most, but not the best.

. . .

”Who Killed Alex Debbs?” was his first script for the series, and he pitched it to producer Aaron Spelling at a cattle call after a screening of the show’s pilot episode.

Harlan jump started the pitch process by improvising an idea off the cuff at the end of the screening, and Spelling took him to his office to hear how Harlan planned to resolve it, then hired him on the spot.

It’s unclear if Harlan was actually a staff writer on the series or simply hung out at the studio a lot, but he used his skills as a quick study to start working his way up the food chain.

His first script fulfills all the requirements of a Burke’s Law episode and shows off two of Harlan’s main strengths: An ability to hone in on intense emotion and a keen eye for the culture around him (in this case, very specifically Hollywood of the early 1960s).

On the downside, logic gaps render this story more implausible than most -- and as noted, Burke’s Law as a series wasn’t famous for its plausibility.

A flaw of almost all Burke’s Law episodes is that the victim is typically found dead under mysterious / bizarre circumstances, and the impression we get of them is constructed entirely through the words of suspects and witnesses.

It’s not an unworkable approach, but not the best suited for episodic television.

In this instance. victim Alex Drebbs is a Hugh Hefner-like men’s magazine publisher and monarch of a mini-empire of key clubs ala the Playboy Clubs of the era. Harlan captures that milieu well but here’s where the logic gaps hit hard: There’s no way a Hefner-like figure would be alone long enough for someone to kill him without being noticed, there’s no way his disappearance wouldn’t be immediately noticed by employees needing his attention, and it sure as hell wouldn’t have happened in a deserted club on the afternoon of its big opening.

On the plus side, there are some great character scenes including Arlene Dahl as a bitter ex-investor in Debbs empire now reduced to licking saving stamps to keep her decay mansion in repair, Burgess Meredith as a men’s magazine cartoonist who is nothing but a bundle of neurotic twitches and tics, and finally Sammy Davis Jr as Cordwainer Bird, the humor editor for Debbs’ magazine.

This was at the Robin Williams stage of Davis career, when all you had to do was point a camera in his direction and let him go. Harlan supplied the corny gags but Davis launched them over the top with his antics, and while he brings the proceedings to a complete disruptive halt, his brief scene is the most entertaining in the entire series. (Harlan later used Cordwainer Bird as his WGA pseudonym when he wanted to indicate displeasure at what had been done to his scripts.)

By his own account, Harlan had less luck with Diana Dors -- “the British Marilyn Monroe” -- and treated her condescendingly during the shoot. (By comparison, William Goldman in his memoir Adventures In The Screen Trade shows a much more sanguine / roll-with-the-punches attitude, and that might explain part of the reason his screenwriting trajectory was far different than Harlan’s.)

All in all, an uneven example of both the series and Harlan’s abilities.

. . .

”Who Killed Purity Mather?” was Harlan’s second script for the series and one of the few that played with the rigid format of the series insofar as the victim is seen alive for a few moments before being killed in a rather sadistic and spectacular manner (splashed with acid then trapped in a burning house, and the high angle shot used to show her demise must have been incredibly risky -- and thus costly -- to film).

It also drops a very subtle clue that I’ll reveal in the footnote.*

This is Harlan going so far over the top he emerges on the other side. Plotwise it features more logic gaps than his first script, but the whole thing is so silly it’s pointless to complain about it.

Purity Mather is a professional witch (!) who speeds up the investigation into her own demise by mailing Amos Burke a recording saying she’ll be killed along with a list of five possible suspects (that she doesn’t mention them by name in the recording reflects the show’s desire for standalone scenes, enabling them to recast and rewrite plotlines more easily; the scene where Burke reads the names to his team was doubtlessly shot after the guest cast was locked in).

Burke & co. start shaking down suspects, including Telly Savalas as Fakir George O'Shea, a Muslim holy man / cosmetics chemist (!!); Charlie Ruggles as I. A. Bugg, an eccentric elderly millionaire who likes to chase -- but not catch -- prostitutes around his apartment while dressed in lederhosen(!!!); Wally Cox as Count Carlo Szipesti, vampire for hire (!!!!); and Gloria Swanson as Venus Hekate Walsh a fright wig bedecked self-proclaimed goddess of free love (!!!!!).

The episode might as well have had a laugh track. It’s amusing with several daft touches only Harlan could provide, but the daftness comes from his take on Hollywood culture of the time.

I’d go so far as to say elements of Cox and Swanson’s characters were based on real life people living in and around Hollywood at the time, in particular some science fiction fans Harlan had come in contact with.

It’s a romp but a disappointing one. The logic gaps are too big in this one (case in point, if you’re the captain of the homicide bureau and you come home to see a masked figure climbing out of your second story window in broad daylight, you don’t simply shrug and let them run off) and the ending is one of those annoying ah-yes-now-that-you-caught-me-I-will-admit-everything-even-stuff-you-don’t-know cappers that Joe Ruby and Ken Spears would have rejected for Scooby Doo.

In short, a script whose parts are better than the whole.

. . .

”Who Killed Andy Zygmunt?" is another slight story that pays off with an insight into Hollywood pop culture of the era. The victim is “a pop artist” (no, he’s not; he an assemblage sculptor) impaled on his own artwork.

He’s also revealed to be an extortionist who acquires embarrassing evidence that he affixes to his assemblages then blackmails his victims into buying the art to keep their secrets safe.

Once again Burke is conveniently handed a list of suspects, in this case the people who bought the last five pieces of art from the exhibit.

This is one of the few times the series had more than one suspect in the same scene as there’s a big gathering in Burke’s office midway through the story (it also includes Michael Fox, a semi-regular on the series playing the coroner, so it represents a pretty sizeable filming day for the show). The suspects include Macdonald Carey as Burl Mason, the star of a popular TV detective show (Harlan gives his scenes what we would now call a meta-fiction touch by playing off Barry’s fictional TV detective dealing with a fictional fictional TV detective); Jack Weston as Silly McCree, a kid’s show host who destroys his career with an on air anti-child rant; Ann Blyth as Deirdre DeMara, a rival “pop artist” who creates her art by spraying women with paint and having them roll around on giant canvases (a gimmick later used in the bizarre 1966 Ann-Margaret comedy The Swinger); Aldo Ray as Mister Harold, former pro-wrestler turned poodle groomer; and Tab Hunter in a surprisingly well done scene as a sky diving playboy.

Hunter’s scene in particular shows Harlan getting his hyperbole under control, much more laconic and evocative than other characters he wrote for the series. As mentioned above, Burke’s Law occurs just on the cusp of Harlan’s huge success in print; he’s beginning to harness the lessons learned to maximum effect. (He would have some setbacks, too, in his screenwriting career, and to be honest part of that can be attributed to his failure to consistently apply the lessons learned, part of it can be attributed to his reputation preceding him, and part of it can be attributed to just bad luck.)

The motives this time are fairly edgy for a 1963 TV series, and combined with the slices of Los Angeles life Harlan provides give a fair example of the cultural zeitgeist of the era.

. . .

”Who Killed ½ Of Glory Lee?” can be explained as Benjamin Glory, half owner of Glory Lee Fashions, with Gisele MacKenzie as the other half, Keekee Lee.

After breaking the budget with his spectacular demise of Purity Mather, Harlan staged this murder as an inexpensive off camera elevator plunge.

This time the plot is a wee bit more plausible, with control of a profitable business being the apparent motive for the murder.

But Harlan loaded up this episode with a more powerful emotional punch than most of his others, and while the dénouement may feel a bit farfetched, it certainly rings true emotionally.

He certainly gave Nina Foch and Anne Helm plenty to work with regarding their characters’ complicated mother / daughter relationship, yet at the same time found room for a playful scene in which Buster Keaton pantomimes his answers to Burke’s questions.

Yet at the same time one senses an impatience behind the keyboard. The opening scene has a squad of female elevator operators (yes, once upon a time there needed to be somebody in the elevator to push the buttons for you) discussing pop culture references of a generation before -- Harlan’s generation.

And while the key emotional conflicts are played out well, several of the other scenes feel rather perfunctory…yet at the same time this is probably the most cohesive whole of any Burke’s Law script, whether written by Harlan or not.

It’s as if after a brief but profitable run on a network series, Harlan realized he’d absorbed as much of the practical end of the business as he could and his next moves should be into broader, edgier territory.

* SPOILER: Purity Mather is the murderer; she connives a career nudist (!!!!!!) to participate in a magic ceremony then disfigures and kills her, leaving evidence that she hopes will convince the police the body is hers. The subtle clue Harlan drops is the victim, wearing a long black negligee, complaining about how she doesn’t like the feel of the clothes. A nice touch, but undercut by Purity then going to the nudist camp her victim operates and waiting in the buff by the front gate for the police to show up and question the career nudist -- whom Purity has mentioned as a suspect in her faked murder. While it works insofar as Purity doesn’t try to pass herself off to anyone else at the camp as the career nudist, it doesn’t scan that she would know when the police would come to investigate or if they could be easily convinced at the gate and not come in to question other patrons.

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nightklok · 4 years ago

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YOU KNOW I'M GONNA SAY CHARLES/PICKLES FOR THAT SHIP MEME :D

Shipping Meme [Open]

AAA AND I LOVE YOU FOR THAT-

My ADHD is incredibly strong tonight so enjoy the rambling headcanons I have because I just love them too much ;^;-

General:

How long will they last? - Forever obviously, they’re in it for the long road ahead!

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - I think it was a gradual thing for sure! Definitely met during the SnB era and Charles was the one who fell in love quickly though wasn’t much aware of it until later. Pickles had probably become a bit wearier of falling in love then so it took him a bit longer to admit he even had feelings for him. They probably didn’t even admit it until years later when they began to work for Dethklok-

How was their first kiss? - they probably didn’t have a first kiss until nearly a decade or two of meeting each other, they were really fucking awkward haha-But I think their first kiss together would be sweet; they probably had a really well needed heart-to-heart talk and just eventually, it happened.

Wedding:

Who proposed? - Charles 100%-it’s nothing elaborate or extraordinary, just quiet and probably between them while they’re alone or planned with the boys.

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Technically the rating would be a 2 as their first ‘ceremony’ would be those quick courthouse weddings. I mainly like the idea of them getting engaged and possibly married sometime after Doomstar and before they have to confront Salacia. Kind of in a ‘now or never’ kind of situation but they both would’ve gotten married regardless of the prophecy or not. Though once the prophecy is fulfilled, the boys will insist they have a proper big red wedding

Who is the best man/men? Pickles initially chose all of Dethklok to be his best men to avoid a battle to the death combat. Though, later on it became safer for him to officially choose one best man and that would be Nathan. For Charles, it was easier and he chose his best man to be Huey Lewis, no explanation further needed.

-Who did the most planning? Definitely not them-the boys, Dick, and Abigail would’ve insisted that they do the planning. Magnus and Murderface were the only ones to actually know about organizing a wedding surprisingly, actually asked for their input but kept it as vague as possible, and despite the ridiculously typical setbacks, managed to pull off a pretty elaborate wedding that they were both pretty pleased with.

-Who stressed the most? Charles definitely-since everyone wanted to keep it a ‘surprise’ and he knows pretty well that a surprise from them is going to either be really extravagant, out of this world wedding or a Hot Topic Parking Lot wedding. Luckily, they got the first.

-Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - Rockso and Pickles’ family for sure. They didn’t even know they got married until it ended up on the Dethklok Minute and they were pissed but Pickles probably got his new family through Charles (if they’re alive and decent?) and by extension, Dethklok so to Pickles, his real family was at the wedding (no matter how many times they tried to argue that to him.) Seth probably sent him that blender as a wedding gift though

Sex:

Who is on top? - Top/bottom roles are non-existent to them; it’s really on whatever they’re up for at the moment.

Who is the one to instigate things? - Pickles obviously; if he feels like Charles is working a bit too much or they haven’t done it in a while (three days), he’ll definitely instigate. Considering how well he knows him and what gets him riled up, Charles never says no-

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? - It can depend on how horny they both are or if they just want to take their time-probably lasts between under half an hour to an hour.

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - It’s probably hard of them to be completely sure if they’ve been going at it repeatedly but really it’s all up to when one has had enough and the other will stop for the night. Or if the other doesn’t feel satisfied enough, they’ll easily come up with something quick to do. Overall, it’s just making sure that the other is satisfied at the end of the night!

How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory. (Pickles accounts for like 80% of this, hands down-)

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - none-Pickles is a Trans Male is a theory I take to the grave but I do headcanon he got bottom surgery. Even if he didn’t, they’re both too old (fuckin rip), and raising children is way too much responsibility/commitment for their lifestyle and there’s probably that lingering feeling that they might get called to fulfill their roles again so it would be borderline selfish to put kids into trauma/danger. (Charles spent years basically raising man-children he needs the retirement haha)

How many children will they adopt? - I don’t think they’ll adopt either, for reasons I stated above. I kinda like to think that when they retire or move away from Mordhaus to create their own home, they become that couple that opens their home to whatever troubled teens/kids/young adults need a place to stay, no questions asked. They might end up fostering a teen or two or take temporary custody if a situation calls for it. It just never turns to an official adoption and if the kids stay for a longer period of time, they end up making sure they get put in a good foster/adoptive family.

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - Probably Pickles though the situations where he had to watch over a baby/toddler while their older sibling went to school/work was very few and far between (the dude lived through the 80s with hairspray and everything, no smell can get to him now-)

Who is the stricter parent? - I think it depends on the situation. Pickles can be a bit stricter than Charles surprisingly because there is no way you’d be able to lie or try and go behind his back. If he sees that a particular kid reminds him of himself, he may just be a bit stricter than usual and it has to be Charles to remind him that the kids are in good hands now. Besides that, Charles is definitely strict but fair. He’s just as hard trying to go behind his back and can actually ground them (he’s not even their legal guardian, they just know he can’t be messed with.)

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Charles definitely-But usually he’s the last to find out about it haha-

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Charles (though mainly he remembers to tell Pickles as he’s the one who has the time to make it in the mornings)

Who is the more loved parent? - They both are for their own reasons! Charles is loved for helping them with advice, homework, whatever they need and being the stricter parent needed for the troubled kids’ lives and Pickles is loved for being the laidback parent who genuinely takes interest in their interests and helps encourage them to follow their dreams.

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? Neither; both are too busy in their own lives. Charles tried once for the hell of it. He realized it was the most difficult meeting he had ever sat through, even hosting meetings for Dethklok. Never again.

Who cried the most at graduation? - Pickles; he’s especially emotional about it if it’s the most troubled kids that invited them. Very proud of all the kids who remembered them enough to invite them to their graduations.

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - Pickles-but he might fuck up in the process and Charles would have to bail them both out of jail-

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - There are klokateers for it but Charles does sometimes like to surprise Pickles with some of his favorite food!

Who is the pickiest in their food choice? - Charles; Pickles’ food palette is non-existent so he’s willing to eat anything. Charles? Not so much.

Who does the grocery shopping? - Neither; thank god for living in Mordhaus- (And even after that, they just hire someone to do it for them-)

How often do they bake desserts? - Fairly often, it’s become a pretty quick date night for them! They like to make macaroons, pies, or whatever they have their heart set and just enjoy the next few hours of getting some quality alone time.

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - Meat all the way-

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - Charles once again! Though Pickles does surprise with an anniversary dessert. It’s not really a surprise if they both know the other will cook them something but it’s the thought that counts!

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - Pickles; while it’s fun having small dates inside, he definitely suggests going someplace else whenever they have the time.

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidentally while cooking? - Toki

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - Charles cleans his own room, Pickles gets a klokateer to do it though recently he’s been cleaning his own room? Wow, Charles is rubbing off on him.

Who is really against chores? - Pickles; they can just hire help like the rich jackoffs, who the fuck needs to do chores?

Who cleans up after the pets? - They don’t have pets but it’d probably be Pickles.

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Pickles but thank God he’s never really asked to clean much-

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - Charles

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Whatever klokateer cleans mordhaus and/or their house--

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - Charles; he knows self-care very well and often makes sure his schedule has a few hours to himself so he can do just that! Definitely has fallen asleep in the bathtub more than once but Pickles luckily memorized his schedule haha

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - They both would! By the time they adopt a dog, they probably both would have time to do it together :)

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - They hate the idea of it; probably hire klokateers or whoever to do it for them-

What are their goals for the relationship? - They just want to be able to complete the other without overstepping boundaries. There are probably things that both are afraid of bringing up or reminding the other. It’s no longer become a game of walking on eggshells because they have known each other for so long and know what their intentions will be. They aren’t going to change the other unless the other genuinely wants to change. They will simply help fill in the gaps the other lacks so naturally like they fit in together.

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - Pickles, not that Charles lets him anyway-

Who plays the most pranks? - Pickles but even then the pranks are pretty rare or more of ways to get Charles out of the office (’Hey Charlie, Nathan is tryin’ to sneak a whale in his room again’ But then it turns out that Nathan really tried doing that so who knows if it was even a prank-)

#lampmeeting #Charles Offdensen #Pickles the Drummer #chickles #I'm surprised how long this came out slkjdf #but this got me focused so thank you so much for asking ;-;#I hope you enjoyed!!!

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arrowdaily · 5 years ago

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Next week’s episode of Arrow not only serves as a backdoor pilot for a potential spin-off called Green Arrow and the Canaries, starring Katherine McNamara, Katie Cassidy, and Juliana Harkavy, but it also dives right into the post-“Crisis on Infinite Earths” reality. In the epic five-hour crossover, Oliver Queen—aka the Green Arrow, aka the Spectre—gave up his life to reboot the multiverse and, in the process, helped create a brand new reality in which many things have changed.

What does that mean for Mia? Well, everything actually. In this new post-“Crisis” timeline, Mia never got a chance to meet her father, grew up very comfortably, and is blissfully ignorant of the horrific experiences she endured in the other reality. Well, that is until she regains all of those memories after crossing paths with Laurel and Dinah aka the Canaries, and then her entire world is shaken as she’s drawn back into the hoods and masks business and takes up the Green Arrow mantle.

Ahead of the big episode, EW chatted with McNamara about this new version of her character and how Mia actually benefits from this post-“Crisis” reality.

Entertainment Weekly: How did you react when you first read this script? Katherine McNamara: This script has been a really interesting figuring out of what the next steps are, especially given “Crisis,” especially given everything that’s happened. It’s sort of that big question of “Okay, what’s next? What now? Where do we go from here?” I think it’s been a really wonderful collaboration with [showrunner] Beth [Schwartz] and [creator] Marc [Guggenheim] and [co-executive producer] Oscar [Balderrama] and [executive producer] Jill [Blankenship], and all of us coming together and figuring out what all of this means for Mia and what it means for her future and for the future in general.

This Mia has led a very different life because of what happened in “Crisis.” She has this perfect life. How does this version of Mia differ from the one we got to know? KM: It’s a very huge departure in some senses, and in others not all. In essence, this Mia hasn’t known any kind of sorrow or hardship or anything unhappy in her life other than the fact that her father died before she was born, or before she had any real experience with him. Aside from that, she has a perfect life—Star City has been safe—and she has had every opportunity at her fingertips because of her father’s sacrifice. So given that, she still has very similar issues of abandonment in that she hasn’t had her father and she knows it was his choice, but she knows it was for the greater good. She’s lived her entire life with the responsibility of being the daughter of the Green Arrow. That is held in such a high regard in Star City that it’s given her every opportunity. But she was still raised by Felicity. She’s still the same cutting, very smart, very cunning, adept young woman who has a sensibility about her but is a little lost. She hasn’t yet found her passion. She doesn’t know what she wants to do with her life, and there’s nothing in her life that gives her that spark yet. That’s kind of where we’re left with her graduating college and hitting some real milestones in her life and sort of going, “I have everything at my fingertips, but I’m not content.”

What was it like to explore a different and lighter side of this character? KM: It was a really interesting journey because Mia has always had a sense of humor. That sort of levity has always existed and that little bit of Smoak snark that we all know and love. But it’s a different perspective. Where the Mia we know and love is very adept with her fighting skills, this Mia is very adept at her social skills. So it’s an expertise but in a completely different skill set and sort of learning how she relates to her brother and the other people in her life. It’s been a really fun journey of discovery.

Mia eventually gets her memories back. How does that shake things up for her? KM: It changes everything because in that sense she has two sets of memories and two realities almost living inside of her. The original one we’ve seen over the past few seasons and then she has this other life that she has known and loved, but she has a fully emotional attachment to both of them. So she’s constantly being pulled in multiple directions and [by] multiple parts of herself and trying to figure out what to do with this knowledge and with this memory of what it means to be a hero and responsibility. Also, the last time she wore her Green Arrow suit—the first time she wore her Green Arrow suit—she lost her father. So there’s a lot of trauma that comes back and Mia is not necessarily equipped to deal with trauma of any kind, let alone trauma of this gravity.

Juggling memories from two different realities in your mind is something none of us will probably ever have to deal with. How did you go about grounding that struggle for yourself? KM: It’s all about finding those moments where the different sides of her come out because it’s still the same girl at her core, just with a different set of experiences and a different set of circumstances. So it was really fun to see how her different instincts come out given the situation. Once she has memories back, we see these little flashes of the old Mia and how her instinct and training snap into play. There are other instances in which the old Mia wouldn’t have been able to well, but now with this new Mia’s social skills and the way she handles her life and the connections she has in Star City, she’s able to solve the problems in a different than she would’ve previously. So it almost extends and broadens Mia’s skill set and allows her to be an even more adept member of the team.

What were your favorite scenes from the pilot? KM: There are so many moments that I look back on. There’s some that I can’t talk about — they’re such spoilers and I can’t wait to discuss them further. But I would say one element that’s really special is the Mia-William relationship. We really got to see in season 8 how much they grew and how much they came together as a result of meeting their father and having to find their mother and deal with all of their issues together. Then in this new reality, they’ve had their entire life together and they’ve had a chance to really become siblings in the best way. They have almost a closer relationship. But then even when Mia gets her memories back, she remembers everything Mia went through in the other reality and she almost becomes more protective of her brother and more understanding of their situation. I love working with Ben Lewis and I love that relationship, and I think it just deepens it even more with this new sensibility.

Last time we spoke, you said that the Queen and Diggle families will always be connected. What does that relationship look like in this new reality? KM: It certainly plays into it in a big way, but I can’t say any more than that without getting in trouble.

#katherine mcnamara #s8 #8x09 #interviews #news

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art-thropologist · 5 years ago

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A Portfolio of Recovery

If you’ve been following my entries, you’ll know that I recently had to go through some medical treatment. I am at a point now where I am willing to share some of the products of the art therapy that went along with that process. With each piece I’ll explain the prompt or the intention behind it and how I interpret the visual cues.

Please note that I will be talking about eating disorder behaviors, body image, and trauma. I use vague terms, but if these are triggering topics, then do not read. If you are in need of help with an ED, NEDA can get you support.

“Timeline” (2019). Color pencil on paper. Prompted.

The only instruction was to create a timeline that represents the development of my body image. Instead of using text I felt more comfortable conveying sentiments through line and color. The horizon line in the center represents the neutral base while rises indicate positive emotions and declines are negative. The timeline is divided into five stages with vertical lines; infancy, lower school, middle school, high school, and college.

The main colors change as my favorite color changed over the periods, but also reflecting other experiences. I began with blues and yellows as a toddler. Open and wide like a shining sky. I was a happy kid. Who didn’t think themselves invincible back then? I first started having issues with self worth during Elementary school. I was picked on for being ‘dumb’, bullied for being too emotional. Most of the time I was told to ignore the bullies. That doesn’t work. So then I was told not to react. That didn’t work either. It just taught me that I was the one causing issues. I began suppressing displays of emotion. I liked myself, but I figured that I was just always going to be someone else’s punching bag.

Middle school was supposed to be a time of growth. You finally become a teenager. In my case, you have a bat mitzvah and are then an adult to the community. Kids were still relentless in bullying. Add in tween hormones and angst, and you have a powder keg. I hit a growth spurt but I didn’t ‘measure up’ to the other girls. When my parent’s got divorced I blamed myself even though there was nothing I could have done. I felt buried under the pressures of being the perfect daughter as shown with the brown curve. My sister (only 3 years older than me) was my parent; waking me up, getting me to school, taking me to Hebrew school, getting me dinner, etc. Over this period I was forced to become self-sufficient. I had to. I was complimented a few times for being so adult for my age. I latched on to that as a way to build up my self worth. If i couldn’t be pretty, at least I could be mature. I was looking forward to high school as a promised land of new beginnings.

I guess I got what I wanted.

I’m not going into details about what happened. It was a traumatic event. That’s all you need to know. But it left me angry, broken, grieving, and hateful. Once again, I blamed myself even though what happened was in no way my fault. The way I was treated as a result only tore my self worth and body image to shreds. I was ugly. I was at fault. I wasn’t worth caring. I wasn’t good enough. Several years of therapy have let me process a lot of this period in my life. It was the start of my ED behaviors as I tried to make myself worth caring about. Black tainted my experience through a series of deaths. My lowest point was when I realized that I would be the next one if I didn’t get help for my ED.

Hope is purple to me. I began seriously writing in high school (nothing good. Nothing you write in high school is good. You think you’re the next Harper E. Lee or John Green with these big themes that you really don’t understand yet. But it was a way to get some of these big emotions out.) It gave me something to value about myself when I was still belittled as ‘stupid’. When I started college I began to get therapy for anxiety and my ED. Since then I’ve been building myself again. I am stronger. I am a survivor. I do not exist for the approval of others. It sparked a new light, a new fire for me.

“Dance” (2019). Colored pencil on paper. Free draw.

The three overlapping figures represent different dance styles that I’ve done. Red is Hula/Shawl. Green is Irish Step. Blue is Judaic Circle. It all overlaps to me.

“Movement” (2019). Oil pastel on paper. Prompted

Visualizing a group exercise where we were passing items across space. I’m the blue.

“Animals” (2019). Colored pencil and watercolor on paper. Prompted.

Draw three animals. The first is how you think others see you. The second is how you see yourself. The third is who you want to be.

Owl. The wise one. Solitary. Nocturnal. Independent. An omen maybe.

Salmon. Swimming upstream and trying to overcome the currents. Needs others to survive.

Fox. Cunning. Sleek. Adaptive. Wild.

I like the insular style of Tomm Moore and definitely took inspiration here. I wanted all of the animals to be connected in some way, so that style seemed best suited to that.

“Pondshore” (2020). Oil and chalk pastel on paper. Prompted.

What stood out the most during a walk outside?

“Nature walk” (2019). Crayon and oil pastel on paper. Prompted.

How did the nature walk make you feel?

I felt movement from the trees blowing in the wind, the grey sky over head, and my own body.

“How rare and beautiful it is to even exist” (2020). Pencil on paper. Prompted.

Create a mandala.

I pulled on the Tomm Moore style again with all of the components flowing into each other in some way. There are birds flying into the distance, a vine that becomes a raging sea, a woman before a fire, a sun in the sky and a half moon setting. Yes, the title is from Saturn by Sleeping at Last.

“Lyric” (2019). Colored pencil and pencil on paper. Prompted.

What inspires you?

I use sinuous lines of lyrics create my figure. I’m inspired by music and these are songs which have stuck with me.

Blue: “Hello, I've been waiting for you/ I didn't know if you'd recognize my voice/ Cause I've been whispering your name and I've been imagining this day hoping that I’ll say/ Welcome home/ Welcome home. (“Welcome Home” by Joy Williams)

Orange: “Well, I've been deep in this sleeplessness/ I don't know why/ Just can't get away from myself/ When I get back on my feet I'll blow this open wide/ And carry me home in good health” (“Who Do You Love” by Marianas Trench)

Red: “This is gospel for the fallen ones/ Locked away in permanent slumber/ If you love me let me go/ 'Cause these words are knives that often leave scars/ The fear of falling apart” (“This is Gospel” by P!ATD)

Yellow: “How do you write like you're/ Running out of time?/ Write day and night like you're/ Running out of time?/ Like you're running out of time/ Are you running out of time?/ How do you write like tomorrow won't arrive?” (“Non-Stop” from Hamilton)

Purple: “When I die/ I don't want to rest in peace/ I want to dance in joy/ I want to dance in the graveyards/ And while I'm alive/ I don't want to be alone/ Mourning the ones who came before/ I want to dance with them some more/ Let's dance in the graveyards/ Gloria, like some other name/ We kept on calling ya” (“Dance in the Graveyard” by Delta Rae)

“Billowing out a River from My Lungs” (2019). Watercolor, colored pencil, and oil pastel on paper. Free draw.

I’m actually working on a newer version of this. It was just something to explore mediums and a bit of meditative practice.

“Emotions (Sadness, Creativity, Loneliness, Hope, Grief, Sonder)” (2019). Watercolor on paper. Prompted.

Pick six emotions and represent them.

Sadness is dark to me, heavy, and spiraling. It’s a whirlpool that drags you down.

Creativity is spontaneous, bright and orange like flowers. I tried to convey that with different strokes and a golden spark in the corner.

Loneliness is hard and harsh absence. That feeling of emptiness despite being surrounded by love and compassion.

Hope is green, a path in the forrest that is moving upward, forward.

Grief is red and raw at first and then the longing fades in, dark and deep.

Part 2 is coming soon

#my art #a portfolio of recovery #art #art history #art historian #hey look art

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