#*for this summer - they’re supposed to say by the end of the month. some people have already heard

[waugh-bao]

*

[dnpbeats]

Why I Don’t Think the Secret Project™ Is a Tour—This Time With Facts!

Let me start out by saying I do think they’ve brought up another tour enough that it will happen at some point, I just don’t think it will be this soon! (Also keep in mind Dan did imply there are two things coming up in his Tweet.) That being said, obviously I could be totally wrong. But hey, if they do announce a tour in a couple of weeks, there has to be someone that gets clowned by the announcement, and I’m happy to take the fall <3 Post under cut as it's long (1.3k words 💀)

The main reason I don’t think they’re announcing a tour is timing, but I do also have something to say about the hints they’ve been dropping and why I also don’t think it necessarily points towards a tour. So, to start, let’s look at how long they spent planning TATINOF and II. In “The Making of TABINOF,” Phil says they are releasing the book (on October 8th 2015) after working on it for a year and a half, which would be April 2014. Presumably, this is around the time they started working on TATINOF as well because they were supposed to be companions. TABINOF and TATINOF were announced together on March 26th 2015, so almost exactly a year after they started planning them. Even if you want to guess that TATINOF planning started a few months after TABINOF planning, keep in mind that they originally only planned the UK leg and planned the US tour after that. The UK leg ended November 15 2015 and they announced the US leg February 26 2016. So that’s a little over two months of them planning the US leg alone, when they already had the show itself all sorted.

With II, we know they were actively planning it for about a year. Phil follows that up to say they planned it for “the majority of this year [2018],” so let’s just call it 10-11 months. More so than that, Dan said that they realized they wanted to do a second tour “halfway through” TATINOF, which in my best guess places that decision around summer 2016. This means they seriously considered doing a second tour for ~6 months before they even started planning it. 

Now, if the new project coming up is a tour, they’ve only been working on it for 6 months max. They only brought back the gaming channel 7 months ago, and we know from the end of Dan’s bday live stream that they didn’t start working on this project until they realized how many people still liked their content: “We were so shocked about how much people care about this light entertainment, sat-in-this-chair-ass content. [...] It took us by such surprise, and now we’re like, where is this going. [...] It was supposed to be a ‘let’s just do this for a bit and see what happens.’ [...] So now we find ourselves going, well okay, this channel, this content, the people, the future of it. What else are we gonna do? 'Cause it seems like there's a thing here.” 

So it’s up to you to decide when they realized that, but I think it was probably sometime in November at the absolute earliest, and then they still needed time after that to decide what they’re going to do, and then actually plan it. (And honestly, I doubt they started actively planning anything in December during gamingmas, but you never know!! Also like I said in my original post about this, Dan was still doing WAD stuff up until February and then some book promo stuff after that, so he was busy with that as well.)

So, that’s all to say, I really don’t think they’ve had time to plan an entire tour. At the very least, not a world tour, but I don’t know if they’d announce a UK-only leg and plan the worldwide tour later based on what they said about choosing to plan II all at once, rather than the split up way they did with TATINOF (also keep in mind that Dan announced WAD all at once, like d&p did with II). Idk I just don’t think they’d announce a tour without having it all planned!

Okay, so, besides the random hints that they’re busy planning something, we also have Phil’s comment about saving money in his Cactus Club post. He wrote “I also just wanted to make your cactus a lil more affordable as Dan and I get busy on what is …. next… ??” Now while this seems to imply saving up for something (hence why the membership needs to be affordable), he doesn’t outright say that. Then in his Q&A vid, he answers a question about what he’s cooking that specifically asks, “Should I save my money?” And interestingly, Phil doesn’t address the money part of the question. Now maybe he just couldn’t say anything about saving money, maybe it would've been too on-the-nose. But I’m also sure plenty of other people asked that question without asking about saving, which means he chose to specifically ignore that part. To me, it seems kinda weird to outright exclude that if the project is something people will have to pay a lot of money upfront for (i.e. tour tickets), but again that’s just my opinion.

(Also just a secondary note on Phil’s answer—he actually says, “Look, I can neither confirm nor deny something might happen in the next month.” I find the phrasing he chose really interesting. He didn’t say an announcement was coming, he said something was going to happen. Dan also never explicitly said to look forward to an “announcement,” he just said they’ve been cooking and to give it a couple of weeks. Obviously this could all mean nothing and maybe it is an announcement (whether it be for a tour or something else), but I actually think whatever the project is might be getting released not just announced. But idk!)

A moment of me speculating based on vibes (that also negates the note I just made about this potentially being a release rather than an announcement): part of me thinks this project might be something/similar to something they tried to get off the ground before but then never came to fruition! This gifset by @reunitedinterlude got me thinking about projects that they didn’t get to do for various reasons (namely COVID lol). I think one of these (either one of Phil’s ideas that he’s now brought Dan onto, or something they were trying to do together from the get go) would actually make a lot of sense for what’s getting announced. It would be something that they had already started work on, so it doesn’t take as much planning as something brand new, meaning it could be announced sooner. Additionally, I just feel like they’ve been so vague about what’s coming up, but they’ve also been super excited! They seem really proud about whatever they’ve been cooking. While I obviously think they’d be excited to do another world tour, part of me just feels like they might be this excited because it’s something new that they’ve never done before. Also, if it’s some kind of game show type thing, it would make sense that Dan said the project is a “celebration” of the gaming channel. But again this is just based on vibes lol.

In conclusion, I do think we’ll get a third Dan and Phil tour, I just don’t think it’s what’s getting announced(/released?) in the coming weeks. But I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s the next thing they announce after whatever this upcoming thing is! If you think I’m dead wrong and actually other people have planned world tours in <6 months please let me know, I’m happy to be proven wrong bc I would love another tour :)

[rayshippouuchiha]

The Lone Wolf Dies

End-Class Princess: the Other Assassin

In which Takeshi looses the plot, Kurokawa Hana ends up dragging him along with it anyway, and a dog starts to revert to a wolf.

—

The first day of middle school, Takeshi hears some classmates sniggering about a prank they played on Sawada-Chan. They seem so pleased with themselves, at the reaction that Hibari-Senpai will have when she makes it to school tomorrow. Takeshi frowns slightly. Sawada-Chan is nice. She didn’t deserve that. He resolved to try and be extra nice to her when she came back.

—

Takeshi is restless. Sawada-Chan hasn’t been at school all week. They’d had a test already, and everyone had laughed about his low scores, saying that at least he had baseball. It stung worse than usual, turning his head slightly and not seeing a distressed pair of brown eyes and wringing hands. He hadn’t realized that he kept an eye out for her, or noticed that she worried about his grades. It’s been a week, surely she’s not sick? Hibari-Senpai has been rougher than usual too.

—

It’s a month into the new school year, and it feels like he’s the only one who’s noticed that Sawada-Chan hasn’t shown up. Everyone else seems to be forgetting about her altogether, except Kurokawa-San. She occasionally glances at a particular empty desk and frowns.

—

Takeshi squints his eyes shut to hide his irritation, flashing a toothy grin. To be honest, it feels more like he’s baring his teeth. The baseball team is getting on his nerves. Before, he’d been able to work it out on the diamond, the sheer physicality and camaraderie of the team pulling together soothing him. But as the weeks drag on, it works less and less. The team favors him as a star player, but they seem to be pulling less of their own weight.

He tells himself he’s just being overly sensitive. This year has just been unusually stressful. Once he adjusts to middle school, it’ll get better.

(He glances at an empty desk, than away. He accidentally locks eyes with Kurokawa-San doing the same. Maybe he should see if she wants to talk.)

—-

Kurokawa-San seems to be the only other person who’s noticed that Sawada-Chan hasn’t been to school once. Even Sasagawa-Chan just brushes it off with a vague, “who? Oh, Dame-Tsuna! Do you think she had to go to another school for extra tutoring?” She’s nice about it, at least.

Kurokawa-San is surprised when he points out no one has seen her in town either.

“I didn’t think you paid her that much attention,” she stated. “Huh. I suppose even a monkey like you can tell what would happen if you asked her out.”

It’s not that. It’s just. He didn’t realize how much the glimpses of her had settled him down before. Right now it just feels someone is rubbing sandpaper on the inside of his skin. It’s not an unfamiliar feeling, it always happens over the summer. Usually it goes away when school starts up and he can play baseball. But baseball isn’t working like it usually does. Sawada-chan’s mysterious disappearance gives him something to focus on so he doesn’t use his bat like a shinai and makes the second string players run faster.

His dad would be upset if he did that.

—-

Takeshi realizes intellectually that he should be proud to be playing an away game in his first year of middle school, even with his less than stellar grades. He’s more distracted by imaging all the ways he could really hurt people. Kurokawa is helping, a little, ever since she noticed his struggle to keep his smile up.

“Stop pushing yourself around me, like some sort of stupid monkey,” she said bluntly. “I know you’re a wolf, try not to go rabid.”

He’s pretty sure people are starting to think they’re dating, the way he seeks her out. She mostly doesn’t care, and uses it as an excuse to get away with physically grounding him. The desperate rasping inside him is growing worse.

If this keeps up, they’re both worried he’s going to kill someone. And not even Hibari-senpai is paying enough attention to notice.

(She would have.)

—-

Takeshi whips his head around as they’re escorted to the sports field. Had that been, Sawada-Chan? What would she be doing here?

—

After the game, the coach lets them wander around the market a bit, as a reward for winning. Takeshi takes him up on it, managing to shed the usual hangers-on that he has after a game. The sandpaper and chisels that have been steadily working away inside his skin are joined by anxious jangling bells. He can’t figure out what’s wrong with him.

“Yamamoto-kun?” A familiar voice rings out, puzzled.

He turns and the bells go silent, the chisels drop away from his bones, and the sandpaper pauses. Sawada-Chan is staring at him, pale amber eyes meeting his properly for once, a cloth bag slung over her shoulder. Takeshi beams at her. Oh. So this is why Kurokawa called him a wolf.

“Sawada-Chan! How have you been? Kurokawa and I have missed you,” he comes up to talk to her without hesitation. He’s almost dizzy as whatever has been clawing at him finally quiets down.

—

Eventually, he manages to convince her invite him back her place. She leads him to an apartment, tossing him concerned looks from the corner of her eye. Takeshi feels something in him preen in pleasure. He’d never noticed her do that before, but the feeling is very familiar. She has worried about him, and not because of his baseball skills.

She looks good, her shoulders held back and her gaze steady. He had never noticed her eyes were so light before, almost the same shade as fossilized amber. She’d always had her head down before. Takeshi likes it.

“I texted Rika-Chan, she said it was alright to lend you her slippers,” Sawada-Chan pulled out a pair of guest shoes for him.

They were still a little stiff, but he was too distracted by how many pairs of shoes were tidily tucked into the shelves of cubbies by the door. While she’d been gone, she’d become close enough to a lot of people, close enough to have guest slippers. He ruthlessly suppressed the urge to mess them up. What if she got mad at him and threw him out? He wasn’t ready to face the noise yet.

—

Her apartment was small, but cozy. There was a beat up old kotatsu where she was putting some tea for him, and a faded couch. There were little touches everywhere that called to mind comfort. (He liked the amateur ink painting of a puppy of some kind, tripping over its paws chasing a ball.) Takeshi was seized by the desire to roll around the whole place and never leave. A plate of dumplings, lopsided and mismatched, found themselves next to the tea.

—

Eventually, he has to go, but he managed to spend several hours talking to Sawada-Chan. She’s bolder than she used to be, but still doesn’t say much. Takeshi is pleased with himself when he manages to get her to forget to be wary and snark back at him. She even let him take a nap on her couch while she did homework leaning against it.

No wonder she’s in Kunugigaoka now. He doesn’t even know where to start, and she’s flying through the worksheets.

—-

There’s a slim hand nudging his shoulder. It’s not Kurokawa, and it’s not his otusan. His hand snaps up, snake quick, to latch onto the wrist. He misses. It’s so unusual, that he actually pauses before remembering where he was.

“Oh, sorry, Sawada-Chan!” He grins desperately. “I didn’t recognize you!” Please don’t send him away. He doesn’t want to have her shrink away from him again. He doesn’t know what he’d do if she flinched from him. Kurokawa is getting better at genuinely not flinching, even when she gets cut by the edges he can’t hide anymore.

“It’s fine,” he almost collapses as she waves it off. “But the buses are going to stop running for the night, your otousan has already called you.”

—

He gets her number before he lets himself be ushered out the door, nearly running into her neighbor who eyes him suspiciously. Not even Takeshi’s best sheepish grin erases the unfriendly look in the man’s eyes. It, probably didn’t help that he was disheveled, and still smelled a bit sweaty from the baseball game earlier. It didn’t look good, a teenage boy walking out of girl’s apartment looking like that.

Takeshi avoided his gaze and hurried to the bus depot. His otousan had been pleased that the reason he’d gone missing was running into a friend and loosing track of time, and not something, else. But he’s heard the warning to make it back tonight, and so had Sawada-Chan. She’d all but thrown him out the door, tugging on a worn pair of running shoes to lead him to the bus depot in time to catch the last bus to Namimori.

As the bus tumbled into the night, he wonders when he can make time to come back again, and how many times it will take before his shoes have a space in her entrance.

[silvervioletvalentine]

🖤it’s been a long time coming but…🖤

Pairing: Quinn Hughes X Cherrie!

Word count : 10k

Summary : in which his roommates sister is staying for the summer. And he promises not to fall in love with her.

Or- Quinn hates being told what to do. And cherries a mean little bitch with the face of an Angel. How was he supposed to not fall in love with her?

Warnings- fluff? There both little bullies to each other cause they’re in love. Duh. Kind of a , he fell first thing. She’s blunt and mean. He’s also dishes it back. Her brother is dumb and wondering what the f is going on. Thats it I think. I don’t even know if it’s any good or makes any sense cause I wrote it at 3am last night soooo…yeah. Lemme know what u think xoxo oh yeah and Quinn’s a swiftie because I said so. I finally got my era( with blood sweat and so many fucking tears) tickets so expect a lot of Taylor song themed oneshots lmfao.

Quinn knew that something was wrong the moment he woke up that morning to find his roommate and close friend , Roman, pacing the front room with his hand running stressfully through his hair , what looked to be a permanent grimace on his face as he stared down at his phone , free hand texting a Mile per minute away.

He eyed him warily as he grabbed himself a bowl and poured some cereal, plopping himself down at the breakfast table to eat .

He yawned "you good?" He mumbled around a spoonful of cereal, barely even awake and kind of wishing that he had just stayed in bed.

It wasn't like he had anything better to do anyway , and really looking at the darkened shade of his eye bags in his spoon, he could really do with some more sleep anyways.

Roman paused , looked down at his phone, looked over at Quinn and then sighed loudly . "No. My sister is coming stay for the summer." He told him, not exactly looking very happy about the fact either.

Quinn rose a brow in confusion , this being the first time he was being told of such plans . Fighting back a groan of misery at the thought of their apartment being invaded by somebody else when all Quinn really wanted was to relax in peace , not invite more people into his man cave.

"Sister?" He repeated barely remembering Roman mentioning his family at all to him "i don't recall ever meeting her." He muttered, wishing that he didn't have to at all.

He wasn't the most sociable of people, he had his small group of friends and quite frankly he just couldn't handle anymore. He was at his limit with people in his life , he didn't want to add anymore onto that small number . He had enough Christmas cards to write out each year as it was.

Roman scoffed , looking a little peeved as he let him know sourly "of course you haven't. She's been living in Milan . Then before that L.A...then Madrid. My little sister can barely be caught...I haven't seen her since last Christmas ." He did Honestly sound upset about it, she was still his baby sister after all.

"And the only reason she was there at all , is because of my mother threatening to axe the credit cards. And even then..she was gone the next day. The little asshole didn't even say goodbye!" He huffed, having been trying to wrangle her for a while now. But every text he sent was put on seen and every call they had usually ended up with them arguing and refusing to speak to the other for months again.

Quinn just frowned , trying not to fall back to sleep face first in cereal.

“So why is she coming here then? Doesn't exactly sound like she wants to be around you at the moment." He snorted a little , amused.

The thought of social , bubbly Roman trying to befriend his moody little sister and getting told to get fucked was hilarious . I mean, he loved his friend but sometimes his 'a friend to all' attitude was a little too much for him, it would be amusing to see him getting humbled like that.

It seemed like Roman wasn't the boss between them at all. How interesting.

Roman laughed "oh she's not coming cause she wants to. She's coming because our mother is making her." He told him with a small smirk , recalling the call from his furious mother letting him know that she would be heading his way soon and that he better make sure that she doesn't wildcard her way out of this again.

"She got involved with mother's hairdressers , husband and well.." he whistled long and hard, amused by the growing list of his sisters fuck ups.

She didn't ever do anything by halves , he would tell you that. "Mother's hairdresser found out and it all blew up. So the family's not too happy with Cherrie right now.." he chuckled.

Quinn looked at him in disbelief , fighting back the grin that wanted to escape, not sure if this was something that he was allowed to laugh about.

"Cherrie? That's her name?" He repeated testing it out on his tongue once Roman nodded his head yes , he then hummed a little "sounds like trouble. You couldn't put her up in a hotel?" He blurted out.

Roman looked at him with a look of shock "Quinn! That’s my sister! Just because she's a bit of a wild child doesn't mean that I'm gonna send her off on her own! God!" He exclaimed , dramatically throwing his hands on his air.

Quinn just rolled his eyes and focused back on his cereal , sighing in misery.

Great. He was going to have a female Roman hanging around , As though one of them wasn't already energy draining enough.

"What does she do?" He asked Him curiously "-besides sleeping with other women’s husbands." He couldn't help himself. Really he couldn't.

Roman glared at him for that comment, Quinn just laughing beneath his breath as he grinned down at his bowl. More than amused with it all.

"She's a model. That's why she travels around." He told him , bringing up his phone and picking a photo of his sister from one of her recent shoots to show him.

Quinn looked up from his bowl , down to his friends phone, then back to his bowl before doing a double take .

His eyes widening in disbelief as he choked on his cereal, spluttering loudly as his face flushed red.

"That's your fucking sister?" He croaked out between his coughs , banging on his chest with his fist , unable to take his eyes away from the phone. Breathing deeply as he tried to fucking breath normally again.

Unable to believe what he was looking at.

He knew her.

Well. He didn't know her personally but he had seen enough of her pretty face on almost every magazine and billboard to know who she was.

She was fucking stunning. Like out of this world , how could it not be plastic surgery , it's so not fair, she must be a siren..it should be illegal to be that hot , kind of beauty.

He looked at the picture of her on vogue Italy , face bare for the stripped down , el natural shoot. Dressed in just a cut up white shirt , shiny hair hanging over her tanned shoulders as she looked straight at the camera with a soft, pouty look on her sun kissed face. Freckles dotted her nose, and if he looked close enough there was a heart shape mole just right beneath her right eye.

Quinn found it hard to breath. Clearing his throat a little as he tried to mask his awe into something more nonchalant instead.

But he glanced back up at his friend to see his act wasn't fooling him at all.

Roman pocketed his phone with a slight frown, eyeing him suspiciously . "Yeah? What's that supposed to mean? Of course she's my sister , where did you think she got her good looks from?" He motioned towards himself with a arrogant grin.

Quinn laughed, harder than he should have giving the offended look he received in return.

"Definitely not you man." He snickered , still slightly in shock over just who his sister was and just what she looked like.

“I just-she doesn't look like the terror you're describing her as." He muttered , getting up off his chair to put his now empty bowl in the sink. More for self distraction than anything.

Roman groaned , shaking his head at him. "That's exactly the problem! She looks like some angel but she's the devil in disguise. Like that Taylor swift song." He started humming the tune of it to him "Darling I’m a nightmare dressed like a -"

Quinn's groan cut him off "yes! I get it! She's the devil. Hot but insane . Okay. I got it." He rushed out not wanting to hear anymore of his terrible singing and butchering of Taylor's songs. It was far too early for it and there was no amount of coffee in the world that could make him sit through the torture of Roman singing at him.

Roman looked offended for a moment "hey!" Then he paused and squinted his eyes at him "did you just call my sister hot?" The disbelief was apparent in his voice . Enough to make Quinn freeze.

He slowly turned to look at his friend, mouth opening and closing several times before "no. I didn't." He denied. Laughing it off. Because he knew what a big deal he would make out of it.

Just like now. Roman laughed loudly "yes you did! You said she's hot but crazy!" He exclaimed.

"No! You did! I was just .. just summing it up!" Quinn argued.

Okay. Just because he wasn't a fucking player and almost permanent single didn't mean he didn’t recognise real beauty when he saw it.

Roman sofffed "bullshit. You think my sisters hot! I can't believe this! Maybe the hotel idea was a good one.." he bemoaned .

Not wanting his sister to sink her claws into his poor friend, he liked Quinn and he didn't want to add the hockey player to the long list of men that Cherrie had broken into pieces for her own entertainment . No thank you.

Quinn once again rolled his eyes at him, annoyed. "Dude. The whole world thinks your sister is hot, it's not news to you. And I'm not fucking blind." He snapped at him shoving past him to throw himself on the couch, hoping for a nap. "It's doesn't mean anything.” He added .

Roman with his Hands on hips just looked at him lazing out on the couch, a bored look on his face as he put on modern family for some background noise. Looking like he was done with the entire conversation.

"So you won’t fall in love with my sister then?" He challenged him. Knowing exactly what she did to men. She was his sister after all and he had the exact same affect on woman. Accidental heartbreakers If you will.

Quinn couldn't have snorted any louder If he tried, he even laughed. "No fucking way! Me?" He scoffed in amusement "falling in love? I don't fucking think so. You should be a comedian man." He said.

Roman just shot him a look, not believing him at all. Because if that was his reaction to just a photo of Cherrie, how was he going to feel when she arrived , prettier in person and staying with them for the whole summer?

He crossed his fingers and hoped that his sister would have some mercy at least. Or to at least pick a different Brother.

By the time that Cherrie arrived at her brother place, she was already getting a lecture from Roman as they walked up the stairs to his apartment . Rolling her eyes as he went on and on , sounding a bit too much like their mother for comfort .

"I'm serious Cherrie. I don't want any drama this time.. the last time you hung out with my friends it ended up in tears!" Roman exclaimed, still having ptsd from that horrible weekend .

Cherrie just groaned at Him, waiting impatiently by the out of service Elevator as she watched her brother haul up her two massive, bright pink suitcases up the stairs. With a large juicy couture rucksack on his back too , she only had her small purse with her phone and money in it on her arm.

Choosing to play with her freshly done nails as she replied amusedly "I didn't shed a single tear."

Roman glared over at her, face sweaty as he huffed and puffed his way to the top. Almost tripping over her ridiculously large suitcase as he did so.

"I wasn't talking about you. I was talking about the guys. I could have become a swimmer with the fucking ocean of tears you made them cry! I don't want any of that shit this time!" He warned her seriously "I mean it."

Bored, tired and grumpy from her flight. Cherrie just sighed and flicked her hair over her shoulder in annoyance.

"Okay. So no hooking up-"

"No!" Roman looked horrified just at the thought "you can do whatever you want on your own time but not with any of my friends. They’re hockey players-" maybe not the best thing to tell her seeing as she loved sporty guys.

She paused at his door, looking over her shoulder at him quietly for a moment before "hockey players?" She hummed out with a small smirk , already picturing them in their jerseys , all strong and talented on the ice.

But the glare her brother shot her shut her up real quick.

"Don't even think about it. They’re good guys Cherrie, and my roommate Quinn . He's really nice but likes his life drama free okay?" He told her as he unlocked the door.

Cherrie scoffed amusedly "he's gonna hate me then. Surprised he likes you at all. You're worse than I am." She tried to rile him up.

It worked.

By the time he had dragged her suitcase into the hallway, the siblings were bickering loudly and shoving at each other like little kids.

"You're such a fucking bore! You can't even take a joke-"

"Oh excuse me if I don't find fucking other people's husbands on a dare funny-"

Her voice went shrill , effectively waking Quinn up from his nap on the couch. But neither of the siblings noticed him yet.

"That was one time! Shut up! Like you haven't had your fair share of fun-"

He blinked his eyes open, yawning as he slowly pulled his body up into a sitting position. Turning his head to look at the noise, he rose a brow in both concern and amusement as he watched her kick at her brothers shin like a child. Roman kicking her right back.

Taking in the sight of the model, Quinn bit down on his bottom lip without even realising it.

Swallowing a little as he looked at her, all tan and worked up, dressed in tiny shorts and a crop top that barely covered a thing. Gucci flip flops that went flying across the room as she threw them at her brother, cursing him out in Spanish now.

She looked way hotter in real life than she did on the magazines. He wasn't sure how it was possible, but she did.

He ran a hand through his hair, managed to straighten out his old sweatshirt just as she turned her head to finally see him sitting there.

Then silence.

Cherrie looked at him, he looked at her. Roman held his breath.

Then she frowned at Quinn , looking unimpressed.

"I thought hockey players were supposed to be sexy." She complained .

Looking him over as she made her way to the couch, distracted from her bickering with her brother. She has a new target to annoy now.

Her brother sighed long and hard "be nice." He snapped at her as he started dragging her suitcases to her room, leaving them alone for a minute .

Offended and a little stung, Quinn eyed her up and down just as judgmentally . "I didn't know models looked like hookers these days either ."He threw back at her just as quick.

There was a shocked pause, having not expected him to dish it back out to her before she laughed, eyes lighting up as she got herself cozy on the tub chair. Eyes never leaving him. Taking in his flushed cheeks, scabbed nose from the last injury , hair a overgrown mess behind his ears , dressed in a huge black sweatshirt and basketball shorts.

He was not her usual type at all.

Yet something buzzed in her chest, a strange excitement building in her as she thought of all the ways she could get underneath his skin and make him react. Annoying guys was her favourite thing to do after all.

"Honey. You couldn't even afford this hooker." She replied smoothly , crossing her long, tanned legs over each other . Smirking to herself as she watched his eyes briefly flicker down to them before they quickly looked away.

Clearing his thirst, he muttered blandly "I'm glad i could save my money. I've been told I need to stop spending money on stupid things anyway."

Cherrie inhaled sharply at the jab, having a feeling that he had been fully filled in on all of her stupid activities as of lately. Her brother Had always been a snitch after all.

"That's ironic coming from a hockey player." She muttered as she got up to get something to eat , stomach rumbling after hours on a plane without any food. There was no way in hell she would eat anything on a plane or god forbid... airport food.

But as she opened the fridge and saw nothing but beers and leftover pizza, she realised with horror then that she was going to be living with guy. Stupid guys who didn't know a healthy salad or a fucking fruit if they saw one.

How was she supposed to survive? She had gone from five star luxury to... she glanced around the messy apartment with barely any decor . The biggest thing in there was the pool table and tv, not even a fucking clock on the wall!

She felt a little like crying then. Maybe because she was tired. Hungry and had spent the last weekend being scolded by her mother like she was a naughty child again. Her exploitation's gossip for everyone to hear.

So excuse her if she was feeling a little on edge, having at least expected her brother to have gone out shopping before she arrived . He knew that she was picky.

Was this...was this revenge for telling him that those stupid white pants he wore made him look like a Walmart version of a member of backstreet boys ?

"Where's the food?" She cut Quinn off befor he could dish a returned insult for her stupid hockey player comment. Making him frown over at her .

"There's pizza from last night left in there." He informed her like that was helpful.

Raising a brow as he heard her let out a little sound, between a squeak and a huff.

His lips twitched. "Not good enough for you princess?" He said.

She looked straight at him, face cold and replied bluntly "not it isn't. So unless you want me to make sure that you lose all your teeth , without a puck or a stick being Involved . I suggest you and my brother head to the nearest store and get some real fucking food in. Before I kill the both of you !" She hissed at him .

Then she picked up a throw pillow, launched it at his head before stomping away to her room. Pushing past her confused brother on the way, slamming the door behind her with a angry bang.

There was a tense silence in the room for a moment where both men just looked at where she had been stood, Roman slowly looking away from her slammed door , blinking at Quinn curiously.

"I think we should go get some grocoises." Was all Quinn muttered. Clearing his throat as he hauled his ass up from the couch, stuffed his wallet in his pocket and headed straight for the door.

Roman following behind him in confusion "we've got left over pizza-"

Quinn pulled a face , yanking the door open with a long exhale . Her furious, very hungry face imprinting in his mind as he hurried her brother along.

"Yeah. No man. I mean real food." He said.

Roman didn't look any less confused . But the look on Quinn's face made him not question it again.

Two hours later. The fridge , freezer and cupboards were full with real, fresh food.

Cherrie came back out again. Smile lighting up her pretty face as she pulled out some chicken and made herself a salad while the guys scoffed on a takeaway on the couch.

She didn't thank him verbally but she slapped the top of Quinn's head on the way back to her room , he took that for something instead.

Later that night, Cherrie dragged herself back out of her room with the blanket wrapped around her head, a scowl on her tired face as the voices got louder and louder.

Hearing her brother and Quinn laugh loudly, the sound of video games filling the room as she stomped in there to get them to stop.

Quinn was the first to notice her hovering by the couch like a grumpy gremlin, raising his brow at her as he played with the controller in his hand, her brother paying her no mind at all. She could hear another guys voice on the tv , playing along with them but she ignored it in favor of glaring at the both of them angrily.

"It's nearly one o'clock in in the morning." She snapped at them. Looking at Quinn like he was the devil.

He just snorted "glad you know how to tell the time." He muttered , smirking as he clicked away at the buttons. One eye on the tv and the other one subtly watching the way she stomped her food like a child, making it harder for him to hold back his grin at seeing how easy she was to rile up.

"Roman!" She complained . Getting his attention finally.

Her brother looked over at her with a Frown "what? Why aren't you asleep? You've had a long flight. I thought you'd be out already." He said obviously .

Cherrie looked at him like he was an a idiot . He was. But still. "Are you fucking serious? How can I sleep when it sounds like a fucking a bar in here? Turn that shit down!"

"Yeah. Grandma here wants an early night." Quinn muttered . Grinning. Sipping on his beer , content with pissing her off even more.

The look she shot him would have had any other guy Pissing his pants with fear . But Quinn just grinned up at her , enjoying it far too much.

"Would you prefer to be smothered by a pillow or drowned in the bath?" She simply responded to him while picking up a pillow from the couch as she approached him quickly .

He looked down at the pillow then back up at her in amusement . "Both sound a little too intimate princess. We've only known each other for a couple of hour-" his teasing got cut off by his own startled gasp as she suddenly launched herself at him.

Pillow pressed against his face as he let out a shocked laugh, grabbing ahold of her arms to stop her from actually killing him. While she huffed and puffed, slapping him with the pillow instead when she failed to smother him with it.

Ignoring her brother scolding her , she hit Quinn with the pillow again. "Asshole! Trust me , no one wants to be intimate like that with you! Fucking-ah!" She squealed as she was suddenly pulled off Quinn , Roman carrying her over to her room over his shoulder while she kicked and cursed him out.

Quinn just laughed as he pushed himself back up to his sitting position , pushing his hair out of his face as he caught back his breath. Grinning widely as he wiggled his fingers at her glare .

"Well. Everyone's been intimate with you . Have you met the landlords husband yet?" He called over the couch. Roman shaking his head at him scornfully.

"Not helping Quinn!"

He just laughed. Hard. Before hearing his brothers voice coming through the system, confused to why they had suddenly paused the game.

"Is that Romans sister?" Jack asked him curiously , amusement on his face as they listened to her cursing like a sailor at him.

He tried not to grin "yeah. She's crazy."

"Can I meet her?" His sly question had the grin dropping right off his face.

"Why?" He simply responded. Suspicious.

Jack shrugged slyly "she's hot. And sounds like fun. I bet Trevor would like her.."

Quinn cut him off before he could say anything else, his amusement quickly fading away just like that.

Instead he scoffed and snapped "she's not fun. Now shut up and let's play the game." Despite that, he turned down the volume anyway. She needed her sleep after all.

For the next few days, Cherrie and Quinn tried to stay out of each other's way. Well. More like Quinn stayed out of her way while Jack and Trevor took over and became her new best friends despite Quinn telling them to fuck off mulitple times.

Neither of them listened and he was more than peeved to see them greeted with a sweet smile and hang out invitations from her right off the bat.

While all Quinn got was multiple 'get fucked you fucking fuck.' And his favourite 'get out of my way before you become my new doormat.'

She was getting wildly creative with her insults, and each one she snapped made it harder for him to control his laughter. Not wanting her to know just how much their bickering amused him.

It was Friday night, and Quinn was holed up in his room listening to some music. Sick and tired of seeing his brother and Trevor laughing and having fun with Cherrie all day, the three off them having went to the beach and come home and spent hours playing video games and just hanging out.

Jack had tried to get him to join in but one look at Cherrie, sun kissed with wet hair and sunburn on her pretty face had him declining so quickly that even Cherrie looked at him funny.

But then it started getting dark and he was brought out his thoughts by Cherrie casually walking into his bedroom like it was her own. Kicking the door shut with her foot as she balanced several dresses over her arms.

Ignoring his shocked look, she held up a white silk dress to her body

"This looks good on me , no?" Looking at him Impatiently for an answer. Hair blow dried, still dressed in a small dressing gown after the quick shower she had taken. Not bothered at all.

Quinn swallowed. Eyes flickering down to her bare legs before looking down to his bedcovers . "Er-I don't know." He mumbled "I'm not the one for fashion advise. Try Jack." He bitterly added.

Cherrie just scoffed "I did. He's no help. He thinks I look hot in everything. I need honesty. Brutal. Okay?" She instructed him.

Quinn barely had a chance to breath before she suddenly dropped her silk dressing gown onto the floor. Giving him the sight of her stood there, in front of his bed , dressed in a matching pale pink lace set before she was pulling the dress over her head.

"Fucks sake Cherrie!" He hissed at her , wide eyed and flushed red.

Unable to look away from her as he watched her smooth the silk over her body, turning to look in his mirror. Twisting side to side, only to give him an even better view of her ass in the figure hugging dress.

She ignored his shock and simply frowned at her reflection. "Is this see through at the back?" She asked him. Turning her ass to him fully, not warnting to go out in a dress like that.

Quinn gulped, hesitated . Eyes flickering to her face to make sure that she was serious , then he trailed his gaze down to her ass and hummed a little .

Breathing a little shakily as he mumbled "yeah. I can -I can see the thong. And can see right through." He let her know. Not knowing where to look.

Cherrie decided that for him. He choked on his breath again as she huffed and whipped the dress over her head, grabbing another one this time as she talked casually to him while she put it on

"It's so annoying. I like this one but it has a slit..too high or no?" She smoothed the red velvet dress over her body, then put her leg up on the bed so he could see the slit that ran up her thigh to her hip bone when she moved.

Quinn felt a little faint .

Taking deep breaths , mouth running dry as he looked at her tanned leg , oiled up with moisturiser in front of him. He felt his heart beat in his head. That couldn't be good, could it?

"You look-" incredibly sexy. He didn't say "that's not the one." He didn’t want her wandering out anywhere in that dress. Selfish reasons, he knew. But he wouldn't ever admit it.

Cherrie nodded like she agreed "I was a little worried. I don't want my pussy out in the night ya know? It's an easy access desss but.." she trailed off with a shrug.

Forgetting just who she was talking to for a moment. Instead she treated him like one of her girlfriends whenever they got ready for nights out together.

“I think this might be the one." She said slyly as she pulled on a simple , little black dress. Tight and hugging with lace holding up her chest, making her tits seem even bigger than they were. It hugged her like second skin, the back low, so she unhooked her bra and pulled it off easily.

She then threw her bra at Quinn who caught it with a heavy blink, brain slugging as he looked down at the lace in his hands then back up at Cherrie again. Wondering dazedly if he was dreaming.

"Yeah.." was all he could mumble out. "I guess that ones okay." He said. Speechless.

Rolling her eyes, she laughed. Having already had a few too many glasses with Trevor when he had decided that they needed a night out .

"This will get me free booze all night baby!" She cheered at her reflection. Fixing her hair and letting out a pleased hum at what she saw.

“Are you coming?" She then asked Quinn , turning to look at him after she was done.

Sitting down on the end of his bed to put on her sparkling heels, she looked up at him Impatiently when he didn't answer.

He shut his gaping mouth and exhaled "where are you going?"

"The bar. With Trevor and my brother. We're gonna meet some more of their friends There. Jacks not going though , still hungover from yesterday." She told him in amusement. Having spent the night at the club with them last night too.

Quinn scoffed and shook his head "no way." A night in a stuffy bar watching his friends hit on her? And her flirt back? Sounded like a fucking nightmare.

Cherrie felt weirdly disappointed , but she tried not to let it show. Instead she let the disappointment turn to Annoyance , standing back up once her heels were on and scoffing down at him.

"Whatever , You're so boring!" She glared down at him, wondering why she even bothered inviting him at all. She didn't like him. What the hell was she doing?

Quinn scoffed too, sitting up to glare back at her. "Yeah well. We'll see how fun you are when you come back pregnant and regretting ever going!" He snapped back at her.

She huffed , picked up a random shirt from his floor and hauled it at his head.

“Fuck you! You asshole!" She shouted at him, yanking open the door, blood boiling . Regretting ever speaking to him willingly.

Jack paused in shock, plate in his hand with a sandwich halfway to his mouth , about to knock on Quinn's door to see if he wanted to play some video games. Only to blink in disbelief as the door swung open and Cherrie stormed out of his brothers room, face red and pissed off. Not even sparing him a glance.

"No! Fuck you!" Quinn yelled back. Then the slam of the front door rattled the apartment .

Leaving Jack to slowly enter his brothers doorway in shock, eyes blowing wide as he looked at Quinn's red cheeks and scowling face . A lace bra in his lap.

"Dude!" Jack couldn't believe it "what happened to being nice to ladies?" He had never heard Quinn speak like that to anyone, ever. Never mind a woman.

Quinn let out a strangled sound, cheeks on fire as he looked at where she had been stood, flustered.

"She is not a lady! She's a fucking siren or -she's a ! Fuck! - " he huffed, struggling for words. Barely able to look his brother in the eye as he shoved him out of his room. Wanting to be alone.

“-that's the kind of woman that if you look at her too long she snatches your fucking heart out and never gives it back!" He shouted , muttering curses before he then slammed the door in his face with a huff.

Leaving Jack to stare at the closed door for a minute in disbelief, then he snorted .

Then he grinned widely in amusement

"Oh no. He likes her." He realised. Chuckling to himself as he quickly ran to get his phone to tell their friends of the latest development.

By the time half past one in the morning rolled around and Cherrie was still not back yet, Quinn finally emerged from his room , trying to act

Nonchalant as he asked his brother about their whereabouts.

"Dunno." Jack just shrugged hiding his smirk behind his drink "she's out with Trevor . So she might not come back tonight at all." He couldn't help but add, just to rile him up. To see how he would react.

Quinn stood there with his hands on his hips, looking over at the front door as though she was going to suddenly burst through it.

Then he felt his heart sink deeper in his stomach as realised that his brother might just be right, the thought of her out there cuddling up with Trevor or worse, some Random asshole at the bar , made him restless on his feet for a reason he didn't want to admit.

"I can't sleep." He blurted out instead.

Hands In his joggers pockets as he tried to stop himself from fidgeting , eyes drifting over to the loveseat that she always curled on. Her blanket still there, he slowly walked over to the chair , unease growing.

What the hell was wrong with him? And why the hell did he even care about what she did?

He didn't.

He didnt. She could do whatever and whoever the fuck she wanted. He tried convincing himself but his hand snook out of his pocket and began fiddling with the edge of her blanket and he knew that he was fucked.

Jack peered over at him in amusement "obviously." He stated with a smirk, "tried shutting your eyes?"

I have. He wanted to snap back. But every time I do I see Cherrie in situations I would rather not see. Some horrifically including Trevor and now he felt sick.

Instead he muttered casually "I could go for a drink." Trying to act like it was no big deal.

Jack looked at him like he was insane "now? But you said you didn't want to go out tonight!" He exclaimed.

Wide eyes watching his older brother pick up his jacket and wallet , not bothered that he was dressed in sweatpants and a sweatshirt, hair a mess around his head.

He just grabbed a cap from the wall and placed it backwards on his head, shrugging at him casually.

"Well I've changed my mind. Let's go." He simply said.

Cherrie couldn't believe what she was seeing as she stood by the pool table watching the guys mess on, drunkenly placing bets on who would win.

She glanced over to the bar and had to do a double take as she saw the two brothers walking over to them , eyes going wide as she looked at Quinn , in full lazy sweats , giving her a small smirk.

She frowned "what the fuck?" Almost falling over as she gripped trevors arm, nudging him to look over at their new guests of the night.

He looked just as surprised, but welcomed them with a happy grin. "Dudes! Want a drink?!" Be passed them both a bottle of beer from the table .

Quinn slowly saddled up next to her , not even glancing at her as he watched the guys suck at playing pool. So close that their arms brushed.

Missing the looks that Trevor and Jack shot them as his brother muttered something to him in amusement, both friends shaking their heads at him in amusement .

Cherrie was still scowling at him , nudging his side a little too hard . Cocktail glass tight in her hand "what happened to not your scene?" She sarcastically said, yet there was no denying the pleased feeling rising beneath her skin at the sight of him.

He just shrugged, sipping on his beer before answering . "Couldn't sleep." He muttered the same excuse that he had to his Brother.

It didn't work on her either.

She just rolled her eyes at him playfully "no shit. You look like an asshole." She commented, smacking the backwards cap on top of his head. Liking the look on him. Not that she would tell him that.

He just chuckled , looking her over with a small smirk. "And you look like a drunk idiot. What perfume are you wearing? Vodka." He snarked back at her . Tugging at the ends of her long hair , grinning when she slapped his hand away with a glare.

Squinting her eyes up at him, she leaned into his side so he could hear her better over the loud music and chatter surrounding them. Both of them lost in their own world together . He leaned closer to her too, neither moving away.

"You wished you smelt and looked this good." She muttered while giggling , throwing the rest of her drink down in one go.

Then she passed him her Empty glass and said "buy me another one?"

He rose a brow at her in amusement "missing a word there princess." He replied. Nudging her along with him to the bar anyways.

Digging his free hand into his pocket for his wallet, hiding a smile as he felt her clutch onto the back of his sweatshirt to keep herself close as they pushed through the crowd.

"Now?" She guessed. Grinning up at him cheekily.

Quinn just rolled his eyes and ordered her drink "please." He muttered passing his card over, ordering one for him later as well.

She snorted "please what hockey boy?" Before he could bicker back with her , he stilled when she suddenly let out a loud gasp , head snapping over to makeshift dance floor.

"Oh my god!" She exclaimed happily as she started to loudly sing along to the song blaring around them

"Romeo save me I’ve been feeling so alone! I've been waiting for you but you never come- is this in my head I don't know what to think-" she tugged at his hands as she danced around him happily .

Only stopping short when his voice lowly joined in "-he knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring-" he sang quietly grinning at the look of shock on her pretty face as she gaped up at him .

Heart fluttering in her chest, she gripped onto his arms and beamed brightly "you’re a swiftie?" She breathed out in amazement .

He chuckled, nodding his head as he pulled her closer and twirled her around . Smiling a little as she giggled and fell against him "mmm. Of course. I'm not deaf." He muttered before looking at her beaming smile and scrunched up nose and sighed longingly

"not blind either." He added.

"It's a love story baby just sayyy.." she sang while holding out a pretend microphone to him as she lifted up her arm, making him twirl beneath it.

Both of them too busy laughing and dancing together to see the looks of shock and disbelief from their friends, Jack slowly lifting his phone up in shock to film them for evidence later. Unable to believe the sight in front of him. Gaping at the sight of Quinn twirling around with her while singing Taylor fucking swift.

"Yes." Quinn muttered finishing the lyric as he chuckled, almost crashing into the stool behind him as she suddenly twirled him again. "Okay! Okay!" He laughed nodding over to their drinks at the bar "come on ."

She followed him easily, still singing as she clutched his hand without even relaxing it.

"Can we make a Taylor swift playlist to play on the ride back?" She looked up at him hopefully , too drunk and happy to realise that she was staring. She tugged off his Cap and placed it backwards on her own head,  making Quinn hide a smile behind his glass.

"Obviously."

Three o'clock in the morning and they stumbled back into the apartment , shoving at each other like little kids as they playfully  argued about which type of shoes were better.

"Boots make every outfit have a little bit of ..spice ya know?" She argued , a dr Martin lover through and through.

Quinn scoffed at her amusedly "yeah in 2010. You gonna wear your wide brim hat and moustache tshirt as well?" He teased . Tugging on her hair again like a child with a crush .

She rolled her eyes at him with a grin, laughing loudly "no! You wear slides like everywhere! You can’t speak!" She countered back. Cheeks flushed from the alcohol and just having fun with him.

"Can too. No laces, no hassle. Just the way I like it." He said.

Letting her hold onto him as she pulled off her heels, grabbing onto her arm when she wobbled , giggling beneath her breath. "You should try it. Better than those weapons." He nodded at her poor ankles.

Straightening back up, she sighed dramatically "no. They make my legs look so good. I'll look like an idiot wearing a mini dress with slides ." She slurred as they stumbled down the hall to their rooms.

Quinn just shook his head with a small smile, hand hovering over her back in case she stumbled again, not wanting her to fall flat on her pretty face .

"No you won't. That's not possible." He muttered, yawning loudly . He ran his fingers through the ends of her hair again just because he could, in awe of how soft it felt between his fingertips .

Cherries eyes fluttering as she leant against her doorframe , yawning as well.

“Why not?" She struggled not to fall asleep right there and then. Enjoying his company so much, she kind of didn’t want him to leave her at all. Weird.

Quinn shrugged lazily , drunk and happy "cause it's you." He simply mumbled. Meaning it.

It wasn't possible for her to look bad, or stupid or like an idiot. She could wear a trash bag and she Would still look Beautiful .

She didn't say anything. Just bit down on her bottom lip . pushed away the giddy feeling in her chest and sighed dramatically .

Squeezing his bicep gently before finally letting go "night Quinn. Maybe you'll sleep and wake up as beautiful as me." She joked.

He chuckled, pushed her a little to get her through her door, unable to tear his eyes away from her toothy grin.

She was so fucking beautiful , it made it hard to breath.

"Get some sleep and maybe you'll wake up less of a bitch." He countered back , kicking his foot up to kick her gently in her ass.

Snickering a little when she shot him a playful glare over her shoulder , kicking him back in his ankle without missing a beat.

“Maybe you'll wake up and be Sidney Crosby." She shot back, both grinning despite their petty words.

Quinn shook his head in amusement , flicking her forehead with his fingers , before finally backing away towards his own bedroom before he did something as stupid as kiss her .

“Fuck you." He said instead.

She bit down on her bottom lip to hide her besotted grin "fuck you too."

They both went to sleep and dreamt of dancing together to Taylor swift underneath the stars , body as aligned as the planets above.

The next week passed by quick with Quinn sticking to cherries side, both of them insulting each and picking at each other like little kids. But despite their teasing, they never left each other's side for very long.

Quinn insisting that he come along to her shopping trips in case she picked something hideous , despite her being a model who dressed like one too.

Cherrie making up excuses to get him to come along with her to see movies, to the bar , to get her nails done and Quinn always sliding them his card before she could pay for herself . Resulting in them bickering until she finalllt gave in, insisting on buying him ice cream to make up for it.

Everybody knew what was going on, everybody but her brother Roman who got the surprise of his life as he watched his sister walk out of Quinn's bedroom with him casually, like it was no big deal.

Jack not even blinking an eye, simply lifting his hand to high five Cherrie as she passed him, eyes not leaving the tv. Used to the two of them constantly being attached to the hip now.

Quinn headed into the kitchen and picked out two water bottles, handing one to his sister without saying a word.

Running a hand through his hair, he mumbled "golfing?" To her quietly. Roman watching their interaction in disbelief . Wondering what the hell he had missed.

Cherrie hummed while typing on her phone, pulling herself up to sit on the counter beside him. Both doing their own thing but still in their own bubble together .

"I'm shit at it. I told you." She muttered back to him as she scoffed at a text her friend sent her, briefly lifting her phone in front of Quinn to show him the photo of her friends new boyfriend.

“That's the one I was telling you about." She said.

He glanced at the picture and muttered "looks like a finance bro." Smiling a little when she huffed out a laugh. Pride filming him that he could make her laugh like that.

"Looks like a dickhead you mean." She corrected, both of them snickering meanly between each other.

Then Quinn got back on to the golfing topic "I'll teach you. It's not serious. Just hitting some balls into some tight holes." He heard what he said a second too late. Immediately glancing over at her with narrowed eyes "don't even say it."

She laughed loudly , slapping his shoulder with a grin on her face. "It's too hard! I can't!"  She giggled.

Quinn groaned "don't. Don't make me say it."

She wiggled her brows "come on. You know you want to." She sang.

He sighed in defeat , fighting back ahinst a grin as he muttered "that's what she said." Ashamed of himself for giving in to her childishness , he shook his head amusedly .

Cherrie just ruffled his hair with her hand , oblivious to her gaping brother on the couch. Jack amusedly watching his reaction with a grin , used to it now.

He then picked up his jacket and picked up his car keys, heading over to the front door without even glancing back.

“There's a five star food bar there." He simply told her. Knowing it would do the trick.

Cherrie came running, shoving on her slides that Quinn had gotten her after all their bickering about his own . They had a matching pair now.

Quinn then grabbed his cap and placed it on her head, then wrapped her up in his jacket too.

"Tacos?"

"Tacos." He confirmed. Then they were gone.

Leaving her brother to Gape at the front door in disbelief. Mouth opening and closing Several times before he turned to look at Jack in shock

"She hates him?" He didn't sound so sure now. Confused to how his sister had went from cursing out Quinn to going golfing with him while wearing his jacket .

Jack smirked knowingly "does she?" He rose a brow at him waiting for him to catch up.

Roman blinked dumbly "she doesn't?"

Jack just laughed and laughed and laughed "think my brother lied to you man."

Roman thought back to the first day when he had told Quinn not to fall in love with her, how Quinn had scoffed and told him 'that was never going to happen.'

He groaned in disbelief . Jack laughed loudly . He really should have seen this coming.

Cherrie found herself sat at one of his games, wearing Quinn's jersey as she sat beside Jack, munching on popcorn as she watched the players come out . Eyes wide with excitement , having never seen a hockey game live before.

"So.." Jack looked at her with a grin as he eyed the jersey she was wearing with his brothers name on the back "hate him still?" He teased knowingly.

Cherrie just hummed with a serious resting bitch face "can't fucking stand him." She blandly replied.

Sticking up her middle finger at Quinn when he skated past where they were sitting, making him grin to himself in amusement before he focused back on his game.

His brother shook his head in amazement "is fuck you ..like your guys ‘okay’?" He wondered out loud. Having seen the both of them always swearing at each other with smiles on their faces. It was weird.

Cherrie just looked back at him in confusion "huh?"

He sighed loudly "it's a film- never mind. You two are weird." He stated in amusement, knowing he would never understand their dynamic . But his brother was happy, and that was all he cared about.

"do you like my brother Cherrie?” He decided to just go right ahead and ask her instead .

She looked at him, looked at Quinn then hid her grin behind her popcorn. "No. He sucks." She muttered.

Jack couldn't help himself "thought you were the sucker in your relationship." Earning himself a smack to his arm, he just giggled like a naughty child in return .

Rolling her eyes at him, she ignored the flush in her cheeks and replied quickly "their is no relationship. I don't like him. I don't care about him-." Obviously Lying through her teeth.

And Jack could only watch in absolute disbelief as Quinn got slammed against the boards by another player, watched the way Cherrie immediately jumped out of her seat in a rage.

"Fucking cunt!" She yelled loudly , scowling darkly as she watched him shove Quinn down again until he fell flat on his ass.

“Fucking get him Quinn! Break his legs!" She was a little too passionate.

Jack was tugging at the back of her jersey with a nervous laugh to get her to calm down as those surrounding them looking at them judgmentally.

Well. Looked at Cherrie banging on the glass telling his brother to pound the dickheads face in, getting creative with her ideas of revenge.

“ Cherrie! Shhh!" He giggled while Watching his brother shove the player back, snarling something at him.

He saw the other player respond and look their way, directly at Cherrie, knowing exactly who he was chirping about to get a rise of of his bier. He winced in sympathy for him .

The guy motioned towards Cherrie and smirked, muttering something to him. Then Quinn spat something back and threw off his gloves before slamming him to the floor, hitting him without any hesitation.

Cherrie yelled excitedly "woooh! That’s it baby!" Grinning widely as she watched the referee separate them.

Quinn still yelling shit at the other player. Then he looked towards them to see their reaction to his behaviour , saw Cherrie's proud smile and found his shoulders relaxing even as he skated towards the penalty box. Glad that she wasn’t pissed off or turned off by him fighting. Fighting back the twitch of his lips at how proud she looked as she gave him a thumbs up, eyes glittering.

As she finally retook her seat , there was a moment of amused silence between them as she fought back her breath from all her shouting .

Then finally "so. Don't care about him?" Jack repeated her words with a smug smirk on his face.

Cherrie just rolled her eyes with a easy Grin "shut up." Was all she could reply. 

Heart racing in her chest, unable to take her eyes off Quinn as she watched him pull off his helmet to wipe his face . Glaring angrily at the player still.

She then sighed in defeat.

Fucked. She was completely fucked.

Quinn rose a brow in surprise when he came out of the locker room to find Cherrie waiting for him , unable to stand still as she fidgeted with the sleeves of his jersey she was wearing.

Making him hide his grin behind his hand at the sight of her in his shirt , his number and name on her back. Feeling his heart race just at the sight of her there. Waiting for him.

God. It felt like a dream. Walking towards her and seeing her face light up for him.

She ran over to him as soon as she saw him coming , shaking her head with a loud exhale.

“That guy was a asshole!" She exclaimed . Shaking her head in amazement . Still filled with adrenaline from watching it all go down.

Quinn chuckled , grabbed her elbow and pulled her into his side as they passed some people to get down to a quieter corridor , leading towards the exit where his car was parked.

"Complete dick." He agreed easily before grinning as be recalled her yelling and her proud grin when he finally took him down. "You seemed to enjoy yourself." He said amused.

She tried to school her excitement but couldn't , instead she nudged him and grinned "I didn't know you had it in you."

Then she looked at him, really looked at him, wet hair from his quick shower , all rugged, roughened up and pretty.

Recalling the way he had slammed that guy to the ice, she blurted out before she could stop herself “that was really hot." Not regretting it either .

She wasn't the kind to back out. She was committed now, there was no turning back.

Quinn froze and tugged her to a stop , blinking down at her slowly as he wondered if he heard her right.

Inhaling deeply as he looked at her wide eyes and flushed cheeks , the way she couldn't take her eyes off him. Fingers squeezing his hip as she nudged him with a cheeky grin on her pretty face.

She meant it.

"Really?" He breathed out in shock "me?" He couldn't believe it. Even going as fair as pointing a finger at himself . Like there was anyone else around.

Cherrie just nodded her head, hooked her elbow through his and bit Down on her bottom lip till it hurt.

“Yeah. Kind of want to fuck you now." She told him bluntly , the only way she knew how.

She wasn't good at feelings. Wasn't the kind of girl to sit there and proclaim her love through poetic words and sweet gestures . That just wasn't who she was. That was Taylor swift’s job. Maybe she could sing a song to him later instead .

Quinn knew that. And He heard her loud and clear.

He went bright red, scratching at his burning neck sheepishly , his eyes darting to the ground, to Cherrie and then to the exit doors before darting back to her again.

He swallowed nervously "I mean- you can-" he stammered shyly "if you want to I mean- we could-"

She cut him off quickly "Yeah. I do want . You I mean." Eagerly tugging him along with her as her heart hammered away in her chest, belly hot and head spinning.

She wanted him so bad.

He nodded his head eagerly , letting out a overwhelmed laugh. "Yeah. Yeah. Cool. Okay-" he ran his free hand through his hair nervously

"home?" He muttered , breath catching in his throat when she looked over at him quietly for a moment

Then she shook her head with a soft smile and agreed quietly "home."

They barely managed to stumble to his car before Quinn was pushing her up against the door, body pressed tightly against her own as he leant his head down and kissed her.

Moaning against her mouth as he felt her slide her hand into his back pocket and squeeze his ass, roughly pulling his hips up against her own as she bit down on his bottom lip hotly.

"Shit. Fuck.." he breathed out , eyes dark as he panted breathlessly against her mouth. Pulling back to kiss down her neck, marking her , tongue soothing over the sting as he held her as close as could possibly be .

Dipping his head to kiss her again and again and again, he exhaled shakily "you know right?" He mumbled begween kisses.

Cupping the back of her neck and stroking her ear gently, heart feeling like it was too full too handle. Goosebumps breaking out on his skin when she pulled away just enough to smile up at him, lips now the same colour as her name that he muttered out in awe.

“Cherrie…”

She laughed breathlessly against his jaw, kissing up to his cheekbone as she ran her fingers through his hair, tugging at it until he was moaning aginst her mouth shamelessly .

"I do." She didn't give a shit anymore . Tough girl act gone out of the window.

All she felt was her heart racing beneath her skin , then the feeling of his hands slipping beneath her shirt and the trembling of his lips as he laid his heart out on her sleeve, for her to do whatever she wanted with it.

"You’re gonna be my Taylor coded boyfriend now Quinn. Alright?" She let him know.

Lips pressing all over his face , lipstick print covering his skin as she left a red stain on his heart. He didn't wipe it away, he planned to keep it there forever.

He laughed shyly against her, eyes fluttering with bliss as she kissed his eyelids , then kissed his nose, kissing downwards till she reached his lips again.

"Sounds cool." He mumbled , licking the roof of her mouth as they made out aginst his car like teenagers.he couldn't wait to get her home.

"Can I say it?" He whispered pleadingly , hand on her hip and the other in the back pocket of her shorts as he held her close to him.

Breathless , overwhelmed and utterly fucked in the best way. She smiled knowingly

"You can tell me everything." She said. Meaning it. She wasn’t afraid anymore.

He looked at her and knew, and he knew that she knew it too. It was there right from the start , when she had crashed onto his place , made it her own. When they had argued, had bickered, had pushed and shoved, and pulled at each other's hair and clothes . Had challenged and dared eachother to do it.

So he did "I love you." He admitted to her, honesty flowing as freely through him as his love for her did.

"I think I always will." He said. Kissing her again.

She laughed softly against his lips "I know." She hummed, eyes sparkling as she grinned up at him

“I love you too. Stupid thing for us to do huh?" She said.

He laughed breathlessly "so stupid. But- hockey player so.." he shrugged his shoulders jokingly as he pulled away from her.

Opened up the passenger seat door and kicked her ass with his foot, making her giggle as he nudged her into the seat. Laughing with her.

"What's your excuse?" He teased her as he ran around to his side of the car, slipping in and turning on the engine. He pulled up his phone and put in their playlist they had made in the bar.

She looked at him, looked at his shy smile and his rosy cheeks, his flustered laugh as he leant over to buckle her in.

She sighed happily "stupidity is contagious. Remember?" She simply replied.

He laughed as Taylor swift sounded from the speakers , both of their hands reaching out to turn it up as lover played loud and clear.

Cherrie shook her head with a playful wince "this is all Taylor's fault. I mean-it's like she plans it. You're my song. All those songs I've sang along to.." she groaned , head resting on his shoulder as she kissed him there. Wanting to be close.

“I was singing about you all along!"

Quinn picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles , then held it in his own. Sighing blissfully

"Actually. It's your brothers fault really." He muttered , chuckling in amusement at how the tables had turned. "He made me swear that I wouldn't fall in love with you." He told her.

Cherrie exhaled long and hard , sharing a amused glance with Quinn.

He tutted "I don't like being told what to do. So..it's all his fault."

She nodded her head along seriously "complete dick. All his fault."

He nodded too , grinning against her knuckles as he kissed her hand again just because he could now.

"Complete asshole."

"Fuck him."

"Fuck him."

She looked over at him slyly "fuck me?"

He smirked contently "for the rest of our lives."

It's been a long time coming but..

He wouldn't change a single thing. And they could put the blame on Taylor and her brother anyways.

[mpregeminem]

Okay here are some antics I think the BTR boys would get up to source: I’m a certified minnesotan who goes to duluth a few times a year

-the main mall in duluth is the miller hill mall. Totally generic, average mall, but it’s pretty much the main thing teens will do during the winter. I think they would get banned for life by starting a food fight in the cafeteria and they’d keep coming up with disguises to use and then subsequently getting banned again. there's also a mall called fitgers which is pretty cool because it used to be a brewery. i've only been there a few times so idk as much about it alas.

-speaking of malls, at some point they would come to minneapolis (i assume for say a hockey trip for example) and go to the mall of america. It’s the biggest mall in the western hemisphere and theres a zillion stores so you can imagine all the antics there. But in particular, they have an amusement park. It is currently nickelodeon universe but i think at the time it would’ve still been camp snoopy. I think they would have gotten banned by climbing up the rides and breaking something.

-While in minneapolis, i think they would’ve gone to the sculpture garden (it’s free). I think they would somehow make the cherry break off from the famous spoonbridge and cherry fountain

-They would also go to the science museum for sure. I think they would manage to knock over a dinosaur skeleton. But also they’d also just have all kinds of general antics. For example, they have a thing that blasts you with air to replicate sneezing and they’d 100% do that to each other. I can elaborate on this more I went to this museum sooo much as a kid but this is already gonna be so long lmao.

-While still in the area, they’d go to Valleyfair, which is like the main amusement park around here. Again, generic amusement park antics. But I also think they’d come around halloween, when they do ValleyScare, which is when they have like, haunted houses and scare actors and whatnot

-Going back to duluth, they would DEFINITELY spend time around canal park in the warmer months. It’s like this little touristy/shopping center in duluth. There’s a bunch of little shops and restaurants and a couple museums (including the irvin museum which is like a big ass historic boat and also as an aside they do like a haunted ship thing around halloween) around there. There’s a lakewalk they could walk along, there’s a lighthouse you can walk up to, and also there’s this like semi-submerged structure in the lake that people like to jump off of in the summer. 

-Also in the canal park area is the aerial lift bridge. The whole bridge lifts up when boats are gonna pass under. The guys would 100% get in trouble for trying to stay on the bridge while it’s going up

-Theres also this like, family fun center in canal park called adventure zone that i remember going to as a kid. it has like, an arcade and laser tag and stuff like that. obviously they would get kicked out of there almost immediately

-Theres a tower in duluth called enger tower that at least one of them would definitely fall out of and break an arm or something

-there’s a famous mansion called the glensheen mansion. Notoriously, there were some murders that happened there and tour guides aren’t supposed to talk about it during the tours (they’re usually okay fielding questions about after the tour) so I would imagine they would pester the poor tour guide about the murders/ghosts until the guide snapped asjhds

-less like, antic-y, but there used to be record shop called electric fetus that they probably would have gone to

-i think they would’ve been banned from the lake superior zoo for trying to pet the animals or something but i suppose that could happen at any zoo

- the downtown duluth area is on a really steep hill so i imagine in winter after it snowed they’d try to sled down it and almost get hit by cars

-Grandma’s marathon ends in canal park, so i think they’d fake like they ran the whole marathon to impress girls or something sadjhhka

-there are a lot of parks including state parks so i could imagine them getting like lost in the woods or whatever. in general in minnesota/duluth theres a lot of outdoorsy stuff like skiing, hiking, canoeing, kayaking, boating, jetskiing, ATVing, snowmobiling, that sort of stuff. fishing is really big because we have a zillion lakes lol. i was always a dork who just wanted to stay inside as a teen lol but teenage boys i knew growing up tended towards doing those outdoors stuff.

-an aside but i know the guys are hockey players so it's probably good to know the minnesota hockey team is the minnesota wild. im not a big hockey person but my understanding is they are incredibly mid.

hope this helps with your band yaoi bestie <3 obviously this is a non-exhaustive list but this is the big stuff that came to mind.

@partiallypearl @cant-get-enough-btr-forever @myloveforhergoeson @mpregloganmitchell @mpregkendallknight @btr-rewatch @bishounenbtr tagging you guys because you might be interested in their minnesota antics from a reliable source (my good friend penny)

penny i love love that you wrote all this i felt like i was taking a little tour with you around the cities <333

THEY HAD CAMP SNOOPY ARE YOU KIDDING ME... that's adorable, they definetly would've managed to catch that big snoopy on fire orrr get really trashed one night and try to steal it skdjsh (it seems huge on that picture so the idea of the guys clumsily trying to climb it to take it with them is cracking me up).

i remember you mentioning the spoonbridge once!! don't remember the context lol, i didn't know it was an entire garden waow.. yeah that cherry would suffer some damage with them around for sure.

that science museum looks like so much fun 😭 i think logan would ask them to go and they'd do it for him but end up having a blast together. if you do feel like telling more about what you liked about it as a kid please do bc im charmed by this place.

that picture of canal park's submerged structure is making me crazy bc those guys jumping into the lake could totally be them... one thing in general about these guys is they canonically Love the outdoors, they like to camp, the beach and they seemed to take well to california's warmer weather, i can see them taking any chance they got back home to enjoy the sun and the water without freezing their toes off lol. they also wanted to take snowboarding lessons according to the show (but james' mom made them take ballet instead <3), they'd take advantage of any change of adrenaline. the rush, one could say 🤨

THAT MANSION!! idk if you got that far but there's a ghost episode in season 1, and they obviously try to bust it. this would be right up their alley. i can see them plotting to split during the tour so they can catch that sucker (kendall's plan, brought on by carlos' request/begging skdjshs)

fun fact!!

but the fact that they're mid makes it so much funnier to me 😭😭😭 another mutual also told me the maple leafs are kinda hated? i honestly can see kendall choosing these teams out of spite as a young teen skdjdhd "oh you think they suck? well now i want in even more :)"

I LOVE THISSSSS thank you for taking the time to write it bestie ❤️❤️

[atwhughesversion]

“What is Demko really going through? None of us have real answers to it — I’ve asked around a bit too over the weekend; I know Dhaliwal mentioned that there isn’t a panic level, and that’s the sense I’m getting. There isn’t this ‘panic’ within the organization about Demko’s status, or that he’s done for the year, or anything. I’ve seen some speculation on social media about this being an ACL injury — listen, none of us have any details, whether they’ve had surgery or not, or what happened, the degree of the injury, or where things are at.

The one thing I would say however: if there was a major surgery he had gone through in the summer, we probably would’ve heard about it. Teams don’t — they usually say ‘hey, this player underwent this type of reconstruction’ or ‘this type of major surgery; they’re gonna be out for this amount of time.’ They don’t often tell you if there are minor things that happen, but if it’s a big thing that happens, and he’s supposed to be out for months on end and perhaps is going to miss the first month or two of the season, I think we would’ve heard about that. So I don’t think whatever he’s dealing with is anything of that major nature, just based on how those things typically get revealed by the organization.”

Satiar Shah, The People’s Show

thank you for talking me off the ledge, sat

[etherealsworldvision]

General Message

Before I begin the reading I’d like to take a moment to talk about: Restore the Delta. They’re a non-profit organization whose mission is to ensure the health of San Francisco Bay-Delta estuary and Delta Communities. Click here if you’d like to donate.

🚨 P.S.A 🚨 I DO NOT GIVE PERSONAL READINGS

Credits: Photography by Jack W. Dykinga; Layout by Triso Gamboa

Note: The reason I used Triso’s layout is a trial run to see the type of engagement this will get. For sure I will (and would love to) create my own template.

[ Messages: ‘I feel no shame, I’m in love, sweet love don’t you ever go away it’ll always be this way.’ - Sweet Love by Anita Bake; ‘Fear is found in bravery. Without it then we will always remain sheltered — take that step.’; ‘If soulmates do exist they are not found, they are made. People meet, they get a good feeling, and they work on building a relationship.’; Picture a wave. In the ocean. You can see it, measure it, its height, the way the sunlight refracts when it passes through. And it's there. And you can see it, you know what it is. It's a wave. And then it crashes in the shore and it's gone. But the water is still there. The wave was just a different way for the water to be, for a little while. You know it's one conception of death for Buddhists: the wave returns to the ocean, where it came from and where it's supposed to be.’; May you Pursue what lights you up; May it be effortless; May you know you are worthy of a gift; May you extend your reach.]

[ Additional Messages: Yellow of the Sun - Nao; 444; 1010; completion; pirate ships; crews; cruise; The Good Place.]

Cards: The World; 10 of Cups; Justice; 10 of Pentacles. King of Diamonds; 4 of Spades; Ace of Diamonds; Ace of Clubs. Joy; Ease; Receive; Stretch.

Wow you guys are coming into a new energy! I feel that this may be coming in by late spring to late summer, meaning June — September. Some of you may be my Leo’s because that season is popping up OR you may have a good time during Leo season. You may find stability within your finances and emotions or will be coming into it.

I’m getting that during the time you’re reading this you have been struggling for the past few months. Like you’re just stuck in a rut. You know that one song ‘nothings new’ by Rio Romeo — they kept singing nothing’s new…yeah. You might have even closed yourself off or couldn’t find the time to connect with people because of the situation.

Now I’m not saying “this is the end yiipieee!” It’s more of hey you’re gonna set sail again because the weather conditions are right. Because when you’re a sailor you know when you can set sail and when you have to navigate through the storms while clenching the wheel as tight as you can.

I’m also getting the radio host from the song ‘Hopscotch’by Tinashe. ‘Alright, we got another beautiful day here in sunny Los Angeles, California. Let’s take a look at our seven day forecast — we’re seeing lots of sunshine all week long — temperatures in the mid to upper 70s’. Yeah I typed that out cause it’s fun and it adds to the fun lol. I’ll even add it here lol.

Anyway before spring ends, you may get into a new hobby or fandom that just makes your world sparkle. For some reason that is the key indicator that you’ll get a break. Because of this new hobby/entertainment you’ll feel emotionally reconnected which makes you want to be motivated to explore yourself and everything around you.

As you start to explore and expand things start to escalate. It might become overwhelming so of course you need something to balance it out and that is where material/finances come in. It really could be finance or something that’s physical coming in fruition. Honestly for some of you — you may have been working on a looong project and you finally see the results.

The important thing to know is that this experience will find you instead of you looking for it. Like it really feels that this is going to randomly pop up (on your feed for some of you). Okay this is all I’m getting for you, I wish you all well :)!

[hyperions-light]

Ooo Davrin & Leth?

Hey, uchidachi! Thanks for asking!

WIP Folder ask game is [here]! 2,5,8,10,11,12,14 are answered!

I think I posted this on WIP Wednesday Thursday at some point, but who knows where that is lol

This was because I was thinking about haw Davrin and Leth both left their clans & they obviously had to discuss it

Also Leth is not good at carving wooden animals, but they enjoy hanging out with Davrin while he does his hobbies <3

“You left your clan, too?”

“Mmmhmm,” Leth hums, staring intently at the piece of wood they’re mangling. Davrin thinks they might be making a cat.

“To join the Crows,” he continues, making a valiant effort to keep his tone neutral.

They slice off another chunk of wood. It doesn’t make the piece look any more like an animal, but Rook seems pleased.

“Well,” they say, holding the knife at a strange angle. “I didn’t leave on purpose, you know.”

Davrin reaches over and gently moves their hand so the knife isn’t so precariously close to their other one.

“You didn’t?”

“Yeah, I—“ they begin, then look up, their brain seeming to catch up with their mouth. “Well, I was kidnapped by sharks—“

“Rook,” Davrin says, a bit annoyed. He doesn’t mind their joking around, usually, but he wishes they’d take things seriously sometimes.

They never seem to want to have an honest conversation about themselves, at least not with him. And it’s a bit… hurtful, he supposes. He’d like to think they’re friends— that Rook trusts him.

“Sorry,” they say, ducking their head. They scrape the knife against the wood uselessly.

“I was always an adventurous kid,” they pick up, after a few moments, returning to the wood with conviction. “Restless. The clan would visit Treviso, and I’d run off. My parents were dead, and the Keeper was busy. I was good at finding places to hide.”

Davrin carefully whittles away at his bear’s claws.

“I’d be gone weeks, sometimes. I thought it was fun— but I’d always come back. Except—“

They stop speaking, and Davrin looks up to make sure they haven’t stabbed themselves somehow. Again.

They’re just sitting, frowning slightly. Looking at something that isn’t there.

“There was a plague. People were talking about how everyone was getting sick, how they were going to call a quarantine. I heard them, but I didn’t pay attention— I didn’t understand what they meant.”

They blink, and return to the wood, carving a piece away carefully.

“The Keeper couldn’t find me, and they couldn’t wait. They had to protect the Clan. So they left.

“I was alone. It was… terrifying, honestly. It got very bad in the Drowned District; people dying in the streets. The merchants were paying their soldiers to kill anyone who tried to come out. It went on… months, like that? I don’t know. The quarantine wasn’t lifted until the summer ended. And, by then, the Clan was in another city. They came back, when they heard they could, but,” Rook shrugs. “I was upset. I felt… abandoned. I get it now, but it was different, as a kid, you know?”

Davrin frowns. Puts his knife down and reaches over to touch their arm gently.

“I’m sorry, Rook. You don’t have to—“

“It’s alright,” they say, smiling at him. It seems oddly strained, for them. “It was a long time ago. I don’t think about it, much.”

He watches them for a moment, then nods, sitting back in his chair.

Something he’s learned, in the Wardens; sometimes, there’s nothing you can do, to fix things. Sometimes, all you can do is listen.

“I hid from them. The Keeper found me, but I shouted at them; I said I didn’t want to come back. The Clan stayed a few more weeks—waiting for me, I think, but they had to go. The halla needed to graze, and there were plants to harvest… well, you know. I lived in empty buildings and tents for a while, like everyone else, and then Viago found me. And here I am!”

They look up, again, a more genuine smile on their face this time.

“It all worked out, didn’t it?”

“I guess it did,” Davrin says, smiling back at them. He retrieves his knife; resumes the work. “Did you see them again?”

He often wonders, what it might be like to go home. To see the sails of their aravels, stitched together with that pattern unique to his Clan. To smell the rice cooking with that specific blend of spices. Maybe find out what everyone thinks of Assan; of what he’s become.

He’s been thinking about it more often, recently, after talking to Bellara.

“Oh, sure!” they reply, cheerful again. “It’s not like they kicked me out. Whenever they came to Treviso, I’d visit— Telahn, who did my vallaslin, even taught me how to tattoo people. The Keeper— the current one— was never particularly fond of me, but he doesn’t mind me dropping in. Haven’t seen them in a few years, though.”

They frown, chipping away a piece of wood more violently than the poor carving deserves.

“I sent them a message when the Antaam invaded, telling them to stay away. Hopefully, they’re off in the countryside, somewhere.”

“We tend to be resourceful,” Davrin says, “I think they’ll make it.”

“They will,” Rook nods. They attack the wood several times in quick succession. “They know how to survive— they don’t need the humans for it. It’s just convenient, to trade in the Grand Markets, to be in a place protected by the Crows. I liked—“ they pause, their hands stilling. “I liked the thought of looking out for them, when they were there.”

Davrin smiles. Thinks of the sound of wooden wheels on old, time-worn paths.

“You never really leave.”

“No,” Rook says, “they’re with you, wherever you go.”

They tap their chest with the wooden object, as if to indicate where the feeling lives.

They look down at their project. Frown.

“Does this look like a fish to you?”

He laughs.

“Honestly? Not at all. Sorry, Rook.”

“Ah, well,” they shrug, congenially. “Bet it looks like a chew toy. Assan!”

[the-al-chemist]

The Beginning of a Symphony - Chapter 42

A/N: Jim had the first proper chapter, and he will have the last, too. We’re ending on a hopeful note.

Warnings: breaking of the most important rule of theatre. Sorry for any bad luck.

OCs mentioned: Selene Fraser and family @lifeofkaze

August 1897

It had been a relatively quiet summer, by all accounts, and the peaceful atmosphere at the Hexley family’s cottage only grew once Ethel left home to visit Selene and her grandparents in the Scottish highlands. Despite his twin sister having become marginally less tiresome in the previous few months, Jim could not say in truth that he was impatient to have her back. He was rather enjoying his serene summer without her.

Still, he was as glad as anyone to see her handwriting on the envelope of a letter delivered over breakfast one morning in the first half of August. His mother was the one to open the envelope, and she read through the several sheets of parchment it contained with a wide smile on her face.

“It sounds like the girls are having a splendid time,” she informed her son and husband, the latter of whom hummed behind his newspaper in response. “Ethel says that they saw a kelpie in one of the lochs, and Selene’s uncle has taught them the basics of whiskey-making.”

“Just what every young lady needs to know,” murmured Jim’s father. “Anything else?”

“Yes, they’re preparing a two-woman production of Macbeth to perform for the family before she leaves.”

“Dear Jove. Have Selene’s relatives not suffered enough already?”

“Apparently not,” Mrs Hexley sighed. “Perhaps we had ought to send up another gift to thank them for their hospitality.”

“I have some spare sets of earmuffs in my greenhouse,” her husband suggested. “They work against my Mandrakes, they might even be good enough to work against our daughter.”

Jim laughed into his cup of tea, and though his mother shook her head, her own lips were twitching.

“I’ll write to her grandmother later, or maybe her uncle. I understand he and his husband live with the grandparents.”

Frowning, Jim raised his head. “His husband?”

“Oh, yes. Not by law, of course, but in all other respects that’s how I would describe them,” said his mother. She looked at home an laughed. “Really, Jimmy. You should see the look on your face.”

“Well, I… I was not aware that a man might have a husband, by law or not. I did not know that men could love one another, not in that way.”

“A great many people can love one another in many different ways with no power over how they do it. That is the beauty of love. The heart knows what it wants, and all one has to do is have the strength to follow it.”

“I suppose that you are right, Mamma.”

“Your mother is always right, Jim,” said Mr Hexley, and his wife kissed the top of his head before leaving the room. He watched her do so, and once she was gone, added under his breath, “Or so she keeps telling me.” He lowered his newspaper and fixed Jim with a peculiar look. “On the subject of love, did you manage to pluck up the courage to ask that young lady if she would be interested in courting you?”

“Er, in a way… Yes, I suppose I did.”

“And? Will you be courting her any time soon?”

Jim lowered his eyes to the table as he pictured the look on Héloïse’s face when he had told her that she was beautiful, the feeling of her lips on his own when they had kissed on the staircase and the movement of her dressrobes as they had danced together in the Great Hall afterwards. How she had been bathed in moonlight with her hair as black as the night sky, her eyes filled with hope and her voice honey-sweet when they had sat at the top of the astronomy tower and each said three words that had been so simple and yet so very meaningful, all at once.

“Father,” he said eventually, not even trying to keep the smile from his face, “I think that I will marry her one day soon.”

His father nodded slowly.

“In that case, I shall have to up my prices,” he said, and with that, he returned to his newspaper.

Jim continued smiling as he looked out of the window. Outside, the sun was shining, and the wildflowers were in bloom. It was beautiful. Later, he would draw them - perhaps he would even use colour, the way Brady had taught him - and send the picture to Héloïse. For now, however, he was content just to look, to keep the sketchbook she had given him tucked away in his breastpocket, and feel his heart beat against it through the fabric of his clothes. No one else knew that it was there, but he did. He knew what lay close to his heart, he knew what his heart wanted, and he knew that he had the strength to follow it. He had already begun to follow it, and he would continue to do so soon.

Soon.

One day, soon.

[shortnonsense]

Old Shoes

by M. James

I was 10 at one point. Now I’m not. I hate that.

My mom says I’m just like her, so I guess it’s written in stone, but maybe there is room to be my own person. My sister is not like me. She seems to know the answers before the questions and doesn’t even care that some of us ask why. But such is the life of the 13-year old daughter of an engineer. Dad says he wanted 3.25 children; I think that’s meant to be an engineer joke, but usually I lose track of time when he says anything over eight words. I wake up suddenly an hour later and I don’t know where I’ve been.

What was I saying?

Oh. 3.25 kids. Yeah, that math didn’t work out, and I have a sister and two twin little monsters—I mean, brothers. Their names aren’t important. What is important is that I used to be 10.

My mom had aspirations once, I think, but now she seems to be happy to get through the day. I’ve seen the degrees and pictures of her PKD (aka pre-kid days), and she looked happier then. I know she loves us, and we make her happy also; it’s just that I don’t think she has spoken with her face lately to get on the same page with her heart.

When I was 10, it was just me and my sister, which meant is was mainly just me. My sister tends to live above us all. Now it’s all noise, and movement, and…where are my old shoes? I’ve been going through my closet for hours, and all I can think about was that I was 10 once. And that is when I went to the mall to buy shoes.

“Clara!” I heard my dad yell from downstairs, and most likely from the garage. I’m sure he’s been sitting in the car waiting on me. I guess I’ll be late again. But I really wanted to wear those old shoes to school today!

“Clara! Get in the car! You’ve had three tardies this month already, and I don’t want to have another meeting with your teacher!” yelled dad.

“I’m coming!” I yelled back.

“…then I told her to mind her own business, but she kept asking. I walked out and told her that I could do what I wanted, that she wasn’t even my real mom…” droned my friend/acquaintance that I’m required to listen to since we are lab partners in third period life science. Her name? Not really important, either. I mean—names just come and go, in the next class it will be another name, going on and on about something they know I don’t really care about, but have to act like I care about it because of all of this forced socializing. My mom says I’m an introvert. I think I just don’t like most people. And I think I just want to get this report done, but I’m the only one working.

“Class, take your seats. Open your text books to page 324. Anyone remember what we discussed yesterday?” shouts Mrs. Life Science Teacher, ending my suffering. Now for the “sit and try to listen to someone else” time. But really, I do like school. I just remember liking it more when I was 10. Now I feel like one of those little metal balls bouncing around inside one of the games they always show on retro shows about the 1980’s. I just bounce from one name to the next, smiling and nodding. Till 4 pm when I get to go back home, to my room, to my closet. Where are those old shoes?

The drive home is quiet. It is March and rainy, which means it’s that stretch of school between Spring Break and Summer with no days off, and everyone, including the teachers, are just trying to get to the end of the year without a major incident. Last year, that one boy got sick after his family trip to Mexico, and he spent several weeks in the hospital. We made cards. What was his name? I don’t remember. I do remember drawing a sun on the card I made him. I don’t know why we draw suns on cards, maybe they’re supposed to make people happy or something.

“BOOM!”

An explosion rocks the car, and I have no idea what is happening. The explosive noise jerks me out of my thoughts, and I find I am now gripping my sister’s hand tightly enough to make her squeal and rip here arm away.

“Hold on!” screams my mom in a way that makes me think she is really yelling at herself. Her usual, casual grip on the steering is now a stern 10 and 2. The car starts to weave and shake as the tire makes this loud throbbing sound. We all start to collectively realize the tire has blown as the car slows to a halt on the inside shoulder of a very busy Interstate 10. Jacksonville is busy at 4:30pm on a Tuesday, and we are no longer in the flow of busy parents trying to pick up their kids between work and soccer practice.

Time stops. Life was going at the speed of a school day, and then nothing. Cars blow by, making us shake with each passing. What now? This is certainly a first. Nothing ever interrupts the drive to and from school, except for that one time I forgot my backpack with my book report on the life of Alexander the Great. I got a C +. But now life has been interrupted. My mom is trying to get my dad on the phone while my sister starts quoting standard procedures for times of emergency.

“Yes, on the side of the road! We’re stuck out here, and I am not getting out of this car in this kind of traffic! We’re lucky we didn’t flip!” my mom blurts as she tries to get all the words out at once to my dad, who clearly has been interrupted from some important work meeting. “Okay, okay, you’re right, we’re fine. Yes, I’ll call our road-side assistance. Yes, we’ll sit tight.” Her words become slower as we all start to settle into the situation.

A few minutes later we all have our eyes locked on little blue and red converging dots that tell us exactly how soon our salvation will arrive. I’m starting to feel like maybe this is the most exciting thing I’ve ever experienced. I have never been in this situation before, and it is so foreign to me. I have seen cars on the side of the road and have wondered what it would be like to be in such a helpless situation; now here we are, here I am. Helpless, dependent on the blue dot to get here as fast as possible. I wonder how in the world this person coming to our aide will even be able to get to us since the cars appear to be going 100 miles an hour, mere inches from my door! We, of course, have no idea what the damage might be to our gold 2010 Camry. It is going to be mine one day, my sister always jokes, because she plans to buy her own, much better car, but now…who knows. That noise makes me wonder if anything is left back there. I had no idea a tire popping could make such a noise.

Finally, an hour later, the dots finally become one, and the tow truck we saw zip by 15 minutes ago has finally swung back around is was slowly positioning itself on the shoulder to get even with our car. While waiting, Mom called several times to yell at several people. I think she really had to pee, and the call center couldn’t solve that particular problem. Turns out there were only two trucks in our part of Jacksonville today, and the other one is stuck in the middle of a 4-car pile up on the 95. Just our luck to blow a tire on Tommy’s day off. That is name of the driver of what would have been the third truck, the one who might have been able to get to us 30 minutes sooner. Which would have been a whole 30 minutes sooner to find out that our car doesn’t just need a new tire, it needs to be towed to the shop to fix the axle, our driver explains.

Tommy. That was a name that was important. Isn’t that odd. A name of someone not there was more important to me than all of those who were there, all the time, and never went away. Tommy was important because if he had been the one to stumble out of his rusted rig I might be that much closer to finding my old shoes. Now, this other guy, who smells like he lives in his tow truck, is trying to work out what the plan will be with my mom, who is getting more and more frustrated. She must really have to pee now.

One more call to Dad, more time waiting in the car, and soon it has been explained to my sister and I that we need to choose. Go with Mom and the Camry in the tow truck, or go with Dad in his car. Not like I get a vote, but it’s nice of Mom to phrase it like I do. As my sister argues the merits of her going with Dad, I watch the tow truck driver begin to hook up the Camry to this big crane-looking thing. Why can’t we just ride in the Camry like normal when it’s being towed? It doesn’t seem like it matter to me whether we ride in the car like normal or ride in the car while someone pulls us. Things like this didn’t ever happen when I was 10.

Jake. His name is Jake. Our driver. It says so on the little patch on his shirt. And just like that I am now aware of two important names. But Jake isn’t important like Tommy is. Jake is important because I cannot believe I am going to have to sit on his gross seat, in his gross truck, smelling his gross smells, all the way to wherever cars go to get fixed when they blow up on Interstate 10 after school on a Tuesday. I slide as close to Mom as I can. You’d think a vehicle that literally pulls other vehicles around would have a back seat, but this one barely even has a front seat! And what surface area that does exist is littered with Big Mac cartons and wrappers from what must be his favorite corner store snack.

My mom and I sit still in the cab of the truck while Jake finishes up. My dad picked up my sister 20 minutes ago and left us to die. That’s probably just me being dramatic. But that’s what it feels like. Why couldn’t we all go with my dad? Great question. But I guess 13-year old girls named Clara who used to be 10 don’t get those kinds of answers.

My mom busies herself on her phone, texting with friends about the ordeal, while I watch Jake in the rearview mirror. There is a radio, which is something. He has it on some station that primarily features people arguing about the recent blowout loss by the Jaguars. I was actually aware of this recent happening since I remember my dad yelling at the TV on Sunday, saying many of the same things these people are conveying. I myself am thoroughly disinterested in football, or sports, or most things people argue about with strangers.

I jump when the door opens and Jake hops in to sit next to me with much more athletic prowess than I would guess a man of his weight could accomplish.

“Hey there!” Jake says through an awkward grin. Something tells me he doesn’t get many 13-year old passengers.

“Hi,” I find myself whispering back, with what is most likely an equally awkward smile. I had been so wrapped up in my critique of Jake’s apparent lack of workplace cleanliness that I had lost track of his movement. I am not ready for this conversation, and now I am having it, and he is way closer than I expected. This middle seat must have been designed for three very small people, not one large man in his mid 50’s, one regular-sized mom, and one me.

“Pretty crazy, right?” Jake asked. “That tire of yours really messed up your back quarter panel. Your car may take a few weeks get it up and running again.”

“Huh,” I mutter, trying to find some similar personal experience that will make me able to in some way say something relevant to the point Jake is making. I fail. This is why we have phones. To give us something to stare at instead of doing whatever we have to do right now. But no, I have to wait another year till that magic age of 14 to have a phone. I guess in six months I’ll be responsible. Until then, It’s just me.

Jake cranks up the engine as we try to ease into the closest lane. Soon, we are up to speed, and I see that our destination has already been loaded into the GPS. To my relief we are in store for a fairly short drive. At least I thought. But at this point my mom states that if we do not stop for a bathroom, she will just have to go then and there. Which is not that worst thing you can hear from you mom while riding in a cramped, smelly tow truck, but It’s probably on the top 10. Top 5 even.

Five minutes later, we pull into a 7-11, where Mom grabs me out of the truck, and we both run to the bathroom. The trip back to the truck is much slower, and mom is evidently feeling much better. We climb back up into the truck, and Jake begins to ease the gas down as we drive back out onto the frontage road. He must have found time to grab another of his favorite snacks while we were in the girls’ room, and as he struggles with the wrapper, I hear him let out what I can only describe as sorrow. “Oh man, this does not look good,” he states, like we are both examining recent roadkill. He points to the GPS screen, and it dawns on me that our route, which was very much green, is now red, and red is bad. In the time it took for our little side trip, something must have changed on our path that turned our quick 20-minute drive into over an hour. Soon we find ourselves sitting in what might as well have been a five-mile long parking lot on the interstate. After several minutes of no movement, we all watch with horror as the time to our destination grows exponentially bigger and bigger. Sirens make themselves known in the distance, slowly gaining volume as they pass by us, rushing to whatever accident has caused all of this, and with that, Jake turns off the ignition. This, in my mind, is the same as holding up the white flag of surrender. Bottom line—I am now looking at over an hour of forced, awkward conversation with someone I never should have even met.

Did I say I don’t like people? Yes, I think I did. And my mom is no help, becoming more and more absorbed in some article she is reading that was posted on her favorite blog.

Jake sighs, looks in the mirror, then asks, “So, how old are you?”

“13,” I say.

“I used to be 13,” Jake states, like it is a revelation from God.

“I have these old shoes,” I say to Jake several minutes later. “I’ve been looking for them for days. They are my favorite shoes, even though I haven’t worn them in a while. I bought them when I was 10. I used to be 10.” I don’t know why I’m telling him this fact about my current state of being. But somehow my conversation with Jake is going differently than the back and forth banter I usually endure from classmates and my sister.

Jake goes on to describe what it was like to be 13, a young boy, being raised by a single mom in North Carolina. He moved to Florida when he was 30 and has bounced around from one job to the next ever since. Never being able to get back to that feeling of unfiltered opportunity like he had when he was 13.

It’s like he is searching for something that he has lost and can’t seem to find it. Now he’s 54, driving a tow truck around Jacksonville 6 days a week, is admittedly overweight, doesn’t have many friends, and often thinks about his life choices that have led him here. But mainly, he remembers that he used to be 13.

I used to be 10. “When I was 10,” I continue, “my dad took me to the mall one day, and I saw these shoes in the window of Macy’s, and I begged him for them. Eventually, he let me try them on, and after some more begging, I was walking out of the store with them wrapped up in this big, expensive-looking bag.”

“They sound nice,” Jake interjects. I know there is no way he can understand the feeling of buying new shoes as a young girl, but it is nice of him to try.

“The reason these particular shoes were such a big deal is that up till that point, every pair of shoes I ever wore had first been worn by my older sister.

“Ah!” Jake slips out, with comprehension that leaves me surprised. “Hand-me-downs, yes, those were common in my family. I was an only child, but with my mom being low on cash most of the time, I got my wardrobe out of a bag of clothes that was left on our doorstep by the family down the street that had two older boys, and they loved to point out the fact that I was always wearing clothes they were going to throw away.”

I let that statement linger a few minutes. We actually get to move forward about a quarter mile before yet another full stop. Another tow truck passes by to hopefully help clear the congestion several miles ahead.

“I wore those shoes every day for the whole school year,” I eventually say. “They were more than shoes, they were opportunity and freedom. They were truly mine, not something that was just mine now. Somehow, though, I lost track of them over the summer—I hardly ever wear actual shoes during the summer since it’s all flip flops and swimming. Then, when it was time to go back to school, there were more shoes in my closet, and I guess I just moved on. But now I’m 13, and I used to be 10, and I just want to find those old shoes.”

Jake looks at me for a while. My mom shifts positions, somehow able to tune out our conversation, aside from occasional comments about this traffic and how she had no idea it would take this long.

Finally, Jake’s eyes brighten, and he seems to have stumbled upon some kind of realization. “I’m sorry you can’t find your old shoes,” he says. “They sound very important to you. It is difficult growing up, leaving things behind, figuring out the new things.”

I look at him sideways, wondering how he jumped to that conclusion. I was talking about my shoes. I just want to find my old shoes. I wasn’t talking about growing up, or whatever.

Jake goes on. “I used to be 13, and the world fit inside my bedroom. One day I turned 14, then 15, then 16, and suddenly the world didn’t fit anymore. My world had gotten larger, but sometimes I’d think back on what it was like to be 13. I still do. Just like I think about what it was like to be 25 and 40. When I could run and not ache, or when I still had my mom, or when I still had dreams and goals. Now I look at the world rush by, as I sit on the side of the road. The only time I catch up to anyone is when they crash or break down. ‘Forced timeouts,’ I call them.”

He went on. “There are things, experiences, people even, that lock us into a time in our lives. It makes it easier to remember what it was like then after so much has changed. Our world moves on, but those things are locked in time. Like your old shoes.”

Jake pauses with that and lets his words drift through my mind. I was starting to think Jake was an important name for more reasons than I first assumed.

“I used to be 10,” I said, “and it was so much easier. Things made more sense to me, and now so much doesn’t. It was just me and my shoes. I just want to find them again.”

I wave goodbye to Jake as he pulls out of the repair shop parking lot. His is a name I will remember. My mom finishes speaking with the manager, working out the plan and cost of the repairs. It had taken so long for us to arrive that my dad is now able to swing by after finishing up at the office. My sister has been home for hours. I slide into the back seat next to a large garbage bag.

“Oh, just move that over, Honey. I forgot I still had that back there. I was supposed to drop it off at your cousin Ellie’s house last week,” explained Dad.

I stare at the bag as a thought begins to form. It is mixed with the story that Jake shared, the one about the bag of hand-me-downs he received from the people down the street from him. I untie the knot in the bag and peer inside. Just as I suspect, it is filled with clothes. My cousin is a few years younger than us, and since my younger brothers won’t be wearing my clothes, my parents often bag them up and drop them off for her to use. As I dig through the bag, I recognize shirts and dresses from years past. Some I remember liking, others I rarely wore.

Then my hand brushes against something hard under the stack of shorts. I have a rush of adrenaline as I reach in to grasp the item, pulling it into the light. “My old shoes!” I exclaim, apparently louder than intended, as my mom jumps at the sound.

“Yes, Honey, I put those in the giveaway bag months ago. You never wear them, and I don’t think they even fit you anymore,” explained Mom.

I hear her words, but they somehow don’t hit the mark she intends. Instead, I want to lash out, my anger stirred after such a difficult day. I am about to scream at her, tell her how she should never have thought to give away my favorite shoes, when something stops me.

I picture a 13-year old Jake, sitting in his room, playing. I used to be 10. I remember running to school in these shoes. I loved how I felt in them. They were mine, and the world made sense. But I’m not 10 anymore, just like Jake isn’t 13. Our worlds have grown, and for me 13 is scary, but it’s what I am. I need to stop looking for my old shoes, let someone else have them.

I slide them back in the bag and let it settle to the floorboard. “You’re right, I say to Mom. Ellie will love them. They are great shoes.”

After a few more minutes of driving, I ask, “Mom, can I go to a party next weekend? It’s a birthday party for my friend from Life Science class.”

“Probably,” says my mom. “What’s her name?” she asks.

“Shelby.”

[bylrlve]

Rereading the posts by @galecstatic and @chirpsythismorning about the edits to the script for 3x08, and I want to articulate my thoughts - screenshots taken from their posts

There are two angles to this - very confusing scriptgate implications and what it may say about Mike.

1.) It would be very, very strange for Nick to post fake scripts on 8flix, then go back and edit out bits of internal character dialogue. Not impossible, but strange.

One could argue that he did this because scripts usually don’t contain internal dialogue and ‘filler’ stuff, and he wanted to make them appear legitimate, and I certainly am by no means ruling it out, but he kept that kind of stuff in for the fake 404 and 408 scripts he sent out last summer in exchange for money, and we know the Duffers do include that sort of thing in their scripts - the confirmed 209, 407 and 409 scripts have those things.

From 409, to demonstrate my point:

It makes one think that these scripts did originate from Netflix, and that he was contacted at some point to have these parts removed - but then, what implications does that have for the script debacle of last August? It’s hard to make a firm conclusion, but nevertheless the potential implication is that this script, at least, is is real. I’m refusing to get my hopes up, but i’ll 1% conclude they’re real.

Now, onto what this may, potentially, possibly mean for Mike, if this script is real - and again, I’m not getting my hopes up about any of this after Vol.2 lol.

In and of itself, these thoughts and actions - angry with himself, what’s wrong with me?, I’m such an idiot, appearing confused, remaining still, what the hell just happened here?- are not entirely inconsistent with the explanations given in s4 for Mike’s inability to say ILY.

One could surmise that he’s aware in s3 of this insecurity about being a nerd, given that he spends the season trying to be ‘cool’ and ‘not nerdy’, being a bit brazen in front of her dad, but one could also guess that he’s perhaps not self-aware about the ‘don’t want to say Ily bc it makes losing her hurt more’ thing, hence why he’s asking himself what’s wrong with him.

However, he does say it to a room of people in 306, and tries to say the words in the grocery store. I have no idea whether this is intentional, but s3 and s4 Mike? Do not gel.

Back to the point; it’s strange that he’s confused by ‘what happened’ as it’s pretty straightforward: she overheard him a few months prior, told him she loved just then, and kissed him, and what’s wrong with me? is supposed to reflect his thoughts as to why he supposedly won’t ‘say it’, it being ILY. However, he’s then confused when she says it? The script also doesn’t reflect that look of realisation on his face at the end of the scene - I assume him realising… that she loves him? When she just said it? .

It’s all confusing, but I’d be 100% willing to accept that these thoughts are supposed to be consistent with s4’s venting to Will and the monologue… if they weren’t removed, perhaps on request of Netflix. Because if they were, that has very interesting implications. Very 🏳️‍🌈? implications. And the timing of the edit could be meaningful, although I’m not sure when it was.

[donner-mathis-official]

Thinking about Blackrock and the way the narrative portrays the convicts as one dimensional bad guys who are just bad for no reason… except for when it doesn’t. You’ll have to excuse me for the length of this, I’m on mobile and don’t know if I can do a read more. Also it might be scattered I’m not the best at writing stuff like this.

So I’ve been replaying episode 4 and paying more attention to the prison and convicts than I have in the past, and I got a loading screen saying the following: “Doctor Childs has been medical director at the Blackrock for decades. It’s rumored that due to his experiments on penitentiary inmates he cannot get another job on the Mainland” (this may not be exact, the loading screen ended before I could copy it all down). There is also a note in the guardhouse saying “we’re going to need some volunteers to dig into a few of these rations that got dropped on us. We’ll be in the barracks tonight with the cook to open them up. If they’re any good, we might just keep them for ourselves.” These inmates are already being kept incarcerated in a remote location, in a concrete/stone building with no obvious insulation or heating in spite of temperatures in the area reaching down to negative fifty degrees. The exercise yards are in no shape to actually be used, with ripped and broken fences and walls, so it’s likely that even in the summer, inmates are not given the opportunity to exercise. They don’t get the food they’re supposed to, they don’t get exercise, they’re kept in inhumanely cold conditions. And on top of that, the medical officer may or may not experiment on them.

In addition, Mathis isn’t at Blackrock for the killing of the prison guards. He was on the bus on the night of the first flare, his name can be seen on the manifest. While Franklin does insinuate that Mathis has been here the whole time, or at least some amount of time prior to Mackenzie waking up in his cell, a lot of what he says just doesn’t add up with literally anything else. Between him thinking Mackenzie is one of Mathis’s cronies while Mackenzie is patching him up, in spite of being told explicitly that Mackenzie was in the cell next to him, and him talking about the generators staying up and the prison remaining in some semblance of order for a few days after the first flare (which is directly refuted by Jace’s presence), I think it’s pretty safe to say that he is not a reliable source. He’s either too concussed to understand what’s happening, he doesn’t trust Mackenzie and is lying on purpose, or there’s something else going on.

Jace says that the people the convicts were killing innocent civilians, but that just doesn’t make sense. The Blackrock area has only one other building that people visibly live in: that trailer that you find the dead power station worker in. Foreman’s Clearcut does not count, nor does Bricklayers Retreat, as neither of those has a proper bed. Foreman’s Clearcut is likely used as a logging centre in the warmer months, and the bedding at Bricklayer’s retreat seems to be insinuated to be the convict who lost his mind in that prepped cache you find in the memo side mission. This brings up the question of what civilians Jace is even referring to. There were only a few hours between the first flare junking her car and her reaching the prison, so even if the convicts were rounding up people from the area to shoot (which I find highly unlikely, because why would they), the only ones they would have had time to get were power plant workers, who were complicit in their captivity. More likely, Jace saw prison workers who were not currently on duty and thus in civilian clothes. Considering she only saw the bodies, she would have had no way to tell the difference, so it’s definitely not unlikely.

Let’s move on to Mathis specifically. Aside from general personality unpleasantness (because let’s face it. No matter how you slice it, this dude is an asshole), what does he actually do wrong? 1] burn down the Milton schoolhouse. Uncertain whether or not the convicts did this. Geomagnetically induced currents have been known to cause fires (which also occurs in canon, as power lines can be seen lighting on fire in the opening credits), so it’s also very possible that the people inside there just got unlucky. It’s also very possible that even if the convicts did do it, Mathis specifically was uninvolved. Too uncertain to give him points. 2] try to attack Grey Mother and Astrid. Neither of the convicts who did this were part of the main crew (they are also now dead), and while Mathis does seem to be a leader, we have no reason to think he ordered these things. Hobbs’s smug demeanor would suggest the opposite actually. Possibly Mathis’s fault, but unlikely. 3] kill the woman in the dam. While seems unlikely that the woman was Molly, considering Mathis described the woman as screaming, which does not seem like Molly’s reaction upon spotting him, it’s also very possible that Mathis was just straight up lying about that. Regardless, at least two of his guys (Hobbs and Leclerc) have been murdered since the bus crash. At this point, the convicts are likely running on the assumption that anyone they come across is a threat and should be dealt with accordingly. Which leads us into 4] knocking out Mackenzie. Potential threat. Enough said. Though the fact that he killed the woman and knocked out Mackenzie suggests, to me, that there’s something more there than just her being annoying, because at the point of Mackenzie being knocked out, Mathis doesn’t know that he could be useful. 5] kidnapping Mackenzie. Mathis has just had a very convenient escape from the island fall right into his lap, holding a very alluring and shiny mystery box. Not right, but understandable. 6] beat up and kill Franklin. Franklin says they have history, that he was warden at a prison Mathis was in on the Mainland. In addition, Franklin’s description says that, “no one is more aware of the notorious prison’s dark history than its Warden.” He believes all of this to be reasonable punishment, as in his mind, “the worst of the worst end up with him at Blackrock”. He has at the very least turned a blind eye towards, if not actively facilitated all of the previously mentioned torture done to inmates at Blackrock. And Mathis believes Franklin is standing between him and his son. Probably the most justified thing he does. 7] misogyny towards Jace. His son just got blown up and he’s enraged at the people he believes are at fault. Still, unequivocally his fault and bad. 8] attacking Mackenzie with a hatchet and vowing to destroy everything he loves. See 7.

Let’s compare this to another morally complex character we have: Molly. She also kills (minimum) two people; one who we have pretty solid textual evidence was a piece of shit (husband), and one who we know very little about (Leclerc). She keeps our player character locked up but releases them when she needs help, much like Mathis. They’re not exactly the same, ofc, because Molly saves Astrid’s life and Mathis, you know, actively endangers Mackenzie’s. But if Mackenzie had been in that same situation, it’s pretty clear that Molly would have left him to die (see: her not even checking that dude in the car in the opening cutscene, and her “I hope to never meet him” after Astrid says Mackenzie is a good man). They’re not on even ground, morally speaking, but they’re not too far off.

So why does the story portray them so differently? It’s pretty clear to me that we’re supposed to sympathize with Molly. And I absolutely do. I think she was absolutely right to let her husband get eaten by wolves. But what separates that from Mathis beating Franklin to death for facilitating the abuse of his son and the dozens of other inmates at Blackrock? Is it the fact that he actually did it instead of just letting it happen? Is it the fact that the player character knew Franklin, even a little bit? Is it the fact that he’s a convict? Mathis’s description quite literally calls him, “an evil bastard”. Which I’m not necessarily even denying. Morality is a spectrum and evil is an arbitrary and subjective line on that spectrum. But it still sits strangely with me. Molly’s describes her as a simple farmer who likes tea. Franklin’s describes him as an administrator who “got caught up in Mathis’s deadly schemes”.

At first glance, these descriptions, the music stings, and the general vibes the game has seem incongruous with the information we’re given about these characters, but as I look further into it, it feels intentional. Because the main difference that we the player get between Mathis and Molly is their treatment of our character. The characters with in game descriptions that make them out to be evil and bad and that’s it are the ones we get a bad first impression of: Hobbs and Mathis. We get a good first impression of Molly, Methuselah, and Father Thomas, whose descriptions all have a more positive tone. Jeremiah and Franklin’s are pretty neutral, which makes sense, considering they’re rude and dismissive but technically helpful. I’m probably kinda dumb for not recognizing this, but the music swells at key moments (such as when Franklin is wheeled out on the stretcher), these descriptions, everything we get that isn’t canon as being within the world… they’re extensions of Astrid and Mackenzie. Of how they see the world. Molly is given depth because Astrid is looking for it. Mathis isn’t because Mackenzie isn’t looking for it. Which is pretty neat.

I am definitely still miffed about how “convict” ends up being synonymous with “evil” tho. Please episode 5 have one of them switch sides and be my buddy I know this won’t happen but plz. I think Mackenzie should be buddies with Vachon.

[likecastle]

Ronance Femslash February - postmarked for January

Thank you again to @marbledswissroll for the prompt “postmarked for january.” I tweaked the wording a little because I couldn’t quite work it in as it was originally phrased, but hopefully it’s close enough!

I’m accepting Ronance prompts all month for Femslash February. I have a few more prompts in my inbox, but I’ve still need a few more to get me through the end of the month, so please send them my way! Anon asks are totally fine, and you’re welcome to send more than one prompt. Don’t be shy! You can find previous prompts I’ve filled here.

Robin is putting up a flyer for the marching band fundraiser when Nancy Wheeler walks into the post office, carrying a manila envelope so carefully it might as well be the Declaration of Independence. For a minute Robin thinks they’re both going to do what they usually do when they cross paths at school, and pretend they didn’t throw a metric ton of fireworks at a monster made of liquefied people last summer, but Nancy meets her eye with a tentative smile, and Robin realizes she must want an audience for this momentous occasion.

“College application?” Robin asks, and this conversation already feels like an uphill battle. She should have just pretended not to see Nancy, or faked amnesia, or something.

“Yeah,” Nancy says, with a little shrug that Robin’s sure is supposed to seem modest, but she can tell Nancy is pleased with herself.

“Got your heart set on someplace special?” she asks, because she knows Nancy wants her to ask.

“Emerson,” Nancy says, with more starry-eyed enthusiasm than she’s ever said her actual boyfriend’s name. “My mom and I did a bunch of campus visits in September, and I just fell in love. I sort of thought I’d go to NYU, maybe Northwestern as a backup, but after I sat in on a class at Emerson, I couldn’t imagine going anywhere else. And hopefully I can get an internship at the Globe, or—” She pauses, looking charmingly chagrinned, though Robin notices that her hands are clenched tight around the corners of the envelope. “Sorry, I’m rambling.” She gives another one of those sweetly self-effacing shrugs. “Are you . . . applying anywhere?”

Robin tries not to read too much into the question, because if she did, she’d have to hear the implication that Nancy isn’t sure if Robin’s cut out for college, despite the fact that they have AP English and French Club and Trig together. Or maybe she just doesn’t think Robin’s family can afford to send her to school—which is a lot closer to the truth. She’ll be holding her breath about scholarships until April. “Just IU,” she says. “But not early decision, so the application doesn’t have to be postmarked til January.”

Nancy’s eyes widen, and if Robin didn’t know better, she’d say Nancy looks worried on her behalf. “You don’t think you should apply to a couple more schools, just in case? Not,” she adds quickly, “that I think you won’t get in, it’s just . . .”

Robin shrugs, trying for a carelessness she doesn’t really feel. “If I don’t get in, I’ll just use the money I’ve been saving for tuition on a trip across Europe. Just, you know, stay in hostels and sleep on people’s couches until my funds run out. I mean, I might do that even if I do get in.”

“Oh,” Nancy says, and her cheeks, Robin thinks, are faintly pink—from shock at Robin’s cavalier attitude, no doubt. She expects to get another little lecture about responsible choices, but what Nancy says is, “That, um . . . sounds nice.”

“Who knows,” Robin adds with a grin, “maybe I’ll bring Steve with me to be my chauffeur. Oh my god, he’d get so pissy about European traffic, don’t you think?”

“Right.” Nancy’s expression is tight, and Robin realizes too late that she’s crossed some line she shouldn’t have. “Well, I should—get this in the mail.” Nancy gestures toward the counter with the envelope, which is significantly bent at the edges now. “I’ll, um—good luck. With your application.”

“You, too,” Robin says, but Nancy is already turning away.

Robin tries to imagine it—Nancy walking with an armful of books across some perfectly-groomed campus green. Robin’s never been to Boston—never been anywhere, really—but she imagines brick buildings covered with ivy, students with sweaters tied over their shoulders talking about spending their summer vacation at Martha’s Vineyard, wherever that is. It doesn’t fill her with jealousy, exactly. It’s not what she wants for herself, but she does envy Nancy that her future seems so clear. She’s a star student applying early decision to the school of her dreams, and Robin wonders what it must feel like to be sure that she’ll get in, that she’ll be able to afford it, that she’ll get everything she wants.

[growandrecover]

i don’t know how to cope with my weight gain. I’ve gained so much weight and i feel like im constantly gaining more. Clothes from two summers ago don’t fit anymore. A pair of jeans that were loose on me fit now. I’m afraid it’s not going to stop. Im afraid I’ll just keep gaining weight. Im afraid im eating too much. Im afraid im doing something wrong by eating at all. Im afraid to stop exercising because it makes me feel worse about food. Im afraid im never going to get better and im afraid I don’t deserve to get better and im afraid im doing it wrong and I feel disgusting and uncomfortable and I don’t like feeling hungry and i don’t like feeling full and I don’t know how much I’m supposed to eat in a day and no one listens to me when I say im afraid im eating too much because they all think I’m still under eating but what if they’re wrong because they don’t know what I eat in a day and what if I keep gaining weight and it doesn’t stop I don’t want to have to replace my clothes im sorry for the rant Im having a hard time

I'm just now seeing this ask, and I'm so, so sorry! I hope you're okay, anon. Please forgive me <3

I know exactly how you feel, I really do. Here is a gentle reminder that we are not meant to fit into the clothes, they are meant to fit us. Something that helps me with these thoughts is this: I started my eating disorder when I was 16 years old. I'm 19 now, and my body is no longer the same as it was when I was 16. I look back on myself before my ed, and wish that I hadn't done what I did, but I wouldn't look like that regardless. I'm not sure how old you are, but our bodies change naturally as we get older. Even if you were only in your ed for a few months, your body could have possibly changed anyways. 14/15 year old me would not have looked the same as I do now, even without the ed, because that's how our bodies work. I won't look the same in my mid 20s, either, and that's okay.

It seems like you're still practicing some ed behaviors out of fear, and let me tell you (as someone who did the exact same thing), it won't make anything better for you. Exercise in itself is beneficial to your body, but not when you're doing it in the way we do. Not eating enough and working out is only going to delay your recovery. If you can, maybe try to limit your exercise until you can practice it in a healthy way.

I know it's hard, but if I were you, I'd listen to the people around you, especially if they don't have eds or disordered eating. If they have a healthy relationship with food, they can look at you (like they're doing) and be able to tell you honestly that you're not eating enough. Try to trust them. Your eating disorder will tell you they're lying, but they're not. You can eat freely.

Unfortunately, sometimes feeling uncomfortable and disgusting is part of recovery. We've gotten used to the way our body looks when we're hurting it, and now that we're trying to get better, we may not look the same. I felt so hideous and gross for so long, but it does get better. This ask was sent a few months ago (and again, I'm so sorry), so I hope you're doing better now.

Your weight gain will eventually come to an end, once your body can trust you again and can hold on to the weight.

And again, unfortunately, you may have to replace your clothes. But as I mentioned earlier, they're just clothes. Even if they're some of your favorite things you own, you'll find new favorites. Please don't try to maintain your lower weight to fit into your clothes. It's just fabric, and the sizes are all a joke anyways.

I really hope you're doing well, and I apologize again for taking so long to answer this. Wishing you the best of luck in your recovery, anon. You can do this. <3

[phoenixyfriend]

Padmé!

super cool character headcanons meme

This ask meme is from two months ago. Please don't send new prompts.

2-4 songs that are probably on their iPod Go for Baroque Give Me Love Too Loud Not Another Rockstar

the one place they sometimes end up falling asleep — where they’re not supposed to The office.

the game they’d destroy everyone else at I want to say poker. Her years as Queen Amidala meant a lot of time displaying no emotion and having no real affect to her voice, while also reading other people well. So, her poker face = good.

the emoticon they’d use most often 😜

what they act like when they haven’t had enough sleep Slightly more emotional? I think she's generally got a good handle on herself, but once she's back in private with just people she trusts (like the handmaidens or Anakin), she has Frustration Tears.

their preferred hot beverage on really cold nights. or mornings. or whenever. I want to say... warm cider? Not alcoholic, but just a heated space-apple cider, like the kind you can buy at autumn festivals for middle schoolers, or at the top-of-the-mountain kiosks some ski resorts have.

how they like to comfort/care for themselves when they’re in a slump Chocolates, blanket, and a romcom.

what they wanted to be when they grew up Oh, she's been in politics since she was Prepubescent. Girl is right where she wants to be.

their favorite kind of weather Warm summer day of low humidity on the Varykino lakeside, sunny and lovely for rolling down the hillside with a questionable teenage monk warrior while ignoring that said hillside might be covered in herd animal dung.

thoughts on their singing voice (decent? terrible? soprano? alto?) Ehhhh decent, but on the slightly worse side of decent. She doesn't break your ears at karaoke, but she's in the mood to have fun while a little tipsy, not show off. Also, soprano.

how/what they like to draw or doodle Swirls and half-thought outfit ideas for upcoming speeches. The outfit ideas rarely make it to the closet, but sometimes she hits on something she suggests to Eirtae.

[appreciatingtokrev]

(Hideko anon) No worries! Take all the time you need, and whenever you’re ready, I’d love to hear more about your OC!

thank you anon i swear you don’t know how much i love you <333

anon... anon i love you for this ask <33 i am kissing you on the cheek thank you!! thank you so much for asking this!! you’ve enabled my infodump button be prepared putting the stuff under the cut bc uh. i started rambling it’s quite long :'3

oookay first of all, she’s inspired by the hideko in the diary of a boy who will never be missed, a fic on ao3 that hasn’t been updated in months (i think it’s been over a year now?). it’s a fic in which hanma gets to have all of kisaki’s diaries after his death and reads through them. so he also writes about his mother (hideko) sometimes. yep the name is from there too but the author said they don’t mind using it even when i p much directly took it from their fic. wanted to mention that bc said fic is a big part of why my hideko even exists lol

the other big inspo was another fic on ao3 called mourning sickness, an absolute banger piece about baji’s mother trying to cope with the loss of her child. also wanted to mention that because reading that secured my want to actually write about kisaki’s mother and thus essentially made me create hideko

soo okay i took so long answering this that the fic abt her actually is out now help. in case you didn’t see it yet, it’s of loving men and /loving/ men and if you prefer to read on ao3 there’s also a link to that :3

anyways since you asked abt her i might as well talk hideko lore. especially bc the fanfic is kinda crypic-ish and the narrative is non-linear. so. on the 15th of november, 1970 she is born in japan. her parrnts are both fully japanese, and she grows up as an only child. her parents, especially her mother, are quite neglectful because they are both busy with their work. though they are rich and buy her whatever she wants. not that that makes it any better- when she’s ten years old, her mother gets a job offer somewhere in europe, and immediately leaves her family for the job without even thinking about it. hideko hasn’t heard from her ever since. from then on, her father makes efforts to get closer to his daughter, and to spend more time together, though hideko is as emotionally absent as her parents are at this point so while they eventually manage to build a healthy relationship, they aren’t really all that close, and hideko still holds personal grudges against her father’s neglect in her earlier childhood. still, even now she supposes that her teen years were some of the best.

the next big chapter in her life starts when she’s 16 and meets her future husband for the first time. he’s half american half japanese, and he’d just moved to japan with his parents after growing up in america, ending up in the same class as hideko, so school is how they meet. he’s a very sweet guy, and hideko falls in love with him pretty quickly. they happily start dating on the 2nd of july in 1987.

the next turning point of hideko’s life is november 15, 1987—her 17th birthday. she celebrates it all by herself because her father is at work, her boyfriend is ‘visiting his grieving mother who’d just lost her husband’ (she doubts that that’s true. she never actually finds out if it was a lie or not), and all of her (fake) friends make up excuses as to why they can’t celebrate with her. it’s an utterly sad day, and it’s when she starts realising that maybe, none of the people who claim to love her actually do.

her boyfriend proposes to her during the summer in which they’re both 19 (1990), and she says yes. even though she’s noticed that he’s not as sweet and kind as he pretends to be, but rather physically & emotionally abusive, plus neglecting to some extent. but she loves him too much.

they get married on the 2nd of july in 1991, when she’s 20. they move into a big two-story house together, even if she’s alone most of the time because her husband works overseas and thus is away most of the time. she’s actually already pregnant with kisaki tetta at this point, who then is born on january 20, 1992, with both his parents being 21.

nothing really major happens until ten years later. during those years, tetta grows up with his father physically abusing his mother and neglecting both of them, as well as his mother neglecting him, too. hideko tries to show her son that she loves him, but she ultimately fails. tetta still has a relatively decent life apart from that, he always has more than enough money, has good food, and has a big room all to himself. hideko makes sure that he’s okay, they just don’t ever really bond. it’s a kind of similar relationship to the one she had with her father. anyways, after those ten years, hideko is finally sick of her husband’s bullshit and abuse, and she pushes him down the stairs. it’s more an accident than anything else, but he dies because of the impact, and she can’t help but feel glad about it, in a way. tetta is the only other person to ever know that she killed him (although it wasn’t truly her intent, she feels some kind of satisfaction) because she tells everyone that he tripped and fell down all by himself, but tetta saw.

her life continues similarily, they’re still rich, and she still has difficulties bonding with tetta. however, she actually truly tries now. she realises he’s all she has left with her mother gone, her father and husband dead, and no other family members that she knows. tetta doesn’t want to be close to her, though, so she’s mostly just miserable.

her life greatly changes on the 22nd of february 2007, when her son gets hit by a truck and dies. she grieves a lot more for him than her husband, and while his death actually relieves her to some extent (which she feels incredibly guilty about), she’s even worse for quite a bit of time before she manages to start healing. she meets hanma at tetta’s grave sometime after he gets buried, and they sometimes accidentally meet there after that, too. in my ‘canon lore’ that’s everything about them, but i like to headcanon that they actually start meeting up on purpose n kinda become found family? idk

that’s really all the lore there is to her lol but uh. she’s about as tall as 2006 tetta, has long, dark brown hair that she usually keeps in a braid, eyes in the exact same shade as tetta, and moles all over her body, the most prominent one right beside the left corner of her mouth! she eventually cuts her her hair to shoulder length and bleaches the underside of it a few months after tetta’s death