#one day i'll re-emerge

[fisheito]

Dominant yaku works on a stamp card system. He's only allowed to dom for every 6 times he subs

[orcelito]

ITNL chapters 11 and 12 re-edits are posted !!! im rly happy with the changes ive made in these

also i dont think i mentioned but chapter 10 i wasnt expecting big changes but i. changed the bath scene. so that he doesnt have his damn prosthetic on in the bath. bc that makes no goddamn sense

Patch Notes: removed electronic prosthetic from the bath. made vash even more obnoxious (unrelated)

[moonstruckme]

the boys w a reader who's very physically affectionate? pre-relationship >:)

like none of them are dating yet, and she'd hug and kiss them on the cheeks, hold their hands on the way to class, carry their books/bags for them and lean on them in the common room and all three of them are flustered by it. bonus points if reader doesn't even know she does it, it's just how she is, and when they point it out she's like "oh.. i'll stop, sorry" and they're like "NONONONO" THEY'D BE SO CUTE

Yesssss thanks for requesting my love!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You insist on carrying Remus’ book bag to Hogsmeade for him, and he glares at James the whole way for letting slip that his shoulders have been aching all day. 

“Let me take that,” James offers for the upteenth time, ignoring Remus’ muttered “Yeah, let ‘im.” 

“I’ve got it, Jamie,” you say again, wobbling a bit under the weight of Remus’ books, far more plentiful than what you’d packed for the study session. “We’re here anyway.”

“C’mon, doll, let’s get you a butterbeer to warm up, yeah?” Sirius opens the door to The Three Broomsticks. “I’m sure Remus will buy.” 

Remus rolls his eyes. “I’ll buy Y/N one, not either of you.” 

“Spoilsport.” Sirius slides into an empty booth, and you set your load down beside him, turning around and pushing up on your tiptoes to give Remus a kiss on the cheek. 

“Thanks,” you say sweetly, and Remus isn’t a very affectionate person, but he’s hardly easily flustered either. So when his cheeks turn bright pink as soon as you’re not looking anymore, James can’t help but grin. 

“Sit by me, sweetheart,” Sirius says, setting his arm atop the booth. James thinks he views your flirting as a sort of contest, seeing who will go the farthest before someone needs to tap out. But if it’s a competition, it’s one Sirius is destined to lose. 

You slide agreeably in beside him, slipping under Sirius’ arm so readily that it drops from the booth in surprise, landing with a dull thump at your side. “Merlin, it’s cold in here,” you say, nestling close. “You think they keep it that way so you’ll buy more butterbeer?”

Sirius’ voice is pitchy and breathless. “Mm—probably.” 

James smirks at him, sliding into the safe zone across from the two of you. 

You take Sirius’ hand in both of yours, frowning and rubbing at it. “See, your hand is freezing! This is ridiculous.” 

Remus reappears with four pitchers, grinning knowingly at the shell-shocked look on Sirius’ face. “I’ll be expecting the two of you to pay me back,” he says to James and Sirius, setting them down and beginning to dig through his book bag. “Merlin, if I can finish Slughorn’s essay while we're here it’ll be a miracle.”

James blows gently on his butterbeer, trying not to watch too closely as you purse your lips to do the same. “Have you started on that already?” he asks.

Remus shakes his head, exasperated but familiar with James’ ways. “It’s due tomorrow, Prongs. You won’t be able to do it in the hour before class, trust me.” 

“Wait, the one on boggarts?” you ask, opening your own bag. Remus nods, and you hold up a small stack of parchment, beaming. “I finished this morning. Wanna see?”

“That'd be great,” Remus says. “What I really can’t figure out is the part…about…” he appears to lose his train of thought as, instead of passing the papers across the table, you disappear under it, re-emerging a second later to squeeze between James and Remus in their seat. 

“I know what you mean,” you say, as though this is all very commonplace, pressed shoulder-to-shoulder and hip-to-hip with the both of them. “The second part of the question is near impossible to understand, but I think I may have figured it out. Here, see…” James stops hearing the conversation as you duck down towards your work, your hair tickling his arm and your jumper riding up to reveal the small of your back. James’ eyes follow the curve of your spine, down, down, until—he feels like a total perv, and looks away. 

Across the booth, Sirius is looking simultaneously relieved to have a break from your brazen affection and regretful that you’re not still there with him. He watches you as you speak in low tones with Remus, his eyes flicking upwards to James as if to say this is insane, right?. James nods back dazedly. 

You finish whatever you’ve been explaining to Remus, hauling your butterbeer across the table to sip at it. “Jamie, do you want my jumper?”

He nearly chokes. “Hm?”

You look up at him with concerned eyes. “I can feel you shivering. It might be a bit small on you, but it could help.” 

James is cold, but watching you take off that jumper, smelling you on it, would be too much. He forces a smile, taking a sip of his warm butterbeer instead. “Thanks, but I’m alright.” 

You frown at him, setting your hand atop his on the table. “You sure, honey? I don’t mind. I’m feeling a bit hot, actually.” 

Whatever the look on James' face, it’s enough to make Sirius guffaw. Loudly. Even Remus snickers, tucking his tongue into his cheek. 

“What?” You look at them. “What’s funny?”

“Doll, you’ve killed him,” Sirius laughs, and James doesn’t feel so chilly anymore, all his blood rushing to his face. 

Your brows scrunch together worriedly. “What do you mean?” 

Remus chuckles, the only one of them kind enough to give you an explanation. “I think what he’s saying is, even James has a threshold for flirting. You’ve just flustered him. Don’t worry, he’ll recover.” 

“I…what?”

“C’mon,” Sirius says, rolling his eyes good-naturedly, “all the touching, the hugs, the pet names? A man can only take so much.”

“Oh, Merlin, I’m so sorry!” You clap a hand over your mouth, eyes wide with horror. “I didn’t realize—I’m just a naturally affectionate person, but I didn’t mean to flirt—well, I don’t not want to flirt with you all, but I wasn’t doing it on purpose. I’ll stop, I’m sorry.” 

Sirius blinks. “Don’t stop,” he protests. “That’s not what I meant.” 

Your confusion returns. “No?”

“No,” Remus says, some of the color from earlier returning to his cheeks. “I mean, it’s nice.” 

James nods, finding his voice again. “Flirt with us all you like, but, um…would it be alright if we flirted back?”

Your smile comes like a sunrise, slow and brilliant and beautiful. “Yeah, I’d like that.” 

Sirius grins at you, bravado restored. “Good, because we need to even the playing field, dollface. Come back over here, I’m cold.”

[writerinthewoods05]

Shadows and Snow Angels

Azriel x Reader, Azriel x child OCs

Chapter 2 - My scars won't heal

Normally when your mate Azriel comes home from the camps and asks you not to get mad it's because he brought home another wounded animal, not a baby boy...

Word count: 1.5k

💔 💘

Series warnings: past emotional abuse, past physical abuse, past emotional trauma, non explicit thoughts of suicide, depression, parental doubt, child abandonment, past child abandonment, brief talk of past pregnancy. no details mentioned, mention of non explicit SA, we die like men. Every chapter will be individually tagged.

If you don't like what your reading click off!

Author's note: ok, so I kinda his a manic a episode and now I'm writing the second chapter literally the minute I posted the first. We'll see how long it will take me to finish this one but if y'all are lucky, maybe we'll get 2 chapters in one day!

Author's note 2: lucky streak gone but at least it'll be on time. I'm gonna try to post a new chapter every Friday, but we'll see how it goes, life's kinda crazy rn.

Chapter warnings: brief talk of child abuse, Azzie is a traumatized baby, this chapter is actually more fluff than angst but still, we die like men.

Rhys opened the door, only in his pajamas with his hair sticking up in random places. It must have been a long night. Nyx just turned two a couple months ago and he was having a horrible time sleeping through the night. Rhys and Feyre took shift but everyone knew that Rhys was the one that usually stayed up with him.

"hey I'm sorry, I know it's late, or well early, but we officially have an emergency." You said while Rhys just glanced between the two of you, it took him a good second to realize that there was suddenly an extra little one with you both. Azriels shadows darted past Rhys's feet to go check if the house was safe.

"yeah come on in, I'll go get Feyre." Rhys stepped aside and let you both in before jogging tiredly up the stairs to get his mate. You quietly sat down on the couch to re adjust the little hat Elain made for Astrid, fixing it to sit on her delicate head better. You chuckled as Rhys's appearance. Who knew that out of get trapped in hell for 50 years, enduring another war and having a baby, it was the baby that finally got him. "Poor high lord."

Azriel was still standing but he seemed to be enjoying bouncing Rhain in his arms, rocking him side to side as his shadows created a Shadowy mobile above them. He chuckled softly at your comment, glance in his brothers direction before looking back to the little boy in his arms. They were practically making heart eyes at eachother, if it wasn't so late at night you might have asked Feyre to paint it.

The way Azriel interacted with children was honestly what drew him to you in the first place and the ease in the way he can calm them makes your heart melt every time. Your mate was always so still and calm so seeing him bouncing and sway your daughter and the same way he does with Rhain now, made your heart soar higher than the stars above.

You were still smiling at your mate when you heard rushed footsteps flying down the stairs. You didn't have to look up to know that Feyre was running to come see the little one. The Shadows flared defensively but calmed at the sight of their high lady.

"OK, WHERE TH-" you shushed her quickly before she woke up all three kids in the house. She was still in her night gown and her hair was tied back messily. "Sorry, where the hell did this little cutie come from!..."

You chuckled as Feyre took Rhain from your mate. He looked skeptical and basically hovered over his sister in-law as she cuddled the baby. The Shadows however, seemed content to huddle around you and Astrid on the couch, completely ignoring their masters anxious behavior.

"Az, would you calm down, she's not gonna drop him." You say barely containing your laughter. He was actually just as overprotective as the day you brought your daughter home. It was adorable.

"Oh my gods! What's his name?!" Feyre squealed quietly and came to settle on the couch next to you. Rhain was babbling softly and grabbed Feyre's finger in his small hand.

"Rhain. His name is Rhain." Azriel said, still standing next to feyre, he's hands twitching at his side, wanting to take Rhain back from her. You shook your head at his antics, he's had this baby in his care for like 2 hours and he's already acting like Mother hen.

"I'm sorry, I know it late and I know that Nyx id having issues sleeping but we don't have anything that will fit him and I decided that this officially classified as an emergency."

"No, don't worry about it at all! Not at all, no! Not at all!" She said less to you as she cooed down at your little boy before actually lifter her gaze to you and responding. "Yeah, absolutely this is an emergency. Come on I'm sure I could spare some jumpers for him, Cauldron knows that Rhys is gonna buy him more anyway."

Feyre stood and tried to walk away with the Rhian still wrapped I her arms but a wall of shadows came to block her from walking away just long enough for Azriel to take him back. Feyre just rolled her eyes and lead you upstairs, muttering jokingly to herself about Azriel being overprotective.

2 hours later you all were back at your own home, azriel settling the baby's down for bed. You had added a temporary separator in the crib just for tonight, you'll have to make a trip to the Palace quarters tomorrow for another one. Your mate had just finished building your daughter's nursery and now you're either gonna have to rearrange everything or finds another room in your home for a second nursery... Wonderful...

Once they were both swaddled, wings and all, they were out like a light before he could flip the switch. You were sitting in bed trying to read and relax but you mind was reeling from the days events. Your mind wandered to Rhain. He was so small, he still had that fresh baby smell. You had tried to explain the smell to Mor one time but she thought you were crazy, must be a mom thing. He was underweight and dehydrated from what you could tell, the poor thing could barely suckle the bottle you had fed him earlier. You were lost in thought, book discarded laying open in your lap, as Azriel came into the room, his footsteps as silently as ever.

"So how much trouble am I in?" Your head snapped up at his voice. 4 years... 4 years you had been together and he still manages to sneak up on you, you'd think you would be better at spotted him now but no. You looked up at him, you eyes locked on him as you pulled yourself from the whirlwind of questions and worries you had gotten lost in. He was leaning forward against the bed frame at the foot of the bed. His Shadows fluttered and flitted out into the room randomly as per usual when it was time for bed. It was interesting, most people thought Azriels Shadows were just extensions of him but in reality, most of them had personalities and curiosity, it was kinda cute to watch them.

"come here..." You opened your arms for him and waited as he quickly shrugged off his leathers and siphons, a few of the Shadows helping him by catching his siphons and placing them on the dresser silently. He sank onto he stomach and into your arms with a sigh. He nuzzled his face into your chest as his wings relaxed and sprawled across the massive bed.

"I'm not upset with you. I mean I would have loved a heads up that we were gonna adopt an infant today but I know that the circumstances were anything but ideal. Trust me I would have been PISSED if I found out you didn't bring him home. You are the most compassionate and empathetic person I've ever known. Thats one of the reasons I love you so much." You smile as you feel every muscle in his body melt under your hands, your fingers working out the knots from his back. He let out a breathy moan when you gently pressed your fingers into the onyx skin at the base of his wings.

"he needed me, and you. Besides your a good mama, if anyone could give him the love he needs it's you..." He lifted himself slightly to settle on top of you better, he's arms wrapping around your waist and his thighs spreading yours a bit more. You took a second to bask in the moment, your fingers tangling and brushing through his hair, a couple of shadows coming to rest on the pillow next to you. You thanked the mother for moments like this. For the times when you both could just hold each other and feel just as loved and seen as if you had spent the night making the house shake.

"Thank you... for understanding, for not being upset. You have every right to be..." azriel mumbled, his voice laced with emotion. He was right, you did have a right to be mad but you weren't. How could you ever be upset with him for being the most loving male in Prythian?! You hugged him tighter and kissed his forehead.

"Do you wanna talk about it? Whatever your thinking about?" You smoothed a hand over his back to try and comfort him. Even though you had been mated for a few years there were still secrets and things he refused to tell you, especially about his excuse of a childhood. You knew the basics, a general idea of how he was treated but he never went into details. You liked to think he wouldn't tell you because he knew you would find his half brothers and rip them to shreds, although You knew in reality it was most likely just to painful to actively try to remember.

"yeah I do, but not tonight. I... we can talk about it tomorrow, I don't want to ruin the night..." He said choosing his words carfully. Azriel easily sat up and flipped you both so you to rest against his side and pulled the covers over you both, the Shadows that had been occupying the pillow previously jumped away I'm a misty puff. You didn't press. You knew he would tell you when he was ready to open up. It made sense, that he past would rear it's ugly head after he brought Rhain home. You left a small kiss on his chest before snuggling into him and letting yourself drift off into your thoughts, the shadows descending over you both is calm wave urging you both into sleep.

Thank you so much for reading and as always I hoped you enjoyed this chapter! If you wanna be added to the tag list please comments or DM me to be added!

Taglist

@romantasyreader28 @tele86 @mulansaucey @jennnsthings @6v6babycheese @mich0731 @starlightandsouls @ohemgeewhat @littlelunatica @icey--stars @paleidiot @jir67 @celestialamore @rcarbo1 @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @queenoffeysand @suppppp97

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 3- Easier Said Than Done

Summary: Frankie's been by your side through some of the hardest moments in your life. Three years have gone by, and now there's no one you want to see less when you find yourself at your lowest.

Word Count: 4.1K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (reader has a name/nickname)

Warnings: Angst, yearning, mentions of death, sick parent, descriptions of a panic attack, hospitals, teenage Frankie's back at it again making it impossible for us to hate him!!

A/N: Hello, my name is Madeline and I am unable to stop writing gut wrenching angst and yearning. (Hi, Madeline). Maybe one of these days I'll stop sobbing like an idiot when I write, but I fear that day may not be coming any time soon

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

You, Spring of 2006, Age 17

Most people say it’s the smell of hospitals they can’t stand. For you, it’s the noise. The constant chaos of voices, monitors, sirens, carts clattering as they roll across the never ending linoleum floor drives you insane. Even when it’s quiet, it’s still never silent. There’s always an ever present reminder looming in the distance to not get too comfortable. The inevitable fear that something could go wrong, and have you wishing that all you had to listen to was the ambiance of continual pandemonium. 

That’s why it’s such a relief when you hear the quiet ping of your cell phone resting on the edge of your chair. It’s enough to drown out everything else for a little while. 

Frankie :)))))) 

Hey where r u?

Game starts soon and I cant find u 

Katie and Morgan said they havent seen u either 

R u ok?   

You

Yeah I’m ok. 

Dad passed out and hit his head. Mom wasn’t home so I had to take him to the ER. 

Called Coach K in the ambulance to tell her I won’t be there. 

It’s times like these that it takes everything in you to remind yourself that missing big events to keep your dad alive is better than going to big events without him being here. But when you’re decked head to toe in your soccer uniform, sitting on the edge of your seat in a crowded emergency room instead of getting ready to start the last game of your senior year, it’s hard not to feel a little bitter about it. 

You read back over Frankie’s texts as you wait for his response, doing the quick math in your brain before frantically typing back. 

You

Wait, didn’t you have to work tonight? Are you at the field? 

Frankie :)))))) 

Called off work weeks ago 

U really think I would miss ur last game? Cmon Kenz 

Guess its not a surprise anymore. Surprise! lol 

You hope the nurse passing by doesn’t notice the way you’re grinning like an idiot at your phone, biting down on your bottom lip to keep your smile from growing so wide it’ll hurt your cheeks. You re-read the last three texts over and over, your face growing warmer each time. You’re not sure why you’d expect anything less. It still never fails to make you feel like your heart is seconds away from bursting at the seams. 

Of course he came. 

So lost in your train of thought, you hadn’t seen a fourth text pop up across your screen, only the fifth text of “???” that preceded it. 

Frankie :)))))) 

R u at memorial or westwood hospital? 

??? 

You 

Memorial. Why? 

Frankie :)))))) 

Be there in 15 

You 

Frankie you don’t have to do that 

Frankie :)))))) 

2 L8! Already leaving! See u soon! 

The tears welling in your eyes were most definitely ones of relief, joy even, that Frankie cared enough to attempt to make it to a soccer game you weren’t even at, let alone forgo a night’s worth of pay to drive himself to the hospital to see you. 

Your momentary excitement comes to a sudden stop as onslaught of bodies rush into your room to examine your dad. You’re quick to realize you’ve once again been caught up in a stampede where you’re nothing but another person in the way. An invisible presences that means nothing to anyone in this room. It makes the once blissful wetness welling in the corners of your eyes start to sting with a vengeance. 

But you’ve come very quickly to learn that crying doesn’t help anyone, especially when you’re not the one dying. 

You try not to let it hurt when your mom doesn’t even acknowledge the fact you’re sporting the jersey of the team you were supposed to start playing with twenty minutes ago, like you had brought your dad to the hospital in your uniform because that and your cleats were the easiest thing to throw on before you called 911. It’s even harder to try not to scream at the fact she barely pays your presence any mind, not even so much as a ‘thank you’ for getting your dad to the hospital in one piece. What’s the most painful is that you’re positive that she, or anyone else, even notices you’re gone when you slip out the door.

You’re here so often that the hospital staff don’t mind that you pace up and down the rows of the waiting room. Sure, they’ll be sending you a bill for the hole you’re burning through their carpet eventually, but that’s not today’s problem. 

Right now, part of the reason for your frantic pacing is to cool off some steam so you don’t say something you’ll regret about your dad’s cancer having the audacity to ruin the most important soccer game of your life to date. 

You’re also here so often, the hospital staff know Frankie. So much so, that your favorite receptionist, Cassandra, has more than definitely broken several hospital rules to let Frankie stick around long past visiting hours when you’ve needed it most. That’s why all she has to do is give you that look to break you from your vicious cycle of pacing to let you know when he’s arrived through the sliding glass doors of the front entrance. 

Most times, he at least makes it a few steps inside before you notice him. Tonight, he’s barely halfway through the door before you’re wrapping your arms around him in the tightest hug you have to muster. He pulls you in even tighter. 

It’s then that the reality of it all starts to set in. Your best friend had to drive to meet you at the hospital because he’s the only one that remembers you have a soccer game tonight. Your dad is in a cyclical pattern of slowly dying that leaves you feeling like a terrible person for even wishing things were different. You’ve spent the past nine of your seventeen years of life only knowing a world that revolves around cancer. For nine years, you’ve never complained that this is the way your life has been. Tonight, you’ve decided that the weight of the world is un-fucking-fair. 

Tonight, you’re not the one dying, but crying seems like the only reasonable thing left to do. 

You should be embarrassed by how loud your sobs are, how quick the damn breaks once your body finally lets you give into the pain. These are the kind of tears that make your whole body shake, the ones that make your chest hurt because you can’t catch your breath, gasping for air like some poor, lifeless fish, begging to be thrown back to the sea. 

Frankie’s seen you cry before, but not like this. You should care about how your tears are staining the fabric of his t-shirt, how he’s the only thing keeping you standing while your body feels like it’s about to give out underneath you. You hadn’t said a word to each other before you’d collapsed in his arms in a sobbing heap, but right now you don’t care. You can’t. 

You’re sure words are exchanged at some point as he practically carries you out to his truck, at least giving you the decency to finish crying without unwanted eyes in the waiting room glued to you, but right now, you can’t remember. 

You’re not sure how long it takes you to get back to the point of being able to breathe at a semi-normal pace, but something tells you that Frankie will hold you for as long as you need him too, crying or not.

He gently strokes your back, his thumb tracing over the fabric of your jersey as it draws small circles over and over, a sweet and simple dance of his fingers that steadies you just enough to keep from flying away. 

“It’s okay, Kenz. It’s okay.” It’s melodic the way Frankie coos it in your ear, like he’s trying to hush a fussy baby fighting sleep. It’ll take time, persistence and patience, but lucky for you, he’s got all three in spades. “I promise you’re okay. I’m here.” 

“This fucking sucks.” It’s not elegant or graceful, but it’s the truth, and right now, it’s all your brain can process. 

“I know it is, Kenzie. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s not fair. I don’t wanna spend the rest of my life worrying that this is the last day I see him. I just want life to be normal. I just wanna go play my stupid fucking soccer game. It’s not fucking fair.” You ball your fists against Frankie’s chest, pounding into him like he’s the one responsible for your hurt and anger. He’s not the one you need to take it out on, but he’s all you have. You hope he knows it’s not his fault he’s become your emotional punching bag as he takes blow after blow, despite how weak your swings are. You’ve got no strength left to fight. 

“I know. It’s not fair. It’s not fair, MacKenzie.” 

He takes it all until you have nothing left to give. You’ve lost a game no one ever has a chance of winning. Defeat is the unwanted trophy life rewards you with, but Frankie stands at the podium with you. He’ll take the hits if it helps ease the blow. 

“Will you be okay if I’m gone for five minutes? Just five, I promise, and then I’ll be right back.” His question catches you off guard, breaking you from your agitated state, nodding your head just enough to give him the permission he needs to race back through the doors of the hospital as you climb into his passenger seat. 

His truck gives you the kind of familiarity the hospital doesn’t. It’s hard not to find irony in the fact you feel safer in his piece of junk car where the wheels could give out beneath you at any moment than you do in a building that is built for saving people’s lives. Maybe it’s because his truck is filled with the memories of moments in life that make you feel like things are going to be okay. 

With the way Frankie’s breathing as he jumps into the driver’s seat, it’s hard to think he’s not back in less than two minutes, rather than five. He doesn’t say a word to you as he cranks the ignition, only a little prayer under his breath that now’s not a time his engine has chosen to give out on him. He doesn’t let you ask any questions until you’re already on the road. 

“Frankie, what’s- Frankie what are you doing?” 

He’s got that crazed kind of look in his eyes he gets when he’s hellbent on making something happen. He always likes to say that you’re the stubborn one. It makes you wonder the last time he’s taken a good, hard look at himself in the mirror. 

“I’m taking you to your game.” 

He says it so matter of factly, like his response to nearly kidnapping you out of the Memorial Hospital parking lot shouldn’t warrant any questions. 

“What?! Frankie! I can’t just-” 

“The doctor in the room said he’s stable and he probably won’t be conscious for the next few hours anyways. Your mom said it’s fine. I’m not letting you miss out on this. You deserve to get to play, Kenz.” 

You’re not sure at that moment if you want to kiss him or slap him across the back of the head. Maybe it’s a little bit of both. 

“Frankie, I-” 

“I’ll turn around and take you back if you want me to, but I don’t think you want me to turn around.” 

God, maybe you do want to kiss him. 

“I hate you, Francisco, I hope you know that.” 

“I know. It’s okay, you play better when you’re angry, anyways.” 

It’s always the little smirk in the corner of his mouth. The one he makes when he knows he’s right. It’s the same smirk he makes when he greets you after you’ve scored two goals to help your team win the last game of your high school career. The same one he gives you when he buys you ice cream to celebrate with two scoops of cookie dough instead of one, because you won’t stop laughing at his stupid joke about your big appetite for winning. 

That night, you fall asleep on his couch, too tired to drive back to the hospital, too scared to sleep in your house alone. You’re not sure if you mean to doze off with your head resting against his thigh like some sort of makeshift pillow. It’s easiest just to blame it on the fact you’re too exhausted to get up. But as you close your eyes and drift to sleep, you’re almost sure that the only muscle Frankie dares to move is the one that pulls the line of his lips into that same smirk you’d rather die than live without. 

You, Present

You’re shocked your initial response to seeing Frankie Morales for the first time in three years wasn’t immediately slamming your front door in his face and telling him to fuck off. 

That’s what your body wanted you to do. For as badly as it did, your some part of your brain wouldn’t let you. 

It’s probably the same, stupid part of your brain that won’t let you stop staring at him, either. 

He looks good. Way better than you’d like him to. It doesn’t seem fair that he somehow manages to find a way to return home more handsome than when he left. It happens every damn time. You swear he does it on purpose. You don’t know how he could, but that’s what you tell yourself. It makes it easier to hate him. 

“I didn’t know you were home.” 

It’s probably the worst thing you could have said to break the awkward silence stewing between you, because you both know it’s a dirty lie. But at this point, you’re far past granting Frankie the privilege of being a part of the truth- you’ll give him your version of the truth that you want him to hear. You’re not letting him have the upper hand. 

“Yeah. I uh- got home this morning.” 

Good to know the best either of you could do was reduce your relationship down to nothing but lying. If that’s the game he wants to play, then so be it. 

“Drive was good?” 

“Yeah.” Lie. “You?” 

“Fine.” Lie. 

For as much as you know the lies hurt, it’s the curveball you hit him with next that you hope stings the worst. 

“I didn’t think you were gonna come.” 

Because that was the truth. The way his face drops tells you the guilt ridden punch you’ve socked him with hits exactly where you want it to. You want the truth to hurt more. You want it to hurt just as bad as the way his truth hurt you. 

“Of course I was gonna come.” 

It’s a poor attempt at a swing back. He showed up with a knife at your gun fight. He knows well enough you won’t show him any mercy. 

“Wouldn’t have been the first time you hadn’t shown up for something important, Frankie.” 

“Your dad’s fucking dying MacKenzie, what makes you think I wouldn’t be here?” 

“Well, he’s been dying for the past three years so I’m glad you’re deciding to show up when it’s convenient for you.” 

That one shuts him up real fucking fast. 

His jaw ticks as he takes a deep breath, staring up at the sky like there’s something written in the clouds that will give him instructions on what to say next. There’s not much he could say at this point that would shock you, but Frankie never ceases to be full of surprises, whether you like it or not. 

“I’m- fuck- I’m sorry, Kenz. I’m sorry.” 

That shuts you up even quicker. 

It shuts you up because you know he’s not lying. The truth is buried in the way his voice breaks at the start of your name, the way the “K” trembles off his tongue and shakes in the back of his throat. 

Your heart is mangled in your chest, hearing him say the two words you’d never thought you’d get and realizing you can’t accept it. 

“Sometimes sorry isn’t enough, Frankie.” 

Neither of you are sure what to say. It’s tough to tell if the fight is over because Frankie’s stabbed you to death and you’ve unloaded every last bullet you had, or if you decided to put your weapons down and walk away before any casualties have occurred. While it’s hard to deny it’s the latter of the two options, at least the first one would have been the honorable way to go. 

“Honey, is that Frankie at the door? Let him in, MacKenzie, don’t make him stand out there!” 

If there’s one thing you can always count on your mom for, it's that she’ll never fail to have impeccable timing, for better or worse.  

You don’t intend for the sigh you let out to be as loud as it is, but it certainly makes it clear to Frankie you aren’t happy about obliging to your mom’s request. You expect him to pass you like you don’t exist, entering your house to greet the two of the three family members who still care about him enough to not burn a hole through his chest every time they look at him, but he doesn’t. He waits for your okay, frozen on the porch until the subtle shrug of your shoulders signals you’ve given him the all clear to pass. He wants to know you’ll at least let him through unscathed for now. 

You follow behind him as he enters your house, trying to ignore the fact you’re entranced by the dark brown curls that still tickle the nape of his neck as he walks, or how the width of his shoulders nearly stretch from one end of the door frame to the other. You’re starting to regret not letting him follow you in  instead. 

You nearly bump into him with how quick he is to freeze once he sees the state of your living room. In the past few weeks, it’s made a terrible transformation from the space you once knew to a makeshift hospital room. The hospice workers had crowded your house with beds, oxygen tanks, and a wheelchair your dad refuses to sit in, an endless puzzle of enough supplies to let your father die in his own home, rather than the cold, sterile wasteland of the nearest hospital. 

You’d been able to ease yourself into your dad’s decline. You’d watched the months leading up to now as his body became weaker and sicker, reducing down to nothing but bones and deep, dark set eyes. You were a first hand witness to how cancer had greedily sucked every ounce of life he had left in him, taking and taking until he had nothing left to give. 

Last time Frankie saw your dad he was in remission. He looked good, healthy, even. That was three years ago. Frankie would have never imagined barely being able to recognize the man that was the closest thing to a real father he’d ever get. 

You want to scream at him that it’s his own damn fault he’s this shocked when he comes face to face with the shell of the man your dad used to be. But with the way you can practically see the guilt oozing out of Frankie with every step he takes towards the near lifeless body lying in the misplaced hospital bed in your living room, you can’t help but let your empathy get the best of you. 

“Hi Frankie, how are you? It’s so good to see you, honey.” 

Even though your mom knows you’re seconds away from wanting to dropkick Frankie off the face of the earth, there are few things she’ll ever let get in the way of her warm and welcoming demeanor. 

Frankie’s still borderline speechless as your mom grabs the tray of cookies he’s been awkwardly toting before she embraces him, arms still glued to his sides like he’s too afraid to move. The way she’s got him in the hug gives him no choice but to stare at the unsettling image of your dad over her shoulder, barely strong enough to turn his head to see what all the fuss is about. 

“H-hi, Mrs. Anderson. I’m okay. It’s good to see you, too.” 

“Is that my Frank the Tank? C’mere, kiddo. I was hopin’ I’d get to see you.” 

The past few weeks have made you shed enough tears to last a lifetime. Never once did you expect the thing that would make you cry the hardest out of everything you’d been through was hearing the long lost excitement in your dad’s voice upon Frankie’s return. 

It’s childish, the way you storm upstairs and slam your bedroom door behind you without a word, heat seething through your veins at the way your dad was so quick to forgive, welcoming Frankie back into his home like a day hadn’t passed, like he had been there right alongside him every step of the way through his descent. Your blood boils at the fact your father can’t be bothered to remember that Frankie had been nowhere to be found for three fucking years. Not a text, not a call, not even a “Frankie says hi!” through his mother four doors down. 

You can deal with the embarrassment of throwing a full blown temper tantrum later, but that’s more tolerable than spending another second in the same room as Frankie.  

“Well,” your dad huffs, his face grimaced with sarcasm as he looks back and forth between your mom, Frankie, and the empty presence you’d left behind, “that went well.” 

“Sorry about that, she’s um-” 

“She’s fine. Just stubborn.” Your dad grumbles, cutting off your mom with the best attempt he can make to raise his arm from the bed and wave her off. 

“No, I uh- it’s fine, I just- I should probably get going, don’t wanna take um- take up too much of your time.” Frankie’s heart sinks in the uncomfortable silence, quietly cursing himself for the mess he’s made. 

“It’s what, 8 o’clock in the morning? You got a bingo game at the senior center you need to get to, young man?” 

“No, I just-” 

“Perfect, no is the only word I needed to hear.” Your dad weakly smiles, gently patting the edge of the bed for Frankie to join him. 

Your heart winces hearing the heavy footsteps a floor below you from your bedroom, knowing the direction they’re heading is only further into your house and not back out the front door where you’d prefer him to be.

Thank goodness your dad has lost the ability to speak loud enough for you to hear the words that follow the thumps of Frankie’s feet. 

“Frankie, I’ve lived a very happy life. There are few things about it I’d change. But you know just as well as me that my daughter is the one who so lovingly inherited my stubbornness. Lucky for me, God knows I’m stubborn enough not to die until you and her figure this out. Unlucky for the both of you, that my time for stubbornness is starting to run thin.”

@chaotic-iguana @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog @itsokbbygrl

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @jolapeno @ovaryacted

@amanitacowboy @mystickittytaco @anoverwhelmingdin @greenwitchfromthewoods

@witchofthedeepwoods @ericamarie093 @readingiskeepingmegoing @whimsiwitchy @whoaitspascal87

@vickie5446 @katw474 @ravenpoe67 @inthedarkestnight @brittmb115

@harryscherrysugar @wonderpillar @sunnytuliptime @pasc4lfuzz @yesjazzywazzylove-blog

@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[delicateperspective]

McDon't Rollout Timeline

Here, let's simplify the timeline for those of you having a hard time staying caught up with the tug-of-war that appears to be going on. I'll keep my analysis to a minimum and let the facts speak for themselves, but I doooooooo have thoughts on these "coincidences." 👀

December 2024

December 21st, 2024

Louis randomly checks in on us on Twitter. No chat. Just: "Hope everyone’s doing alright! Have a good day"

December 25th, 2024

Sam and Zara spend Christmas separately, but Zara shows off gifts between the two of them on social media.

Zara reposts a TikTok saying: "When you still go to your own family Christmases" (implying they were only apart because they chose to spend Christmas with their separate families).

December 31st, 2024

Louis does a pub crawl in Doncaster wearing a Pleasures cardigan that says: "What happened to you? What happened to me? Pleasures is pain."

The tag for the cardigan says: "I can't have the one that I want."

Articles come out about Zara and Sam officially being over. Her "friends" say: "Things have been tricky for her the past 18 months."

January 2025

Sometime in January

The celebrity scout responsible for connecting Zara to Strictly Come Dancing is hired as the scout for SoccerAid.

January 4th, 2025

Tabloid articles report Zara spending NYE in Paris. Sources say: "She just wants to try to focus on work and get herself together."

January 13th, 2025 (approximately)

Harry is spotted in Germany.

January 21st, 2025

Jade Thirlwall (PR by Simon Jones) says on a podcast that Harry ghosted her after a date back in 2010.

January 28th, 2025

Louis tweets: "Hope everyone’s doing alright!" and "Big year incoming!"

January 29th, 2025

Louis attends Zayn's LA show and leaves with him.

January 30th, 2025

Despite multiple rumors and the event showcasing nearly everyone on the A*off roster, Harry does not attend FireAid.

January 31st, 2025

Walls 5th anniversary promo from Sony. However, merch is distributed through LT Merch.

February 2025

February 1st and 3rd, 2025

Harry is in Rome with Alessandro for his birthday. Rumors swirl about him and a woman with long brunette hair.

February 1st–27th, 2025

Zara is filming in Thailand.

February 3rd, 2025

Louis re-uploads Two of Us Acoustic to his YouTube but leaves off the Sony/Syco copyright.

The original version stays listed.

February 6th, 2025

Louis is in New Orleans for the Super Bowl. He goes to bars wearing a German football club jersey and posts a picture of a dartboard.

On the same day, Pleasing posts their Valentine’s Day Instagram reel featuring darts and two fish named Romeo and Julio.

February 7th, 2025

For a Super Bowl pre-party, Louis wears an "Endless Runner" shirt.

February 8th–9th, 2025

Harry is back in Berlin.

February 9th, 2025

Louis attends the Super Bowl (possibly as an ambassador for NFL UK).

February 15th, 2025

A user discovers Louis’ profile on Raya (a dating app for celebrities and influencers). This makes the tabloids.

February 18th, 2025

Louis follows Zara on Instagram.

February 26th, 2025

Articles emerge about Harry’s companies being behind in tax filings. (Note: As of this post, they are still behind, but the strike has been removed. It is normal and nothing to panic over.)

February 27th, 2025

Zara wraps filming in Thailand.

An article drops claiming that Harry’s team told him not to associate with the band. "A source told The Sun: 'Thousands of hours of blood, sweat and tears have gone into making Harry a superstar and he has spent a decade getting to a place of respect and legitimacy in the music business. He has won awards and hit new heights away from the band. Any return would be a major step back. Harry knows it already but his team have been very clear that it would be a bad idea at any point in the foreseeable future.'"

February 28th, 2025

Louis tweets 28 and hosts a launch party for the latest 28 drop.

This drop is handled much differently than previous ones:

Tons of PR around it.

A physical launch.

Journalists are invited to attend.

Interviews are done.

Louis finally admits that he remembers his tattoos were obtained to mark specific memories.

He also says clothes hold memories and likens them to his tattoos.

Dirty Blonde plays a set.

March 1st, 2025

Zara attends the Brits. Louis likes her photo.

Articles emerge about Zara being "cozied up" with Lucien Laviscount.

Louis announces a surprise pop-up show on March 6th with Dirty Blonde as the opening act. The show will support Music Venue Trust.

March 1st–4th, 2025

Harry runs the Tokyo Marathon! He is later pictured in Tokyo with friends.

March 4th, 2025

Harry is announced to be taking part in Live Odyssey to support Music Venue Trust.

March 6th, 2025

Zara appears on Loose Women to discuss her documentary.

Harry returns to London and is photographed in Soho just hours before Louis' show.

Louis performs the pop-up show in Brixton.

March 7th, 2025

Louis flies to India.

Articles begin swirling about Harry being in talks to perform a residency at The Sphere.

March 8th, 2025

Zara and Harry are seen in the same box at the Sabrina Carpenter concert at the O2 in London (with Rchel Chnouriri).

Louis likes R*chel's Instagram post about the concert.

March 9th, 2025

Louis is photographed wearing a Yohji Yamamoto x NEIGHBORHOOD T-Shirt (a piece from the WILDSIDE Yohji Yamamoto store, designed by Kunichi Nomura) and Dries Van Noten Printed Swim Shorts during an interview.

He comments that he sees everything online from a "bird's eye view."

Zara joins the live stream of a well-known Larrie.

March 10th, 2025

Tabloid articles claim fans suspect Zara and Louis are dating.

Note: All quotes are pulled from a Larry subreddit. No other sources or information online connect the two at this point.

Louis and Sam are both announced as participants in Soccer Aid.

March 11th, 2025

Tabloids speculate about a possible Soccer Aid rivalry between Sam and Louis, based entirely on the Reddit theory article about Zara and Louis.

Articles note Louis and Zara liking each other's photos on Instagram.

Harry is seen in Rome.

(I don’t blame you, babes. Get out of town during all this. Go to some art shows with your friends and let it die down before you come home.)

March 12th, 2025

Articles claim Zara purchased a new house in the same neighborhood as Sam.

The London Standard releases an article about Louis' February 28th 28 fashion drop.

The fashion brand is ridiculed, Louis is painted in a bad light, and the journalist includes quote that will later be circulated by every single media outlet possible: "I am told sternly before we sit down to, please, forgo any questions on the topic. ‘The Sun has been running a story that the boys are going to reunite at the Brits for Liam,’ a PR manager tells me. ‘Louis just despairs. He could never get up there and sing as part of the band after what has happened.’ One Direction did not perform during the awards, which took place the night after our interview."

March 13th, 2025

Harry's team denies the Sphere residency rumors.

March 16th, 2025

Articles somehow link Harry and Taylor S*ift again.

March 17th, 2025

Articles surface about Harry "not being over" Oivia Wide.

Sam appears on a podcast and makes comments seemingly shading Zara: "A lot of people look for validation in other people and they look for the next person instantly . . . It's like, 'I need to find someone else to fill that hole and I need to find that excitement.'"

Late that night, The Sun releases a paid article with three blurry photos of Zara and Louis at a restaurant.

The article claims Louis took time to take photos with fans, but no fan photos have been released.

The photos appear to have been taken from outside, peering through a window by the rubbish bins.

Fans point out several inconsistencies:

For a millionaire, the date seems cheap.

For someone who values privacy and can stay completely off the radar for months, it’s strange to be photographed.

Zara was just seen "loved up" with someone else at the Brits.

March 18th, 2025 (This was a big news day, so buckle up!)

The Daily Mail picks up the restaurant story and finds a "source" to address fans' doubts: "They have only been together a short time, but they clearly get on really well and are enjoying one another's company. They didn't want it to come out this soon – and didn't think it would. Louis made sure they went somewhere understated in the hope that they wouldn't be seen. He is an expert [at staying anonymous], and has been photographed relentlessly since he was a teenager."

Additional articles include:

A source close to Zara says about Sam: "He's a loose cannon, as we saw with his comments so soon after Zara's relationship was made public. It's really quite pathetic of him. It feels like it always has to be about him." "Zara put a lot into her relationship with Sam: she did everything she could to make it work for five years, but in the end, she just couldn't."

Information claiming Zara and Louis have been dating for "two and a half weeks" (putting the start of their relationship around March 1st).

A "former colleague" of Louis says: "This is so lovely for Louis. Liam dying really hit him hard. He was still close to him, so that was a very difficult time. Louis thought of Liam as a brother, and the circumstances around his death were just awful." "Louis has had an unfair amount of grief to deal with – so those around him have been really hoping he would find someone to settle down with. It's great that Zara understands fame like he does. Watch this space." (Note: "Watch this space" is a call to action, hinting at more stories from The Sun.)

Articles reissue claims that Zara's new house is a "love nest."

Direct quotes: "She bought it two weeks ago under her company name. It’s a two-bed flat in a nice area and, weirdly, not that far from where she lived with Sam." "Earlier this month, Zara set tongues wagging with Lucien Laviscount after they were spotted getting cozy at the BRIT Awards."

An article about Sam holding "no hard feelings toward Louis" drops: "When he meets Louis at Soccer Aid, he'll treat him like any other teammate. There's no bad blood," the source added.

An article claims Zara wants to become a pop star and is "using Louis to do so." "Her true passion—music—has taken a back seat." "A relationship with Louis would allow her to submerge herself into music and let her focus on her passion that she has neglected in recent years."

A note on this article. This is the first and only one to name the man Zara cheated on Sam with. "Formerly an International A&R Manager for Cowell’s label Syco, Zara’s ill-judged tryst with Fouradi hinted at her desire to fall for the bright lights and trappings of the music biz." (Note: I don't want to have to put this here but it's important. Fouradi is the X-Factor exec who SA'ed Katie Waisel in 2010.)

Articles about Louis insulting Love Island in the past start circulating.

The Daily Mail headline reads: "Louis Tomlinson reveals REAL feelings about Zara McDermott amid dating rumors"

The article focuses entirely on how Louis has expressed disdain for Love Island.

March 19th, 2025

Articles about Zara’s "glow-up," plastic surgery, and health journey start circulating.

The Daily Mail posts another article using only Reddit quotes about Zara being both a stunt and a Brexit supporter.

Quotes include: "I think it’s genuine" "Who knows, maybe Zara is his perfect partner."

Zara posts a video playing with her friend’s child.

Articles surface about Sam being back on dating apps after allegedly being blindsided by Zara’s romance.

March 20th, 2025

The Senior Editor of The Sun’s Bizarre (celebrity) column begins arguing with Larries on Twitter unprompted.

Without being tagged or contacted, he defends Zara and Louis, claiming: "Speculating about people’s sexuality can be harmful, and Zara and Louis are dating."

He likes a tweet that says:  "As someone yawning with this whole charade, please know my DMs are open if anyone (especially newer Larries, but anyone really) is upset or freaking out."

An article is released claiming Sam’s sister Louise once went on a date with Niall and spent the night at Louis’ home.

A full article about One Direction "affairs" is published, including the alleged connection between Sam’s sister and Niall.

A previously released article from December resurfaces, claiming Zara (or her business) is now a millionaire.

March 21st, 2025

The Sun runs an article saying Zara and Sam have gained thousands of followers since the dating rumors, while Louis has lost 80k followers.

Another article claims Zara and Sam’s friends are "taking sides."

Yet another article speculates about a "rivalry" between Sam and Louis.

March 22nd, 2025

The Sun publishes an article about a reporter receiving death threats from One Direction fans.

No new information is provided—it’s an old story being resurfaced for no apparent reason.

March 23rd, 2025

The Sun runs two articles:

One about Sam’s "boys’ trip."

Another about Zara walking to the gym.

Both heavily reference her rumored date with Louis and how hard Sam is taking the breakup.

The Sun makes an error in an article, claiming Zara had "met Louis’ parents."

(Note: Louis’ mother passed in 2016, and his father is not in his life.)

The article is quickly corrected to say she met his "family": "Zara has already met all the family, and they can tell that she has made Louis giddy. It's the first time in a long time that they have seen him happy."

The source adds: "They think Zara is super wholesome and health-conscious, so they are happy he is with someone who shuns the party life." (Note: Over the past few years, Louis has mentioned doing yoga and eating more seafood—similar to Harry’s pescatarian diet and yoga practice. It seems like they need an explanation for this rather than the obvious.)

Sam’s Raya profile makes it into the tabloids.

March 24th, 2025

A letter signed by Harry (along with others, led by Ed Sheeran) urging the UK government to fund music education is released.

March 25th, 2025

Louis posts pictures from inside Real World Studios, where George Michael and Harry have previously recorded.

March 26th, 2025

A full minute-long clip of Harry’s Two Ghosts music video (from 2017) is leaked online. (Note: This isn’t the first leak, but it’s the longest one so far.)

March 28th, 2025

All of Those Voices begins uploading clips of the documentary to TikTok in small parts.

Originally planned as 14 parts, it’s later extended to 28 parts.

March 31st, 2025

The Sun runs an article on Briana and Freddie for the first time in years.

It’s an exclusive behind a paywall, featuring photos of Briana and Freddie grocery shopping (Freddie’s face is blurred).

The article appears to be sourced from Briana herself.

It mentions Briana was 28 when she got engaged to her former fiancé (unrelated) and posted: "10 years of knowing you, and I knew all along you were my soulmate. I love you!"

The article also notes she gave birth in 2016 at age 23—an inconsistency that fans pick up on immediately.

April 1st, 2025

On the third anniversary of As It Was, Louis posts “Favorite” by Fontaines D.C.—a song about loving someone for a long time despite all the changes around you. (Note: Harry is a huge Fontaines D.C. fan, attended their show, and celebrated their win at the 2024 BRITs.)

Louis posts an Instagram story of a guitar by a pool, which is deleted after 10 minutes.

Important details about the photo:

It was apparently taken in Malibu in October (before Liam passed).

The rental was unoccupied that day.

The guitar is covered in sharpie drawings, seemingly in Louis’ handwriting. Symbols include:

28, 1991 (his birth year), smiley faces with X’s for eyes, the anarchy symbol, 369, the Eye of Providence (also seen on Harry’s leather journal during 1D), a #5 tally mark (same as his tattoo), a skull, a tornado, the words why and yes, an asterisk, a question mark, and his initials, LT.

Zara posts pictures of her family holiday in Dubai.

April 2nd, 2025

The Sun releases an article titled: "Inside Louis Tomlinson’s unbreakable bond with the woman who has supported him through unthinkable tragedy – & it’s not Zara."

The article focuses on his sisters.

Louis likes an Instagram post by a random man with very few followers. The caption reads (in Spanish): "Silence can say or express much more 😎"

The man had accidentally tagged Zara instead of a company called Zara.

Louis’ like is removed after fans notice and post about it on Twitter.

Harry is papped walking around London.

Articles speculate about Sam growing close to another reality show star.

Don’t Worry Darling is released on Netflix.

All of Those Voices TikTok account uploads the 4:15 clip of Louis with Freddie from the documentary.

Briana unfollows Louis on Instagram.

April 3rd, 2025

Sam Thompson reveals he’s co-parenting cats he shared with Zara McDermott—while "growing close to" another reality star.

Harry is pictured in London again.

Louis tweets and chats with fans, sharing the following:

"Fountain DC" (spelled wrong, but clearly referencing Fontaines D.C.).

"We’re waiting for LT3 (his next album)" — "It’s cooking."

"Like medium rare or well done?" — "Medium rare. Cooked to perfection."

"Any hints/lyric tease from the album?" — "Yeah."

"Describe the vibes of the new album" — "Sunny." (Likely referencing the Malibu guitar photo.)

"High in California vibes?" — "Always."

"With a sprinkle of?" — "Chaos."

"Give me a word that you use in one of your songs." — "You." (Note: Back in 2017, Louis posted the word “Always” on Twitter and captioned an Instagram post with “you” at the same time—hinting at the song Always You. It seems like he’s referencing that here as well.)

"Are you feeling ready for Soccer Aid?" — "Not yet but I will be. Need alllllll the support I can get though." (Note: There are 7 L’s in this.)

"Any advice for a bad day?" — "Don’t just assume tomorrow will be a bad day too. Who knows what the future has in store for you!"

"Can we expect any collabs on this album?" — "I was hoping for one maybe, but nothing has come up yet that makes sense."

April 7th, 2025

Articles resurface about interviewer Dan Walker once receiving death threats from One Direction fans back in 2020.

(Note: These threats happened after he inappropriately grilled Louis about losing his mother and sister. No new information is provided, and there’s no apparent reason for this story to be resurrected now.)

Articles claim Harry is "deeply hurt" by Taylor R*ssell moving on.

April 8th, 2025 (US Time)

Louis posts an Instagram story from a Stereophonics concert.

The lyrics playing are from "Maybe Tomorrow," a song Louis once tweeted about in 2021.

The clip shows the lyrics: "Maybe tomorrow I'll find my way home."

Zara also posts an Instagram story from the same concert, tagging the band and the venue.

Articles report that Barnett has approved Harry’s long-planned renovations to merge his Hampstead Heath houses.

April 9th, 2025 (so far)

UK tabloids pick up on Louis and Zara’s Instagram stories about the concert.

They incorrectly use pictures from Zara’s recent Dubai holiday as if they were taken in LA.

Pap photos of Harry in London surface, showing him wearing Dries Van Noten Suede Sneakers.

An Instagram story from Kunichi Nomura shows Harry and Kunichi together in Tokyo in early March.

Articles about Olva W*lde began circulating, focusing on her role in a new episode of a TV show as a director caught in on-set drama reminiscent of the Don’t Worry Darling fiasco.

Louis’ sisters, Daisy and Phoebe, are announced as supporting members (not players) for Soccer Aid.

Final Thoughts as of Now

Reverse-Engineering the Narrative: PR Goals

Rebuild Louis’ Public Image

Focus on presenting Louis as approachable and mature, highlighting his journey of overcoming tragedies, fighting as the underdog, and being a responsible brother.

Shift public perception away from the "teeny-boybander" stereotype to a more grounded, independent artist.

Leverage a Fabricated Rivalry Between Louis and Sam

The supposed rivalry generates free publicity for Soccer Aid while positioning Louis as a central figure in the event.

Zara’s previous relationship with Sam adds layers of drama to keep the story alive.

Boost Zara’s Career

Zara benefits from the association with Louis, gaining access to his fanbase and increased media coverage.

The narrative about Zara wanting to become a pop star and Louis "helping her" aligns her with a larger career trajectory.

This arrangement also provides Louis’ PR team with a "safe" and heteronormative pairing to push.

Drive Engagement Through Easily Shareable Drama

Stories about blurry date photos, Zara buying a "love nest," Sam shading Zara, and the "rivalry" between Louis and Sam are classic tabloid tactics.

These stories spark online debates, generating clicks and keeping both Louis and Zara trending, even if the narrative feels contrived.

Negative attention (e.g., fans doubting the relationship) still serves its purpose by maintaining relevance for both parties.

Connect Harry to Every Ex-Girlfriend He’s Had 

Articles linking Harry to Taylor S*ift, Oivia Wi*de, and others are a transparent attempt to push a heteronormative narrative.

Make One Direction Fans Look Dangerous and Irrational

Resurface old stories of "death threats" against journalists, like Dan Walker, and amplify fan theories as though they’re harmful. 

This frames fans (especially Larries) as unhinged, discrediting their ability to question the PR narrative.

Expand Louis’ Appeal to a Broader Audience: 

The association with Zara makes Louis more appealing to casual fans or those outside his core audience, particularly those who follow Zara’s reality TV background.

This helps Louis appeal to a more mainstream audience, positioning him as more than just a musician but as a cultural figure with crossover appeal.

Breaking the PR Narrative

The Tabloid Error About Zara "Meeting Louis’ Parents" (March 23rd)

The story originally claimed Zara met Louis’ parents, despite his mother passing away in 2016.

Timing of Leaks and Posts

Louis’ Instagram story posts (e.g., Fontaines D.C., the Malibu guitar) subtly allude to Harry rather than Zara.

Louis’ "Need alllllll the support" Tweet on April 3rd

7 L’s in this tweet.

Coordinated Symbolism with Clothing

On March 9th, Louis wears a Yohji Yamamoto x NEIGHBORHOOD shirt (from a store designed by Kunichi Nomura).

On April 9th, a photo surfaces of Harry with Kunichi in Tokyo, taken back in early March.

Louis Wearing the Endless Runner Shirt at the Super Bowl (February 6th)

Louis wears a shirt reading "Endless Runner" during a Super Bowl pre-party. Just days later (March 1st–4th), Harry runs the Tokyo Marathon.

Briana Unfollows Louis (April 2nd)

Briana unfollows Louis the same day All of Those Voices uploads a clip of Louis with Freddie to TikTok.

Briana and Freddie Article Inconsistencies (March 31st)

An article about Briana and Freddie mentions “She gave birth in 2016 when she and Louis were just 23 years old.” And then immediately mentions the caption of her old engagement post to ex-fiance (only 5 years later) “Briana was 28 at the time and wrote on Instagram. “10 years of knowing you and I knew all along you were my soulmate”. The timeline doesn’t add up, undermining the credibility of the story.

Yes, I left all of the blue-greening out of this because: A. There was a lot of it. B. I know several of us don't consider blue-greening signaling anymore.

A collection of sources:

Jade Thirlwall

Harry's team told him not to be associated with the band.

Harry runs the Tokyo marathon!

Harry being in talks to perform a residency at the Sphere.

Fans speculate about Louis/Zara

Articles about them liking each others photos on Instagram.

Harry's team denies the Sphere rumors.

Articles somehow weirdly link Harry and Taylor S*ift again.

Articles about Harry not being over O*ivia Wi*de.

The Sun releases an exclusive (paid) article

Spotted getting cosy at the BRIT Awards.

Zara wants to become a popstar

Articles about Louis insulting Love Island

Articles about Sam being back on dating apps after being blindsided by Zara's romance.

Another article about the rivalry between Sam and Louis.

Zara walking to the gym

Sam's Raya profile

A letter Harry signed

The Sun runs an article on Briana and Freddie

Inside Louis Tomlinson’s unbreakable bond with woman who has supported him through unthinkable tragedy – & it’s not Zara

Articles about Sam growing close to another reality show star.

Don't Worry Darling is released to Neflix.

Articles come out that interviewer Dan Walker once received death threats from One Direction fans back in 2020.

Article saying that Harry is deeply hurt by Taylor R*ssell moving on.

Articles are released saying that Barnett has approved Harry to merge the houses he has in Hamstead Heath and finally begin the renovations hes been planing for years.

UK tabloids pick up on the Instagram stories. They incorrectly use pictures of her recent Dubai holiday as pictures of her in LA.

Pap photos of Harry

Olv*a W*lde stars as an director caught in on-set drama reminicent of the DWD escapade in The Studio.

[am-i-interrupting]

Can’t Go Back | Silco x Reader

Chapter 2 | Dragon’s Hoard

Summary: You had a long, complicated history with Silco before he became the Eye of Zaun. You thought you’d buried it a long time ago. It all starts to re-emerge from the ground when Vander dies and Powder is found in the hands of Silco.

You weren't always one of Babette's little pride.

Once, some long years ago, you worked down in the mines. The air was thick, you'd have to swallow it down your lungs and still you'd gasp as you did it. It'd blur your vision. The soot mixed in would sting your eyes.

You didn't think back to those days much anymore or rather you tried not to. The past would always be a part of you, it made you. You just didn't like to think about it. You'd never forget it though.

You always felt like you were dragging. You weren't walking home when you left those mines, you were dragging a body and it ached. The joints cracked, the muscles throbbed, the chest weighed down heavy.

You felt like that now.

You shook Powder awake merely an hour ago. She groaned and looked up at you with blurry eyes filled with sleep. She rubbed them and blinked several times as her vision cleared.

"Let's go," you told her. "I'll take you to my place for a little while and then we can do whatever you want."

You thought maybe the extra bribe would cheer her up but her brows furrowed.

"I don't want to leave," she said.

You blinked several times, reeling from shock. You squeezed her shoulder.

"Powder, we've gotta go," you said. "Ekko misses you. He's worried sick. Don't you want to see him?"

She wrapped her arm around her torso and looked away. She shook her head. “I'm not. . . ready. Tell him I miss him?"

“Pow—“

"She's been safe and healthy with me for the past four months," Silco said as he entered the room with three steaming drinks. He placed one blue mug with a silver, scale patterned handle in front of Powder and she took it immediately. "I think she'll be able to survive a bit longer. Coffee?"

"You gave her coffee? She's ten." you said.

"Hardly too young, but no," he replied.

"It's hot chocolate," she said. She stretched her hands out towards you, mug cupped in them. “Want some? It's really good."

"No, thank you, Powder,” you said, causing her to halt her movements as she brought the mug back to her but she shook her head and pulled it close to her chest. "Are you sure?"

She nodded her confirmation.

You worried the inside of your lip. Then pressed those same lips to her temple and ruffled her hair.

"I love you, kid," you told her.

You got up, glared at Silco who gave you a false look of innocence.

“You better take care of her,” you said with a finger digging into his chest.

“I plan on doing little else.”

You left, somehow believing him.

That is how you got to where you were now, wandering around the streets, thinking of how you were going to tell Ekko that Powder didn't want to see him right now when you couldn't even process that she felt safe with Silco.

“You were gone all night, you had us worried." Babette said as you walked into her office. You slumped down with defeat into one of her couches. "What happened? Did you find her?"

"Yeah, it was her," you said.

Babette didn't pry with words. She sighed as she stood and asked someone in the hall for something. You weren’t able to catch what.

"Ekko was caught trying to sneak after you," she said, now leaning in the entryway. "You should go see him. He cares about you-“ someone came in with two cups- “Thank you, sweetheart. He cares about you more than you know. It'd put him at ease."

She handed you a teacup, small and delicate. It was made of a white base painted with pink lines.

You took a sip from it.

"I don't know what to tell him," you admitted. “I don't know how to tell him. Powder is right there. He finally accepts that maybe we won't ever find her or Violet and now Powder is here and she doesn't want to see him.”

"Is it really better he thinks she's dead?" she asked. "Does he deserve that pain?"

There was a flash behind your eyes of a woman with dark skin and light hair tainted red.

"Of course not. He doesn't deserve any of what's happened to him. He shouldn't have to lose as many people as he had and neither should she,” you said as you sagged into the cushions.

Silence stretched between the two of you.

Your eyes went to the walls covered in masks. You focused on one in particular.

It was a mask, made of copper.

Engraved were little swirls and detailing for the skull. A pair of ears were at the top of it, pointed upward. The nose was long and angled but perfectly fitted to your face. A fox skull mask, old but so well taken care of. Almost chaotically, a blue color was smattered along the mask and dipped into the crevices, sinking into them and providing a contrast to the copper.

You finished your cup and set it down as you stood. You reached for it. It hadn't been put on the wall too long ago and already it was being taken down again.

“Maybe we can prevent that," you said. "Can't make people not get addicted to whatever the hell Silco out in the waters but... He's got money and money buys muscle and more muscle for him means less for us and that means we lose."

Babette reached to place her hand on your arm.

“Do what you have to do," she said softly, voice free of judgment.

"I just want to protect my kids."

"I know.”

"We're losing anyway."

"We are.”

You turned your head towards her. “You're supposed to be talking me out of this."

"I would be if you were being stupid,” she said before she patted your arm and walked back behind her desk. "You should take to wearing it again. It suits you.”

The door to your apartment creaked as it opened.

You never got it fixed. You weren't sure you ever would. Far too paranoid, especially these days. It was an old comfort.

Ekko looked up immediately. He put down the tools he was using to fix up an old music box you had tucked away and ran towards you. He wrapped his arms around your torso and shook your footing with the force of his hug.

“Where were you?" he asked, burrowing his face into your clothes.

You hugged him back, rethought the words you'd been thinking over for the past half a day.

"I got a tip on Powder," you told him.

You could feel his breathing halt. He stiffened at the words. You expected nothing less. In contrast, you actually expected more.

"Was it real?" his voice cracked with the words.

“Yeah, yeah, it was."

He pulled away from you to look up at your face. For the first time in four months, you saw real hope in his eyes.

"Where is she? Why isn't she here?"

"She is with an -" a little, half white lie couldn't hurt too badly- "old friend. She's okay but she doesn't want to talk right now. I think she's still processing everything but maybe soon."

He nodded. "Okay, okay. What about Vi?"

"We still don't know, little man." you told him.

His face didn't crumble but that little spark of hope flickered, dimmed for a moment.

"How's your progress?" you asked, changing the subject with a gesture towards the music box.

He inhaled sharply and his lips thinned into a pale line as he clamped them between his teeth for a moment. He took your distraction willingly.

“What'd you do to that thing?" he asked. "This should have been a day's fix, maybe two. I've been working on it for nearly a week and it's still not done! You throw it into a wall or something?"

"Something like that."

He gave you a look filled to the brim with judgment. "Why would you do a thing like that? I thought you were supposed to be responsible?"

“Are you going to criticize me or are you going to fix it?” you asked him.

"I can multitask," he said. “Seriously though, what the hell did you do to it?"

You walked over to the half fixed box. “It was a gift from an ex" you told him. “We split and I had a couple drinks too many."

"You're not a violent drunk" he said as he grabbed his tools and sat down.

"No, I'm not." you said.

"So?"

"So, what?" you said as you sat across from him.

“What happened that was so bad you broke it?" he asked.

You sucked in a breath. “That is a story for when you’re older.”

His brows furrowed as he examined you with careful eyes. "You never say that."

"Well, I'm saying it now." You reclined in your chair. "What do you want to eat tonight? You wanna cook something or order out?"

He didn't look up this time as he simply shook his head softly with a small smirk beginning to crawl into his lips. "Is that even a question?"

Yeah, no denying it. You made the right call. He was too good of a kid to lose anything else. They all were.

You wrapped your arm around his shoulders and guided him out of the apartment.

“She misses you,” you told him.

“I miss her too,” he said as he let his body lean against you for support.

It was a support you would always provide. You’d provided it for years before now and would continue to do so.

You had loved Ekko since before he was even born, just like you’d done with Powder and Vi. You loved Claggor and Mylo the moment they stepped into your life.

You loved all your kids.

A memory came to you.

Fari dressed in a loose, yellow dress covered with an oversized brown jacket. Her white hair was put into dozens of braids, some framing her face as bangs, others pulled up into a thick ponytail, most of them having some metal beads on them.

She was sat back in a plush chair. Her hands were dangling in her lap, completely limp between her knees.

“What am I going to do?” she asked herself softly.

“About what?” you asked as you were coloring in your waterline.

She flinched, like she hadn’t noticed you were there. You raised an eyebrow towards her in the mirror in concern.

Her eyes flickered away from yours. She spaced out for a moment. Her gaze was on the floor in front of her.

Her fingers twitched. She spoke, “I’m pregnant.”

Your head immediately whipped around to her causing the lipstick you’d been putting on to smear across your face.

“What?”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“Do you know who the dad is?”

“No!” she said. Her voice dropped as she leaned closer to you, “I didn’t even think I could get pregnant.”

You placed your hand on top of hers. “We’ll figure something out, okay?”

She squeezed your hand like a lifeline, much like you were doing to her son now. Only you were holding his hand so tight so you wouldn’t lose him in the crowd.

“Hey, Jericho,” you said as you walked closer to the vender. The man sent a smile over his shoulder as he rolled some fish over a grill. “What do you want, kid?”

“Can we get some legs and calamari?” Ekko asked.

“Legs and calamari,” you echoed back to the man. It took but a moment before two boxes were slid over to the two of you. “Thank you, kindly.” You placed the hold on the counter where it was quickly scooped up.

On the walk back to the apartment, you stopped and grabbed a bottle of scotch. You knew it wasn’t the best idea but hell, you’d have a rough couple months.

You uncorked the bottle with your teeth. You got it out from between your jaws with two fingers that weren’t wrapped around the neck of the bottle and pocketed it. You took a swig and sighed as the deep, earthen tones burned your throat. With your next inhale it was a welcomed icy feeling that replaced the burn.

“Can I try?” Ekko asked.

You looked down at him with a raised brow. You let your head to tilt to the side as you told him, “You’re not going to like it,” but still gave him the bottle.

With the hand not holding your own, he brought the bottle to his lips, shoving the boxes of food beneath his arm.

His brows shot up and his lips curled backward. He quickly turned away and spat the liquid onto the street causing several people to yell as they jumped away.

“Gross,” he croaked out.

You took the bottle back with an amused smile.

“How do you drink that?” he asked.

“You learn to love it,” you answered simply.

“If I have to learn how to, I don’t think it’s worth loving,” Ekko said.

You laughed lightly at that. “One day, I’ll make you a daiquiri. You’ll like that better.”

“Uh-huh, yeah, sure,” he said, sarcasm lacing his words.

“You will,” you assured him.

Back at the apartment, the food was quickly devoured by the two of you. It was still warm and greasy and left a slight film in your mouth after eating it but exactly what you needed. It was a comfort.

Ekko took one leg and more calamari leaving you to finish off the other two legs and the leftover calamari in the box which was mostly just crunchy, cooked batter.

The entire time you were sipping on your scotch. You drank straight out of the bottle. Not a classy habit but you weren’t in public and you were the only one in the house who was going to drink it so it didn’t really matter.

You felt lose. It felt like oil had been poured on all your joints, your muscles, even your eyelids with the way it felt so easy to just let them close.

Ekko’s arms wrapped around you. You started but didn’t hesitate for a second to wrap your own around him.

You heard him sniffle. You opened your eyes only to see the world blurred. That’s when you realized that there were several streaks down your face, some warm, others turning cold.

“We’re gonna be okay,” you told him. “She’s gonna be okay too.”

Ekko nodded against your shoulder, smearing some tears against your neck but you didn’t mind.

Silence befell the both of you and stretched over several long minutes. Neither of you dared to let go of the other.

It was a relief to find Powder but it was a sting of pain to not have her with you. Until you had her for longer and Ekko got to see his best friend again, it wouldn’t sink in that she was truly alright. That you hadn’t lost everyone you loved dearly that night.

Ekko pried himself away from you. The back of his hand went to wipe underneath his eyes. He sat.

Both of you looked at the wall before you. A bookshelf was pressed against it harboring several books, a lot of records, and a couple knickknacks.

“I can’t fight this battle anymore,” you told Ekko. “I’m getting old. I’m tired. I’ve got to take care of you and Powder. I can’t do it anymore. No more late nights. No more coming home with the shit beat out of me. I promise.”

All the boy beside you did was nod.

It wasn’t long before he was picking up a screwdriver and your music box.

You kept nursing your bottle of scotch. You didn’t fight the memories that came to you.

“One scotch on the rocks for you,” you said as you pushed a glass towards Silco.

He bowed his head in recognition and thanks as he picked it up. He had a notebook that he was writing away in. You spotted a couple drawings of what looked like fans.

“Whatcha working on?” you asked him.

“Felicia and I have been trying to come up with a way to get ventilation into the mines,” he said.

“That’s really fucking needed,” you said.

“I know, that’s why we’re doing it.”

“Harhar, no need to be a smartass. I was just trying to make conversation with you because you tend to make it next to impossible.”

For the first time that night, his eyes looked up at you. A gorgeous sea foam green that made your eyes widen just a bit and your ear twitch for a second as you fought to keep a straight face.

In the several weeks you’d worked at The Last Drop, Silco had never looked at you head on. His head was always slightly downturned, always occupied with one thing or another.

“I don’t make it impossible,” he said. “We talk almost every time I’m here while you’re working.”

“Oh, yeah, because it’s such interesting shit we talk about. ‘Hey, Silco, what would you like today?’ ‘A scotch on the rocks’— sometimes you make it interesting and go— ‘with a twist this time.’ ‘Alright, here’s you’re scotch.’ and sometimes, sometimes you won’t just bow your head in thanks you’ll actually say it! What thrilling conversations we have!” you said, absolutely taking the piss by doing a downright awful impression of Silco’s sooth, sultry voice.

Silco’s brows furrowed just a hair and his lip quirked up in the tiniest show of a smile. He shook his head, bangs rocking from side to side as he did.

A part of you believed that was the man he still was, buried deep down. A part of you was probably naive and holding onto what should be a long dead belief in people’s ability to be good.

It was something that should be gone, living down in the Lanes. The Undercity was full of crooks and thieves and downright despicable people.

You knew that well. Everyone down here did.

You also knew it was full of people with caring souls, good advice, sweet words, and sweeter actions. It was a place of community and strength.

No matter what happened, everyone banned together.

If Piltover wanted it to be an us vs them society, that’s what it would be. The relationship between the two places more unstable and more toxic than the mines and the air within them.

The Undercity was filled with people you cared about, even if most of them were gone. There were two right in front of you but you couldn’t reach out far enough to touch them.

Powder was now more traumatized and scared than ever. Why wouldn’t she come with you? She clearly missed you and Ekko. You’d helped raised the girl since she was born.

Sometimes it was easy to forget that Silco had too. He’d been there the day Powder was born, pacing from side to side as Felicia screamed in the other room.

He had been there nearly every day that you had until she was five years old. Until that day on the bridge that you loathed to think about where you’d never seen him again until yesterday.

There was some part of the man you knew in there. You felt it. You hated that you did.

Why couldn’t it just be easy? Why couldn’t he just have changed completely until you didn’t recognize him at all. Not physically, not mentally, not a damn thing to be seen of the man you knew.

Five, almost six years without seeing him and he was so different but still the same. You supposed you probably were too.

“Shit!” Ekko swore as he struggled to keep the screwdriver in place.

You’d grown softer with these kids. If it weren’t for them, you’d probably still be. . .

Who the fuck were you kidding? No matter what happened as soon as you were faced with Silco again, you probably still would have surrendered.

You weren’t strong enough to hate him truly. No matter how much your mind was telling you that you should be.

[scarapanna]

The main premise and events in the Intertwined Opposites AU

It's finally here!!!

I've managed to finally make a proper info post for my personal take on this silly possession AU craze as I've planned to do for a while since I'm totally normal about this concept (lie) /silly

Before proceeding, keep in mind that this post is gonna be pretty long as I'll be diving into important story events troughout the first half of it, so it gets the read more treatment as usual!!

There will be no crk spoilers here (except for the beast-yeast episodes), just a ""prologue" to current narrative events in the AU

[[Little edit but there now are some ref sheets for both Shadow Milk and Pure Vanilla!!! They can be found here]]

•The beginning•

Everything starts in beast-yeast, once peace has been returned to the fairie kingdom

Now that the area is mostly free from danger with the silver tree's seal being properly mended, the crowd decides to start repairs and preparations to further celebrate everyone's victory for the remainder of the day.

However, as everyone starts to leave the area, something starts creeping out from the shadows created by the tree's roots

Turns out that Shadow Milk, now severely weakened from the blow taken in battle, has managed to flee from being forced back into his prison once more.

During Lily's blast of magic, he essentially "split" and discarded part of his own power as a last resort, separating what was already being sucked into the renewed seal from himself to avoid getting dragged into containment once more.

Unfortunately for the beast, both his panicked and sloppy procedure combined with the added strenght of the new guardian's spell left him with a very poor amount of strenght, with it not being enough for anything useful.

Needless to say, his mind is filled with hatred and anger as soon as he emerges

he can't really do much with this state, and thus lingers on formulating a plan to get what he wanted from the start, but how?

How would he get back on track, rid himself of the guardian, and break the seal once more like this?

The answer eventually comes to him, just right on top of a bridge alongside the one who restored his prison.

His souljam, the one he was once the owner of

Now "purified" and held by Pure Vanilla, it binds the two together with the virtue of knowledge, split in the lights of truth and deceit during the purification process.

These lights are owned by the beast, and the figure by the bridge in front of him, yet come from the same thing.

Shadow Milk has finally decided on a proper plan.

◆ What comes after and what it leads to ◆

Days pass, turning into a few weeks and ending with a trip back home to take a break and write down what happened during the beast-yeast expedition.

Everything seems to have gone well in the end, yet something still feels..wrong?

It's not the best term for it, but does the job well enough.

The vanilla kingdom is peaceful, and Pure Vanilla's return safe and sound brings back some joy to the citizens.

Yet it just doesn't feel right, he doesn't know what precisely, but the ancient is riddled with an odd feeling almost like being watched.

He might not realise it for now, but he had been right. Someone has been following him inside the castle for the entire duration of the trip.

Pure Vanilla slowly grows more wary as days pass, and his doubts are confirmed as Shadow Milk's idea is proven successful.

In the void Pure Vanilla is confronted by Shadow Milk cookie, he spills everything he's done without esitating twice, as there's no reason to hide it anymore.

Shadow Milk had always been there ever since the re-sealing of the tree, following Pure Vanilla and draining magic at a slow enough rate to not be noticed, until it was enough to take over his body without trouble.

Now that he had a "vessel" to work with, he could keep recharging power and be finally able to do his bidding.

He's questioned multiple times by Pure Vanilla, but he wouldn't budge, and the ancient manages to gather only their location and a few loose details.

This was not a void, this was a ""mind space"" where he was bound to stay while shadow milk used his body as a disguise, and he could not use magic to fight back against the beast.

Being out of options, Pure Vanilla quickly tries to think over what to do, and lingers over the situation to come up with something.

Shadow Milk proposes an idea to Pure Vanilla, sharing the vessel that both are confined in, to be sure he doesn't get caught.

This is only to one condition: the ancient must work in favour of the beast under it's watchful sight at all times

The Ancient complies, and a deal is sealed.

It's not a loss nor a victory, only a beginning

◆The current situation◆

Now that the main prologue is set, what happens precisely to both?

So, Shadow Milk cookie is essentially ""possessing"" Pure Vanilla, but not completely.

The two switch up control of the ancient's body in certain times of the day and night, sometimes Pure Vanilla is granted the lead and when he's not needed Shadow Milk takes it. He's pretty much using the ancient as a puppet, a disguise and a tool for his own gain, assigning him certain tasks so that his plan will work as intended.

Whenever one of them is not in control of their shared ""vessel"", they're send in the mindspace until the shift of control takes place and so on. Shadow milk never gives Pure Vanilla full "freedom" or personal space, having control of the shifts in lead and constantly keeping the ancient under watch trough mirrors and reflective surfaces (The only moments in which he's given alone time is when the beast is asleep in the mind space to retain magic).

The ancient, on the other hand, accepted Shadow Milk's offer right away without esitation, but for a much different reason.

Pure vanilla is trying to get the best out of his situation, and thus feels forced to go against his own morality to keep cookies safe and attempt to alarm them trough hints and hidden messages scattered in the kingdom.

Even if he doesn't like the means, what else could he do to keep everyone safe?

The difficulty of his situation causes him great stress and paranoia, which worsens as time goes on and Shadow Milk regains his powers bit by bit, making his actions more difficult to get away with unnoticed.

Here's some more info regarding the effects of sharing a vessel in two:

• Pure Vanilla and Shadow Milk's connection by souljam makes sharing a body possible, otherwise it would be fatal to most cookies (As they're not made to be vessels).

��� The slit in the souljam is a shared element which hints at Shadow milk's presence in both, during control shifts it flickers in different shades of gray.

• Remaining on the topic, control shifts are not plesant in the slightest to both parties involved, being defined by acute physical pain on the area covered by the souljam. This is inflicted on the current cookie in charge of the vessel during the shift, fading away only when back in the mindspace.

•The two can see eachother and comunicate trough reflective surfaces, with them displaying the current entity in the mindspace instead of the one leading the vessel.

• Pure Vanilla's voice sounds somewhat overlapped or distorted when shadow milk is in charge of his body, he can't change this aspect unfortunately for him.

• Certain factors like hunger and thirst are shared between the two due to their predicament, they can sometimes be heard debate over what to eat and when during the day.

• Sleep in the traditional sense is the only factor distinct to the two instead of being shared, as it's strictly based on "individual energy" rather than "shared energy"

[mae-gi-writes]

Finders Keepers | Gally [TMR] - Part 2

In which Gally gets soft for one of the boys in the Glade, only…is it a boy? alternatively; In which Mai disguises herself into a boy to fit in the Glade, only to be suspected by the keen eyes of the Builder's Keeper.

Taglist: @edynmeyer1 @ss28

Also available on Wattpad.

PREVIOUS || NEXT >>

-----

The first time Gally's knowledge about the new Greenie gets challenged, is a few weeks after his first arrival.

Truth to be told, the Builder was surprised at the new boy's tiny stature when he first emerged from the Box. His limbs were frail and looked sickly, his face so tiny, tinier than Newt's, and he was about five feet four, barely reaching above Gally's chest. Needless to say that he was less than impressive. Physically anyway.

He attributed it to thinking that maybe Mai was young, and so brushed it off as part pf the Creator's plan, no matter how twisted and sick they got.

But the first time Gally gets suspicious, is one very specific night.

It's been a few days since his last conversation with the Greenie during dinner and it seems that he's made himself quite comfortable with Frypan in the kitchen. It's currently evening and everyone's slowly falling into bed after a hard day's work. Gally has been speaking quietly to one of his Builders, only to realize that he hasn't showered yet.

"I'll be back." He says, grabbing a fresh pair of clothes from his hut, a towel slinging over his shoulder, before he walks in the direction of the showers.

The stalls are further away in a more hidden part of the forest, far enough that it gives you some semblance of privacy for those who don't feel comfortable bathing in the open. Gally doesn't really mind, it's just a shower after all, and they're all boys.

He walks through a few of the scattered branches along the paved off trail they'd created, before his ears pick up on the sound of running water.

Probably a lone soul, he thinks, before pushing open the wooden door.

"Oh shuck!"

No sooner has he stepped in that a towel is suddenly flung in his face. Gally yells out in shock, stumbling back in surprise as his hands try to find purchase onto the wooden walls of the half-built stall. He's so busy trying to get it off him that he barely register's a voice screaming:

"Don't look!"

"Wh—"

"I said don't look!"

"Okay okay fine!" He yells back, holds out his hands in a semblance of mercy, "I won't look."

Silence. And then, the voice speaks again with hesitation, "you—you promise."

"Yeah," Gally pauses, "yeah I promise."

Why is he even promising such things?! This is ridiculous! Gally has every right to rip this towel off him and yell bloody murder about how rude this is— but something in that person's voice has him hesitating. There's fear and something else, something he can't quite put his finger on.

So he waits, as promised.

And after a few minutes — or what feels like eternity, the voice re-emerges, "alright. I'm done."

Slowly, so as not to scare off the boy, Gally reaches up to pull off the towel from his face.

"Mai?"

His eyebrows rise in surprise, but the said boy seems to be intent on averting his eyes. His hair, freshly washed, falls into his face and for a minute he looks so lost that pity swells in the Builder's chest.

But then, logic breaks through and prompts him to ask, "what are you doing, you slinthead?"

"I--I'm sorry I panicked."

"You panicked? For what?" Gally rolls his eyes but the flush taking over Mai's face is enough to cause him to soften a little. He proceeds to dump his own towel and change of clothes onto the latter's shoulders, "right. Since you're here, might as well prove yourself useful."

"Wha--" Mai stutters out, red in the face, and Gally lets out a sigh of exasperation. He pushes the younger boy out of the shower stall, "stop being such a wuss, Greenie." before slamming the door in Mai's face. -----

For a minute, Mai stands frozen. Not sure what to do.

Here she is, holding Gally's -- yes, Gally -- clothes and towel as if they're casual friends, as if they're more than passing acquaintances. She's not sure what to do with them, not certain whether she should be chucking them over the stall and making a run for it. That idea sounds tempting, but Mai's too much of a coward to face Gally's wrath afterwards.

So she decides to stay, biting her lip upon hearing the faucet twist and Gally's tired sigh. He sounds like he needs that shower, and yet why can't she stop picturing his broad shoulders without his shirt? Is is chest as defined as it looks? He's so tall, Mai wonders whether he gets it from his dad or his mom. And his arms...

Stop it! She snaps herself out of her daze, what is wrong with you?

Her cheeks are burning when she reaches up to touch them, and Mai quickly tries to think of something else to calm down her heart that's suddenly beating like a hummingbird in her chest.

It's not like she's blind either. Gally is attractive, mainly because he's so huge and tall and everything that girls would want in a guy. So can anyone really blame her?

She's so caught up in her own thoughts that she doesn't hear Gally until he shouts out her name two or three more times.

"--Mai! Don't tell me you ran away you shank!"

"Oh--uh--I'm here!" Mai fumbles with the towel, wondering whether she'll be able to chuck it at him. But the shower door swings open a fraction, enough for Gally's hand to pass through.

She swallows, watching as his bare hand grabs onto the towel and disappears behind the wall. Next come his clothes, and she almost sighs in relief when the Builder finally steps out fully clothed, hair damp, and skin glowing red from the shower warmth.

Gally's swiping the towel through his hair upon noticing her staring at him, "what?" he asks gruffly, voice echoing in a lower baritone that has Mai's spine in shivers.

She whips her head away, "nothing."

"You got a problem with naked guys or what?" he can't help but ask, side-eyeing her in the process.

"I--No! It's just--I--" Mai stumbles through words as she tries to rack her brain for a coherent response. Biting her lip, she finally mumbles out, "I'm not used to it, is all."

Gally hums, "Never heard of that one before. You like guys?"

The question comes so out of the blue that it takes the girl a few seconds to realize what he's asking of her. What he thinks she is.

And before she can think twice, she blurts out, "yes."

Gally's eyes widen. He looks at her for a minute as he digests the information. Mai looks back at him, cheeks blazing with red despite realizing that he might bully her for this kind of confession.

Maybe that's why she's quick to add, "don't tell anyone." she pauses, hesitates, "please."

There's a small pause, before Gally dips his head into a nod. Mai lets out a breath of relief. Thankfully, he doesn't seem to be the type of person that gives out useless gossip, nor does he seem like he'd blabber to any of his close friends. Bullying her though, that might be on his list of must-do's now that he's aware of her supposed sexual preference.

They're nearing the Glade now and Mai's readying herself to come up with an excuse when the Builder beats her to it.

"I want extra eggs."

Mai almost stumbles and catches herself. She blinks up at him, "you want—"

"Extra eggs in the morning. You heard me," Gally's eyes are intense on hers and he folds his arms, "or I can spill your dirty little secret—"

"It's not dirty!"

"Should I then?" Challenge glistens in his eyes, amusement dangling from his lips.

"No— ugh— fine. I'll give you extra eggs." Mai's shoulders slump. She just hopes no one will take notice of this sudden preference.

"And extra curry at lunchtime and dinner."

She throws him a glare, "that's too much."

"Then I guess I'll spread the word first thing tomorrow--"

"Okay fine fine! Yes, you'll get extra curry. Just--don't tell anyone." Mai feels like begging might prove useful at this point, the way Gally stands there looking satisfied of how much of a wreck she's being because of him, "please, Gally."

He holds out his hand, grinning, "it's a deal, Greenie." 

"My name is Mai," she mutters while gripping his hand. She can't help but notice how it engulfs hers entirely. Jesus, this guy's a monster.

"Good that," he's already turning to go back to his hut but then stops in mid-action, an amused smile thrown over his shoulder, "goodnight Greenie. And stop staring, you look like you might drool."

"Oh shut up Gally!" 

But the boy is already gone and walking away by then, his laughter echoing through the air. Mai rolls her eyes, grumbling under her breath as she makes it back to her own hammock squeezed in-between one too many. 

Great. She's definitely not looking forward to tomorrow.

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

California zoo accessibility data dump

I just recently got back from a short (and fully covid-cautious) zoo road trip in Oregon and California, and wanted to share my notes re: accessibility at the facilities I visited. I'll get this all integrated into the spreadsheet, too.

Wildlife Safari - Winston, Oregon

This is a large drive-thru safari park with a free walk-about area attached that contains some small exhibits. Guests stay inside their cars the entire drive-thru, although there's at least one place to stop and sit in a gazebo to rest and use the bathroom (porta-potty only). You can pull over to watch animals for longer, and go through multiple times if you missed anything. It's a long drive-thru and there isn't really a good way to truncate the experience if you've got some kind of emergency. The roads are not flat, but they're well maintained and not bumpy.

The walkabout area is very small and contains bathrooms, food options, and other guest services. The paths are mostly concrete and well tended, although you do have to cross the steam train tracks to get to lion/some of the lemur viewing. I believe the Australia walkabout area was also unpaved. There's lots of parking in a big, flat, paved lot.

Sacramento Zoo - Sacramento, CA

This is a very cute, small inner-city facility - a good option if you don't want to try to walk a huge zoo in one day. There's lots of shade from all the plants and a good amount of benches throughout, including picnic tables with shade canopies. The paths are almost entirely flat and paved, with the exception of a boardwalk ramp up to the giraffe feeding and okapi viewing platforms. The cafe has gluten-free and vegetarian listings (maybe vegan?) on their menu. No straws are provided for animal safety, but if you need one, they can give you a reusable curly-straw from the slushies (kinda long and awkward for a normal cup) as an accommodation. They've got both water fountains and water bottle filling stations. Being build in a larger city park and recreation complex, there isn't a dedicated parking lot just for the zoo: the closest is across the street, shared with another attraction, and is kinda small. I've never had issues finding parking when I've gone, but sometimes it does involve a bunch of walking to get to the zoo entrance - if you have mobility or stamina limitations, probably best to get dropped off at the entrance and wait (there are benches).

San Francisco Zoo - San Francisco, CA

The SF Zoo is huge. There's lots of green / garden / swamp space that doesn't have habitats in it, but it means exhibits can be pretty far away, so plan your route accordingly. (Going out to the grizzly bears is the longest loop). Depending on the time of day, there's not always a ton of shade for guests either. There's a decent amount of benches, and quite a few are in decent proximity to animal viewing. After a somewhat long but not steep hill right at the entrance, the paths are all paved and fairly flat. There's a hill going down into/up from the Australia area / kids playground, but it's the only one I really noticed. There's a long elevated boardwalk through the lemur habitats that connects to the top of the new Madagascar construction - if you can't do stairs, as of Spring 2024, that's the only way to get up there to look down on the mandrills or see the top of the fossa habitat. (It's still under construction, so there might be an elevator in the building in the future). Back by the grizzlies, there's an old indoor rainforest building - while there's buttons to automatically open the door going in, I didn't find any on the first inside door going out. It makes sense they don't want both doors to open at once since it's a bird airlock, but not having independent ones on each door meant the day I used an ECV I got stuck in there until a nice staff member noticed.

All three times I've ever been to SF most of the little food kiosks haven't been open, and the vending machines for drinks have been hit and miss - so bring your own, or stock up at the cafe if you need to have supplies with you - but there are water fountains and water bottle filling stations around the zoo. There are interpretive audio boxes through the zoo in English and Spanish, used with a key you get at the entrance(?), but I heard a lot of complaints in passing about some of them not working. There's lots of parking at the zoo in a flat paved lot, and there's a specific dropoff area on one side for rideshares/mobility needs.

Oakland Zoo - Oakland, CA

To be clear up front - Oakland was the hardest facility to visit on this whole trip, with regards to mobility. We went twice, and I used an ECV (electric scooter) one and walked the other. Neither option was easy and both were exhausting. Oakland is a super hilly facility - you basically have to drive up a major hill to get to the zoo. The bottom half of the lower zoo can only be reached by going down pretty steep paths. The hills are also not graded to be "flat", so if you're in a wheelchair or ECV, you're going to have to lean to compensate for the tilt and balance the chair... while controlling it going down a steep hill. It's exhausting and kinda scary. (I don't even let other people carry my camera because $$, but I had to ask for help so I could focus on driving the ECV on those hills). There's also a lot of areas of the pathways that are not in the best repair, or patterned with pressed-in images, and multiple places actually have brass bugs embedded in the pavement so that they stick out above the surface. Lots of tripping hazards and/or things to rattle your teeth out rolling over. A couple places in the upper zoo (the California wilds area) the paths switch from paved to sand and back again, for drainage, maybe? On the upside, there's a lot of benches everywhere, including directly across from prime viewing areas.

Getting up to the upper zoo requires using a gondola - there's no walking option. You can actually take wheelchairs and ECVs on these, but you have to be ready to advocate for yourself. Normally, they don't stop the carriages completely, and expect people to walk on while they're still moving slowly. You can ask them to slow them down for you (I did, because knee issues plus torque is bad), or stop it completely if you need the time/help. When I took an ECV on, they had me disembark and get in one carriage, and they loaded it into the subsequent ones. This is fine because I can walk and stand on concrete for a while without it, but I'm not sure how that practice would work for people who need their mobility aids the whole time. They were very nice about managing the stopping and the loading and didn't make it feel like an imposition, too. If they stop the carriages completely at any point, there will be a loud buzzer/alarm when the ride starts back up. If you're close, it's pretty loud and startling. As they leave the track at the bottom the gondolas tip and dip a little, which can be scary if you're not expecting it - I think it's just the transition of the car from the loading bay onto the track itself. The rest of the ride is very smooth. The track is pretty high up and gives a great view of the bay and the surrounding cities, but face uphill if you don't do well with heights. Once at the upper zoo, the path from bald eagles through jaguar is mostly a boardwalk, but it's not too bumpy.

Oakland's parking is hard if you're not there early in the day, IMO. The overflow parking gets pretty far from the entrance, and starts to go up the hill towards the upper zoo. If the lot looks busy, drop anyone with mobility/stamina issues off at the entrance before parking. Unlike many other zoos I've visited, Oakland's ECVS have added sunshades, which is really nice (and which I should have used).

Monterey Zoo - Salinas, CA

This is a fairly small facility with most habitats on one level, but some big cats and bears are up a pretty big hill. The walkways are paved and flat, and there's an ADA-graded boardwalk ramp that takes you to the top of the hill. The pipes used for the handrails on both the stairs and the ramp get very hot in the sun, however. There's a boardwalk up to the rhino overlook. They indicate that their bathrooms are accessible, but the ones in the main building didn't have bars for transferring - I didn't check the ones up on the hill. At one point in the day speakers along the path started playing really loud pop music (drowned out the birds) and it was very overwhelming. There's lots of handicapped parking spots across from the front entrance, but if you don't have a tag, the rest of the spots are up a bit of a hill and a small walk from the entrance. They do have a note, though, that they can help if you need accessible parking and don't see any, so you could probably call/have someone to go in and ask for an accommodation.

Sequoia Park Zoo - Eureka, CA

This is another nice small facility, very doable for a half-day trip. The paths are paved and flat, and there's benches available. There's a lot of shade, although it can depend on the time of day, and places to fill a water-bottle. The sky-walk through the redwoods is accessible, but might be a little difficult depending on mobility limitations - its' a very sturdy boardwalk through the canopy of the tall trees. (I had more thoughts on this from my last visit, I'll dig out those notes). If you can do even part of it, it's worth it, and there's places to turn around. Because it's in a residential area of the town there's not a huge dedicated parking lot, but lots of street parking and a decent lot directly across the street. I've never had difficulty finding parking, and you can drop people off at the entrance easily.

[holy-puckslibrary]

just a lil firefighter!sid fluff for y'all :)

gif from @ehghtysevenarchive + per this ask and others

Surely, the chief of Canada's oldest fire department has more important things to do on a crisp morning, the last one preceding a fresh week, than this. He most definitely does. And, yes, Chief Crosby is known for his pragmatic approach to, well, everything.

But neither carries weight here—not when she calls.

Leaky faucet, dead car battery, unreachable spider... It doesn't matter. One ring, and he's rushing home. He can't pin-point when the pattern began, likely sometime shortly between the day you moved into town and his first off-day, but it's a routine he's come to enjoy despite the extra strain on both his schedule and his body; Sidney never thought sharing a property line could be so tedious or time-consuming.

He knows he shouldn't enjoy the distraction as much as he does. You aren't together, Sidney doesn't ever allow his imagination wander that far, but he can't help it. He can't help but help. He rarely turns down anyone in need, which has done wonders for his reputation within the community, but with you... With you, it's different, and embarrassingly so.

He doesn't have the words to explain it. Not that he needs to, it's written plainly across his face.

There's a reason you're regular fixtures in the town's gossip column.

When he arrives on scene—not ten minutes after his F-Series crawled down the gravel drive—Sidney shakes his head and laughs. Collecting his cell and his radio, he slips out of the truck, watching as you fret like a mother hen.

Still in your slippers, you're stood at the base of a decently-sized red spruce wedged between his yard and yours, your crumpled face angled up into the yellow-green needles. You're the very picture of worry, wringing your trembling hands and muttering to yourself.

A stray kitten caught in a tree, that's what's got you in a such a state.

"Well, this is a new one," he bellows in lieu of a greeting, slamming the door shut as his boots hit the ground.

Briefly, your glassy eyes dart in his direction. You're midway through your customary apology when he arrives at your side and quiets you, just as he always does.

"They're more than capable of holding down the fort for however long it takes to rescue our new friend, okay?"

"I know, but what if—"

"But nothing," Sidney huffs, and he dares to take you by the shoulders. And, externally, he ignores the way you shiver under his palms. "If I didn't think it was safe for me to step out for a couple of minutes, I wouldn't. You believe me, right?"

You nod, bottom lip pinched between your teeth.

"Good. Now, how 'bout you keep an ear on this," Sidney sets the clunky satellite radio in your hand, "—and I'll grab the ladder from the shed?"

He doesn't really need your help monitoring the channel, but he knows you'll feel better if you feel like you're doing something. Like him, you find comfort in your utility.

In less than a minute, Sidney re-emerges, rounding the corner with a ladder in hand. You're in the same spot, now fidgeting with the radio, anxiously dumping it from one palm to the other and back again. He follows your gaze to line up the simple equipment necessary for the rescue operation.

Sidney's heart swells as you quietly step forward to spot him.

Lucky for everyone, the ball of orange fur is on the branch nearest to the ground. Sidney needs only to step up onto the first wrung to safetly coax the frightened creature into his waiting hands, he's back on the ground not long after.

He gives the kitten a gentle parting scratch under the chin, then transfers the purring fluff to you. The soft bundle takes to you immediately, nuzzling into your chest like that's where it wanted to be all along.

"I think he likes you," Sidney observes with a cheek-numbing grin.

Your lips are tipped up at the end and there's fan of happiness rooting itself around your eyes. Your mouth opens to reply, but before the words come—

"Well, would you look at this?"

Across the quiet street and a few houses to the left sits an audience of two. Both of which are now cooing as loudly as two ladies in their sixties can manage. Coffee cups in one hand and their cellphones propped up in the other, they fawn over the two of you as if it's live theater.

Sidney curses their sons, who he'd completed the explorer program with as teens, for enabling this technological torture.

"Smile, you two! Oh, Denise is just going to eat this up," one of them, a spitfire in a 4'11 frame by the name of Mrs. Bouchard, exclaims to her co-conspirator, Ms. Johnston.

Then, to no one's surprise and Sid's chagrin, they giddily type out their respective messages to the local paper's equally-nosy editor-in-chief.

"Looks like we're front-page news again," you hum bashfully.

The tabby mewls in your arms. You curl into the little bundle of fur, lips landing between its delicate ears.

Sid studies you in his periphery as he slips in and out of heady contemplation, ultimately deciding he doesn't mind as much as he once did. "That we are..."

—

eek! wait, why do i luv them already 🥹

as always, i would really appreciate if you reblogged my work, left a comment or dropped by my inbox w some feedback :) fandom runs on engagement, and so do writers!! thx a mil in advance!

READ MORE OF THEM HERE!

[mer-acle]

Is there anything specific you have for Athena's neurodivergence - eg, stims, habits, sensitivities and such

That is a good question, in short, yes.

First one would be that when she's focused or in general just when she's doing something that she's like fixated on or something like that, she will like make little sounds, like she will hum mostly. And since she's been told that and being picked on for that and even told by teachers not to do that, during exams for example, she has a habit of sitting with her hand over her mouth so she can't do it.

Which is super sad and in general because of the very strict environment of her boarding school and being bullied a lot, she learned to mask very very heavily and some of her habits are only starting to emerge now when she's in her twenties in college where nobody gives a fuck (besides the humming because she still can't do that in exams.)

But we have of course her headphones, she always has them in, she's the queen of noise cancelling because she hates ambient sound, she doesn't like loud sounds as well, especially if they’re sudden, it’s kinda a mixture of neurodivergence and trauma for her because she's always also just very anxious most of the time.

She also likes to have her own mug, like they have a bunch of mugs (like every household) but she has her own. So Athena is the kind of person you don't gift mugs to. She just wants to use hers (that has an owl on it ofc)

We got some hyperfixations with the owls mainly but also with little topics that she got invested in and knows a lot about. Probably history, philosophy and literature themed.

Speaking of, Athena does like to read and her TBR is massive but she ends up re-reading books more often than not bc it's safe and comfortable and her one hour of free time is hard to spend on a new book when she wants to wind down.

There's just some general things, like for example that she has the classic, „no if I have an appointment at that time I can't do anything until then“ that some people might be familiar with.

She hates changes in routine and also she dislikes Ares bringing people over unannounced. She's like settled on I'll have a quiet night tonight and all of a sudden there are people in her space so she dislikes that.

None of Ares' friends ever get into her room and it takes a very long time like way way way into the story until Aphrodite is allowed into her room cause it's like her safe space so nobody gets in there besides her immediate family.

When she was a child, she would hide A lot and squeeze into like small places like the laundry closet or the space under the stairs because she didn't like how open the house felt, though that in part is connected to her trauma as well. Basically she would hide when she was overwhelmed which was unfortunately a lot of the time ☹

I'm also considering her to be kind of a picky eater, and she its probably struggling a lot more with that because during boarding school there would not be extra lunches so she would have to eat what they had or go hungry, so these days she just doesn't like eating, period, because it was so stressful when she was a child. In general she doesn't really like fatty food or stuff with stringy texture (like meat, asparagus, stringy cheese that type of stuff) [The author just realized another aspect of her own neurodivergence]

Ares is the kind of a picky eater as well but he stands up for himself more lol

Obviously there's like a lot of things that Athena just does that are not really defined but scream neurodivergent, I think, but these are the ones I can think of right now.

Ideas welcome :D

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

A Million Times Over - Carlos Sainz

<word count - 1398>

You and Carlos had had a wonderful night out with your friends, and you weren't really ready to call it a night. However, all of you had to fly home the next day and it would be better if you didn't get on the plane hungover.

Well, completely hungover.

The pair of you were walking through the dazzling streets of Monaco, back towards your hotel. You could just about see the harbour glittering under the moonlight as a few other stray people wandered about.

It was the most stunning place in the world, and you could see why Charles had such an affinity with the place. Carlos was just excited to get back to the hotel and sleep, on the other hand.

As you excited the bar, he slipped your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. You looked at him and smiled. His hair was ruffled from dancing and his skin shone under the starlight.

Eventually, you made it back to your lavish hotel and collapsed down onto the bed. Carlos noticed that you seemed a bit pale and fatigued. You had felt fine on the way back, but now a unsettled feeling was settled in your stomach. 

Concern etched on his face, he wrapped an arm around you as you sat up. "Are you alright, querida?" He asked. You nodded and weakly smiled, leaning into his embrace. 

"I'm just a little tired, I'll be fine after some sleep," you told him, not wanting to worry him too much. You just felt a little off, so it was nothing to get too worked up about. 

Carlos, however, wasn't convinced. He knew when something was off, and he always made it his number one priority to make you feel incredible at all times. When you were off, he was off as well. 

He stood and walked to the drawers that had the remainders of your stuff for tomorrow in. He plucked one of his many Ferrari t-shirts from it and threw it at you and it landed in your lap. You lightly smiled at him, slipping your dress off over your head and shimmying the shirt on in its place.

The material was soft and cooling against your skin as you let your hair hang loose and shuffled over to your side of the bed. "You not brushing your teeth?" he asked, leaning against the doorway to the bathroom. 

He had taken his shirt off at some point, and the lights behind him made him look absolutely heavenly. The sight alone easily made you feel slightly better and the light thud in your head got a little quieter.

As your stomach knotted itself, your face had discomfort written all over it. "Hey, you sure you're alright?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowed as he approached you.

"Yeah, yeah. It'll pass," you reassured. 

"You stay there, I'll get you a water," he said, walking out of the room. You heard the tap running, before it closed off and Carlos re-emerged out of the bathroom. He set the glass down on the bedside table next to you, the crystal liquid sloshing around. 

"Thank you," you smiled tenderly, snuggling yourself up in the covers. Carlos slid in next to you, turning the lights off as he went. You faced him as he got comfy, his hand reaching up to your face to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"Eres bonita," he softly spoke, his eyes flicking over all of the features of your face.

"Tú también," you said back, gazing into those deep brown eyes that made you melt on the spot. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. You rested your head against his chest, getting comfortable and ready to sleep. 

His hand snaked up the back of your shirt, gently trailing his fingers up and down your spine. You let yourself close your eyes and curl yourself into his embrace, sleep and peace engulfing you.

How long you had been asleep? You didn't know. All you knew what that you had been woken up by an overwhelming wave of nausea that hit you like a ton of bricks. 

It took all the effort you had to wriggle out of Carlos' arms, leap out of bed and sprint to the bathroom. You were barely able to flick the light switch on as you hunched over the toilet and emptied out all of the dinner and slight amount of alcohol that you had consumed the night before. 

It wasn't long before your hair was pulled out of your face and a soothing hand was caressing up and down your back. "It's OK, you're alright," Carlos cooed at you, hating seeing you like this. 

Once you thought you were done, you flushed the contents of your stomach down the drain and rinsed your mouth out with water. The taste of it still lingered on your tongue and your throat felt scratchy and raw. 

"Sorry," you said, wiping away the stray tears that were escaping your eyes. You didn't want to cry, but your stomach hurt so badly and everything was painful. "Hey, baby, don't cry," he pouted, tugging you into his embrace. 

"You don't have to be sorry for things like this," he reassured you, planting a soft kiss on top of your head. "You can go back to bed if you want, I'm just going to sit here for a bit,"

"No, I'm staying here. I need to make sure you're alright," he said, not even moving a muscle. For a while, you sat there, holding back the tears as your stomach churned. 

You felt bad that you were keeping him up while you had a flight tomorrow, and you knew he hated flying while tired. "Are you sure you don't want to-" you started, but you felt something rising up your throat, leaving an agonizing burn in its wake. 

Within moments, you were hunched over the toilet bowl again, releasing whatever was left in your stomach. "It's alright, let it all out," It didn't take as long this time, but it hurt more. 

You looked up at Carlos through glassy, watery eyes, and he looked extremely concerned. "I know, baby, I know," he softly said, grabbing a face cloth and dampening it. 

He tilted your head up with his thumb on your chin and wiped around your mouth. You felt a lot better, and his tenderness was definitely a contributing factor. "You should really go to bed," you whispered, breaking eye contact.

"Querida, I am staying, and that is that," he said authoritatively. 

"But I look like a mess and-"

"No, you won't say that again. I don't care what you look like, I just care that you're alright, and I am not leaving you alone until you are. I would do this a million times over with you, and there is nothing you can do about it," he said, and booped you on the nose as he left the flannel in the sink. 

"Do you want to go back to bed, or do you want to stay here for a bit?" he asked.

"I think I'll be alright to go to bed now," you said. Without another word, he laced his arms under your legs and hoisted you into his arms, bridal style. You let out a high-pitched squeal as it took you by surprise, causing Carlos to smile.

He loved your smile so much, because it was such a true one. You only smiled properly when you meant it and it was the best sight in the world to him. The way your eyes lit up, the way the little dimples formed on your cheeks. It was pure perfection. 

He carefully placed you back down in the bed, prompting you to shimmy back under the covers. He pulled you close, but he didn't hold you too tightly so you wouldn't feel too ill again. Through the darkness, you heard a soft, "I love you," as fingers started running through your hair. 

"I love you too," you said back, the scratchiness of your throat making it hard to speak, but it was worth it to tell him how you felt. Once again, you let sleep engulf you, but this time, you weren't awoken by nausea and sickness. 

You were woken up by Carlos, trying to drag you out of bed and to the airport, and there was no other way you would have it. 

|masterlist|

[valeriefauxnom]

Things You May Or May Not Know And/Or Remember About the Royal Family

Exactly what it says on the tin, here's at least 3 things for each family member that you may not know!

Leonidas:

-I'll use my freebie here to cheat and pull out the 'he has a pet panther that has given jewlery and metal to wear' because I want to spread this niche detail about. Evidence for that one you can find in this link here. But yes, by all accounts Leonidas seemed to have a pet panther, and no he does not talk about it once. It also explains his sudden competence to know that cats shouldn't have grape juice in the comics when correcting Emile, because he has one... a big one, mind you, but he's got a cat!

-His curry obsession in the comics is implied to have been a thing passed on and or learned from Aurelius, which is perhaps the only thing Leonidas seems to like about his father!

-Leonidas is 99% of the time Very Serious in his wording of things, but I gotta hand it to this line for being probably the single silliest thing he's said in canon entirely on his own volition (ie, not being heavily coached by Mym/Siren):

-Mars is not his first dragon

-Is actually the first to exit the main campaign at ch.16, though he does a good job of acting as Euden's secretary afterwards by directing Ilia to him at the Sacred Tree and requesting Emile's army at Grams

-Has either bought or built a completely separate manor in the capital despite being the crown prince and thus likely king

-Declares Valkaheim the new capital of a re-established Alberia (not to be confused with New Alberia) mid-canon, in effect making himself King of Alberia

Phares:

-At some point in canon, Phares crept back to Clave Loy'elune, snuck back in the cave where Everything Went Down, and stealthily did a little cutting of Alberius/Chthonius' corpse

-Phares is not actually the first sibling to dive into alchemy, even if he ultimately does end up the most learned in it - Leonidas actually was the first, and it's more implied Phares' initial interest was out of the slight rivalry they have

-Per the 'meet the cast' thing they did at the end of the lifespan, Phares is skilled at reading ancient languages

-Is the direct reason for guns manacasters re-emerging in the modern day, or at the very least the reason they emerged as early as they did. How?

He's apparently also schooled enough in archeology to then be able to teach Chelle... which then gave her the knowledge and ability to start finding manacasters and restoring them:

Chelle:

-Has sent her betrothed (Elua) to be executed

-When younger, used to harass Leonidas and Phares trying to chill out together, which they did not like

-Was devoted to the idea of getting Cat Sith as her dragon long before she ever could pact

-In one wyrmprint, suggests she still dreams of ascending Alberia's throne, which raises Questions of how she intends to do so since she seems to get along very well with her elder brothers and vice-versa:

-Liiiiittle bit shaky here since it's based on my observation/memory and not a concrete fact as the others, but if I'm right, Chelle is the only member of the currently-pacted family who does not shapeshift. Phares is not pacted for at least a good bulk of canon, Leo does in ch.12, Valyx 6, Euden... everywhere, Zethia and Nedrick in tree drama... The closest she gets is in her gala story, but decided against it.

Valyx:

-Valyx may seemingly need glasses, as every time he dons them in canon and in the comics, they seem to be of a more functional variety than Chelle's clearly decorative one. They also seem pretty consistent in design.

-His battle standard isn't 'just' a bear - it's a 'greatbear', which I'm guessing is just a Really Big Bear

-His journey to pact with Thor was seemingly fraught - not many wanted to come, and of those that did, many got smote by Thor and died

-Prior to Euden, his forces were undefeated

-Has nearly executed Malora for espionage (after she ironically convinced him into doing so over lifelong imprisonment after correctly pointing out she'd just seduce her way out of a prison cell)

-Became the military leader of, essentially, Grastea's NATO, at the end of canon before he and the most of the siblings got smote in ch.25

Beren:

-Has said 'okie-dokie'

-Canon's variety of him is the only one to get as far as he has in life in the entire span of worlds:

-This isn't hidden knowledge at all, per se, but I never will get over the fact he chooses his alias to be 'Ed'. Like. Ed????

-Beren's problems with black mana began at birth; Leonidas wanted to kill him but by the time he gained the authority to do so had somehow grown 'too strong' for him to manage that.

-Somewhat surprisingly per the character intro, likes 'quiet places', which is both understandable as the only thing he's known and shocking, since I might have otherwise thought he wouldn't for the reminder of his previous imprisonment

-Has brass knuckles dangling down from his straitjacket (and is not wearing pants), which makes me dream of a playable Beren that's not a spellcaster and instead just beats people up with fisticuffs

Emile:

-Explicitly had the hots for humanoid Mercury, making him one of the three royal family members that even so much as hinted towards any romantic inclination

-His Gala portrait has several hidden details, including a ghost Aurelius hiding/watching over him and the dome above him depicting his regular form leading soldiers

-Is so insensitive to spiritual matters that he cannot perceive ghosts in the slightest!

-You might have noted the lack of mention of him in my shapeshift spiel.... and that's because he technically did shapeshift once, but it wasn't when he was pacted. Instead, he did it from tapping into Euden's pacts with his and Mercury's permission! So yeah, it's... complicated.

-His Gala form gains a single earring suspiciously similar to Leonidas', which makes me personally think he was trying to copy Leonidas' overall presence/grandeur, but chickened out at the pain. Funnily enough, he and Leonidas are the only ones in the fam consistently depicted with earring(s) in unit art, as Chelle only rarely features them in other art! ...Zethia may technically seem to be wearing them in 'Endless Waltz', but this event is, well, dubiously canon, as there never really was a time in which she could party with Luca and then become Empress (even if Emile playing ocarina will never get old).

Euden:

-Is so terrible at using knives in the kitchen that Cleo seems seriously concerned he's about to faint from blood loss and orders him to lie down

-Did ask Leonidas pre-canon where the heck Beren was, only for Leonidas to tell him that he went 'missing' despite knowing full well the truth

-Hobbies include writing and seemingly playing violin, even though that latter bit was sidelined for a while as Aurelius instead forced him to learn piano

-His royal fam t-shirt that's part of the running joke in the comics is actually pink and red, the one time we see it in color:

(By the way, Leonidas' is orange-red, Emile's is green, and we never see the colors for Phares' but I'd guess blue since 2/3 are tied to their usual color schemes/theme)

-Also a silly comic fact that he has a little wallet with his face on it that he sometimes gives to people, and his seal also bears his face (as WillofWinnie recreated the latter here)

-Was so bad at swordplay that even after years of practice, complete novices could beat him

-Likes taking walks with the doggy in the woods when he's feeling bad

Zethia:

-Has her own bank of quotes even as an NPC adventurer for her brief stint in ch.1 as a 'party member', one of which is 'I admit, every now and then, I wonder how *I* would look in a suit of armor...'

-She also notes that she's not 'wholly unfamiliar' with the sword due to watching Euden practice so much

-Has said the word 'damn' before

-Literally almost beat up Morsayati with just her and Zena in ch.5, impressively

-Likes wildlife/nature and making flower crowns

-In a mix of other lore and her, birds are a holy symbol in the Ilian faith, which might explain why she's often depicted with them and why comic!Zethia feels the need so often to help chicks back to their nest

-If I can include Zena, Aurelius actually was alive in her world for a while, and was the reason she was able to cross into all the others she did

-Kinda personal, kinda lore, but Zethia did kinda break her vows as Auspex when pacting with Bahamut, as a pact is something that puts her in the line of succession when she forswore ascending, in a thing I wish was addressed.

Also, she'd technically be higher than Euden in the line of succession to the Alberian throne because they seem to operate on a 'pact+age' determinate of order, and she is a month or two older.

Nedrick:

-With Zethia, seems to have a line of scales running down part his leg after formally pacting with Bahamut

-Relatedly, his Gala unit still has the faint hints of the Alberian dragon symbol oft used to tie characters to the land and the royal fam on its base

-Nedrick seldom speaks or even thinks of Euden's name, which, while that very well might be deliberate in the sense of him not wanting to acknowledge Euden's replacement of him down to the name (a thing he seems also dedicated to pretending he doesn't care about his 'abandonment'), but he does make an exception the moment he realizes with Zethia that Euden is going to die:

-Likes quiet forests, which theoretically means he could jive with Zethia and Beren rather well in this regard

-Really doesn't seem to like people not talking to him if he wants an answer:

-Seldom eats or sleeps and instead supplements this lacking self-care by just absorbing mana around him

So, yeah, there's some of the quirks and little moments of the fam! All of the plain statements of fact come from moments in Dragalia instead of them just being individual headcanon, which I'd be happy to point out to any who are curious where they come from!

[goodnightoilcountry]

you must like me for me - quinn hughes (a sneak peek !)

a/n: another fic idea i've had in my head for ages ! i started writing it the other day when i was sick and it's currently at 3k words. i'm CONFIDENT that i'll smash this one out quicker than my aho fic so it's the only reason i feel like i can post a sneak peak. but also let me know if you have any requests or ideas you'd like me to write about - i'd love to hear from you 🤍

summary: twelve months since the incident and you're ready to let yourself re-emerge into the public eye in the form of a hockey game. the plan was simple: appear, smile, leave unscathed. easy, right?

The theory of fight or flight has always fascinated you. In the face of adversity, no matter how complex the situation, millions of years of evolution still dictate that humanity will always revert to its oldest survival mechanism: to either assert and neutralize, or: evade and withdraw. 

What you’ve come to learn is that there’s a third strategy nestled between fight or flight, often overlooked because of its passiveness in comparison to its overt counterparts: to freeze. 

And that’s the instinct you’ve found yourself falling back on time and time again. As if you’re hoping to blend into the very fabric of the environment where you can pause amid the chaos, weigh the risks, and soundly determine the best course of action. 

The downturn? 

You’re left vulnerable and exposed the longer you wait. 

But it’s a tactic that you’ve grown familiar with, and it’s the one that’s currently in motion. 

“You can’t do this to her, she isn’t ready.”

“It’s been over a year, we can’t let her hide forever.” 

The commotion of voices being thrown around surrounds you but you’re too swept up with the memories and emotions battling out in your head. They’re leaving you dizzy and disorientated. 

One year. Had it really been that long? God. It feels like one month since you first signed your contract in front of a roomful of lawyers and high-powered executives. Back then, you were too naively charmed by the golden promises of stardom and fame that they were selling you. Promising that your talent for lyricism, bordering on poetry, would resonate with the hearts of girls who all seemed to unanimously share the parallel experiences of all things love and girlhood. That you needed a team that could provide you with the right connections and the right opportunities to get you there. 

And to their credit, they didn’t fail you. As soon as you signed your contract, the label had you in the studio effective immediately with the release of “your” song debuting four weeks later. 

“But I didn’t write this and it doesn’t really sound like me…” 

“Don’t worry about it, honey. We just need to get you on the charts and then you can write about anything you want. Trust us - this is how it all works.” 

And trust them you did.

Your song topped the charts for twelve consecutive weeks. The events that took place after your overnight success were a whirlwind. You released a music video. You did media interviews. You collabed with DJs to release remixes. You performed as a guest on endless TV shows. And when you were done, you thought that you would finally be able to sit down with your producers to start developing the library of ideas and single-line lyrics you had swimming around in your head. 

But they had other plans for you in the form of a studio album, and then rinse and repeat. You felt like you were a human cannonball: shot out, forced to perform carefully curated tricks, and to always stick the landing. 

Your team had done everything they could to meticulously craft your image; selectively allowing journalists to access certain stories whether it be about your work or your life. You were America’s Darling. Until you weren’t. 

A sharp trill of your name grounds you back into reality. You blink and recompose yourself, finding the same four people you entered the boardroom with, staring expectantly back at you. Your mom, your manager, Megan, your publicist, Bec, and sat opposite you across the insanely large table is the VP of your label, Joe. Their expressions are ones you’ve grown used to: sympathetic and slightly defeated.  

“Sorry, what was the question?” 

Megan sighs and shifts slightly in her chair to meet your front. “Darling, I know how hard this year has been for you,” 

Do you? 

“But it’s time for us to come back out. We need to face this.” 

In all the years you’ve worked with Megan, she has never offered you such softness in her voice as she has now. As a manager, a female manager in this industry nonetheless, she had been nothing short of headstrong, sharp, and commanding. Her confidence and demeanour never wavered and, if you were being honest, you were thankful that she held you to the same standard as the rest of your team. It equipped you with a thick skin, something that you wouldn’t have survived your young career without. And it leaves you to wonder where you would be now without her to guide you through this situation. 

“Megan is right,” Joe says. “The world hasn’t forgotten, you know.” 

It comes out so matter-of-factly that it feels almost accusatory. 

“You’re not the first celebrity to be wrapped up in a scandal and you certainly won’t be the last.” 

That line is enough to make your mom snap into a fury again. 

“A scandal? She did nothing wrong,” she chastises. “What that boy did is not her fault.” 

Joe’s impatience is growing evident with every turn of the conversation. As warranted as your mother’s protectiveness is for this particular circumstance, her resistance was stopping one of his biggest artists from bringing in the label money. You can tell he's trying his best to level his demeanour but you also know that the higher-ups are breathing down his neck. He's balancing it as well as anyone could.

“This wasn’t just any boy. And your daughter is not just any girl. The reality of the situation is that just because she wasn’t responsible for what happened, doesn’t mean we can simply erase her from it,” Joe breaks, voice raising ever so slightly.

“She cannot keep silent on this anymore and the longer we stretch this out, the more intense the backlash will be upon her,” he presses on. “With all due respect, we have been extremely patient and have afforded your daughter twelve months. But this is a business first and there is a contract to be upheld. We are giving you the opportunity to write the narrative or have it forced to be written for you.” 

“He’s right,” Bec interjects. She’s always had a good gauge of when to step in when tensions start rising. It’s what makes her such a great publicist - always mediating at the right time. 

“But we don’t have to rush either. We can take it slowly. Start off with a public appearance in a controlled environment. 

The juxtaposition of that sentence could have made you laugh. Controlled environment? If the last few years had taught you anything, it was that no public appearance was ever fully in your control. Your phone number had been leaked more times than you could remember; the media showed up at your house at all hours of the night; private family events were invaded by obsessed “fans”. 

Your mom was quick to make the same connection, “where could we possibly let her go that guarantees her safety?” 

“The suite at MSG has their security system locked down to a tee. We could place her in there with a few friends and guise it as a quiet night out to show their support. Maybe work with the organisation to show her on the scoreboard during a break, totally candid of course, and maybe meet with their guest of the night for some fan engagement. We don’t want the public to misconstrue the appearance as a total cover-up.” Bec rattles off like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

Megan and Joe start nodding in agreeance, chiming in with additional tweaks to the plan that’s now been laid out, and it becomes apparent to you that they’ve had this meeting before without you. Your requested input and presence on the matter was just an act of courtesy. But as vexed as you are with this realisation, you know it makes sense. You were tired of the pitied looks your family and friends gave you, afraid to broach the subject as if it would send you into a spiral. You felt like the public owned you; shunning you into silence with all your actions picked apart and psychoanalyzed everywhere you turned. 

You missed your fans who called for you every day, writing sweet notes of encouragement and rebuffing shallow attempts of hate accounts concocting false stories. You wouldn’t be half the artist you are today without them and they deserved more than just radio silence. And it’s this last thought that makes you believe it’s the only reason you say:

“Just tell me when.” 

[cenorii]

RE headcanons again!

PART 2

This time I will add what animals I associate them with. Again I'll write a lot about some and just a little about others to supplement the last part.

Sherry Birkin

— It's hard to say what her favorite color is. She probably doesn't prefer any particular color, she likes dim palettes.

— I'm inclined to think that Sherry could have been Wesker's goddaughter. Birkins could have introduced him to her, and since Wesker has known William since childhood, he trusts him.

— She obviously attended NEST because Annette gave her a G-related pendant. Sherry probably had some instructions for emergency situations in which to use it, but kept it a secret. Chief Irons knew about the secret of the pendant, probably from William himself, because he was bribing Irons. And Wesker also knew about the pendant, it's in his first report.

— I recently rewatched all the clips of Sherry in re6 and noticed how reluctant she is to talk about Wesker every time the topic comes up. She never says anything bad about him, avoiding talking about him. I think that as a child, Wesker treated her well or seemed like a good person, but when she found out who he really was, she was deeply disappointed. She cherishes fond memories of this man, but keeps it a secret, because she will surely be convicted.

— Sherry calls Jake "Jake Wesker" instead of "Muller," even though she knows Wesker had nothing to do with his upbringing. Did she downplay the significance of Jake's mom? No, I would look at it this way. This is further proof that "Wesker" is not a negative word to her. She secretly treats him better than others treat him, so she called Jake by his last name with pride.

— In that moment when the runaway Jake and Sherry were changing clothes, they had a conflict. But I think Sherry was angry not only because Jake's words hurt the memory of her father, but also because they hurt the memory of Jake's father.

— Sherry was in government custody from 1998 to 2009. She was in custody mainly because of Wesker (file "A Deal with the United States" from re6). The government believed that Wesker needed a sample of the G-virus, but it was obvious that he had already gotten it through his own means. Perhaps this is a hint that there is some sort of connection between them after all. He could be her godfather who would want to return what was connected to him, or he wants to using her as research into how viruses are able to enter into symbiosis with humans. Sherry mattered to him in some way, and everyone knew it, including Sherry herself.

— I think she's in love with Jake, but because of little contact with other people and the outside world, is too shy to admit it.

— She has a deep respect for Chris and Claire, and considers the latter as close as if she were her second mother.

— The animal in which I see Sherry is a weasel.

Chris Redfield

— I think his eyes are gray. Gray eyes in real life can appear a different color depending on the lighting. In different photos with different lighting, they can turn brown, blue, even green. So I like to think that the confusion about Chris's eye color came about because of his gray eyes, which are just unlucky.

— For some reason, Chris doesn't like to show his young photos. Perhaps he is embarrassed by the fact that he used to be thinner and "weaker". Perhaps it makes him feel insecure. Or maybe he doesn't like his rebellious nature from the past.

— He's a golden retriever puppy.

Ada Wong

— Ada doesn't use perfume while she's on a mission so she doesn't reveal herself.

— She is black cat.

Wesker

— He hates ties. Maybe he was forced to wear them at some point.

— Wesker gives a fake name in non-serious situations like tailoring or meeting with the hairdresser so people won't be embarrassed or try to suck up to him. His name is more influential than himself, and it's a thing he doesn't like to abuse.

— Perhaps one day he wondered if he should have glasses with an interface.

— His totem animal is a possum. He's so good at playing dead.

— There is a stereotypical opinion of him based only on the outward image he builds for others. Few people delve into the lore or what is behind his fake "cool" image. So many people are susceptible to the halo effect, this is a cognitive bias where a person has a prejudice against someone based on their appearance or certain actions. People subject to this cognitive bias do not look at this person with a broad view, slipping into prejudice. This is why many are convinced that Wesker can't be bottom, and aggressively lash out at those who think otherwise. I, on the other hand, believe that Wesker is flexible in this regard, which is maximally not obvious. Wesker to me is "that" character from the teen shows, who builds himself up to be cool, but at night cries from loneliness or is very vulnerable. He's bottom, but that doesn't degrade his ego, it doesn't make him weak, because "bottom" he's only with those who "worthy" of him.

— Speaking of worthiness, I believe that Wesker is unwilling to use his powers all the time by thinking of other people as unworthy. Only Chris is worthy to stand up to that power.

— Wesker keeps Chris's dog tag.

Jill Valentine

— Jill's favorite color is sky blue, as it was the color she chose for her uniform in S.T.A.R.S. and continued to wear throughout her life. Every outfit Jill wore on any mission had shades of blue in it. It is definitely a color that she appreciates very much.

— Jill is definitely not the best cook, she can hardly cook anything better than scrambled eggs. She share this skill with Chris, who isn't very good in the kitchen either.

— Chris is her best and closest friend, her partner. They mean a lot to each other, but it's always platonic.

— Jill's orientation is bi. She probably liked Carlos, but I won't deny that there could have been a close dynamic between her and some woman too. Jill, like Chris, doesn't have much time for a personal life, so she didn't go into much detail about her preferences, nor did she have an love affair.

— She didn't like Wesker even before the betrayal. Maybe she realized before anyone else that there was something wrong with the guy, so she figured out his betrayal before Chris did, who resisted the information. She is perceptive and able to see through people.

— Her totem animal is a manul.

— In the days of S.T.A.R.S., she was the one who woke Chris, sleeping at his desk, just before Wesker or Chief Irons came in. She would cover her lazy (in those days) friend from trouble, getting the brightest and most genuine smile from him. Wesker knew of their machinations, but turned a blind eye to this childishness.

— She tries not to think of the time she spent under Wesker's control. Her dislike for him has only gotten stronger because of it. Of the horrible things about those years was not only violence, but also being with Wesker and Excella. Excella's flirting with Wesker was repulsive to Jill. She hated every moment of it.

— After 2009 her hair was permanently white, because of this she dyes it back to its original brown color so that nothing reminds her of those days.