#threads: harper mcintyre.

[bruiseeasily]

starter for harper mcintyre / @lingeringscars

"hey, harper! hold up!" jordan calls out as he runs across campus to catch up to her. the smile on his lips greets her the second she stops on her tracks. he was worried she'd ignore him - it wouldn't be a first. maybe that's why he's so drawn to her. liv told him to stay away and yet, he never learns. "what are you up to?" he asks innocently before he realizes how he comes across. a chuckle comes up. "i was thinking we could get started on that econ project? if you're free now?"

[veilxstars]

EVENT 01; PUMPKIN PALOOZA

Welcome to Pumpkin Palooza, Cardinal Hill’s enchanting autumn festival! The town square bursts with carved pumpkins, warm cider, and festive games. Explore magical potion stands, hunt for hidden treasures, and enjoy local crafts and treats. Join the fun and discover the delightful surprises waiting for you at this year’s Pumpkin Palooza!

feel free to use the below as locations/activities in your threads. these are all the things that my characters are offering to the event itself.

Scout Proctor (located at the Maplewood Inn)

Pumpkin-Themed Menu: Scout has created a autumn themed menu for guests featuring pumpkin-inspired dishes and treats, such as pumpkin spice lattes, savory pumpkin soup, and pumpkin pastries, drawing in festival-goers looking for a warm meal.

Harvest Craft Workshops: She hosts craft workshops in the inn’s common area, where guests can make pumpkin-themed decorations, candle holders, and mini scarecrows.

Spooky Movie Nights: In the evenings, Scout sets up a cozy screening area with blankets and popcorn for family-friendly Halloween movies.

Grey Hawthorne (located in the town square)

Pony and Mule Rides: Grey has agreed to provide Meridoc, the pony, and Missus, the mule. He stays on the premises with his animals and strikes up conversations with parents and children alike.

Charity Raffle: Grey has organized a charity raffle featuring items he has collected, with proceeds going to local animal shelters or rehabilitation centers.

Hay Rides (ft. Jack & Queen): In the evening, Grey is one of the people who give hay rides as a closing activity to families.

Mags Harper (located in the town square)

Pumpkin Flower Arrangements: Mags creates whimsical bouquets using seasonal flowers and small pumpkins as vases. Visitors can choose their flowers and arrange their own pumpkin bouquets.

Flower Crown Station: Mags also makes flower crowns for children (or adults) who would like to have one. She focuses on autumnal colors and flowers.

Puck Thorne (...)

he has done absolutely nothing, and he is enjoying walking around and taking in the festival without contributing. you can see him taking pictures to send to his editor, as she doesn't believe these small town events actually happen.

Aristotle McIntyre (located in the town square, at the Shadow Curiosities stall)

Memory Tree: Aris has set up a "Memory Tree" station where festival-goers can write down and hang their favorite autumn memories on colorful paper leaves.

Memory Jars: Using small jars that he has collected, as well as small trinkets (such as buttons, bits of lace, pins, charms etc), he helps festival-goers create memory jars to fill with notes and decorations to remember this year's event.

Arjun Deshmukh (located in the town square & at Soundwaves)

Storytime Corner: Arjun is working at the storytime corner reading/telling stories to children. He is also using this as a good opportunity to introduce service dogs to children and teach them the importance of always asking before they pet a working dog.

At night, Arjun dedicates part of his program to go over the happenings from the Pumpkin Palooza as well as using his air-time to play appropriate music and tell fall themed ghost stories.

Marisol Hargrove (located in the town square)

Pumpkin Scavenger Hunt: children and adults are encouraged to run through the maze and search for decorated pumpkins. Inside, they may find a playful trick or a treat.

Miniature Garden Station: She has a small craft station where attendees create their own miniature fairy gardens using small plants, stones, and decorations.

Tea (potion) Tasting Booth: With Copper's help, she sells tea (potions) which include seasonal favorites like a “Pumpkin Spice Elixir” that warms the heart or a “Harvest Moon Tonic” for enhancing dreams.

Luciana Castillo (located in the town square)

Magic Shows: Luciana performs short magic shows throughout the event, showcasing her sleight of hand and illusions.

"Mabbitt’s Corner”: Setting up a dedicated area of her store at the festival, Luciana could showcase some of the enchanting props and supplies available at Mabbitt’s.

Mystery Box Challenge: She has set up a fun mystery box challenge where attendees have to guess what’s inside various boxes based only on tactile clues.

[storyownedaa]

@wanlidas​ 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁  //  𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗽𝗲𝗿 + 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗮𝘃𝗼𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗻.

𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒆 of her son’s bedroom door,  a gentle smile tugging at her features as she watches him.      soon he will enter cryo with the others.    when he wakes,     he’ll have a chance at something 𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙣𝙞𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙩;      will get to be a part of starting over,  of creating a world born from peace rather than warfare.        he’ll get to embark on an adventure with bellamy,   raven,   echo,   emori,   murphy —     the heroes whose stories he grew up on,  the heroes who she considers 𝙛𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙮.

pushing off from the door,     she gives a gentle knock,     finally announcing her presence.      she’s going to miss him every second of every day,     will undoubtedly spend too much time watching him through the thin layer of glass that keeps him safe,     but she knows it’s for the best.     wants this chance for her son,      and is glad she has some small part of giving it to him.

coming to perch on the edge of his bed,     harper offers jordan a gentle smile.    ‘       how are you feeling?      ’      she asks, voice soft and warm —     exactly how she wants him to remember her.      exactly the type of mom she’s always tried to be.       ‘       they’re going to love you,  you know.      ’

[effigy-blog]

harper   mcintyre   for   @adptations      /      sc.

“      you   have   friends   here  ,    okay?      ”       twisting   her   long   braid   round   and   round   her   finger  ,    harper’s   gaze   flits   from   echo   to   a   point   just   above   her   shoulder.       “      i   know   you   think   you’re   alone  ,    but  ...      this   isn’t   going   to   work   if   we   all   think   that   way.      ”

[emotionlcss]

t100 tag drop !

[mortaem]

⸸      tags    /    harper mcintyre.

[100hearteyes]

any more thoughts on 'clarke and lexa make a porno'?

🤔😏

Part 1 Part 2

“Last but not least, worry no more, citizens of Capitola: after a grueling week of searching, our very own superhero Jasper Jordan has finally found his cape. He was wearing it all along.”

“It’s so good to know that he will be able to go on keeping Capitola safe.”

“Yes, what would we do without Jasper Jordan here to protect us? And from now on, you’ll be in Lexa Woods’s hands. Also, such good hands those are. She’s got very long fingers.”

“Oh. Well, I never actually noticed, but I guess they are. Thanks, Clarke. And now, perk your ears for the new hit single from our very own global country star, Harper McIntyre. It’s called Call Me Harp-by. She’s a creative genius!”

-

Lexa’s first instinct when she hears the studio door open is to hide. She checks her options: Monty is holed up under his desk playing on his GameBoy Color, Octavia has barricaded herself in a corner with actual hand-carved sticks and is roaring at Bellamy in a strange language, and Murphy is probably peeing into a bin behind the pillar on the far side of the room.

She’s too slow to think of a solution in the end and she can’t do anything but flush when Clarke strolls in and heads over to her, smirk plastered on her face. Lexa only has time to save her miniature Baby Yoda from Clarke’s weapon of ass destruction before her coworker sits on the edge of her desk.

“Hey, Lexa.”

Lexa forces a polite smile, trying to focus on her outline for the day rather than the butt cheeks planted on her desk, the body attached to them, or the face looking down at her with a sly grin. “Hello, Clarke.”

“What do you think of Harper McIntyre’s new song?”

The topic confuses her, but she trudges on with a brave face. After all, she’s got opinions on Capitola’s Taylor Swift rip-off and if Anya is going to make it a point of leaving the room every time Lexa so much as mentions them, then she’s going to take this opportunity with both hands and pull out all the receipts. “Uninspired. Derivative. Oddly reminiscent of Call Me Maybe by Carly Rae Jepsen.”

“Yeah...” Clarke nods pensively, letting the subsequent silence drag on for a few more seconds. “I like your fingers.”

Lexa starts at the sudden topic change and struggles to keep her blush under control under the brazen intensity of Clarke’s stare. “Yes, I- I noticed. You mentioned. On the radio, for all of Capitola to hear. Thank you, I guess?”

Clarke hums, before clicking her tongue and hopping off of Lexa’s desk. She roundabouts it until she’s right next to Lexa, thigh brushing Lexa’s arm.

Lexa tries and fails to swallow down the knot in her throat as Clarke sits on her desk again, this time on her side, crossing her legs so her feet touch Lexa’s leg.

“So a little bird told me we’re starring in a porno together.”

Lexa almost yelps, scrambling out of her chair to fasten both hands over Clarke’s mouth. “The whole world doesn’t need to know, Clarke!”

Clarke rolls her eyes, but Lexa can feel her smile under her hands. Their eyes lock, a tacit understanding passing between them. Clarke's eyes are a vivid blue, like a cloudless sky or the color of Lexa's highlighters before Anya dunked them all in a bag of manure, and it's hard not to drown in the depths of them.

"Glad to see you two getting intimate already."

They spring apart as though they were burned. Lexa sits back down on her chair, while Clarke takes a seat at her desk, which to Lexa's chagrin is right next to her own. Anya chuckles as she sinks into her own chair, propping her feet on Lexa's desk, crossed at the ankles.

"Anyway," she slams a hand over a stack of papers, making Clarke and Lexa jump in their seats, "can you guess what this is?"

Clarke and Lexa look at each other with raised eyebrows, then at Anya. Lexa shrugs.

"This is your fucking Bible," Anya says, not waiting for them to guess. "Your Dianetics.Your Loose Canon. Your gospel." At her companions' still expectant stares, Anya heaves a dramatic sigh, throwing her arms up. "It's the goddamn screenplay."

Oh.

Oh.

It's like the snap of an elastic band. Lexa and Clarke shoot out of their chairs to snatch the script from Anya's desk. Lexa gets there first (going to the gym does pay off after all), dribbling around Clarke, and lets out a triumphant cry before sinking back into her chair, thumbing through the pages of the heavy tome.

She stops on a random page and feels Clarke press closer to read over her shoulder.

-

INT. BLONDIE'S KITCHEN - TWILIGHT

Enter Lulu. Plumber by day, detective by night. She stops by the island and twirls a lead pipe in her right hand before sheathing it like a cowboy's pistol.

LULU

It seems it's time to read your...

Lulu puts on her shades. ZOOM IN.

LULU (CONT'D)

...Anya rights.

-

Lexa balks, peeling her eyes from the page to gape at Anya.

"Anya rights? Anya rights? You can't just... Arbitrarily rename the Miranda rights. They have that name for a reason."

Anya rolls her eyes like Lexa just said something obnoxiously stupid. "I didn't just rename them, you dumbass. I fucking changed them. If you'd read the whole thing, you would know that the suspect has the obligation to remain silent. No more fucking cry babies in cuffs."

"This is..." Lexa opens and closes her mouth like a fish, trying to find a thread of logic in the midst of... Whatever fever dream she's living in right now. "I thought we were filming a porno, not a sexy cop movie. Plumber by day, detective by night? That's- it's not even remotely realistic."

"Lexa... Suspend your disbelief."

"I think it's really good stuff," Clarke chimes in, her breasts still firmly pressed to Lexa's shoulder blade.

"Thank you, Clarke!" Anya exclaims, throwing her hands up and letting them fall on her legs with a loud clap. "At least someone appreciates my genius."

Lexa rolls her eyes, but fine. Fine. She will read more; she will give Anya a chance. She opens the book on a new page, several scenes ahead.

-

INT. BLONDIE'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Blondie rubs her lover's love button like she's scratching at a turn-table, making Lulu scream louder than Saoirse Ronan in Ammonite when Kate Winslet was eating her out with her neck.

LULU

Oh, fuck! You're so good at this! Almost as good as my awesome best friend and mentor Anya, even though I've never had sex with her because that would be totally gross.

Blondie stops her ministrations to look up at Lulu and smirks.

BLONDIE

I know. After all, they don't call me DJ Diddles for nothin'.

-

Lexa stares incredulously from the two hundred-odd pages to Anya, wondering how grave a sin she must have committed in a past life to deserve this.

"What are you, a sex-deprived straight guy?"

Anya scoffs, yanking the script from Lexa's hands before she can do anything to stop it. "I can assure you there is no deprivation in that department."

"After reading that I am seriously starting to doubt that you've ever even seen a vagina."

"I thought it was good," Clarke pipes in once again. This time, Lexa turns to her with a raised eyebrow.

"Is she paying you to say that?"

Clarke tsks with a smirk. "I'm just smart enough to know better than to get on the lead producer's bad side."

Anya snaps her fingers and points at Clarke approvingly, and Lexa has never regretted a decision so deeply in her life.

"Anyway," Clarke resumes, standing up and grabbing her bag. "This has been fun, but I need to get going. Anya, stay classy. We'll work out the schedule this week. Lexa," she adds, her voice dropping a tone to turn into a seductive purr. She leans down, and it's all Lexa can do not to focus on how her breasts squish together and seem to become fuller and more inviting. She loses the plot when a pair of lips presses to her cheek in a kiss that is chaste, yet way too slow for propriety. "See you tomorrow."

Lexa's throat is dry as a desert as she watches Clarke leave, her hips swaying more than usual. She jumps in place when Anya clears her throat next to her. This time, she can't avoid her friend's shit-eating grin.

"No chemistry, you say?"

"Shut up, Anya," she grumbles, focusing back on her work. She has a full, five-minute newscast to prepare, she can't dawdle and joke around gossiping like some people. But then a thought pops up in her head and she turns to Anya, eyes narrowed. "Is this some elaborate plan to get us together? I refuse to be your little Love, Actually experiment."

Anya's stare is fifty shades of unimpressed. "Lexa. Don't take yourself so seriously. It's a bad look on you."

Lexa buries her face in her hands with a long-suffering sigh. Why is this her life? Why is this her best friend? Why is she hopelessly attracted to the worst, most unprofessional coworker on the planet?

"Why couldn't you find a normal hobby? Something that doesn't include me? Like baking. Baking would have been so much better."

"You know," Anya drawls almost nostalgically, "I actually considered that, but the criminally inclined baker niche was already taken up by Martha Stewart."

"She is surprisingly niche," Lexa says, intrigued.

"Indeed."

"But she's also able to appeal to a larger audience."

"Uh-huh."

"Fascinating."

"I know. It's like Punkya. You'd think a lesbian erotica magazine would only appeal to queer women and depraved straight men, but it's been selling surprisingly well amongst the straight female demographic."

Hm. Are all women secretly queer?

"Interesting," Lexa concedes, before veering the topic back to Anya's passion (and Lexa's torture) project. "So when does principal photography start?"

And there it is again, that nefarious gleam in Anya's eyes. It grows along with her Cheshire cat grin, curling and curling until it's pure, unbridled evil.

"Next week."

[nimphs]

starter call !    please specify muse!      

*    if you have a hard time choosing ,  these muses currently do not have any threads    /    very few threads and i would love to have interactions for them!    ( below the cut )

- bella swan ,  twilight - candace stone ,  you - christian desbois ,  moulin rouge! - connor ,  detroit :  become human - danielle clayton ,  bly manor - ellie williams ,  the last of us - fred weasley ,  harry potter - harper mcintyre ,  the hundred - jack torrance ,  the shining - jesse mccarty ,  the last of us - kaz brekker ,  six of crows - peter parker ,  mcu - poe dameron ,  star wars - robb stark ,  game of thrones - steven crain ,  hill house - theseus scamander ,  fantastic beasts - tony stark ,  mcu

+  any muses on my request list ! 

[ao3feed-bellarke]

Do You Believe In Magic?

by Miss_Princess_Blake

Clarke Griffin does not believe in magic or fate. Her life has shown her that life is rarely easy. After a messy divorce she resettles her entire life in the small town of Arkadia in hopes of finding a better life for herself and her daughter. Enter Bellamy Blake, her mysterious and charming neighbor. Unlike her, magic is at the very core of who he is. And despite herself she can't help being drawn to him.

Still, she is determined to stay on track with her plan. Establish a smaller practice to ensure she has time for her daughter, repair her heart after her ex-husband shattered her trust, and fix the broken threads of her life. But sometimes, whether you believe in it or not, fate has other plans for you.

A Bellarke Good Witch AU

Words: 5223, Chapters: 1/5, Language: English

Fandoms: The 100 (TV)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Characters: Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake, Madi (The 100), Luca (The 100), John Murphy (The 100), Echo (The 100), Jasper Jordan, Maya Vie, Nathan Miller, Marcus Kane, Harper McIntyre, Monty Green

Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin

Additional Tags: the good witch - Freeform, Single Parent Clarke Griffin, Single Parent Bellamy Blake, Found Family, Small Towns, Fluff, Slow Burn, Kinda, halloween fic, t100fics4blm, Bisexual Bellamy Blake, Magic, Pining, Doctor Clarke Griffin, Innkeeper Bellamy Blake, Bellamy is a good cook

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/34270732

[indiiffercnt]

it was HARD seeing him down there, and even worse when they’d CHAINED him up next to kane. harper hadn’t known how they were going to get him OUT of it, though then the explosion had happened, and everyones attention was back towards arkadia. they were all moving so fast then when her FEET we back at the bottom of the divide, and both crews were moving to see what had happened she almost hadn’t noted that the male wasn’t in chains anymore, but instead just marching back towards camp with her. “are you OKAY?” was the first thing she’d asked, really just needing the verbal confirmation. // @basiicphysics

[forbaes-arc]

✔ + my t100 / tvd / serena / your pick bc i'm trying to remember what u are familiar w/

a  quick  and  easy  plotting  guide          —          accepting.          (  @lingeringscars - harper  mcintyre  )

do i know your muse(s): yes | no | a little | tell me about your muse

setting: our verse | my verse | your verse | modern | alternate universe | other

pre-established relationships? yes | no | depends on the relationship

possible relationships: friends | classmate | co-worker | roommate | family, real or adopted | dating or blind date | married | friends with benefits | unrequited love | lending a hand | teacher - student | rivals | allies | partner-in-crime | enemies | protecter - guarded | business partners | spy - infiltrated | manipulator - manipulated | star-crossed | first meeting | other

i’m in the mood for: fluff | angst | horror | romance | humor | crime | hurt / comfort | action | supernatural | slice of life | crack | dark threads | light threads | any genre | multi-para | shorter para | one-line | any length | plotted threads | unplotted threads | other

feel free to: message me ooc | message me ic | tell me your ideas | write a starter | answer one of my opens | send a meme | reblog this with your preferences - let’s find common interests!

[storyownedaa]

tag drop 003. 

[ao3feed-the100]

Do You Believe In Magic?

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3B9Fxzh

by Miss_Princess_Blake

Clarke Griffin does not believe in magic or fate. Her life has shown her that life is rarely easy. After a messy divorce she resettles her entire life in the small town of Arkadia in hopes of finding a better life for herself and her daughter. Enter Bellamy Blake, her mysterious and charming neighbor. Unlike her, magic is at the very core of who he is. And despite herself she can't help being drawn to him.

Still, she is determined to stay on track with her plan. Establish a smaller practice to ensure she has time for her daughter, repair her heart after her ex-husband shattered her trust, and fix the broken threads of her life. But sometimes, whether you believe in it or not, fate has other plans for you.

A Bellarke Good Witch AU

Words: 5223, Chapters: 1/5, Language: English

Fandoms: The 100 (TV)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Characters: Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake, Madi (The 100), Luca (The 100), John Murphy (The 100), Echo (The 100), Jasper Jordan, Maya Vie, Nathan Miller, Marcus Kane, Harper McIntyre, Monty Green

Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin

Additional Tags: the good witch - Freeform, Single Parent Clarke Griffin, Single Parent Bellamy Blake, Found Family, Small Towns, Fluff, Slow Burn, Kinda, halloween fic, t100fics4blm, Bisexual Bellamy Blake, Magic, Pining, Doctor Clarke Griffin, Innkeeper Bellamy Blake, Bellamy is a good cook

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3B9Fxzh

[effigy-blog]

harper   mcintyre   for   @aigonakru      (    octavia   blake    )      /      sc.

she   hovers   in   the   entrance   to   the   tent  ,    visibly   unsure   of   herself  ,    and   seems   to   steel   herself  ,    squaring   her   shoulders  ,    before   taking   a   step   inside.      once  ,    octavia   had   been   their   friend  ,    and   that   girl   must   still   be   buried   somewhere   deep   down.       “      we’ve   been   learning   through   trial   and   error  ,      ”       she   says  ,    determinedly   casual  ,       “      trying   to   use   the   campfire   to   bake   bread.      this   is   our   successful   attempt.      i   thought   i’d   come   give   it   to   you.      it’s   good  ,    try   some.      ”

[emotionlcss]

t100 tag drop !

[bombshellsandbluebells]

First Do No Harm, Chapter 4

Summary: During the 5+ years aboard the Ark, Murphy stumbles into becoming the designated doctor.

(Or: The Space Squad struggles to survive on the Ring, and Murphy learns how to make friends.)

Relationships: John Murphy/Emori, Murphy & all of the Space Squad, background Marper and Bellarke

Chapter Summary: The algae farm team takes on a shitty job. Harper and Murphy share a breakdown.

Once again, tremendous thanks to @infernalandmortal for editing! She's the absolute best!

Previous Chapter

Read on ao3

Chapter 4: Hunger

During their second week aboard the Ring, Emori finds a small bag of seeds stashed away in one of the rooms, and, instead of taking them to the Supply Room with the rest of what she finds, she takes them straight to Monty.

Their possible food problem is sort of an open secret aboard the Ring. Neither Bellamy or Monty have officially announced it to anyone, but it seems to have passed through the group regardless. It lingers now, always, everywhere. Bellamy’s announcement that they were cutting food intake down to two rations a day had been met by everyone with trepidation, but not resistance.

Emori fidgets as Monty inspects the seeds. The skin of her forehead is bunched and wrinkled with worry, pinched tight between her dark eyebrows. “Will these grow more food?” she asks, and Murphy can hear the note of fear threaded through her otherwise calm voice, though he doubts Monty or Harper can pick up on it. Emori’s a master of hiding her emotions.

“It’s hard to tell,” Monty says. “’I’m not sure what plants they are, exactly, but it doesn’t make sense for anyone on the Ark to keep anything that isn’t edible.” He smiles up at Emori. “It will be good to have something to eat besides just the algae. Thank you.”

Emori gives him a half-smile, one corner of her mouth twitching up.

Great job. I love you, Murphy wants to say, because saying it out loud has become addicting in the last few days – maybe because of the way Emori smiles at him afterwards, and maybe because he never thought he was actually capable of it – but he feels self-conscious with Monty and Harper standing there. It’s not like it’s a secret that he loves Emori, but it still feels too intimate a moment to share with anyone else.

Instead, he gently grabs her hand as she walks by and squeezes it. “Great job,” he says, and she beams at him, leans forward to peck him on the lips, then leaves the room.

He watches her go, and when he turns back to the room, he sees Harper staring at him, her eyes narrowed, her gaze hot and piercing. It feels like he’s being dissected. He glances away awkwardly, letting his eyes fall to the floor. Murphy’s not sure what Harper sees, but, after a moment, she turns away from him without a word.

Monty hasn’t paid any attention to the two of them since Emori left. He’s deep in thought, his eyes focused on an empty corner of the room, glancing between it and the seeds in his hands. After a few minutes of silent contemplation, he looks up at the other two watching him expectantly.

“Can we plant those?” Murphy asks. “Because I’d personally love a backup in case the algae doesn’t grow.”

“Maybe,” Monty says slowly, the gears almost visibly turning in his head. He looks back at the empty corner. “But there’s a problem.” He falls quiet again.

Murphy sighs. “No need to drag out the suspense. Just tell us.”

Monty breathes in deeply, steadying himself. “Okay, there’s no garden set up in the Ring. We lucked out because the algae farm was already here, but we don’t currently have any way to grow these. We don’t have soil to plant them in.”

“So they’re useless,” Murphy concludes, and his body sags with resignation. Of course. Finding a new food option while their current plan is failing is just too good to be true, and the Ring seems determined to do everything it can to kill them. They’re just as fucked as they were the day before.  

“Not necessarily,” Monty agues. His hands are clutching at the seeds, holding them tightly – preciously.  Murphy perks up at that, and out of the corner of his eye, he can see Harper beside him grasp onto this kernel of hope, leaning towards Monty eagerly.

“Can we create a garden somehow?” she asks.

“We can,” Monty says, “but it won’t be easy.” He hesitates, biting at his lip, and Murphy braces himself for the hit. “We have to make manure with our waste.”

There’s silence. It seems anticlimactic for just a moment, and then it registers. “Okay, I’m not a great farmer,” Murphy says, “so I might not have understood you correctly. You’re suggesting we use our shit to grow our food?”

Monty shrugs. “We did it all the time in Farm Station.”

“Well, that’s one thing I could have lived forever without knowing,” Murphy jokes, but there isn’t much humor in it.

“The food grown in it is fine,” Monty assures him. “It’s just the farming that’s…” He pauses, and finally lets his features twist with disgust. Still, despite his grimace, he sounds only resigned as he adds, “Not fun.”

“Now I see why you put me on farm duty,” Murphy groans, running a hand through his hair. It’s starting to get too long, the ends falling into his eyes often enough to be annoying. “This is payback.”

“If that’s true, why am I here?” Harper asks, and her voice is light. It seems like a joke – and not one at Murphy’s expense. He glances at her, and he notices that her lips are quirked up into what might be considered a grin, even if she does seem as repulsed by Monty’s suggestion as Murphy is.

“I don’t know, McIntyre,” Murphy replies, grinning back. “It’d be rude to speculate about your relationship problems.”

He means it as a joke, but maybe it comes out more biting than he means it to, or just a little too mean to be funny, because Harper’s grin disappears, and her features sharpen once more.

“Dick,” she mutters, and it sounds like rejection – like a wall going up again. Well, he tried.

“So how do we do this,” Murphy asks, because hell, if it’s between dealing with shit or starving to death, Murphy knows which option he’s picking, even if his stomach does roll just at the thought of it.

“I don’t even know if it will work!” Monty exclaims, voice sharp and reedy, and it’s like he becomes a different creature in that moment, one frantic with worry and stress as opposed to his usual calm. His hands clench tight around the seeds. They’ve healed spectacularly well over the two weeks they’ve been here, and though they’re covered in rough, discolored patches of scar tissue, Monty seems to have no problem using them.

“There’s too many unknown variables,” he continues. “I don’t know if we’ll be able to compost without the composter from Farm Station, I don’t know what kind of seeds they are or how long they’ll take to grow – it could be just a few weeks or it could be over a month! And who knows if we’ll even be able to grow it here after we compost the manure - and I don’t even know if the algae is going to grow at all now that Raven’s fixed the heaters. These seeds could be an additional source of food once our rations run out or they could be our only option. I don’t know!”

Monty’s panic is terrifying.  Up until now, he’s stayed outwardly calm in the face of every challenge, and Murphy realizes that he’s been using him subconsciously as a gauge for how fucked their food situation really is. If Monty’s panicking, things are worse than he thought.

Murphy’s not prepared to starve to death. He wasn’t prepared five months ago, and he certainly isn’t now.

“Monty,” Harper’s voice is like steel. It’s a firm and sturdy voice, like something that could weather a storm and stay standing, tall and strong. Murphy remembers the small, fragile girl with delicate features he met in the Skybox. Had she always been hiding a steely strength, or had the Earth ripped and pulled it out of her?

“What?” Monty snaps back, and it’s meant to sting.

Harper takes the hit, but doesn’t flinch. “Work with what you do know,” she says, voice steady.

Monty blinks at her, his panic fading slowly away. It's still visible in his eyes, but he no longer seems to be drowning within it. He opens up a drawer and places the bag of seeds carefully inside, then clutches the corners of the drawer and sags against it, letting it take his weight. “Okay,” he says, and already his voice sounds calmer. “Murphy, I need that tablet.”

Murphy hurries to go retrieve it from Medical. By the time he returns to the farm, Monty is once again a picture of calm determination. Harper stands beside him, one hand rubbing circles into his back. She pulls back as Murphy enters, giving Monty room to stand as he takes the tablet from him.

“Okay,” he says again, pulling open a program to write in, and Murphy makes a note to ask him how later so he can create an official inventory for Medical that isn’t just stored in his head. “If we all keep taking two rations a day,” he says aloud as he jots down numbers, “we’ll be out of food in 17 days. Even if the algae starts growing now, that’s cutting it pretty close, and it isn’t anywhere near enough time to compost the waste and let the seeds grow. Composting with the composter took three weeks – without it, I’m not sure, but we can try to build something similar and hopefully do it in about the same amount of time, adding, let’s say, five days to build it. The seeds will take three or four weeks to grow. Longer, if we’re unlucky.”

He does the math silently for a moment, then looks up. “We need to make it at least six more weeks on the rations we have. If nothing’s growing at that point, it doesn’t matter – we’re dead anyway. Bellamy said we have,” he pauses, eyes flicking up towards the ceiling momentarily as he thinks, “238 left as of today. If we go down to one ration a day for the seven of us, we’ll make it to five. But if we go down to one ration each every other day – or one half ration a day – we’ll make it almost 10. And since we won’t have to make it to 10, every few days we can have an additional ration to keep our strength up.”

He circles the final number, 68, with his finger, and the heavy weight of what he’s said settles over the room and its occupants.

“One ration every other day,” Murphy repeats slowly. “For six weeks.”

Monty nods, looking grim but determined. “And we pray the algae is ready in two.”

When Monty announces the plan to the group that night, the other Ark-born kids take the news with about the same level of concerned resignation as the algae farm team had. They’ve never had to ration so extremely before, but they’re no strangers to going hungry.

Murphy remembers a period of about a month when he was ten. A fungus had infected an entire crop of food, and the food supply dropped dangerously low. The entire Ark population had been forced down to one ration a day until the numbers were deemed safe – and even then, it had been a slow process working back up to the standard daily ration amounts.

He knows the other delinquents in the room remember that month as well as him, and though that wasn’t nearly as bad as what they’re planning now, the Ark has prepared them all for things like this.

Emori takes the news well. Her mouth tightens, and he sees her hand clench tight at her side, her nails biting white crescent moons into her skin, but she only nods, resolute and prepared and far too used to going hungry.

Echo, on the other hand, pales as Monty explains, her face drenched white with horror like it so often is with paint. Her eyes, wide and scared, flit around the group. Seeing their resignation, she tries to hide her own terror, but it slips through the cracks in her stony mask – in the sweat beading on her forehead, in the trembling of her body. Murphy can’t find it in himself to care much.

She’ll get used to it. Just like they’ve all had to.

Monty recruits Raven to help build the composter, since she’s taken care of most of the urgent, life-threatening problems aboard the Ring already. When she meets Monty and Murphy in the supply room, she still looks frazzled and slightly manic, worn thin with exhaustion. Her hair is no longer in its signature ponytail, but pulled back into a messy braid. It’s starting to shimmer in the lights, greasy and unwashed, just like the rest of them. It’s unusual to see her so unkempt and grimy, because even when she was slowly dying in the lab she’d looked clean and put together. It takes Murphy right back to the dropship – the two of them sitting beside each other, filthy, bloody, dying.

He shakes that thought away.

Raven and Monty pull pieces from the supply room – sheets of loose metal, spare nuts and bolts, even some tools – and Raven congratulates Emori on what she’s managed to scavenge from the Ring. Emori preens from where she stands in the corner, watching Raven and Monty move about with interest.

The supply room is impressive. Murphy’s been in it briefly once or twice, but he hasn’t paid much attention to the remarkable amount of work Emori, Echo, and Bellamy have put into it. There are racks and shelves pulled from various other rooms around the Ring and arranged in neat rows. Bellamy, with Echo’s help, has arranged the items Emori brings him into an organized system, complete with labels handwritten on duct-tape: metal, plastic, blankets, so on and so on.

Monty and Raven fill up Emori’s makeshift cart, and Murphy helps them drag the pile into the algae farm, over to an unused corner of the room, where they start unloading, laying the pieces out along the floor so they can see them all. Murphy and Harper stand off to the side, curious and anxious, but clueless as to what their resident mechanic and engineer are actually planning.

For the next few days, Harper and Murphy tend to the algae farm, watching carefully for any signs of growth and swallowing disappointment each time, while Raven and Monty start building something. Murphy isn’t quite sure what it is. It appears to be a cylindrical metal container on some kind of stand. Whenever he tries to ask for more of an explanation, Raven shoos him off testily. He remembers what Raven’s like in her anger – and how hard she can hit – and wisely stays out of their way.

Instead, he goes to Medical, using the program Monty used to create a written inventory of their supplies. Afterwards, he thinks of the supply room, of Bellamy’s careful organization, and takes Bellamy the list.

Bellamy is surprised when Murphy hands him the tablet and explains what he’s done. As he reads, his eyebrows lift up high on his forehead. Echo watches them from where she’s stacking odds and ends on a shelf.

“This is good work,” Bellamy tells him. Murphy lifts his chin with pride, feels himself standing just a bit taller. Damn right it is, he thinks.

“We’ve already had two injuries,” he says instead. “Figured it’d be good to actually keep track.”

“It is,” Bellamy agrees with a nod. He glances back down at the list of items, mouth twisting like he’s eaten something sour. “It’s not much. We’ll have to be careful.”

Murphy leaves the tablet with Bellamy so he can add his items to it – one massive inventory of what they have available to them for the next five years – and turns to leave.

“Hey, Murphy,” Bellamy calls as he nears the door, and he turns his head to look back over his shoulder at him, raising an eyebrow. “Good job.”

Thank you, he thinks, but doesn’t say. I’m more useful than you thought, huh? comes next, but he swallows that one back down too.

Just like last time, Murphy hates the stupid part of him that perks up at Bellamy’s praise and flutters excitedly in his chest. The younger him – from what feels like lifetimes ago, but is just months – would have given anything for Bellamy’s praise. Now that he has it, Murphy finds he doesn’t want it.

The person he is now, after everything, doesn’t have to rely on Bellamy to make him something worthwhile or impressive like he’d once thought the older man could – he can do that for himself. He has done that for himself.

After everything Earth’s thrown at him, Murphy finds he’s not as impressed with Bellamy Blake as he once was.

Besides, he can’t let go of the hanging. It feels both like ages ago and just yesterday. And two weeks ago is a fresher wound – in the bunker with Bellamy’s arms tight around his neck, unearthing every single screaming fear and nightmare of suffocation from where he’d stuffed them away in his head. And Bellamy – unconcerned. Unrepentant.

Murphy’s not sure he even wants his friendship, anymore, if it were offered.

“Just trying to help keep us all alive,” he says dryly.

The walls are looming as he leaves. The air seems thinner.  Murphy focuses on breathing.

Monty and Raven, when determined, work fast. They finish the composter on day three, well before Monty’s estimate. They’ve moved it out of the algae farm and into an unused room, on the more secluded side of the Ring, far away from everything else.

It’s the second day they’ve had to go without food completely. Murphy feels empty and weak. His stomach growls frequently with angry want. In his head, he compares it to a black hole, because he remembers learning about them years and years ago, and it seems that starving is making him poetic.

“Ta-da,” Raven says when Harper and Murphy arrive. Her voice is listless, even though her eyes are bright with triumph. Her hair is starting to fall out of its braid again, the free strands clumping together with sweat and grime.

“It’ll work?” Harper asks.

“Hopefully,” Monty says, which isn’t tremendously reassuring, but probably as good as they’re going to get. “But now comes the fun part,” he adds, voice thick with sarcasm.

“And that’s my cue to leave,” Raven jokes, but again her voice is flat, the humor tempered with exhaustion and hunger. “Have fun, guys.”

What follows is one of the worst things Murphy’s ever had to do – topped only by surviving physical torture and very nearly starving to death once already. He thinks it’s only the cockroach in him that helps him get through it.

The toilet on the Ring stores their waste in vacuum-sealed bags. After two weeks, and between the seven of them, there’s a decent number of bags. The three of them gather them up and take them to the room with the composter.

They have little to protect themselves from the smell, but they’ve tried to do the best they can with strips of blankets tied securely over their noses as makeshift masks.

It’s not enough. When they cut open the bags and begin dumping them into the composter, the smell is nearly overwhelming. Murphy gags, bile rising in his throat, and he watches Harper hold her breath, cheeks puffed out almost comically despite the situation.

It’s awful, unpleasant work. Murphy’s stomach rises and crashes in constant waves of nausea, and he nearly throws up several times. He’s not sure what would come up if he did, since his aching stomach reminds him it’s already digested everything he fed it yesterday. Bile, maybe?

The whole process seems to take hours, despite how quickly they work. When Monty finally slams the composter hatch closed, and motions towards the door, Murphy nearly cries with relief. The machine begins spinning with an awful, clunky hum as the three of them rush out of the room, nearly tripping over themselves in their haste. Murphy makes it out first, and, as soon as Harper and Monty follow him out into the hallway, he slams the door closed to keep the smell from escaping to the rest of the Ring. It’s obvious now why they’ve used a room so far from everything else.

The stale, recycled – but thankfully, not malodorous – air of the Ring hallway is a relief, and the three of them take in large, gulping breaths. Murphy yanks at the strip of cloth around his face, and, when that only pulls the knot tighter, wrestles it up over his head, tossing it to the ground. He swears the smell sunk into the fabric at some point.

“That,” he says, the word a sharp, harsh sound, “was fucking awful,” and there is a moment of unvoiced agreement as they all ruminate on that statement, on the past couple hours of work, and, frankly, on the past two weeks aboard the Ring – every minute of which has been a continuing nightmare of uncertain survival.

The composter churns on behind them, the monstrous humming muffled from the door.

“I can’t get the smell out of my nose,” Harper says suddenly, and her voice is strained. It takes Murphy a moment to realize it’s on the verge of hysterical laughter. “I think it’s burned in there.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then Murphy starts laughing, because the whole situation is ridiculous, and, after everything, they might still starve to death, and honestly, what the hell else can he do?

The other two stare at him in surprise. Then Harper dissolves into hysterical giggles. She moves to bury her face in her hands, then immediately thinks better of it and throws them out in front of her, as far from her nose as she can manage.

“That was awful,” she says. “Just – god – just, awful. Float me. “

“Fuck this stupid space station,” Murphy gasps out between laughs. It feels good to say. He says it again. “Fuck this stupid, fucking space station.”

They make a weird duet together, with their slightly manic laughter – Harper’s high-pitched, airy giggles and Murphy’s booming laughs. Monty watches them silently, and Murphy wonders if he thinks they’ve lost their minds. Hell, if they have lost their minds.

They deserve a breakdown or two, he thinks. After everything.

“I don’t know how I’m going to eat anything that grows in that,” Harper says as her giggles taper off. She continues to hold her hands out in the air in front of her. “I’m just going to keep thinking of this.”

“I’d eat anything right now,” Murphy says, honestly. His stomach feels achy and hollow, and its only day four.

“Even shit food?” Monty asks dryly. It comes out muffled from the blanket still covering his face.

Murphy snorts a laugh at that, but it’s not the half-deranged laughter of just a minute ago. “Yeah, even shit food,” he agrees.

A weird feeling settles in the hallway. It’s not quite victorious, since nothing about what they’ve just done feels at all victorious, but it is something. It’s fighting back, at the very least, against the thing that keeps trying to kill them. This gives them another chance. It might even give them five more years.

Murphy had never really thought of the delinquents as a team, and certainly not one he was a part of. As he regards the three of them in the hallway, all starving and hungry and disgusting in equal parts, he can’t help but think of them as one.

Even if it doesn’t work, they’ve fought back. And they’ve done it together. He thinks maybe it's easier to survive as part of a team.