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proud-to-be-a-stoner · 2 years

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My favorite KrimsonRogue moments from his reviews of Onision’s books.

I’m gonna be perfectly honest. New Moon was the worst book I had ever read until about a week ago. Now it’s just the worst professionally edited book I have ever read.

But I’m not here to just shit on Onision entirely, as much fun as that would be.

The best plot synopsis I can give you for this is ‘It’s about a loser in high school who was written by a guy who was probably a loser in high school and never got over being a loser in high school; so he rewrote his high school days in this deranged fantasy in order to make himself seem both downtrodden and cool, which makes everyone involved come off as a big loser.’ And I would know because I was also a loser in high school. The difference was I got over it!

James, at least, is a person. He’s just not a likable one.

Hello, Jaden Smith’s Twitter account!

Got some next-level cringe going on here.

I’m really awesome! Also pity me!

James describes himself in such a way that he could only be the greatest lover of all time.

That is…that’s not even a joke. That’s not even a thought.

I enjoy making fun of stupid books. I’m a masochist. The people on the internet like it when I hurt myself with bad reading.

Second verse, worse than the first.

I jumped the gun. I called the last one nihilistic cringe. I was too presumptuous. I acted too quickly. Because this is nihilistic cringe!

‘Humans are horribly sensitive creatures.’ As the protagonist of this book will demonstrate.

Of course, it doesn’t help that every single thing that Arthur types I can hear How Could This Happen to Me playing in the background.

I wish you would step back from that [bass boosted] EDGE, MY FRIEND-

'I said 'John, are you ready to hurt?’' That is the least intimidating start to a fight I have ever heard. 'John no doubt felt somewhat uncomfortable seeing these words come from the lips of someone who looked like me.' I would be too! You look weird!

Pot meet kettle!

So basically, he’s Dwight from The Office but with none of the charm.

I can believe that humans at least say some of these words??

I called it a footnote in the first book. No, this is a footnote!

Apparently Arthur really had to make sure that he killed the guy. ‘I continued bashing his head into the vent till I could be absolutely sure he was completely and irreversibly dead.’ As opposed to reversibly dead. Because, you know, God damn those zombies!

HOW DO YOU DO IT, GREG!? HOW DID YOU GET THIS MUCH WORSE WITH YOUR NEW BOOK!?

I think he did it either because he turned his autocorrect off or because his ego is so fragile he couldn’t stand to be corrected by a machine.

And, comically enough, there are more typos than pages in this thing. My God, man.

I do hope that everyone has enjoyed my undertaking of the Onision literature challenge. I’ve managed to complete all three books and I have not gone completely insane. Maybe a touch mad, but I think that’s what allowed me to pull through. Take the challenge yourself and see if you can actually survive all three books! Just make sure you hide all the sharp implements before you do, because you will want to commit harakiri.

You know, it’s really sad when your writing style can be summed up as ‘an overuse of comma splices’.

Ok, that’s enough jerking myself off.

Why did Daniel smirk? Why is his sister such a bitch?

Three, two, one, you’re wrong, it was aliens.

Eleven-year-old boys are kinda dumb. It’s ok, I’m allowed to say that, I was one.

So he’s by himself in bed when all of a sudden he hears a ‘non-audible noise’, which was no doubt accompanied by invisible scenery.

To prove that he is always the best at everything and always will be, Daniel says this. 'In dreams, I can hear things most can't hear. I can see things most can't see.' Hear that, everyone? Daniel's better at dreaming than you are!

Oh yeah, you think you’re so impressive? I can grow fingernails better than you can. Quick, watch me huff this paint better than you.

I’m smarter than you! Now watch me throw syntax out the window!

I wanna watch you get laughed out of the building.

People don’t just die suddenly, they rapidly cease existing. I want that to become a thing.

He no longer has skin!

God is rapidly ceasing to exist.

So now Daniel has become Seymour from Final Fantasy X.

There we go. Now it’s good and wrong.

#ThanosDidNothingWrong

Philip Pullman you are not, buddy.

Shit gets really vague here.

‘Hey, how come God doesn’t make any sense in your book?’ ‘Shut up.’

There are a number of ways you can kill a child, God, it’s not that difficult!

What kind of Al Gore bullshit math is this?

Oh but it gets dumber!

This is not inconsistent writing, this is a blatant fuck up!

#words with russell

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lia-jones · 4 years

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Growing Stronger - Chapter Thirteen - The Fling and the Almighty

I sat silently by his side, holding his hand, the only audible thing in the room was the buzz of one of the lamps and the beep of the heart monitor. It had been 24 hours since I had arrived at the hospital, and I never left since. Victor still slept, large amounts of morphine coursing through his veins.

The doctor had come and talked about Victor’s condition, almost like an accountant declares loss of income to the IRS: Three cracked ribs on his left side, a distal humerus fracture in his left arm, a penetrating trauma wound in his left thigh that caused major bleeding and required surgery, and several bruises also on his left side, the side of impact, that covered his body with angry red and pink hues. His pale face was also bruised and swollen on his left side, so much that he couldn’t open his eye. And all things considered, as doctors and the officers at the scene put it, he was lucky to be alive and not destined to a wheelchair. Most victims of T-bone crashes don’t live to tell the story, and if they do, their existence is bound to be pure misery. Victor had the promise of recovery, but also the promise of intense pain, hence the need to keep him heavily dosed with opiates.

The nurses would let him “come out for air”, as they put it, every 8 hours. They would delay the next dose of morphine, and let him open his eyes for a minute or two. He would wake up disoriented, a desperate look on his face, and I would do the only thing I could do: hold his hand and talk to him. Victor didn’t seem to be able to focus on me, his mind still foggy from the drugs, but he would hold my hand tight, craving the comfort of my touch. That’s when I decided that, even if I was completely useless in his recovery, I could take that role. I could be his comfort, his support, his lifeline. So I would hold his hand at all times, to let him know that he wasn’t alone, that someone was there for him. He would never be scared.

I couldn’t help but wonder how big dramas can suddenly look so small under a new perspective. A couple of days ago, my heart was aching over the possibility of a reconciliation, or the lack of it. My mind was entertained with thoughts of sorrow, longing, pride, self-preservation. My heart was jumping with joy and, at the same time, fear with Victor’s confident words in that elevator. I was eager to feel the joy of reconnection and scared that it would fail miserably again. However, seeing Victor in that hospital bed, his bare chest covered with electrodes, an array of tubes sticking out of his arms, made all those hopes and fears pointless. I had only one thing in my mind: I wanted him alive and well, back to his old self. With me, without me, it didn’t matter. I just wanted to see him again, dressed in a charcoal suit, walking tall, proud, and most importantly, safe. I didn’t care if I could only watch him from afar, or on the cover of a magazine, as long as I could see it. My phone rang, distracting me from my introspection. It was Goldman.

“How is he?” Goldman sounded tired. I shouldn’t have called him during his honeymoon, but LFG was minus its CEO and faithful assistant, and I didn’t know quite well how to proceed.

“The same.” I studied Victor’s relaxed expression, his long dark lashes, and dark circles standing out in his pale complexion. “Still sleeping.”

“Our flight is in two hours. We’ll be in Loveland by tomorrow morning. You shouldn’t be alone in there.”

“I told you, you don’t need to come. You gave me all the details, I have it covered. At least until he wakes up.” It pained me that Diane and Goldman’s honeymoon was interrupted like that.

“Andrea, we can’t possibly enjoy ourselves knowing our friends are going through this. Besides, I bet you haven’t left his room since you got there. Have you slept at all? Have you eaten?”

Negative for both accounts. But I wasn’t going to tell him that.

“Don’t worry, I’m taking care of myself. I’m fine.”

I felt the grip in my hand tighten, and Victor stirred a little.

“I think he’s waking up. I need to go.”

I forgot the phone on my lap, Victor being my only point of focus. His breath changed, quickening just a bit, as he opened his eyes slightly and tried to take in his surroundings.

“Victor.” I called, squeezing his hand. “I’m here. It’s okay.”

His eyes slowly turned to me, and it took him a while to focus his gaze on my face.

“Andy…” His voice sounded weak and vulnerable. I felt my eyes water. Stop it, Andrea. Be strong for him.

“Are you in pain?” I studied his expression. Victor shook his head softly.

“Am I…” He tried to talk again. “I can’t feel my body.”

“It’s the morphine.” I hurried to answer, as I softly brushed his bangs. He closed his eyes and leaned against my hand, welcoming the touch. “It takes away the pain, but it also makes you feel numb. Are you thirsty? Do you want some water?”

After his brief nod, I filled a plastic cup with water, and with the help of a straw, I offered him to drink. He took it eagerly, almost emptying the cup. The nurse arrived shortly after with the next dose of morphine. Silently, she injected it in Victor’s IV. His eyes glazed over almost instantly.

“Try to sleep, okay? Get some rest.”

“Stay.” He sounded like a little boy, his voice soft and pleading, making my heart pang. I have never seen Victor so vulnerable before.

“I’m not going anywhere.” I assured him, holding his hand tighter. I watched as the drug took hold of him, his eyelids fluttering closed, his breath becoming deep and steady again.

Victor woke up again shortly that night, and I held his hand, offering as much comfort as I could. I must have dozed off after, because I woke up with my head leaning on the comforter on his bed, alerted by a loud commotion outside.

I heard a distinctive male voice almost yelling outside the room. It was Victor’s father. I wondered for a moment who called him, since Goldman told me he had specific orders from Victor not to call his family in case of an accident, except if it resulted in his death. The door of the room opened suddenly, and Gregory entered the room, followed by a lady in her 50s. I got up from my seat, ready to defend myself.

“What are you doing here?” He asked me, clearly offended by my presence.

“Victor!” The lady approached him, holding his hand. “What happened to you?” Victor slept away, unaware of what was happening around him.

“I asked you a question!” Gregory’s eyes were still on me, burning a hole through my skull.

“The hospital called me.” I answered calmly, trying to lower the tone of the conversation. “I’m Victor’s emergency contact.”

“You are Andrea, of course!” The lady turned to me. “I saw your picture in those tabloids. My name is Therese, I’m Victor’s younger aunt. You can call me Terry.”

“The hospital called you? A stranger? And I, his father, have to know my son is injured through the newspaper?” Gregory raised his voice a little higher, making Victor stir slightly.

“Greg, stop! You’ll wake him up!” Terry pleaded.

“Shut up, Theresa! I gave him everything he ever needed.” Greg bitterly stated. “The best schools, a good lifestyle, the best of everything. And how does this ungrateful child repay me? By shutting me out! By relying on strangers instead of his father!” He turned me to, hatred in his eyes. “I want you out of here.”

I didn’t move.

“My son should be with his family, not one of his flings. Either you leave, or I’ll make you leave.”

Seeing that, once again, I hadn’t budged, he took me by the arm and led me outside of the room. I turned to him to speak.

“You probably won’t see it that way, but I will be your best friend right now.” I said, done with being silent. This had gone too far. Victor deserved better. I would probably be forcibly dragged out of the hospital by security, but he was going to listen to me.

“You want to know why he didn’t call you? Do you want to know why he never calls you? Because you are a shitty father.” Gregory motioned to retort, but I wouldn’t let him. “I’m not done yet! Your only son is on that bed, mangled, bruised, knocked out with drugs because the pain is so unbearable that it would be torture to allow him to fully awaken and you are worried about the fact that the hospital called me instead of you?! Victor almost died! You almost lost your son to a stupid car accident! Why aren’t you holding his hand? Why aren’t you doing what a father is supposed to do, talking to the doctors, worrying, making sure he is comfortable, safe, and loved? Why are you here instead? Blinded by your ego because you didn’t get a phone call?!?”

Victor’s father was pale but unresponsive. Maybe if I read him the take-out menu I would get a better reaction. The man could be incredibly stoic. But I already knew that move. I learned it from Victor, who had clearly learned it from him. His lack of reaction was to show how strong he was, how impervious he was to my words. Fat chance, grandpa. I wasn’t finished.

“You know, I have had some insanely painful things happen to me. They were all over the tabloids, so I trust you read all about it. And God knows how much I blamed myself for letting that poor excuse of a man enter my life, but do you think my parents ever said the slightest thing to blame me? Do you think they told me they were disappointed, that I was a disgrace to the family, which I thought I was, actually? No, never, not once. They opened their arms and they loved me, they helped me to heal from the consequences of my mistake, they supported me. Because they are good parents, and that’s what good parents do. Victor started dating me, our lives got exposed in the media without us doing anything to deserve it, and you have the audacity to storm in his company, act like you own the place, humiliate him, and throw the mom card at him? How dare you? That crushed him! He was destroyed! Is that what a father does to his son? Is that how you teach him, how you support him, by leaving his heart in the same state his body is in now? So crushed it hurts to feel?”

By the time I was done, I was panting, tears in my eyes. I couldn’t possibly describe the hate I felt towards that man. But he was Victor’s father, and right now he had all the power, so all I could do was to at least try to ensure that Victor wouldn’t get more hurt than he already was. Try, even if forcefully, to make Gregory see things differently. Try to make him see what he was doing to his son.

The stoic stance was gone. There was rage in Gregory’s face, tears in his eyes. I didn’t know if he felt sorry for what he had been doing to his son, or if it was just anger showing. He spoke to me through gritted teeth, his voice raspy with emotion.

“Show your face here again and I will make sure your life is nothing but misery.”

I knew the threat was real. I was well aware of the extent of the power Gregory Lee held in his hands. But I was unafraid. Fear magically disappears when you are fighting for what is right.

“Do well by your son.” I warned him. “Give him the father he deserves. Because if you don’t, your life will be even more miserable than mine. I can die a disgraced woman, but I will have people that love me by my side. Maybe you won’t be able to say the same.”

“Stop, both of you.” Victor’s aunt called from the door of the room. “As much as it may pain you, Andrea is here because Victor wanted her to. It’s his choice and we must respect it.” She then turned to me. “Andrea, go inside. Go be with Victor.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I promised I wouldn’t leave Victor alone. I walked in and resumed my vigil from my seat, holding Victor’s hand, my heart pounding hard in my chest. I had teased the lion. Now all I had to do was wait for the attack. A few moments after, Terry entered the room, alone, sitting next to me.

“I do not care for the way you talked to my brother just now.” I suddenly felt shame for being so harsh and was about to apologize, when she spoke again. “That being said, thank you for standing up for Victor. No one ever has. God knows I tried.”

“I’m not Victor’s girlfriend anymore.” I confessed. Terry seemed so nice, and it felt wrong to lie to her. “We broke up a couple of months ago. He just forgot to take my name off his emergency contacts, and when they called me… I couldn’t leave him alone.”

“It’s Victor. He’s not the kind to forget about things. If he wanted you out of his life, you wouldn’t be here.” Terry gave me a wide smile. “Now tell me, how hurt is he?”

I quickly filled her in on Victor’s condition, and what had happened since I arrived. She looked at me with wide eyes.

“You’ve been here the whole time? You never went home?”

I nodded. She shook her head in disapproval.

“Well, we simply can’t have that. Andrea, you need to go home, take a shower, have a proper meal, and sleep.”

“Please don’t tell me to leave.” I pleaded with her. My heart tightened at the thought of not being able to see him.

“I wouldn’t dare.” Terry held my hand, smiling. “I’m just telling you to take a break. Can you imagine how upset he will be when he wakes up and sees you spent like that? He will have both our heads!” Her exaggeration made us both laugh. “You go, take care of yourself, and come back refreshed. When you come, I’ll go home and do the same. We’ll take turns, so he will never be alone.”

I hesitated. He asked me to stay. How could I leave?

“Andrea, he will need you. He will need you strong and healthy, to support him. If he sees you are weakened, he will worry.”

I wondered how she could just assume those things. Obviously, she knew him better than I did.

“Thank you. Here’s my number.” I said, taking one of my business cards from my purse, handing it to her.

“I will text you so you’ll get my number too. And I promise I’ll call if I have news. Now go.”

I held Victor’s hand one last time.

“I’ll come back. I promise.”

#Growing Pains - Series #growingpains #victor x oc #mlqc li zeyan #mlqc victor #mlqc fanfic #love and producer #mister love queens choice

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sherlockxreader · 6 years

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A Time Of Change - Chapter Three - The Fourth

Title: A Time Of Change Chapter Three: The Fourth Summary: Ava Bradford. Behavioral Analyst of the Miami Police Department. Or former Analyst after the events of the past force her to journey to England and take up a job away from the family she had created. Here, she struggles to keep to herself and her life quickly takes over as she readies for her future on Baker Street. Author: Alexa @alex-awesome1023 Words: 4023 (sorry, not sorry) Characters/Relationships: OC x Sherlock Warnings: Depression, Anxiety, Past Physical Abuse, Nightmares Author’s Notes: Yes I know this Chapter is late but i haven't been around a computer to be able to write or post anything so that's on me. But im really excited for everyone to read this. Ive been reading and seeing positive feedback and i am overjoyed with the results especially with the tags!!! Can't wait to see more of your comments and feedback! LOVE YOU GUYS!!!

Original Character Ava Bradford is inspired by Zoey Deutch. Enjoy!❤

Finally arriving to Scotland Yard, you were surprised at how big the building was. The precinct in Miami was barely four stories whereas this building practically engulfed that plus more. Taking a moment to look around at the surroundings as you looked at the sizable sign, the text shining as it read “New Scotland Yard”, you shivered from the cold. It’s going to take some time to get used to this London weather. Not being able to stay out in the chill for too long, you quickly walked into the huge building and headed straight for the receptionist desk.

“Hi um, I’m here to see Detective Inspector Lestrade, please.” You said to the receptionist while rummaging through your bag trying to find your ID and badge.

“Name.”

“Ava Bradford” Still typing away at her computer not really paying any attention to you, you handed her your identification when a commotion from the entrance caught your attention. You see two people enter, or rather storm through the doors discussing something in harsh tones. The woman, a young black woman with dark curly hair in her late twenties, was fuming, her face pinched into a scowl and lips pursed. The man was around her age, his hair parted neatly down the middle and his face equally mad. I don’t like the vibe they’re giving off. I can practically smell the stupidity and arrogance. As they walk closer you happen to hear their heated conversation.

“I’m going to kill him! That freak has got some nerve to do that shit in the middle of a press conference. Unbelievable!” She yelped loud enough for both you and the receptionist to look up.

“Oh Sergeant Donovan, are you going up to see Lestrade?” The receptionist asked with a hopeful tone. You had a feeling that she didn’t want to get up off her own ass to go show you where to go.

“I have police reports to give him, why?” She questioned unmannerly, looking to you for a moment with an interest and then complete ignorance like you were a child. Sergeant Donovan made her way over to you both as the receptionist gave you back your ID and badge.

“Would you take Miss Bradford up to see him please?” She asked and you heard the plead in her voice; you metaphorically rolled your eyes. I don’t need anyone’s help. Donovan’s heels echoed through the lobby, the noise echoing ominously, the nameless man still following behind just a step.

They stood with you at the desk, blatantly judging all five feet and two inches of your casual appearance. The man was practically drooling as his eyes trailed up your body and down again; you forced yourself not to gag.

You noticed that Sergeant Donovan was taking a long look at your scuffed pair of classic converse, laced up with polka dot laces. Her expression morphed from a dismissing glance to a repugnant smirk. You knew just then what she thought of you; she thought you were a kid, a teen and someone easy for her to bully. You knew that this was because of your short height plus the laces. Donovan herself was about 5’5 and him about 5’11 so it wasn't that big of a deal really, you were used to being to smallest in the room at 5’2.

“Sure follow me.” Donovan jeered with exasperation in her voice. The man behind her didn't say anything, he just started with a smug grin plastered on his face. They both walked a little in front of you guiding the way. As you three came to the elevator you stopped causing the two to look back at you in confusion. As you looked up at the silver death box, you felt you heart skip and your hand start to sweat. You cursed to yourself.

“Can we, um, take the stairs? I’m trying to work on my cardio.” You blurted out with a small chuckle trying to sound as calm as possible. They both looked at you with confusion and disbelief.

“I would just take the lift, it’s on the twelfth floor.” She insisted as the doors opened and both her and the man stepped in. You looked up at it once more with internal grievance. It’s not worth it Ava, just suck it up. You got it the elevator and were immediately filled with regret. As the two of them discussed what you assume was dinner plans, you decide to take your mind off the death box by figuring out more about the two officers.

Sally Donovan; works for the Metropolitan Police Service as a Detective Sergeant judging by her badge and attitude, she has a huge ego, very rude and hates to be told wrong. That will be fun. She has un-showered hair and worn clothes not more than a day old and is wearing men's deodorant. She’s had a night out. Dull… Seeing the name clip tag on the man’s pocket, you read him.

Phillip Anderson; works for Metropolitan Police Service as a police officer and forensic scientist. Snarky, stuck up, rude, loves to prove people wrong and a perv. He's got the whole package. he’s married going by the ring but I can't tell if it’s happy. A blue buttoned down shirt but un-showered. Taking a sniff, you are taken back by the strong powerful mixture of men's cologne and deodorant but you find that the deodorant, it’s the same as Sergeant Donovan. A colleague scandal.… How fascinating.

You giggled at your discovery and the drama that could come with it, causing both Donovan and the man, Philip, to look at you like you were insane.

“What's so funny that’s got you twisted in knots?” Phillip asked bitterly, his comment making you pause as you tried to figure out the meaning. I keep forgetting that I’m in London with people with British accents, weird being the only American sometimes.

“Oh nothing really. Ignore me.” You managed to say with a steady voice. You could feel your lungs tighten and burn from trying to keep your breathing steady, your heart quickening with nerves with every beep of the elevator letting you know that you've climbed a floor level. Reaching for your necklace, you took a deep breath to calm yourself and expel the anxiety within your core.

Finally feeling the box stop, you ushered towards the door rather quickly but not to the point of abnormality. You instantly felt better after getting out and you let the fresh air into your lungs with a deep breath. That wasn't so bad.

Donovan and Phillip pass by you without a second glance and you follow the two down the corridor to an office. You read the name on the door and desk laminate. Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade. As you walk in, you see a man in his late 30’s or early 40's with graying hair sitting at the desk drinking coffee, going by the smell. He looked up from his paperwork and flashed a weak smile.

“Hello, you must be Detective Bradford.” He said as he stood from his chair and reached to shake your hand. As you went to shake his hand, Donovan choked on the air.

“This ‘kid’ is the new Behavioral Analysis Detective!?” She barked, loud enough for the whole floor to hear.

“As a matter of fact, I am, Sergeant Sally Donovan and you should be quick to hold that tongue of yours considering the circumstances. I suggest you get back to trying to solve these suicides instead of spending the whole night out on the town. And Mr Anderson, please try spending sometime with your wife and not with the other woman.” You raised your brow and shifted your eyes between the two then turning around to shake Greg’s outstretched hand. “Oh and by the way, not that it matters but I am twenty-five, soon to be twenty-six and I do not get any bigger than this, so watch who you call ‘kid’.” You added not even bothering to look at them as you sat in the leather chair across from Greg whose jaw was hanging loose.

You can almost feel the daggers going through the back of your head from both parties. Without saying another word, Donovan stormed off with Anderson in toe. “Your file said you were good but not like that.” You looked up to Greg, who sat there with wide eyes.

“Oh please they were open books as far I can see. It was obvious.“ You said in an uncaring tone with a quick smile, crossing your leg over the other.

“It wasn't obvious to me.” He sat down in his chair, still looking at you with bewilderment.

“That's because you weren't looking hard enough. Shall we continue?” You smiled politely at him as he leaned back into the plush of his chair, his coffee mug raised to his lips as he drank. Little did you know he was thinking of his old Consulting Detective friend and how he is going to love watching you make him squirm.

You and Greg, as he insisted you call him, his casual demeanor a surprise to you, had talked for a while about the case and of how things worked around the Yard. Greg was finishing up the paperwork to get you in the system as you sat on your chair, your phone in your hand as you looked at the weather around the area to pass the time. You wanted to know when it was going to snow, but as you looked at the weather radar, your phone buzzed, alerting you of a text. It was your sister Lyra.

You were about to read the text when a knock at the door pulled you from your phone. You looked behind you towards the source of the sound where there was a woman standing behind the door frame, poking her head into the room. “Mr. Lestrade?”

“Yes Natalie?” He turned his head towards the woman as she stood out from behind the wall, her hands fidgeting in front of her. Why is she so antsy?

“There’s an urgent call for you on the phone.” She said, still fidgeting with her fingers. You couldn’t help the deductions that began to pop in and out of your head. Young woman in her early-mid twenties. Telling by her body language she is uncertain and flustered. Why? Her clothes are flirtatious and womanly to show and hug her curves. Her makeup looks to be refreshed and she’s just re-applied perfume, a sickly sweet floral concoction, probably from a local pharmacy. She’s trying to show off, but to who? Her eyes are dilated and targeted at Greg, who is looking at the paperwork, slightly ignoring her presence. Final deduction; she has a crush on the Detective Inspector, a crush that is clearly not mutual. You beamed to yourself as you sit back in the chair.

“Ok, thank you Natalie, I’ll be right there.” He replied looking to her for a moment. You caught a glimpse of her face as she exited and retreated back to her desk. She was beet red. You turn your head back to Greg, who was standing from his desk. You stand along with him.

“So I think you’re pretty much set up and ready to go. You don’t have a lot of paperwork for now since it’s your first day and as for now you're on call until you get more settled.” He started walking towards the door.

“Ok, that sounds great. I can’t wait to get started.” You bubbled with a cheeky grin. You were so happy to be here and help people by doing what you did. “Thank you again so much for this opportunity Detective Inspector.” You added with genuine smile walking out the door with him.

“Please, call me Greg and no problem. Welcome to our division Detective.” He muttered over his shoulder walking toward the horde of desks. You turn around and made your way opposite Greg to the death box as you decided to be brave and take the elevator again. You feel Sally and Anderson’s eyes piercing your back as you headed towards the elevator. What is their problem?

Down in the lobby once more, you made your way out the door, thinking about what you could do to pass some time. You had thought of going back home and unpacking but then your aunt popped up and you realised that you still hadn’t seen her yet. She was going to kill you for not seeing her right away. As you waved down a taxi you noticed that a police car had pulled up in front with haste. You furrowed your brow with confusion until you heard someone call your name out with urgency behind you, the pieces falling into place as you turned to see Greg coming out of the building.

“Ava!”He had his coat on and was approaching you fast, his face creased and plastered with worry and seriousness. Something is up. Another murder.

“Where?”

“Brixton, Lauriston Gardens and this one left a note. Will you come?” He continued, not bothered by the fact that you knew it was another suicide.

“Are you kidding me? Three, now four impossible suicides and all the same cause and now a note. Is it my birthday already?!” You blurted out not waiting for him to respond. As you both get in the police car , you hear a chuckle coming from him. “What?”

“Nothing, you’re just going to really like who is coming to help with the case.” He added from his side of the car. You were too immersed in your own thoughts to really bother asking him who the mystery person was but your answer soon came when you realised where you were headed; Baker Street.

“Let me guess, it’s the great Sherlock Holmes? That's your help?” You said mockingly in a British accent. Greg seemed to be amused and mocked hurt at your awful impression.

“He’s a consultant and a genius. He can be a real pain to be around but he’s a great man. Maybe one day he might be a good one.” He implied not breaking eye contact with the road. You didn't exactly know what that meant, but the look on his face told you that he wasn't lying. This Sherlock keeps getting more interesting as the day goes on. At leased you get to pop into see Aunt Martha.

As the car stopped you turned your full body over to Lestrade and asked with a pleading look. “Can I go in with you?”

“Uh, sure?” His eyes narrowed with confusion as to why you wanted to go in or why is was necessary to ask but he didn't argue. Both of you get out of the police car and you basically hopped out with joy. He couldn’t believe that you were so much like Sherlock that it scared him a bit. You looked up at the building opposite yours and you notice the man at the window on the second floor, looking at you. Your head tilted in curiosity as to who it was, or more like as to why he was looking. Pulling your sight away from the window, you followed Lestrade inside.

He didn’t bother to knock, which struck you as odd, and he bounded up the stairs taking two at a time. You stayed downstairs to see if your aunt was in but before you could, you heard footsteps coming from the stairwell. It was an old woman in her seventies she was wearing a purple dress that tied in the middle and a newspaper, a similar style to that of Mrs. Turner. You loved that color and knew from the family pictures that Lyra had shown over the years who the woman was.

“Aunt Martha?” She looked up from her skirts, which she was holding lest she tripped on them, and caught your figure at the bottom of the stairs. She paused in her stride before recognition made itself apparent on her face, her eyes brightening and a smile appearing upon her lips.

“Ava! Hello love!” She asked as she came closer to you pulling you into a loving hug. “How are you dear? How was the flight? Would you like something? Tea maybe?” Aunt Martha pulled back from you, her face now washed with concern over you. “I’m alright thanks. The flight was good long, but good but the train ride was tiring. But I’m working right now so I dont have much time to talk but I just wanted to see you and tell you I was here. I only got here a couple of hours ago.” You said with a cheeky smile, holding her hands in your own. The last time you saw her was three years ago at a Christmas dinner. It was the first time the whole family was together and knowing that the Bradford family had English heritage, you couldn't help but think how lucky you were to have a family like this one, knowing how bad some kids could get it. You of all people should know. You always loved the English language, everything was always so beautifully said even if it was an insult.

“We’ll just have to catch up next time then won’t we? I hope Mrs.Turner is treating you well. Has she told you about Sherlock yet?” She asked, with her hand over her mouth trying to hide the giggle.

“She mentioned him to me not even five minutes into the flat. The old women seems to get a kick watching your flatmate.” You laughed out, your aunt tries to hide her laughter with a playfully stern grin, lightly hitting your arm with the newspaper she had with her. “Be nice.” When her giggles couldn’t be contained you both laugh like school girls. Hearing footsteps coming down the stairs, you both quieted but still smiling like mad men. Seeing that it was Lestrade, he gave you a look to let you know that it was time to go. You nodded at him letting him know you got the message. “Ok, Aunt Martha I have to go but I will be back. We can have tea later.”

“Alright love. Be safe.” She waved at you as she headed back up the stairs. You were heading out the door you heard a yell from up stairs, the deep baritone of the voice rumbling through the walls with its volume.

“Brilliant!” It was a voice filled with excitement and you smiled as you closed the door on your way to the crime scene.

----------------------------------------

You arrived at the crime scene with the knowledge of the victim given to you from a text in Greg’s phone. Jennifer Wilson according to the credit card found at the scene. Some kids found her not too long ago when they were ...Why kids be here of all places?

You headed up stairs without waiting for anyone, passing Sally at the entrance, ignoring the sneer she sent your way. A couple people from forensics tried to get you to put on a blue contaminant prevention suit, however you refused and stepped past them anyway, much to their annoyance. Like I’m going to mess up the scene. Idiots. Half way up, you realized that you didn't have any gloves and knowing what you do about Anderson, he would surely have a fit upon seeing your gloveless hands. You would prefer not to have to talk to him for more than necessary. Getting to the bottom of the stairs, you hear Sally’s voice come in over the radio that was left on the table. “Freak’s here. Bringing him in.”

“Freak?” You asked yourself, feeling an old pinch in your chest. Hearing Sally call someone that just made your blood boil. Nobody should be called a freak in any circumstance.

You heard Anderson come out of the room upstairs and, looking up the stairwell, you catch the look of pure disgust on his face as he furiously walked down the stairs, passing you without so much as a glance. You followed him out but kept to the shadows of the doorway. You watched as a very tall man with ebony curls and a belstaff coat approached the building. You couldn’t help but stare. He was... beautiful. You knew who he was by his cheekbones, it was the consultant. Mrs.Turner was right. Those cheekbones could kill. Turning your attention towards the table of forensic gear you could still hear Mr. Holmes talking to Anderson.

“I'm not implying anything I’m sure Sally came by for a nice little chat and just happen to stay over.” The deep mellow voice said making you freeze and your eyes go wide with realization. You covered your mouth to try to stop the bubble of laughter in your throat but it was no help. “And I assume she scrubbed your floors going by the state her knees.” He finished making you burst. It was loud and you knew that everyone could have heard it but you didn't care. You had tears in your eyes from holding the full laugh back. Oh my god, I can't believe he said that out loud!

Grabbing a pair of gloves you bounded up the stairs, wanting to get a look for yourself before this consulting detective came in. You entered the room seeing the body laying face down. The first thought that came to your mind was less a thought and more of an obvious statement. Pink.

[Sherlock point of view]

After Sherlock deduced Anderson's affair with Sally, he heard a burst of laughter from the building, smiling at the fact that someone else knew. With John close behind, the pair entered the building, meeting Lestrade at the door.

“I can get you two minutes.”

“I may need more.” Sherlock replied going toward the kitchen area.

Looking towards the staircase he caught a glimpse of a beige coat and strange pair of polka dotted laced converse. Narrowing his eyes at the sight, he put it off, assuming that it was nothing of import. Lestrade was by the table and he held out a suit of the most ghastly blue to Sherlock, waving it a little for him to take.

“You'll need to put this on.” He handed one to John as well and seemed taken aback by the new presence. He looked at Sherlock with raised brows, then to once more to John then back again. “Who is this?“ He asked bemused and pissed off.

“He’s with me.” Imbecile.

“Yeah but who is he?” He pestered putting on a blue cover up.

“I said he’s with me.” Sherlock turned his head like a whip and glared at Lestrade.

“Fine. At least put one of these on.” He asked which Sherlock, in return, ignored. I heard the frustration in his sigh, huffing my breath in humour.

“So where are we?” Sherlock asked as they made our way up the staircase.

“Upstairs. Jennifer Wilson according to her credit cards, we're running them for contact details. Hasn't been here long, some kids found her.” Lestrade informed the two in front of him as they reached the room, stopping when they saw someone hunched down near the lady in pink. She was… an anomaly, as Sherlock had immediately thought. There was no other way to describe her he found.

Her small stature, childish laces and mundane appearance were all boring to him. Insignificant. Nevertheless, there was… something. But what? She’s obviously in this line of profession, expertly prodding at the body, turning the victim’s collar inside out and over again. Now there’s an interesting thought. The collar could indicate rain and wind, even snow if she came from the north, which would mean - oh, the girl’s traveled. She had moved from one side of the body to the other, now getting a view if her face, he could seem to pull his eyes away. She was different and interesting enough for him to be absolutely... captivated.

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ships-sailing-in-the-night · 6 years

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The CW’s annual Arrowverse crossover kicks off with the wedding of The Flash lovebirds Barry Allen and Iris West on Monday’s Supergirl — but it’s not long before the happy occasion is rudely interrupted by Earth-X Nazis and evil doppelgängers Dark Arrow, Dark Flash and Overgirl.

The ensuing battle feels like “a four-hour escape,” Arrow star Stephen Amell describes. “There are some through-line storylines like Oliver and Felicity’s relationship, and Barry and Iris’ relationship, and what’s going on with Sara, what’s going on with Victor [Garber] and Franz [Drameh’s characters on Legends of Tomorrow].” But this year’s multi-show extravaganza, which stretches over two consecutive nights, is “not a crossover anymore,” the actor adds. “Call it the crossover if you want. But it’s kind of like calling the Super Bowl just a football game. Yeah, sure, they play football, but there’s so much other stuff that goes on with it. It’s an event.”

The franchise’s latest event is also “bigger than ever,” with “some of the biggest sequences” and “the most superheroes we’ve ever seen together at any given time” on one of the DCTV shows, The Flash leading man Grant Gustin previews.

It’s not just pure spectacle, although “you really feel the scale of it this year,” Legends actress Maisie Richardson-Sellers says. “One thing they did beautifully is there are lots of personal relationships woven into it as well. So it’s not just one big fight. You also get to know certain characters a lot deeper, and there’s some love in it, and there’s some loss in it. It’s a very emotional journey, as well as spectacular.”

Caity Lotz echos her castmate: “I like this crossover better than last year’s crossover because there is a lot more normal, human things in it. It’s still pretty huge, it’s still pretty fantastical. But it’s more grounded in the characters,” with the lessons learned carrying over “for the characters in the other seasons.”

“We’ve been leading up to this wedding for a long time,” The Flash star Grant Gustin says. However, Barry and Iris’ big church ceremony doesn’t take place on the show that regularly features the couple, but on Supergirl. “We’ve consistently had these crossovers, and we’re bringing so many characters together for this wedding, it’s kind of fitting that it happens somewhere else,” the actor explains.

The Flash actress Candice Patton did more than just wear Iris’ fairytale wedding gown; she picked it out! “They actually flew me to L.A. to go to Monique Lhuillier to find a dress for Iris,” Patton says. “There’s a line in the script about how Monique Lhuillier dresses are indestructible. She really goes through it in this episode in this wedding dress, and it’s still pristine… The first dress I tried on, we were like, ‘OK, this is it. This is great. Feels good. Comfortable.’ The most important thing was, ‘Am I comfortable? Am I going to be able to, like, run away from aliens or whatever?'”

Get your tissues ready, because Joe gives “a beautiful speech” during the rehearsal dinner, shares Carlos Valdes, who plays Barry’s best man Cisco. “That’s the thing about Jesse [L. Martin] that kills me: No matter how ambiguous it looks on the page, he gets up there, and he just gives it heart and commits to it, whatever the line is, whatever the action is, and everybody just melts. That’s his superpower.”

Broadway vet Jesse L. Martin’s Joe “doesn’t sing at the wedding. But there is music at the wedding,” Valdes hints. Hmmm…

As far as memorable character interactions in the crossover go, Arrowstar Stephen Amell says he “really enjoyed Oliver and Kara’s stuff — but not in the way that you might think.” Adds his co-star David Ramsey: “Stephen [Amell] and Melissa [Benoist] particularly shine. They really do a fantastic job.”

Not to be outdone by the Kara and Oliver scenes, the Scarlet Speedster and the Girl of Steel also have some “fun, classic Barry-and-Kara interactions,” Gustin says. Plus, Barry meets “a couple new characters.”

Unlike last year’s crossover, during which Alex was MIA, this time around, “I’m all over it!” Supergirl‘s Chyler Leigh exclaims. “Every day, 14-hour camera days, every single day for three and a half weeks.”

Alex and Kara are the sole Earth-38 citizens to travel to Earth-One for Barry and Iris’ nuptials, where “disaster ensues” when the Earth-X baddies invade. “It’s everybody banding together and figuring out strengths, weaknesses,” Leigh describes. “You have all these minds in one place, and all these superpowers in one place, all these costumes in one place. I was like, ‘I’m really glad that I have a DEO outfit. Like, I’m super stoked about this.'”

For the Danvers sisters, the wedding day crisis “is very much a duke-it-out [situation], like, ‘We’re here together. We’re in this,'” Leigh describes. “At certain moments, we’re fighting for each other, fighting to get to each other, and fighting together. You really get to see a lot of sides of everybody, and sides that you wouldn’t expect.”

And for Supergirl leading lady Melissa Benoist, having her co-star in the mix was a welcome treat. “I always wished that she had been by my side for every crossover that I’ve done,” Benoist says. “Because they are always so massive and such undertakings, workload-wise. I said to myself at the end of last year’s crossover, ‘There’s no way it could get bigger than this. How are they going to write something bigger than this?’ Well, they wrote something massive that was overwhelming to read — in an exciting way, of course.”

This year’s crossover required Benoist to also play Supergirl’s evil Earth-X doppelgänger, Overgirl. “I did wear a very different outfit,” Benoist describes. “There’s still a cape, and my face is covered, and she’s not so nice. It was pretty challenging. I’ve had moments like that on [Supergirl] with Bizarro and when Martian Manhunter takes over Kara’s body, but this was entirely different. This was not even red Kryptonite-esque. This was way worse.”

Speaking of doppelgängers, Amell also portrays Dark Arrow, while Oliver must deal with Earth-X’s version of Prometheus. The “payoff” with that latter plot “was really worth it” and leads to “one my favorite scenes of the entire season,” Amell raves.

As per usual, Mick is “just taking the piss out of everyone, it seems, on the four shows,” Legends star Dominic Purcell shares with a laugh. “He’s just having a blast, having a lot of fun.” And there’s one particular character with whom Heat Wave would like to have fun: “Rory has the hots for Killer Frost,” Purcell previews. “He’s had a crush on her for quite some time. Whether or not that will develop into anything, I doubt it, because I’m not sure if Rory can be tamed at this point.”

Now that The Flash‘s Caitlin has a costumed, superpowered alter ego, “I finally got the chance to sort of suit up, as it were, and get out there and fight with everyone,” Danielle Panabaker says. Plus, the actress shares “some really funny interactions with Dom [Purcell]. Heat Wave’s really into Killer Frost. He’d really like to know a little more about her. He’d really like to figure out how to make [Killer Frost] come out, as well!”

Arrow‘s “Mr. Terrific definitely has a bigger footprint in this crossover than last year,” Echo Kellum previews. “I think he really helps figure out some stuff [about] what’s going on with Crisis-X.” Curtis also has “a little chemistry” with Earth-X’s gay superhero The Ray (played by Quantico and Looking vet Russell Tovey). “We had some fun scenes that we shot together,” Kellum teases.

In addition to more interaction with Legends like Sara Lance and Mick Rory, as well as sharing screentime with the Danvers sisters, Iris has “a lot, a lot, a lot” of scenes with Arrow‘s Felicity. “We kind of team up in the crossovers,” Patton teases.

“The best thing that we got to do was the big gathering of everyone here in our world, on the Waverider, which was pretty awesome,” Legends star Brandon Routh says. “It was a really unique and fun thing.” But pulling off the epic scene was not an easy feat. “We used to get upset about [having] nine characters on the bridge and figuring out how to shoot that, but having 21 or whatever it was is pretty insane,” the actor notes. “But Greg Smith, who was our director for our episode, knew what he wanted pretty quick. You have to have your ducks in a row when doing a crossover because people are coming from four different shows, like, ‘We have Melissa [Benoist] for two hours, and we have Grant [Gustin] for an hour, and we have Stephen [Amell] for 30 seconds!’ So gotta get the shot!”

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appreciatedinretrospect · 6 years

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Music Recommendations #3

HERE’S A READING PLAYLIST

The Longshot- Love Is For Losers

BUT WAIT! IF YOU CLICK HERE, THERE’S MORE JAMS MANG

Billie Joe Armstrong has a disease. The man can’t stop. He needs his fix. Time can’t go too long before he gets the itch. There’s a classic catalogue of close to 30 years of Green Day, the demented new wave band The Network, Pinhead Gunpowder, multiple contributions to the world of broadway, a tribute record to the Everly Brothers with Norah Jones, and Green Day’s blackout superhero alter ego’s the Foxboro Hot Tubs. But that isn’t enough, nor is it ever going to be. Now enters The Longshot featuring David S. Field and Kevin Preston of Prima Donna and the world’s most consistent man Jeff Matika. I personally this it’s poetic that ten years ago, Kevin Preston was the live guitarist in Foxboro Hot Tubs and he’s now making records with Billie Joe and his best friend. The Longshot’s sound could be Foxboro’s alter ego if The Reverend Strychnine Twitch just wanted to sing songs that feel good rather than destroy everything in his path with a tall can of PBR. Or maybe it’s the Look For Love kid all grown up. This is the release Billie Joe needed to get the melodies he hears in his head out without any constrictions or expectations of it being a Green Day album. Influences ranging from, 60s pop, 70s punk and rock n roll and 80s heartbreakers like the mighty Replacements. They even covered my favorite Ozzy song on the LP. Every song plays like oldies single on a jukebox. I think the Trilogy albums pair nicely with this album as well, which you’ll all get in five years. Everyone pretends they weren’t salty about The Clash’s Sandinista once upon a time as well, so keep that in mind. This feels like how rock n roll is supposed to feel; fun, spontaneous and a wink to our influences. Interesting things tend to happen when Billie Joe Armstrong creates a side project. Stay tuned and check out the Longshot on tour.

Released: April 20, 2018

Albert Hammond Jr- Francis Trouble

The Strokes have a seemingly complicated history as a band. It’s a part of the allure, but it also causes many people anxiety because they’re a cult band that made it incredibly big. Rock music in the early 2000s was put into strange territory, mainly because of the media. For the entirety of the past decade Albert Hammond Jr. has challenged the perception of fading into the rock n roll grave yard of obscurity while challenging himself to hone his talents to create something that can stand on its own two feet, independent of The Strokes. Life’s inevitability and curve balls can wake you up and command you to go for whatever your version of greatness looks like. All of you have something you could be incredible at given the skill set you were born with and hopefully cultivated. A curve ball for Albert Hammond Jr was learning about his unborn twin who died in a miscarriage. The impact that can have on your existence must be overwhelming. To a creative, that’s means to express. Francis Trouble is officially born in the alter ego in Red Suits who is love struck, a little lost but ultimately wants to just have a good time. I can relate to that. This concept freed Albert Hammond Jr to immerse himself further into the music and have a creative rebirth of his own. Liberate yourself enough to explore your identity. Then really go for the ridiculous things you want in life. I personally think this is his strongest material and I really thought Momentary Masters was a e new height for his songwriting. The vulnerability of almost wearing the mast of Francis Trouble allows AHJ to find his voice on record while crating the music landscape reminiscent of why we all copied his style of guitar playing in the first place.

Released: March 9, 2018

Label: Red Bull Records

Kali Uchis- Islolation

This album has been waited on by the majority of people not living under a rock. Kali Uchis is known for being the last piece of any puzzle an artist has been trying to put together musically as one of the better featured artists in the past ten years. But how would a full length work? Well I think you got what you wanted and there’s nothing remotely surprising about it. Isolation is an amalgamation of eclecticism using damn near every color of the palette of pop music. Compositionally this album is untouchable. Kali Uchis recruited an all star lineup of producers to help her create the world in her head. Thundercat, Damon Albarn, Kevin Parker, Tyler The Creator, Bootsy Collins, and Greg Kurstin to name a few. It’s April right now but this feels like a summer album to me, maybe it’s all the reverb or the reggaeton rhythms. If this our official introduction to her formally as an artist, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s mentioned Queen alongside Sade, Lauryn Hill, Erika Badu, Amy Winehouse or Hope Sandoval as I personally already do. Anyone wanting to hear generic pop bangers or wanted to hear ten songs repeating themselves showed up with the wrong intention. Go take a walk, somewhere preferably pretty, and hear this album in headphones. Be in your technicolored animated film.

Released: April 6, 2018

Label: Virgin/EMI

L.A Salami- CIty Of Bootmakers

I’m not sure if L.A Salami has consciously been making one long movie this entire time or intended on these albums being sequels to one another, expanding on the sound and topics the more knowledge he obtains through living in whatever that year had had to offer. This past year has been utter insanity. The world can’t decide if it’s getting way better or completely falling apart. If you told yourself even five years ago what this all looked like right now, you wouldn’t believe a word of it. It defies logic. We’ enter the city of Bootmakers by being being serenaded and briefed into being informed in a bedroom/Springsteen style anthem that we’re in fact a lost generation, trying to figure out what went wrong. City of Bootmakers analyzes the dichotomy's of life being a double edged sword. And it doesn’t really mean much of anything, except it means everything. It’s a lot to unpackaged all at once. Go line by line on this album, nothing short of reality is up for grabs. Fear mongering from our governments and media, gentrification, capitalism in general, or just figuring out how and why to exist. This time around it’s seems to be more about telling the listener the way it is, rather than asking questions. I enjoyed hearing the evolution of L.A Salami’s songwriting and conversations musically he’s having with his bandmates, making more concise tunes in the process. They have an excellent chemistry that pushing his sound forward. Musically this feels like a capitalization on what L.A Salami has been developing for the past few years. It just happens to get get better every time. What is This transitioning into Jean is Gone as a bonus track feels like an ending to something like a series of books or movies. That could just be me, but I am interested to see what could happen with the evolution of our favorite wordsmith.

Released: April 13 2018

Label: Sunny Day Best Recordings

Fiddlehead- Springtime and Blind

You want to know how to make a classic record? All you have to do is mean it.

Boston’s Fiddlehead consists of Patrick Flynn, Shawn Costa of Have Heart, Basement guitarist Alex Henery. Their debut full length LP Springtime and Blind documents the mourning of singer Patrick Flynn’s father. As a concept that inherently makes the album a heavy listen, and it’s just that. The songs are skillfully crafted and they result as a standout in the emo genre to the standard of every other release on Run For Cover Records. I would definitely call this an emo album above anything else. Frankly one it’s leading examples. Springtime and Blind is as raw as it gets emotionally taking on the perspective of Flynn’s mother coping with the loss of her spouse as well as being a child losing a parent. Emotionally driven music is typically to gain some kind of catharsis and Flynn seemed to have done just that. At the very least he conveyed his message and connected with the listener. Anybody dealing with loss of any kind or a rough transitional period in general give this a spin. Especially if you’re a fan of Jawbreaker, Rites of Spring, Get Up Kids, Adventures, Basement, Title Fight, Fugazi, Sunny Day Real Estate etc. this should be right up your alley. Enjoy.

Released: April 13, 2018

Label: Run For Cover Records

#nicomiles #421 #music #new music #new release #billie joe armstrong #green day #albert hammond jr #the strokes #kali uchis #fiddlehead #run for cover records #red bull records #la salami #music blog

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footballleague0 · 7 years

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Inside the Cleveland Indians clubhouse during their historic 22 game win streak

The Indians do all these things and more, but what they do not do, except under the duress of direct questioning, is talk about the streak, at least while it’s happening.

“The mindset really isn’t on the winning streak,” Greg Allen says.

“We’re not wrapped up in it,” Kluber says.

“We’re not talking about it as much as you guys are,” Cody Allen says.

Everyone else certainly talks about it. Some analysts call it the most dominant stretch of baseball ever played. Led by Edwin Encarnacion and Carlos Santana, Cleveland hits more home runs than its opponents score runs. Kluber and Carlos Carrasco lead the pitching staff to an ERA under 2.00. Their run differential across the 22 wins is greater than their run differential for all of last season — and that team won the pennant.

They sweep the Orioles and the Tigers.

They steadfastly say they aren’t that concerned with the record.

“We haven’t talked about it at all,” Kluber says.

“We’re playing good baseball,” outfielder Jay Bruce says.

Ballplayers are always concerned about anything that might upset the delicate equilibrium they have constructed one routine day after another. Only the rare team can be like the 2017 Indians; nearly every other team would let the streak consume them, including last year’s Indians. One of the players quotes a former Cleveland coach, Scott Radinsky, who pitched in the big leagues and fronted an underground but important punk band, a kind of free spirit who allows a clubhouse to function, to balance the prima donnas and the insane.

He always said he wanted to play with the kind of men he could lose with.

The same idea applies to winning.

“Success will mess with you,” Bauer says. “Sometimes you get, ‘I can skip this because I’m good.’ It takes a lot of mental discipline to stick with it regardless of outcome.”

The Indians say the streak brings lightness and air to the room. But they refuse to chase it, or revel in it, or pretend that it has its own meaning or value, other than getting them back to the postseason, where they came up one run short a year ago.

A streak brings attention and pressure, which continue to exist after the spark that creates it is extinguished. So they’ve spent six months in present tense, taking cues from their manager, who conducts 22 postgame news conferences while sidestepping and tap-dancing and refusing to say the streak carries any significance. “That’s why Tito is so good at what he does,” Allen says after a win, as Pitt and Penn State play on a television near his locker. “Regardless of if we won 10 in a row or lost eight in a row, he’s the same guy.”

As the son of a major leaguer, Terry Francona (far right) grew up in stadiums and feels most at ease among players. Rick Osentoski/USA TODAY Sports

Down the hall, Francona sits in his office behind a huge framed picture of himself as a child, in the Indians dugout with his dad. He is, perhaps more than anyone else in the game, a creation of this weird, subterranean clubhouse world. “I’m probably more comfortable here than I am anywhere,” he says, gesturing around at the concrete walls. “I think I have an advantage because I grew up here.”

Some of his earliest memories are from clubhouses.

His father, the original Tito Francona, played for nine teams, including six seasons with Cleveland. Young Terry once walked across a field before a game to shake Ted Williams’ hand. “Mr. Williams,” he said, “I’m Mr. Francona’s son, and he wanted me to come over and say hello.”

Williams grinned at the boy.

“Well, you are a great-looking kid!” he replied. “Now I want to know one thing, young man. Can you hit?”

Francona saw how his father’s friends treated each other and the game, and every lesson he got about how a man behaved was taught by ballplayers. His humor, his ethics, his personal code — all shaped inside a stadium. As an 11-year-old, Francona got to go with his dad on a three-city road trip, through Minnesota, Chicago and Kansas City, riding the planes and buses, hearing the dirty jokes and lining his pockets with free clubhouse candy. His mom sent him off with combed hair and a sport coat and got back a road-busted mess of a kid, who loved every minute.

“It was probably the 10 funnest days of my life,” Francona says during the streak.

Success will mess with you. Sometimes you get, ‘I can skip this because I’m good.’ It takes a lot of mental discipline to stick with it regardless of outcome.

– Trevor Bauer

So he’s been happy these past weeks, not because he’s managing a team into the history books but because he’s been at a baseball stadium. Sitting in his office, which was exactly 68 degrees, he brings up something his old boss Theo Epstein once said about him. “He loves the game,” Epstein told Boston Globe baseball writer Dan Shaughnessy. “He physically loves the clubhouse. Emotionally, I think he loves to let go of the outside world. Some people compartmentalize the job. Tito compartmentalizes the real world and throws himself into the clubhouse. He loves every aspect of the clubhouse.”

Francona smiles at the insight.

“I remember when I read that,” Francona says. “I was like, damn. I obviously know Theo was smart, but if I was going to be candid, that’s pretty damned close. To me, this is probably my real world. I admit that.”

The clubhouse cost him a marriage and his health, and he can’t count the nights he’s spent on a couch in a stadium, curled up beneath a blanket, alone. In his office in Cleveland, there’s a red and blue Indians-colored afghan that clearly looks as if it’s for more than decoration. Most days, he gets to his office early, not because he’s a hard worker, he says, but because he feels at home. Watching a stadium wake up makes him happy. Sitting in an empty cathedral like Fenway or Wrigley calms him; the present and past combine, the things he sees and the things he remembers washing over him together. He liked the way the boards creaked at the old Yankee Stadium because Babe Ruth probably heard that same noise. Even now, he enjoys hotel lobbies, because he’d hang out there when visiting his dad on the road, giving his old man space to sleep in and get ready for the game.

He will, when asked, cop to at least one superstition.

There’s a friend, whom he has nicknamed Gray Cloud, who’s always brought bad luck.

“I will not talk to him,” Francona says. “He is text only. He’s cost me one job, he’s not getting in the way again.”

Simplicity is the primary goal when he’s constructing his existence. In Boston, he even spent most seasons living in a hotel. For Francona, every day is the same, down to the number of water bottles he lines up in the dugout, and the hourlong swim he takes and the cribbage game he organizes. “I have a car here that I use about three times a year,” he says. “I got a little moped. I take it everywhere downtown. I know all the police. It’s Cleveland. After games, I’ll go down the one-way and they’re like, ‘Hey, good game.'”

He points out his office door.

“It’s parked right here in the hallway.”

He played 10 seasons in the big leagues and jokes to his players about what a lousy career he had. But he played through severe injury and pain, a grinder who understands the hopes all players bring with them into the clubhouse. He understands doubt and fear and ego and swagger, and what internal problem each of those things is an attempt to solve. During the streak, as more reporters arrive every day in the small interview room to talk about the streak, he’s more interested in finding out why the Browns released Pro Bowler Joe Haden, refusing to engage in record-chasing narratives, talking about how a season is fluid and how only today exists. He smiles and sighs when people keep asking questions, as if they think he’s spinning them and not living by the codes he internalized as a boy.

Winning brings pressure, but Corey Kluber was at his robotic best during the streak. Michael F. McElroy for ESPN

The streak will mean nothing come October. A year ago, the Indians took 14 in a row, rolling through opponents, and they still came up a game short in the World Series. That Game 7 loss influenced many things about this season, including the 22 games the team just won. Kipnis, the clubhouse monk in charge of Jobu, took the World Series loss harder than most.

“A lot of things got smashed,” he says.

He pauses a beat.

“I was one of them.”

In the ninth inning of Game 7, he launched a ball down the right-field line that just went foul. Standing in front of his locker, he says he’s watched that replay a lot. “Fraction of an inch,” he says, then demonstrating with his hand the slight bat angle that would have changed their lives. His hand doesn’t seem to move at all. It’s a tiny difference. “The following month you’re at home in your boxers eating pizza,” he says, “and you’re watching Rizzo and Bryant on late-night television and on SNL and you’re like, the fork in the road.”

When baseball people look at the Indians, other than wondering what kind of analytics the team uses to help its pitchers scout opponents, that is what they talk about. How did the team not let last year’s close call derail this season before it even began?

That’s Francona.

At the beginning of the season, the team did suffer from a hangover. Kluber says the starters were slow and sluggish. Kipnis says the games didn’t seem to matter as much. Francona called a rare meeting early in the summer, feeling his team caught in the back draft of last season, not living day to day, breaking the code. The players say things turned around after that, and the winning streak is the clearest and most outward example. There are others.

Last year’s streak took on meaning and affected the clubhouse dynamic in small but real ways. If the music wasn’t on in the clubhouse, someone would say something. Winning changed the mood in the room, and by the time it ended in Toronto, that’s all they could think about.

“That’s been the most impressive thing about this streak,” Bauer says. “You come to the field and it doesn’t feel like we have a winning streak going. We had a streak last year, and the intensity ramped up and then it got to the point where it just caught up to us. This year it feels completely different.”

Bauer’s been watching Francona closely and thinks Tito’s life growing up in clubhouses, and the decades of experience in them as an adult, has built up this almost sixth sense about the subtle interpersonal dynamics some managers don’t even know exist.

“He’s in tune with how this environment works,” Bauer says. “He gets here, and something might seem off. Before anyone is even at the field, he’s aware that something is off. Or something is on. Or something is different. He doesn’t realize he’s picking it up. It’s just his sense for it. It’s flow state. It occurs to him, and he doesn’t even realize it.”

No team has won as many games in a row as the 2017 Cleveland Indians, which is not how they want this season remembered. Last October left them longing to feel that joy and stress again, and they have almost made it through a long 183 days.

The streak ending is almost a relief because now the real business can begin.

The postseason is less than a month away.

“You’re like …” Kipnis says, and then he inhales deeply, like someone stepping out into the fresh air for the first time, “… we’re back. You can see how we’re playing. The team’s been waiting for it. You see us getting close to it, and we’re almost back there again.”

Wright Thompson A senior writer for ESPN.com and ESPN The Magazine, Wright Thompson is a native of Clarksdale, Mississippi; he currently lives in Oxford, Mississippi. Previously, he worked at The Kansas City Star and the New Orleans Times-Picayune. In 2001, he graduated from the University of Missouri School of Journalism.

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Inside the Cleveland Indians clubhouse during their historic 22 game win streak

The Indians do all these things and more, but what they do not do, except under the duress of direct questioning, is talk about the streak, at least while it’s happening.

“The mindset really isn’t on the winning streak,” Greg Allen says.

“We’re not wrapped up in it,” Kluber says.

“We’re not talking about it as much as you guys are,” Cody Allen says.

They sweep the Orioles and the Tigers.

They steadfastly say they aren’t that concerned with the record.

“We haven’t talked about it at all,” Kluber says.

“We’re playing good baseball,” outfielder Jay Bruce says.

He always said he wanted to play with the kind of men he could lose with.

The same idea applies to winning.

“Success will mess with you,” Bauer says. “Sometimes you get, ‘I can skip this because I’m good.’ It takes a lot of mental discipline to stick with it regardless of outcome.”

As the son of a major leaguer, Terry Francona (far right) grew up in stadiums and feels most at ease among players. Rick Osentoski/USA TODAY Sports

Some of his earliest memories are from clubhouses.

Williams grinned at the boy.

“Well, you are a great-looking kid!” he replied. “Now I want to know one thing, young man. Can you hit?”

“It was probably the 10 funnest days of my life,” Francona says during the streak.

Success will mess with you. Sometimes you get, ‘I can skip this because I’m good.’ It takes a lot of mental discipline to stick with it regardless of outcome.

– Trevor Bauer

Francona smiles at the insight.

He will, when asked, cop to at least one superstition.

There’s a friend, whom he has nicknamed Gray Cloud, who’s always brought bad luck.

“I will not talk to him,” Francona says. “He is text only. He’s cost me one job, he’s not getting in the way again.”

He points out his office door.

“It’s parked right here in the hallway.”

Winning brings pressure, but Corey Kluber was at his robotic best during the streak. Michael F. McElroy for ESPN

“A lot of things got smashed,” he says.

He pauses a beat.

“I was one of them.”

That’s Francona.

The streak ending is almost a relief because now the real business can begin.

The postseason is less than a month away.

The post Inside the Cleveland Indians clubhouse during their historic 22 game win streak appeared first on Daily Star Sports.

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