#these are pretty small but i think they look great

[image-id-amateur]

Image ID 1 a screenshot of a Tumblr comment from darkskinnedprivilege reads WHAT

Image ID 2 Yoshihiro Togashi at a Weekly Shōnen Jump meeting hosted by Kazushi Hagiwara, and had a meeting arranged between them by voice actress Megumi Ogata. [9] [10] She collaborated with Togashi as an assistant (doing screentone) and as a manager on volume 1 of Hunter x Hunter. However the work and the demands proved more than she had expected, and Takeuchi left Shueisha as a result.

Toki*MecaHunter x Hunter1

Around this time Takeuchi conceived the idea for a one-shot called Toki*Meka, which eventually turned into Toki*Meca. [11] Togashi had a similar idea at the same time as her, but never fully brought it to fruition. He helped somewhat with Toki*Meka at this point in developing the idea by drawing some concept sketches, which Takeuchi showed in Toki*Meca volume 1.

Togashi and Takeuchi married in 1999. From this marriage, the couple have two children: a son, born in January 2001, and another child, born in 2009. [12]

Image ID 3: a wedding announcement with an image of the couple framed by a heart. With Japanese text. The text reads "A new series has started. What will their newlywed life be like...?

Naoko Takeuchi

Princess and Prince's Wedding Punch!!"

Image ID 4: a simply drawn comic shows the couple as a lady bunny and gentleman doggie. Title reads "I GOT MARRIED TO TAKEUCHI NAOKO" each panel is described in order. Please keep in mind they are very cute doodles of said doggie and bunny.

The doggie proposes on one knee captioned "1. I asked for her hand in marriage."

The couple lie face first labeled "DYING OF EXHAUSTIN" the caption reads "2 We prepared the wedding"

A portrait of the couple in their wedding attire captioned "3 The wedding-ceremony"

The couple's heads are super imposed on a plane captioned "4. The honey-moon"

The couple are shown from behind. They sit side by side at their desks drawing. Caption reads "5 Working side by side"

The comic ends with the text "A GREAT THANKS FOR ALL THE CARDS WISHING FOR OUR HAPPINESS (YOU CAN STILL SEND SOME!)"

Image ID 5: a comic with the bunnies titled "BABY PUNCH!! STORY TIME Round. Princess Naoko and Prince Yoshihiro's struggles." Signed by Takeuchi Naoko. The title is surrounded by hearts and doodles of the lady bunny frustrated and the glasses wearing gentleman bunny confused and concerned. Each panel is described in order.

A header reads "THE PRINCE IS TOUCHED;

PUNCH"

First panel shows the bunny telling the puppy "hey, we're going to have a baby!" (quiet voice)

"The prince's reaction to the baby news was pretty weak" the puppy says "(quiet voice) Wow, you're kidding! I don't know what to say, I'm so excited!" He looks nervous with labels fidget and TROUBLED around him.

Second panel shows the bunny receiving an ultrasound. "At my first ultrasound..." The technician says "huh? There's no baby." The panicking bunny exclaims "WHAT?" In small text the technician says "that's odd"

Third panel shows a wonky kidney shape labeled womb. The technician says from offscreen "oh! There it is! In this nook" a teeny circle is shown in the smaller end which is connected to the main area of the womb by a narrow section.

Fourth panel shows the bunny at home watching the doggie from behind. The doggie is giggling and wagging his tail and labeled "the Prince always plays in the corner of the room" the bunny narrates "What a shy child! I wonder if this is really my baby? He got all happy when I told him" the doggie is thinking to himself "Makes me think it takes after me a little."

The final panel shows the bunny receiving another ultrasound with the teary eyed doggie looking at the screen. The bunny narrates "When he saw the baby at the next ultrasound, the Prince cried his eyes out" the bunny is thinking "wow he's his sobbing like a baby" the technician explains "This is the head, and the legs. It has a healthy heartbeat and is moving healthily." End ID 4]

Image ID 5: a screenshot allows a q and a format quote.

"Q: The relationship between Haruka and Michiru is quite ambiguous. Can you tell us about it?

A: The relationship between Haruka and Michiru is quite special. I think the most important feeling in the world is friendship. The friendship between them is so strong that it becomes love. There's not only heterosexual love, but there also can be a homosexual love, in this case between two girls.

Q: Haven't you had trouble for this choice because of your young public?

A: In Japan, strong girls are very popular. The tradition of my country has in the Tarazuka, the Japanese theater in which only women take part, the maximum level of feminine emancipation. These actress cover all roles of the plays, even the male ones. I was inspired by them to create Haruka. It wasn't easy to make children understand how there could be true love between two women. Haruka is a tomboy, she talks and dresses like a boy, and therefore it's natural she falls in love with Michiru." End ID 5]

[image ID 6: a screenshot of the Wikipedia page for Sailor Moon, the Female Homosexuality section reads "In a series with a largely female cast, relationships between the girls, real or imagined, were inevitable.

Canon

The following are characters with a lesbian sexual orientation that was made clear in the series' canon.

The only two openly homosexual Senshi of the series, their relationship is canon in both the anime and manga. They were in a relationship from their very first appearance and were quite honest about it. Haruka flirted with other girls quite often (particularly Usagi), and Michiru occasionally flirted with men, but they were dedicated to each other. They later became baby Hotaru's "mama" and "papa."

There is an image showing Neptune and Uranus embrace romantically in official art. End ID 6]

[image ID 7: a screenshot from an AMA forum reads: "Mvbmvb: Togashi sensei, how many characters with unclear genders will be in your new series? Will you introduce a completely new gender?

Yogashi_Toshihiro: Gender issues are one of the things I wish to tackle in this series. As I have mentioned before the main character of the series will be trans, and I hope to build off of that to create a very heartfelt and hard hitting tale about the role of gender as it pertains to everyday society." End image ID 7]

Image ID 8: another AMA screenshot reads "Matheus_Alves: How many inches my dick will grow if read Wagon Quest?

Yogashi_Toshihiro: I cannot guarantee any growth of your penis, but I can guarantee the growth of your mind." End ID 8]

it makes me so happy that the sailor moon lady and hxh guy are married and have been happily married for like 20 years with 2 kids

[nhlclover]

ALL'S FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR QUINN HUGHES

pairings: quinn hughes x fem!reader, (little bit of) jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: trevor invites you to a lakehouse for the summer, attempting to set him up with his friend. however, the summer doesn't go to plan when you meet his older brother who captures your eye and flips everything upside down.

warnings: very obviously angst, sort of a love triangle, jack and quinn kind of hating each other, slow burn, reader and trevor having a sibling type relationship, one singular kiss, brief appearances from trevor & luke

word count: 11.6k

notes: wooooo mama this is the absolute longest thing i've ever written. i really hope you guys enjoy it, i'm pretty happy with this.

The scene of the lake house standing tall in front of you was something straight out of your imagination. It was picturesque, the way the large house was nestled amongst the pine trees and the glimmering water sparkling behind it. It was just the way that Trevor had described it when he invited (or rather insisted) you to come to his buddy’s lake house this summer.

“You’ll love it! It’s so nice up there,” Trevor had urged, his enthusiasm infectious. You could still hear his voice, brimming with excitement. “It’s my friend Jack’s place. You guys would get along great! And his brothers are super chill too.”

At the time, you’d felt a mix of curiosity and skepticism. It’d been about three years you’d been friends with Trevor, long enough to know that when his tone got this excited and he was this insistent, he was up to something.

“Are you trying to set me up with him?” you’d asked, narrowing your eyes suspiciously at Trevor as the two of you sat in a coffee shop a few months ago. He had been uncharacteristically fidgety, bouncing his knee up and down while stirring his iced coffee with an unnecessary amount of focus.

Trevor had grinned at you in that annoyingly charming way he did when he was caught. “Nooo, I’m just saying you guys would vibe. He’s a cool guy. Super chill.”

You rolled your eyes, folding your arms across your chest. “Uh-huh. And his brothers?”

“Also cool!” Trevor leaned in, eyes sparkling with mischief. “But listen, Jack’s the one I think you’d really like. Just come for like, a week or two, see what happens. No pressure. I promise you’ll have fun.”

You’d hesitated, not entirely convinced. But Trevor knew exactly how to play on your curiosity, and a month later, you found yourself packing a bag for a summer getaway at some lake house owned by Trevor’s friend, Jack. Despite your reservations, a part of you was intrigued. What if Trevor was right?

The drive to the lake house had been a blur, punctuated by Trevor’s nonstop chatter and your own uncertain silence. You weren’t opposed to meeting Jack. Trevor had sung his praises for months, claiming you two had more in common than either of you realized. As far as setups went, this wasn’t terrible — you could trust Trevor to have good judgment. But still, you were unsure and slightly uneasy about the whole situation.

When you arrive, Jack is already waiting outside, leaning against the porch rail, hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts. He’s smiling — an easy, laid-back smile that makes you smile back automatically. The sun filters through the trees, casting warm, gold light on the porch, and for a moment, everything feels serene.

Trevor wasn’t lying when he commented about Jack’s appearance. “Some people call him a pretty boy but… I mean he is pretty, but he’s a good-looking dude, y’know?” He was definitely attractive, something anyone could admit you thought, but he wasn’t totally your type.

Trevor bounds up the steps of the porch, dapping up Jack and pulling him in for a hug. You followed, stopping at the bottom of the steps, watching as Trevor whispered something into Jack's ear, Jack’s eyes catching yours as a small smile appeared on his lips.

Jack steps forward, extending a hand. “Hey, you must be y/n. I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says, his voice warm with that relaxed confidence you’d expect from someone who’s used to being the center of attention.

You shake his hand, feeling the easy smile on your face widen a little. “All good things, I hope.”

Trevor laughs, throwing an arm around Jack’s shoulder. “Mostly good things.” He winks at you, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

Jack offers to give you a quick tour of the place, and you agree, letting him guide you inside while Trevor stays back, grumbling to himself about having to bring in your bags. The inside of the house is as beautiful as the outside, with high ceilings, wooden beams, and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the lake. Despite being a new build, it has a cozy, rustic feel to it. Jack pointed out each room as you went, keeping up a steady flow of conversation that put you at ease. He was friendly and thoughtful, making sure you felt welcomed, and it struck you as genuine. You could see why Trevor thought you’d get along with him.

“And this is the back deck,” Jack said as he pushed open a sliding door, revealing a sprawling view of the lake, with a dock stretching out in front of the property. The lake is glittering and relatively calm, aside from a figure disturbing the water. You squint, watching as the swimmer glides smoothly through the lake.

“Who’s that?” you ask Jack, eyes not leaving the figure as you watch him pull himself up onto the wooden dock, pushing dark wet hair from his face.

“That’s Quinn,” Jack says, following your gaze and glancing out toward the dock. “My older brother.”

The sun seems to linger on Quinn’s form, highlighting the toned muscles in his arms as he stretches briefly, rolling his shoulders to ease out any lingering tension from his swim. Droplets of water cling to his skin, catching the sunlight and tracing down his chest in slow, winding trails emphasizing the smooth contours of his muscles as they glisten.

“Q!” Jack shouts, whistling to get his brother’s attention. Quinn’s gaze snaps to the two of you, your pulse quickening as his eyes land on you. “Come up here!”

Quinn grabs his towel from the dock, throwing it over his shoulder as he makes his way up the lawn towards you. As he climbs the steps to the deck, you feel his eyes travel over you, not in a way that feels intimidating, but with a curiosity that mirrors your own. There’s something magnetic about him, something calm and steady that draws you in as he steps up onto the deck, his mouth curving into a small, barely-there smile.

“This is Trevor’s friend, y/n. She’s joining us for the summer” Jack introduces.

As Quinn’s gaze flickers back to you, you notice there’s something about the way he looks at you — subtle, assessing. His gaze has a certain depth, a look you can’t quite decipher. It lingers just a second longer than what feels typical, enough to make your heartbeat skip, to leave you questioning the flicker of interest in his expression.

“Nice to meet you,” Quinn says, his voice low and smooth, a perfect complement to the quiet confidence he exudes. He reaches out to shake your hand, and as your fingers meet, you notice how warm his touch feels, even with the cool water droplets still lingering on his skin.

Up close, he’s even more striking. There’s a sort of ruggedness to him, outlined by the sharpness of his jaw and the intensity of his gaze. His eyes, a greenish shade of blue, hold yours with a calm intensity that makes it hard to look away.

“Nice to meet you too,” you manage, your voice coming out softer than you intended, and you feel heat rise to your cheeks. You mentally kick yourself, hoping he doesn’t notice, but the glimmer in his eyes suggests otherwise.

Jack, oblivious to the undercurrent, clapped his hands, breaking the moment. “Alright, well, there’s more to see, and if we don’t get back, Trevor’s going to start whining about being abandoned,” he joked.

You chuckle, your eyes pulling away from Quinns’ for the first time since he joined you on the porch. But as you turned to follow Jack back inside, you couldn’t help but glance back at Quinn. He was still watching you, his expression softened just slightly, and you felt a quiet thrill at the way he watched you.

The first week at the lakehouse passes in a flurry of days that blur together in laughter and lakeside relaxation. You fall into an easy routine of swimming, grilling, and long talks on the deck. Jack and Trevor keep things lively, always organizing something, whether it’s an impromptu game of cornhole, a daring cliff dive, or a spontaneous trip into town.

With Jack, the connection forms fast. He’s lighthearted, quick with a joke, and endlessly charming. He keeps you laughing and keeps the vibe lighthearted. His energy is infectious, and he keeps you roped into every activity, whether it’s cliff-jumping or getting you to help him with dinner when it’s his turn. You can tell that Trevor’s plan to get the two of you set up is working for Jack, as he lingers closer, laughs harder at your jokes, and you begin to feel his gaze linger on you just a little too long.

But it’s Quinn who holds your attention in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

Quinn is different from Jack in nearly every way. Where Jack is open and quick to draw you into his orbit, Quinn lingers on the edges, observing and listening. When he speaks, it’s with a low, steady voice that commands attention without trying. And unlike Jack’s energy, which feels like the buzz of the sun overhead, Quinn’s is deep and mysterious like the lake.

You find yourself gravitating toward him at every opportunity, captivated by the way he moves through the days with an unruffled calm. The nights at the lake house slip into an easy rhythm, with Quinn and you inevitably being the last ones awake as the both of you are night owls. Most nights, you find yourselves lingering on the porch, wrapped in the gentle hum of crickets and the low whisper of the lake. With the others upstairs, fast asleep, you and Quinn fall into intimate conversations, shared only between the two of you.

One night, you find yourselves tucked away on the porch, the air a little cooler than the other nights. You are curled up on a rocking chair, bundled up in a hoodie you’d borrowed from Jack. Quinn sat across from you, the beer he’d started during dinner going warm in his hand.

Quinn studies you, his eyes catching the faint glow of the porch light as he swirls his bottle absentmindedly. “So,” he begins, breaking the comfortable silence, “What’s California like?” He leans forward, genuinely interested, his voice carrying a warmth that makes you want to spill everything about life on the West Coast.

A soft smile creeps onto your face. “It’s… different from here,” you admit, glancing out at the lake where the moon dances on the still water. “It’s a bit fast-paced. And warm. Lots of sun, lots of people. But sometimes, it feels like everyone’s moving so quickly that you get lost in the crowd.”

Quinn nods, his eyes steady on you. “I get it. I feel the same way about Vancouver sometimes. Coming back here… it just reminds me that there's more than the noise and rush. There’s… balance out here.” He gestures out toward the lake, his voice contemplative. “Like all of this has a way of pulling you back to what matters.”

His words resonate deeply, and you find yourself nodding. “Exactly,” you murmur. “It’s like there’s space to breathe. And you notice things that usually get lost in all the… chaos.”

Quinn’s gaze lingers on you a moment longer, a small smile forming at the corner of his mouth. “I’m glad you came. It’s been… good to have you here,” he says quietly, his eyes soft. “We don’t have other people up here often.”

Your heart pounds a little faster at the sincerity in his voice, and for a second, the rest of the world disappears. There’s only Quinn and the quiet lake, and the feeling that he understands you in a way you hadn't expected anyone to. You hold his gaze, feeling the electricity between you grow, filling the silence with something you can’t quite name.

But then, as if drawn back to reality, Quinn’s eyes shift, his expression subtly changing. “And Jack,” he says, almost as an afterthought. “He… really likes you, you know? He doesn’t say it, but I can tell.”

It feels like a splash of cold water. You break eye contact, pulling your hoodie closer around you, the warmth you felt moments ago dissipating. The weight of Jack’s interest hangs heavily between you and Quinn now, an undeniable reminder of the complicated line you’re toeing.

“Right, yeah…” you reply softly, looking down, your voice tinged with a mix of guilt and frustration. You hadn’t meant for this to get complicated, yet here you are, caught between two brothers who couldn’t be more different.

An uncomfortable silence settles over you both, thick and heavy. Quinn’s eyes linger on you, as if he’s about to say something more, but he holds back. His lips press into a thin line, and you wonder if he’s feeling the same conflict, the same confusion that’s twisting knots inside you.

You force yourself to look away, swallowing hard. “I think… I should probably head to bed,” you murmur, avoiding his gaze. You stand up, offering him a small, tight-lipped smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Goodnight, Quinn.”

Quinn nods, his expression unreadable as he watches you ebb towards the door. “Goodnight, y/n,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady, though there’s a flicker of something in his gaze — disappointment, perhaps, or longing. You slip inside, leaving him on the porch, the weight of his gaze heavy on your back as you close the door.

In bed, you toss and turn, Quinn’s words and the feel of his gaze lingering with you. Your mind is a whirlwind, caught between the easy, carefree friendship that’s growing with Jack and the simmering tension you feel with Quinn. Jack is perfectly nice and, like Trevor told you, the two of you were getting along swimmingly.

But no matter how much you try, your thoughts always drift back to Quinn. There’s something undeniably different about him, something that makes it impossible to feel the same way about Jack, no matter how hard you try. Jack’s presence is light and friendly but with Quinn… it’s like there’s a hidden gravity pulling you toward him, a quiet understanding that lingers beneath the surface of every conversation. Every night on that porch, he’s become your anchor, drawing you into a world that feels more honest, more intimate.

You lie there, staring up at the ceiling, your mind replaying the way he looked at you tonight — that almost undetectable spark that you’re sure you didn’t imagine. The way he listens to you, like every word matters, as he sees past the small talk and into the parts of you you rarely share. There’s no pretending with Quinn. And even though he’d mentioned Jack, it only made you realize how much more you’re drawn to Quinn. Jack might be developing feelings for you, but it’s Quinn who fills your thoughts, who leaves you breathless in a way you can’t ignore.

You pull the covers tighter around you, willing sleep to take you, but every thought seems to lead back to Quinn, to the way he made you feel seen, understood — even in silence.

The next morning, you do your best to shake off the lingering tension from the night before, determined to keep things light and normal. Under Jack’s enthusiastic suggestion, the group decides to spend the day out on the lake, hoping the sun and water will wash away any unease. It’s a sunny day, warm with a light breeze, and the water sparkles invitingly under the sunlight, making you think that everything might just go smoothly.

The boat is anchored in a calm spot on the lake and, despite the wonderful weather, there doesn’t seem to be another boat around. Trevor and Luke sit up in the bow, arguing about which mascot would win in a fight between Mr. Clean and Tony the Tiger.

Jack is quick to pull you into the action, handing you a beer from the cooler as he grins. “Alright,” he says, his smile as wide as the lake. “Are you ready for the full lake house experience? Because to really do that, you’ve got to jump off the boat at least once today.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you crack open the can. “I’m pretty sure you’re just making up rules to mess with me.”

He shrugs, a playful glint in his eye. “Maybe, but you have to do it anyway,” he shrugs.

Trevor chimes in, chuckling from his spot. “Jack’s right, y/n. First-time lake visitors have to jump. It’s tradition!”

You chuckle, your gaze drifting up to Jack as he stands in front of you. The sun shines directly behind him, casting him in a golden halo, the bright rays spilling around his frame in a way that makes him look almost ethereal. For a moment, you can see why anyone would fall for that charm. But even with this picture-perfect moment, you feel a pang of regret that you can’t feel more for him, because, somehow, your thoughts are pulled elsewhere and on someone else.

Jack’s laughter brings you back to the moment, and he leans a little closer. “Come on, we can make it a team effort. I mean, if you’re too nervous, I can just hold your hand.” His voice is playful, but there’s a hint of sincerity in his words, a hope that you’ll let him bridge the gap he’s trying so hard to close.

Your smile is genuine, but before you can respond, you hear Quinn's low chuckle from behind you. It’s soft, barely audible over the hum of the boat’s motor, but enough to pull your focus completely away from Jack. You glance back at Quinn who’s sat on the back bench, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, a flicker of something in his gaze as it bears down on the two of you.

Your attention is pulled back to Jack as he reaches for your hand in a gesture that feels both playful and pointed. “Come on, y/n, it’ll be an official initiation. We’ll jump together, yeah?”

Your gaze flickers between Jack’s outstretched hand and Quinn, who’s watching with an inscrutable expression, his eyes narrowed slightly as he leans back, crossing his arms. You can’t deny there’s an awkward tension here, a silent push-and-pull between the two brothers that seems to amplify whenever Quinn is nearby.

Swallowing the strange, charged feeling building between you all, you look back at Jack and nod, forcing a lighthearted smile as you stand up, pulling off the oversized t-shirt you wore as a coverup. You see Jack’s eyes scan your figure, hearing him gasp quietly. You blush, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, taking his hand. He grins in triumph, his fingers warm against yours as he helps you stand at the edge of the boat. He holds on a little tighter than necessary, and the flicker of anticipation in his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Ready?” Jack asks, his voice softer now, his gaze lingering a bit too long as he watches your expression. There’s a hopeful vulnerability in his face, a look that makes you hesitate for a moment. You don’t want to hurt him, but there’s a part of you that wishes he’d pull back, that he’d realize you’re not as invested in this connection as he is.

You manage a nod, hoping he doesn’t notice the small sigh you let slip. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

He beams, counting down with a quiet “three… two… one!” before the two of you leap into the lake together, the cool water rushing up to meet you. When you surface, you’re greeted by Jack’s laughter as he splashes you, pulling you into a playful water fight. You laugh along, though your eyes instinctively drift toward the boat, where Quinn looks over the edge, watching you both with an unreadable expression.

Jack’s laughter fades slightly as he notices your attention elsewhere, his face falling for a fraction of a second. But he quickly masks it, pulling you back with a light splash. “Hey, stay with me here,” he says, his tone half-joking, half-pleading. And you want to, you really do, but Quinn’s gaze is magnetic, and you can’t help but feel pulled toward him, as if there’s an invisible thread between the two of you.

Eventually, Jack climbs back onto the boat, reaching out to help you up. But the moment you step back on board, the charged silence returns, thick and stifling, as Quinn hands you a towel, his fingers brushing against yours just long enough to send a spark up your arm. You catch his gaze for a brief second, and you’re struck by the quiet intensity in his eyes, a longing that mirrors your own.

Jack clears his throat, his shoulders tensing slightly as he glances between you and Quinn. He lets out a forced laugh, trying to dispel the tension. “Alright, what’s next? We could always do another round of jumps, or maybe a swim to the dock?” He says it with an almost desperate cheerfulness, trying to regain your attention, trying to keep the moment light.

Trevor and Luke, sensing the tension, start bantering about who would be the fastest swimmer, their playful arguments distracting you all for a moment, lightening the mood just enough.

────୨ৎ────

The night air was crisp as laughter and the crackling of the fire filled the space around the lake house. The lake is quiet behind you, a dark, glassy surface reflecting only starlight. You were settled in a lawn chair, leaning back, watching as Trevor dramatically recounted a story about when you nearly crashed his car.

You could feel his eyes on you, searching for a shared smile, hoping to catch your gaze even as he chuckled at Trevor’s theatrics. Every so often, he'd lean in, commenting with a low murmur meant only for you. He’d even offered you his hoodie earlier, though the night wasn’t nearly cold enough to need it. It was endearing, if not a bit overeager. Yet, despite the obvious attention from him, your focus kept drifting across the fire.

Quinn sat across the flames from you, leaning back in an Adirondack chair. His attention was barely on the story, barely laughing with the others as you had been. Every now and then you’d catch his eyes flicker your way, lingering on you just long enough to send a thrill through your chest. Your stomach tightened with a quiet anticipation each time, though as quickly as the moment arrived, it vanished. Quinn’s gaze would shift, his attention lost somewhere in the darkness beyond the flames, leaving you wondering if you’d only imagined it.

As Trevor finally wrapped up his tale with an exaggerated flourish, the group’s laughter rang out again, filling the quiet night. You shifted in your chair, stealing a glance across the fire to see Quinn looking your way again, his expression unreadable in the dancing light. The firelight cast soft shadows over his face, illuminating his quiet intensity—a contrast to Jack’s open interest. And just as quickly as his eyes met yours, he looked away, his focus deliberately elsewhere, leaving you feeling a subtle ache of frustration.

Jack nudged your arm gently, his voice breaking the spell. “Hey, want to grab a drink or something? I think I saw some ciders in the cooler on the porch.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” you replied, a small smile curving your lips as you pushed yourself up to join him.

You could feel the weight of Quinn’s gaze on you, or maybe it was just wishful thinking. As you walked toward the porch with Jack, a pang of prickling guilt settled over you, leaving a heavy shadow with every step. Jack was wonderful — funny, kind-hearted, and clearly eager to spend time with you. And yet, there was an emptiness in each smile you returned to him, a hollowness you couldn’t ignore. You tried to shake it off, reminding yourself to appreciate his warmth and interest. But you couldn’t deny it. There was no spark, no unspoken gravity that pulled you toward him.

The two of you reached the porch, Jack handing you a cold can from the cooler, his fingers brushing yours briefly. He shot you a quick grin, the kind that seemed to hold a hundred different things he wanted to say. But the look in his eyes—the hopefulness, the eagerness—only tightened the knot in your chest.

Jack took a sip of his drink, leaning casually against the porch railing, his gaze still on you. “It’s nice here at night, isn’t it?” His tone was light, but there was an unmistakable softness to his voice, as though he wanted nothing more than to keep this moment between just the two of you.

“Yeah, it really is,” you agreed, looking out at the lake rather than meeting his eyes. “It’s peaceful.”

Jack’s voice was quieter when he spoke this time like he was mulling something over. “You know, it’s been great having you up here. I mean…I’m glad Z brought you here.” he said softly, though his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was a vulnerability there, one that made you want to reassure him, to ease the sting of your own uncertainty.

You wanted to tell him you felt the same, that you were excited, that his attention filled you with butterflies. But it didn’t. Not the way Quinn’s lingering gaze did, not in the way his silence could reach across the fire and wrap around you more tightly than any words Jack could offer.

And Jack could sense it. You could see it in the way his gaze fell just a bit, in the way he seemed to retreat into himself, trying to figure out where he’d lost you. A soft, sinking guilt bubbled up, but before you could say anything, he cleared his throat and looked at you, trying to keep the mood light.

“Should we head back?” he asked, giving you a small smile that tried to mask the disappointment behind his eyes.

You nodded, and as you followed him back toward the fire, your eyes drifted back to Quinn. Why did he have to make it so complicated? Jack was there, warm and steady, giving you his full attention, yet your heart kept tugging you toward Quinn — Quinn, who never gave you more than half-glances and unspoken hints. It was as though he knew the effect he had on you but chose to keep you guessing, leaving you in this restless, uncertain state. And every time he looked away, your chest would ache with a longing that you couldn’t shake, no matter how hard you tried.

You felt like you were making it up in your head. You felt like all of this was just concocted by your brain, a made-up situation. But then you’d think back to the nights when it was just the two of you, sitting across from one another on the porch, finding bits of commonality, causing you to talk for hours.

It was during those quiet nights, with only the soft hum of the lake and the occasional call of night birds, that the two of you would sit just a little closer, voices lowered as if sharing secrets with the stars. He’d be calm, reserved, but there’d always be a hint of a smile when you teased him about his stoic nature, a glint in his eyes when he’d challenge you back. It was in these moments that your doubts faded, that all the confusion seemed worth it.

But then the sun would rise again, and Quinn’s indifference would come back like the morning mist, blanketing any closeness you thought you’d found. The spark that seemed so real under the cover of night would dim, replaced by his guarded demeanor and quiet aloofness. It was maddening, this cycle of near-closeness followed by a cool retreat. He’d show you just enough to make you wonder, to keep you holding onto the memory of his quiet smile and that soft look in his eyes.

As you and Jack rejoined the group, you settled back into your chair, glancing across the fire toward Quinn once more. He was looking down, a hand idly fiddling with the edge of his sweater. There was something vulnerable about him in that moment, something that made you wonder if maybe—just maybe—he felt the same hesitation and uncertainty. You wanted to bridge that gap, to ask him if he ever felt the same tug, the same strange pull that made every shared glance linger in your mind.

But before you could even entertain the idea, Jack’s hand brushed your shoulder, pulling your attention back to him. He was smiling, his gaze as steady and warm as ever, making you wish you could return it with the same openness.

“Hey, you okay?” Jack asked, concern lacing his voice. You hadn’t realized the way you were chewing on your lip, or the way your brow was furrowed ever so slightly.

You nodded, giving him a soft smile that you hoped looked genuine. “Yeah, just…lost in thought, I guess.”

But as you said it, your gaze slipped across the fire once more, finding Quinn’s eyes fixed on you with that familiar, unreadable intensity. And for a fleeting second, you thought you saw a softness there, a hint of something deeper. It vanished just as quickly, but that one look was enough. It was enough to make you cast away the doubt that lingered in your mind, to dismiss the thought that this was all in your head.

The night dragged on, punctuated by laughter and more ridiculous storytelling from Trevor. Gradually, one by one, everyone began to call it a night. Luke was the first to slip away, yawning as he muttered something about wanting to have an early workout, clapping Trevor on the shoulder before heading inside. Trevor followed soon after, stretching with exaggerated laziness before flashing a grin and winking at you. “Don’t get into too much trouble out here,” he teased, earning a playful eye-roll from you.

Finally, it was just you, Jack, and Quinn. Jack was lingering, his eyes occasionally drifting to you with a look that hinted at something he wanted to say but couldn’t quite bring himself to voice. He shifted in his seat, clearing his throat as he looked at you, then glanced over at Quinn.

"Alright, I guess I’ll head in, too," Jack finally said, his tone reluctant. His gaze lingered on you for just a beat too long, as though he wanted you to ask him to stay or tell him that you would head up with him. But you didn’t, and after a quiet sigh, he nodded, gave Quinn a brief glance, then turned and headed inside, the screen door shutting softly behind him.

And then it was just the two of you.

The quiet stretched between you and Quinn, thick and tense, as the night air settled into a stillness that seemed to wrap around you both. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire and the soft rustle of the trees, and it was painfully quiet, each unspoken word between you two heavy with meaning. You could feel his presence, magnetic and steady, even across the fire. Finally, after a moment that felt like an eternity, you drew a deep breath and decided to speak.

“Quinn, can we talk?” Your voice was steady, but just barely. Quinn’s eyes finally locked with yours for the first time since before everyone began to filter to bed. Quinn nodded after a couple of seconds, giving you the silence to continue.

“I don’t know what’s going on between us,” you said softly. “But… fuck, I can’t stop thinking about you, and it’s driving me crazy. I need to know if it’s all just in my head or if you feel it too. Because if there’s a reason I feel this way… I need to know.”

You trailed off, heart hammering against your ribcage as the words hung in the air between you. For a moment, he didn’t respond, his expression unreadable, his face softened by the glow of the firelight. Then, with a sigh, he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he stared into the flames. His silence was torture, each passing second pulling you deeper into a pit of anxiety and frustration.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low and steady, as if he’d rehearsed this response in his mind countless times. “It’s not in your head,” he admitted, his gaze flickering up to meet yours. “There’s something here, between us. I feel it too.”

The words sent a rush of relief and hope through you, a spark that reignited all those moments spent wondering and waiting for some kind of sign. A soft smile spread across your face, the edges of your doubt finally beginning to soften. But then, his expression shifted, the corners of his mouth tightening as he looked away, eyes fixed on the shadows just beyond the firelight.

“But…” His voice was barely a whisper, rough around the edges. “It can’t go anywhere. Not with Jack. He’s…he’s into you.” He looked back at you, the regret in his eyes evident, a pain mirrored in your own chest. “I can’t do that to him.”

His words were like a punch to the gut, and the warmth of the fire suddenly felt distant, fading into a cold, empty ache spreading through your chest. You hadn’t expected it to hurt this much, hadn’t realized how much you’d been hoping he’d say the opposite, that he’d fight for whatever was happening between you.

You dropped your gaze, feeling foolish, vulnerable, exposed. “So that’s it? We just… pretend this doesn’t exist?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Like nothing’s been happening all this time?”

Quinn’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, his expression pained. “I don’t want to pretend. But I can’t… I won’t hurt him, not like that. He’s my brother.” He hesitated, his voice cracking slightly. “And he really cares about you.”

You swallowed hard. It felt ridiculous—being here, feeling so foolishly hopeful, only to be left with a hollow ache and a fractured connection that couldn’t ever be more. Part of you wanted to yell at him for leading you on, for those late-night conversations and stolen glances, for every unspoken word that now felt like a cruel joke.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I wish it could be different.”

The words left you hollow. Part of you wanted to fight, to tell him that what you felt couldn’t just be ignored, but another part — the part that knew him and understood his loyalty — couldn’t bring yourself to ask him to choose you over his brother. Not when you saw the conflict in his eyes, the pain that mirrored your own.

“Fine,” you whispered, barely able to meet his gaze. You stood up, the cool night air prickling your skin as you walked away from the fire, leaving him there in silence. You didn’t look back. It felt like your chest was filled with broken glass, each breath painful, as you made your way back to the house.

Inside, the stillness was almost suffocating. The others had already gone to bed, and the darkened living room felt cold and empty, mirroring the ache in your heart. You climbed the stairs to your room, shutting the door softly behind you as you sank onto the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the wall. A mix of anger and sadness filled you. You were mad at Quinn, for drawing you in only to push you away; mad at Jack, for being in the way even if he hadn’t meant to be; mad at Trevor, for ever convincing you to come here; and, perhaps most of all, mad at yourself, for letting your heart hope for something that could never be.

The next morning, a heavy quiet blanketed the lake house. You moved through the motions of breakfast with the others, but your thoughts felt distant, lost somewhere between the memories of last night and the weight of Quinn’s words. The morning was made slightly easier by the absence of Quinn who you were told went into the town early that morning to run errands and hit the gym. The guys bantered and talked about heading out on the boat, planning an afternoon on the lake, but you could only muster half-hearted nods and polite smiles. It was hard to focus, every small sound—the clinking of mugs, the soft scrape of a chair—only intensifying the ache you couldn’t shake.

Excusing yourself, you slipped away before anyone could ask questions, making your way down to the dock. The air was cool, a gentle breeze rippling across the lake's surface, and you sat at the edge, feet dangling above the water. You were still in your sleep outfit, not exactly pyjamas, but rather a comfy oversized hoodie and a pair of mens boxers. The familiar scent of pine and fresh earth surrounded you, but even the peaceful view couldn’t ease the storm of emotions inside.

The quiet was soon broken by the sound of footsteps approaching, and you didn’t need to look to know it was Jack. You felt him sit beside you, his presence warm and grounding. For a moment, he didn’t say anything — just let the silence settle between you both, as though he was waiting for you to be ready.

Finally, he cleared his throat, glancing sideways at you. “You okay this morning? You’ve been… quiet,” he said softly, his voice tentative, as if he were stepping carefully around broken glass. “Distant.”

You swallowed, bracing yourself as you met his gaze. His eyes were filled with genuine concern, a softness that only made this harder. “Yeah,” you murmured, looking back out at the lake. “Guess I just needed some space.”

Jack nodded, though he didn’t seem convinced. His fingers drummed nervously on the edge of the dock, and after a beat, he spoke again, his tone thoughtful, almost nostalgic.

“You know,” he began, eyes cast down at the water, “when Trevor told me he was bringing a friend this summer, he was so sure we’d hit it off. He kept going on about how you and I would be perfect for each other, that we’d get along great.” A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “I remember feeling this weird, excited energy like… maybe he was right, you know? Maybe I was going to meet someone special.”

You felt a lump forming in your throat as he continued, his voice carrying a warmth that was both comforting and deeply bittersweet.

“And when you got here…” He hesitated, his eyes meeting yours, as if to gauge your reaction. “I don’t know, it just… felt easy, from the start. Like we’d known each other forever. I started to feel like maybe Trevor had been onto something.” He gave a soft laugh, but there was no humor in it, just the weight of unspoken feelings.

“Things felt really good between us, and I thought you felt it too,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “So I started to get my hopes up—thinking maybe this was the start of something real.”

You winced, guilt gnawing at you. “Jack… I’m so sorry,” you said, your voice shaky. “I didn’t mean to lead you on, truly. I think you’re amazing. From the bottom of my heart, I just… I mean there’s gotta be some sort of spell this fucking house puts me under because I would be insane otherwise to not like you! You… you’re so perfect that any other girl would be scremaing at me, trying to claw my eyes out for not appreciating you. But… I just can’t. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Jack’s eyes softened, a mix of sadness and resignation settling in them. He looked down, his fingers still drumming but more slowly now, as if grounding himself. After a moment, he took a deep breath and let it out, his shoulders sagging slightly.

“I get it,” he murmured, though his voice had an unmistakable crack in it. “I mean… I think I get it. You can’t force something that isn’t there, right?” He gave a sad smile, one that tried to mask the hurt but didn’t quite succeed.

He stared out at the water, his expression distant, like he was trying to piece together what had gone wrong, or maybe just what he’d missed. A tense silence settled between you, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on the air around you. Jack cleared his throat, seeming to steel himself, his gaze searching your face as if looking for an answer to a question he hadn’t yet asked.

“Can I… can I just ask you one thing?” he said, voice barely above a whisper. His vulnerability in that moment was palpable, and you could feel your heart pounding, bracing yourself for what was coming.

You nodded, feeling your throat tighten.

“Do you… have feelings for Quinn?”

The words hung in the air, heavy and painful, and a part of you wished he hadn’t asked. But the look in his eyes told you he needed to know, that the uncertainty was gnawing at him just as much as the truth might.

Slowly, you nodded, a tear slipping down your cheek as you whispered, “Yes.”

A heavy silence fell between you, and Jack seemed to shrink a little, his shoulders slumping as he took it in. Jack’s gaze fixed on the lake, and for a long moment, he said nothing. You could see the effort it took for him to keep his expression neutral, to keep his emotions tightly bound. His voice was quiet when he finally spoke.

“So, you… you and Quinn. Is there… anything actually happening between you two?” He glanced at you, a flicker of something raw in his eyes — hope, maybe, or just the need to understand.

You shook your head, offering a small, bittersweet smile. “No, Jack. We’re… we’re not together. We won’t be.”

He looked at you, brow furrowed. “Why not?” he asked softly, his confusion obvious. “If you feel that way about him, why wouldn’t you try?”

You took a shaky breath, the words catching in your throat. “Because Quinn… Quinn’s too good of a brother. He’d never go for me because of you… and because of what he knows you feel.”

Jack blinked, his brow furrowing as he took in your words. “Wait—what does that mean? Because of me?” he asked, his voice laced with confusion. His gaze softened, and you could see he was fighting to keep his tone steady, like he was trying not to hope.

You sighed, feeling a bittersweet ache settle in your chest. “Quinn told me he could never be with me because he knows how you feel. He doesn’t want to hurt you, Jack.”

Jack’s jaw clenched, a flicker of frustration flashing across his face. “So… let me get this straight,” he muttered, almost incredulously. “He’s not doing anything about how he feels—because of me?”

You nodded, and Jack fell silent, staring down at his hands, which had stopped drumming and were now clenched tightly in his lap. He seemed deep in thought, his brows furrowed as he processed what you’d just told him. The lake was quiet around you, the stillness broken only by the occasional ripple of water.

For a long time, Jack didn't say anything, just stared down at the water, his brows drawn together. You could almost feel the weight of his thoughts, the way he was wrestling with everything that had just been laid out. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, raw.

“So he… he cares enough to stay away,” Jack said slowly, the words laced with a sadness that felt almost like admiration. “That's… just like him.” He took a deep breath, forcing a small, sad smile. “I wish things were different. I wish we could just rewind, go back to the start of summer and… and pretend this never happened.”

You swallowed hard, his words striking a chord deep within you. “Me too,” you whispered, eyes burning with unshed tears. “I never wanted any of this to happen, Jack. The last thing I wanted was to hurt you.”

Jack looked over at you, his expression softening, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of the easy, unburdened friendship you’d had in the beginning. “I know,” he murmured. “You’re not the kind of person who’d do this on purpose. It’s just… life, I guess. It’s complicated, ‘n messy as hell. And… maybe Trevor was right. We do get along. Just… maybe not in the way he thought we would.”

He smiled, a genuine one this time, though tinged with a sadness he couldn’t hide. “Maybe someday… I won’t feel this way,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible above the soft lapping of the lake against the dock. “But for now… I think I just need a little space. Time, maybe.”

You nodded, understanding that this was what he needed, even if it hurt to hear. “I get it, Jack. I do.”

Jack gave a nod, his gaze returning to the water, the weight of unspoken words settling over the two of you. In the next moment, he reached over and gave your hand a small squeeze—a quiet truce, an understanding. Then he stood, brushing off his shorts and glancing back at the house.

“I’ll be up at the house for a bit,” he murmured, the distance in his tone unmistakable. With that, he turned and walked back up the dock, his footsteps slow and heavy.

In the following days, there was a noticeable shift in the air; everyone felt it, though no one dared to name it. Conversations were stilted, laughter felt forced, and even the once-lively dinners had become quiet affairs, each of you treading carefully as if one wrong word might shatter the fragile peace that held you all together. Jack avoided you and Quinn as much as he could, lingering at the edge of group activities, his usual easygoing energy replaced by something more closed off, guarded.

Quinn, for his part, kept his distance too, his usual calm presence clouded by an unspoken tension. It was as if he knew that the delicate line he was walking might snap at any moment, sending everything spiraling out of control.

You couldn't ignore the heaviness that had settled over the house, a tangible sense of tension that made everything feel off-kilter. As much as you'd wanted this summer to be an escape, it had become the very opposite — a painful reminder of all the ways things could go wrong.

That evening, after everyone had gone to bed, you found yourself wide awake, thoughts racing. The decision took shape slowly, a reluctant resolve that you couldn’t shake. You needed to leave. Staying here, caught between the fractured pieces of what had been and what could never be, was too much to bear. The thought of facing both brothers day after day, watching Jack’s guarded smiles and Quinn’s restrained distance—it was too much. They deserved space, and, you realized, so did you.

With a deep breath, you grabbed your phone and booked a flight out for two days later, the earliest you could manage. You barely slept, running through potential conversations in your mind, eventually deciding you were only going to tell Trevor and slip out quietly, not wanting to cause anymore issues.

You forced yourself to push through the pain and awkwardness during the two remaining days until you would be returning back to California. As the days inched closer to your departure, the weight of unspoken words grew heavier, settling into every corner of the lake house. You caught glimpses of Jack, his face turning away when he thought no one was watching as if even looking at you and Quinn felt like reopening an unhealed wound. Quinn’s glances were no less fraught, though his were filled with a wistful restraint, as if he was already mourning the loss of something that had barely even begun.

The dinners, once filled with laughter, now passed in subdued tones, each person more focused on their plate than the conversation. You found yourself counting down the days and hours, conflicted between the need to escape the tension and the ache of leaving it all behind. In those last two days, you kept reminding yourself that soon, you’d be on a plane back to California, back to your own life — away from Jack’s pained looks and Quinn’s longing stares.

Your final day there, you packed your belongs up quickly, hoping Trevor would buy your excuse of not wanting to miss your flight as a good reason for him to take you to the airport early, and not because you couldn’t bear to spend one more hour in this suffocating oasis. Everyone else was lounging by the water, with the exception of Jack who lingered in the kitchen, opting to do the dishes rather than be around the others. He was lost in thought when he heard the patio door slide open and shut, the sound of bare feet padding against the hardwood. He turned to the entrance of the kitchen, seeing Quinn wearing his boardshorts and a slightly guarded look.

Quinn stopped at the threshold, eyes flicking briefly to Jack’s hands as he scrubbed the dishes. They were tense, knuckles white around the plate he held, and the silence between them was palpable and heavy. Jack set down the dish with a clatter, bracing himself on the edge of the sink, not looking at Quinn. Jack didn’t give Quinn time to speak. The words erupted from him, fueled by everything he’d been holding back.

“Do you even understand what you’re doing?” Jack’s voice was low and seething, barely contained. He didn’t wait for an answer, didn’t dare let Quinn get a word in. “You’re hurting her, Quinn. A perfectly nice girl, who came here not looking for this mess but got dragged into it anyway. And the worst part is, you know it. You know it, and you’re still just… sitting back like a damn martyr, thinking that by staying distant, you’re somehow making it easier for everyone. That by holding back, you’re sparing her, sparing me.”

Jack’s words cut through the quiet, sharper than the silence that had settled in the house over the past days. The vulnerability in his tone was raw, scraping against Quinn’s stoic expression. Quinn shifted uncomfortably but didn’t interrupt; he only looked at Jack, his gaze unwavering.

“And you know what? I kind of hate you for it,” Jack continued, voice unsteady. He turned his head just enough for Quinn to catch the anger, the hurt in his eyes. “I hate that you waltzed in and just took her from me without even trying. And, yeah, maybe that’s selfish. Maybe I never really had a chance, but she was still there, and I was trying. I was there, damn it!”

Quinn finally took a step forward, but Jack cut him off again, his hands clenching at the counter. “And I hate you for pretending like you’re doing the right thing by telling her nothing will happen. You act like you’re some noble saint by ‘staying away,’ but it’s a lie, Quinn. It’s a lie, and we both know it. You’re holding back because you’re scared — scared to go after what you really want, and in the end, you’re just making it worse for everyone. For her. For me.”

Jack’s voice wavered, then cracked, as he finally fell silent, chest heaving from the force of his confession. The words had cost him, as if each syllable had drawn blood. The only sound in the room was the dripping of the faucet, each drop amplifying the tension between them.

Quinn stayed quiet for a long moment, his gaze steady as he absorbed every word. He studied Jack, weighing something unspoken. “Would you hate me if I went for her, then?” His tone was gentle, almost hesitant, a softness that Jack hadn’t been prepared for.

Jack’s jaw tightened. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I probably would.” He ran a hand through his hair, a bitter laugh escaping him. “I mean I hate you right now for making her feel the way she does. But it shouldn’t matter, Quinn. Not if you two… if you actually care about each other.” Jack’s voice faltered, breaking under the weight of his own honesty. “Look, I’ll get over it. In time. But don’t waste what could be something good just because you’re trying to spare everyone. It’s pointless, and it’s selfish. You need to get to her before it’s too late.”

Quinn could feel Jack’s anger and pain, an emotion so raw and tangled it clawed at the air between them. For a second, Quinn thought of how different things could have been if he had stayed on the sidelines, if he hadn’t let himself get close to you. But as Jack’s gaze softened, an odd understanding settled between them. Jack wasn’t letting go easily, but he was letting go.

Jack’s shoulders slumped, exhausted, as he ran a hand over his face. “She’s leaving today, you know?” he said to Quinn, a look of surprise appearing on his face. “Trev told me last night she booked her flight out for this afternoon.”

Quinn’s face fell, and the guarded look faded, replaced with something dangerously close to panic. He hadn’t known—hadn’t expected that this was it. That today was the end.

“She’s leaving?” Quinn asked, Jack nodding. “Why didn’t she say anything? W-why is she leaving?”

“Because why would she stay?” Jack said. “She’s going to protect herself. She’s not gonna stay here, hoping for something that won’t happen. She’s too smart for that.”

The realization struck Quinn like a punch to the gut, leaving him breathless. Jack's words echoed in his mind, each one sharper than the last. She’s leaving. Of course, she would. She wasn’t the type to hang around hoping for some half-hearted promise or for Quinn to finally decide what he wanted. She deserved so much more than waiting for him to get his act together.

Jack's voice softened, pulling him back to the present. "Quinn, it’s not too late. She hasn’t left yet. If you really care about her, don’t let her go like this."

Quinn’s gaze faltered, a flicker of something vulnerable crossing his expression. Could he really undo the damage he’d done by staying away? Could he find the words to convince her that, despite his silence, he’d felt everything just as deeply as she had?

A heavy silence followed before Quinn found his voice. “What… what should I say to her?”

Jack shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping him. “You really think I’m giving you advice on how to get the girl I wanted?”

Quinn’s face softened in a rare, grateful smile. “Fair enough.” He hesitated, then turned, steeling himself as he left the kitchen, leaving Jack to his own fractured thoughts.

Quinn climbed the stairs two at a time, his pulse racing with every step, anticipation and fear warring within him. As he reached the top, he saw Trevor just exiting your room. Trevor paused, giving Quinn a look that held no small amount of concern.

“I don’t know what went down between you three,” Trevor said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “But I care about her, and I don’t like seeing her like this. You going to fix whatever mess this is?”

Quinn’s chest tightened. He knew Trevor had been close to you, learning this summer just how much of a big brother figure he was to you. He couldn’t fault him for looking out for you.

“I’m going to fix it,” Quinn said, his voice quiet but firm. He met Trevor’s gaze, hoping to communicate the sincerity in his words. “I have to.”

Trevor didn’t say anything else, but he gave Quinn a long, steady look, as though weighing whether to believe him. Then he gave a nod and shifted your duffle bag, stepping aside to let Quinn pass. With a final glance at Trevor, Quinn walked to your door, his heart racing. Quinn stood outside your door for a moment, his hand hovering above the doorknob. He knew what he needed to say, but a part of him feared that the damage was already done. Bracing himself, he knocked gently before pushing the door open.

You were standing by the window, your zipped duffle bag sitting on your bed. Your back was to the door when Quinn entered, and for a moment, he almost turned around, the words caught in his throat. But then you turned, your eyes meeting his.

“Are you really going?” Quinn asked, his voice quiet and strained.

You nodded, stepping away from the window and closer to Quinn. “I think it’s best. This whole summer has just… it’s too much, Quinn. I didn’t come here expecting any of this, and now I just feel… caught. And I can’t keep feeling this way.”

Quinn swallowed, his gaze never leaving yours. He looked as though he was battling something heavy, words lingering on his lips, waiting to escape. He stepped forward, close enough that you could see the faint circles under his eyes, the fatigue that seemed to pull at his features.

“I didn’t expect any of this either,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “And I get it — you’re right. I hurt you. I know that. I thought… I thought if I kept my distance, it would somehow make it easier for everyone. That maybe you'd move on from this — move on from me, and be with Jack. I thought it would hurt less.”

You held his gaze, your voice low but unwavering. “Do you have any idea what that did to me, Quinn? All summer, feeling this… this connection between us, and thinking that I had to be imagining it because you couldn’t even look at me. And you’re saying you did that on purpose? To protect me?” Your voice trembled. “That’s not protecting me. That’s running away.”

Quinn took a shaky breath, stepping closer, his expression taut with regret. “I know I messed up. I was spineless and I should have told you the truth sooner.” Quinn said, bowing his head briefly before forcing himself to look up at your hurt eyes. “I told myself that it was better this way, but all I was doing was lying to myself. Because every time I saw you… every time I heard your laugh, or watched you talk to Jack, or caught you looking at me — I couldn’t breathe.”

Quinn took one last step forward, less than a foot away from you. He raised his hand to reach you, fingertips grazing your arm gently, as if he feared you might pull away. “But I care about you, more than I thought possible. And I was afraid of that. Afraid of hurting Jack, afraid of hurting you… and afraid of wanting you this much.” He swallowed, his voice growing rough. “But I can’t let you leave without knowing how I feel. I want to be with you I — I need to be with you.”

Your breath hitched, the confession settling over you like a warm, crushing weight. This was what you’d wanted, but it also brought a whirlwind of conflicting emotions crashing down. You took a small step back, just enough to put some distance between you, needing space to gather your thoughts.

Quinn was saying everything you wanted to hear from the beginning. Laying his feelings bare, and exposing his heart in a way you hadn't expected from someone as reserved as him. It was like seeing a hidden part of him, one he’d kept carefully guarded. The vulnerability in his eyes made it clear that this was as terrifying for him as it was thrilling for you.

But in the back of your mind, Jack lingered, his hurt and disappointment woven into every stolen glance and quiet moment of the summer. The image of his face as he realized how you felt about Quinn was something you couldn’t shake. The memory clawed at you, guilt mixing with the longing Quinn’s words evoked.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear that,” you said, voice catching. “But Quinn… Jack — he tried so hard with me this summer, and I couldn’t give him what he wanted because of… well, because of you.” You hesitated, torn between the longing in Quinn’s eyes and the memory of Jack’s earnest, hopeful glances. “The last thing I wanted was to hurt him. And I feel like I’ve done enough damage by just… being here.”

Quinn’s gaze softened, his hand lingering just above your arm, hovering close as if he wasn’t ready to let you go. “I know,” he murmured. “I know it’s complicated. But I talked to Jack this morning. He told me… he told me to come up here and talk to you. To tell you how I felt. He wants you to be happy, and he knows that’s not with him. He’ll get over it.”

“Jack said that?” you whispered, barely able to believe it.

Quinn nodded, a slight smile tugging at his lips, though there was sadness in his eyes. “He might hate me for a while, and I can live with that. But he said I’d regret it if I let you go. And… he was right.”

His hand, warm and steady, traced down your arm, his fingers slipping around yours with a gentle firmness. The touch, gentle but insistent, sent a jolt through you. “I know I’ve messed up,” he murmured, voice barely a whisper. “But if you’ll let me, I’ll make it right. I want this, us… if you do too.”

You nodded, words escaping you as Quinn stepped even closer, his free hand lifting to gently cup your face. His thumb brushed against your cheek, and you could feel the slight tremor in his touch. He leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away, but you didn’t.

His lips barely brushed yours, soft and tentative. Your breath mingled together briefly before your lips locked together. He lingered for a heartbeat, savoring the closeness as if he, too, couldn’t believe this was real. Then, with a surge of emotion, the kiss deepened, all the restraint and hesitation of the summer dissolving as his hand rose to cradle your cheek, holding you to him as though afraid you might disappear.

His stubble that had grown out over the last couple weeks of summer scraped along your jaw and chin, leaving a faint burn that only added to the rush of sensation.

When you pulled back, both of you breathless, he rested his forehead against yours, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I’ve wanted to do that since the day you got here,” he murmured, a hint of relief in his voice.

You giggled, staying close and feeling his heartbeat echoing against yours. The silence that followed was thick, but it was different now — no longer tense or uncertain like it had been for most of the summer. It felt as though the weight had been lifted from both of your shoulders.

But even in that moment, you knew the reality of what this would mean—for Jack, for Quinn, and for yourself. There was a part of you that still ached, remembering Jack’s quiet disappointment and knowing it would take time to heal the wounds this summer had left behind.

You swallowed hard, raising a hand to Quinns face and brushing aside his dark locks that fell over his eyes. “I still think I need to go,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Not because I don’t want this. I do. But I think both of you need time, and maybe I do too. To let everything settle.”

Quinn nodded, understanding settling over his expression. “I get it,” he replied, taking your hand in his and giving your palm a soft kiss. “I’ll be here when you’re ready. Take all the time you need.”

Quinn let you slip from his arms, his heart squeezing as he watched you grab your bag and exit the room. As you descended the stairs with your duffle bag slung over your shoulder, you saw Jack waiting near the door. His expression softened as you approached, a bittersweet smile crossing his face.

“So, this is it?” he asked, his voice gentle but with an undercurrent of acceptance.

You nodded. “Yeah, I think it’s best. Thank you, Jack. For understanding. And… for everything.”

Jack gave a short nod, his gaze momentarily flickering towards the stairs where Quinn had stopped to watch from a distance. He returned his gaze to you and managed a small, sincere smile. “Go live your life. I wish you and Quinn all the best.”

You hugged him, both of you holding on just a second longer than necessary. When you pulled back, you could see the mix of emotions in his eyes, but there was a sense of peace there too. He’d let go, not because it didn’t hurt, but because he genuinely wanted you to be happy. You felt your heart swell, gratitude mixing with the faint sting of regret for the friendship that would never quite be the same. But Jack’s words lifted the weight off your shoulders, letting you and Quinn move forward.

With a final look, you stepped outside, Trevor waiting to drive you to the airport, his brow furrowed in confusion at the way you suddenly had pep in your step, a small smile present on your lips that had been missing for weeks. As the car pulled away, you stole one last glance at the lake house, catching a glimpse of Quinn watching you from the porch. He raised a hand in a small wave, and you returned it, a soft smile on your lips.

This summer hadn’t turned out anything like you’d expected.

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green - Part 24

masterpost

“We should make H— Jason spend some time in here,” Danny said. He was good with the rest of the name now, but he still struggled with with Jason. He was trying. “He could use the reason to relax.”

“I do not believe that Todd is capable of relaxing,” Damian said with a little frown and Danny was pretty sure meant Damian was uncertain, but other people tended to think that it meant Damian was judging them.

“Sure he can. He makes a great pillow too,” Danny said. He leaned over and bumped his shoulders against Damian’s. “Totally bet if you just just sat down and leaned against him, he wouldn’t do anything.”

“Tch.”

“Okay, sure, half of that would be because he’d be too shocked, but really. He’s secretly a cuddler but, like, in a totally different way than Dick. Jason is more like Cass is.”

Damian’s brows were knitted together, but he gave a considering little nod at that.

Danny was glad that Damian went through the door to the hall first. He wasn’t sure when it had happened, exactly, but being out of the apartment now felt wrong and bad and… scary. Danny knew that had delayed them taking him to the Manor and was making some of them anxious, but Danny just couldn’t… it was hard to shake, even if everywhere they went had been safe.

“How were the kittens, Dandelion?” Jason asked. He was leaning against one wall and Lacey stood next to him, looking at something on her phone.

“Pointy,” Danny said with a little smile, “and very cute.”

“We are going to go see the dogs now instead,” Damian said.

“Okay,” Lacey said with a smile. “Your brother and I were talking about what might work for you. I think we have a few options, but I actually have someone in mind for you to meet first of the bunch. She might not work at all but… I have a hunch.”

“As ludicrous as it sounds, Ms. Lacey’s hunches do often play out,” Damian said. “Which dog are we going to see?”

“You haven’t met her yet. She just came here from another shelter because the last one didn’t have the space for her. Before that she was out in the suburbs where she had been adopted, but she kept trying to herd all the other animals and children. They got her from a shelter where she had been surrendered by her owners because they moved to a new apartment that wouldn’t let a dog like her in.”

Danny frown grew as Lacey talked. “Oh, wow… she’s been through a lot of homes, hasn’t she?”

“She has, and it’s really not her fault. She’s only a year and a half old, so she’s still a bit of a puppy and will need training, but she’s a real sweetheart and I think she just needs the right person to love her back.” Lacey paused in front of a door and opened it to some sort of waiting room. “Now, she is a large dog, so I’ll keep her on a harness when I bring him in and you let me know when you’re comfortable for her to come close, okay?”

“Okay,” Danny agreed. He knew he had told Damian not small, but he was suddenly a little concerned by how large was large.

Jason must have been able to tell, because he led Danny over to the small couch to sit down with him while Damian scooted the chair he chose closer to Danny’s open side.

Very, was the answer to how large was large a few minutes later when Lacey brought in a huge dog. The bright red harness barely visible through the mass of black fur that seemed to stand straight out from the dog in a massive mane.

“Okay, come on girl, down,” Lacey said, drawing out the words.

When the large, deep black eyes turned to her, she pointed purposefully at the ground. The dog huffed and settled on the floor looking like some avant guard throw pillow. She snuffed curiously at the group and shuffled forward a few inches on her belly before peering up at Lacey to see if she was noticed.

“Stay. Like I said, still a puppy,” Lacey said fondly.

“What breeds do we suspect she is?” Damian asked.

“She’s definitely a large part chow,” Lacey answered. “She has the black mouth and everything. We’re guessing black lab maybe as some of the rest or some other sporting dog. From those breeds, and her behavior so far, she’s going to be loyal and protective. She will need to be exercised as specially at this age she’ll have a lot of energy, but I know you have the yard to let her run. Fetch or retrieval games will be great stimulation for her and walks can probably be kept pretty short, but I know that Damian could help you train her. Do you want to come over here and let her smell your hand? Or we could just let her settle in and wander the room.”

“I’ll, um…” Danny trailed off as he moved to sit down on the ground at Jason’s feet. He leaned forward and offered his hand, stretching out as far as he could.

The mass of fluff crept forward a few inches, then a few more, and the last few to where she was close enough to sniff at Danny’s hand. The curly tail started to wag before the dog gave Danny’s hand a lick.

A small smile lit up Danny’s face. “Oh, you’re just a big fluffy sweetheart, aren’t you?”

“She really is. She gives me the biggest puppy dog eyes every time someone passes her and doesn’t give her attention. She really wants nothing more than to be with people or other pets and part of a family,” Lacey said.

Danny watched the dog snuff at Danny’s hand before he decided that it was probably okay to move forward a little more so that he could pet the dog. His fingers sank into the thick black fur and the curly tail started to wag.

“She’s kinda like a big teddy bear,” Danny said, completely missing the look that Damian and Jason exchanged behind his back at that statement.

“Chows are like that.,” Lacey agreed. “They get a bad rep because they can be really protective of their owners, so if she’s the dog you go with, you will need to work on socializing her. Taking her to the dog park or things like that would be a good step.”

“It will help that there is such a large amount of family and acquaintances coming and going from the manor,” Damian added. “But if she is the dog that will be yours, we can easily set up a plan for socialization.”

“I, um, I’ve never adopted a pet before. How do I know if she’s the right one?” Danny asked.

“Seeing if you get a long is a good start. With a big dog like her, I think you should walk him a little and play some. We can try some tricks too and see how she listens to you,” Lacey said. “We have a two week trial window where if you think she’s the right dog, she’ll go home with you and you can see how it all works out. If it doesn’t, she comes back here no issues.”

Danny took in a calming breath and let it out. “Okay, let’s see how it goes.”

The dog was a lot. There was no doubt about that what with her size, but she did seem very eager to listen. She apparently walked very well with Danny, even if that was almost sandwiched up against Danny’s side between him and the road. It reminded him of how Jason always walked, as if guarding Danny from the world.

There back at the shelter now. Danny buried his fingers in the dog’s thick fur, ruffling it idly.

“What do you guys think?” he asked his brothers.

“I think that she will be a loyal dog for you,” Damian said, “and that training her may also be beneficial for you.”

“That,” Jason said, “and that she likes you already just like you like her already. I think the only real question is what’s her name going to be?”

Danny looked down at the almost bottomless seeming brown eyes that were staring adoringly back up at him. “Ursa. Her name’s Ursa.”

-

Ursa took to the Manor immediately— or at least took next to being by Danny’s side in the manor. His bed seemed much smaller with her laying next to him, but he had a feeling it he woke up that night with a nightmare that it wouldn’t last long.

His fingers tightened in her mane as he took a breath and hit send on the text message to Babs.

Her name is Jasmine Fenton.

[bittersw33t-lotus]

Little Life

Ghosting Series pt. 3

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem! Reader

Cw: pregnancy stuff, reader is female, cursing (let me know I I missed anything)

A/N: sorry if this is very short the chapters may be pretty short just so my motivation to keep writing can stay.

Part 2 here

“Alright hon, if you can lay on the bed and lift you shirt over you belly please.” Dr. Raven says, the woman pointing to the dull looking patient bed with thin paper lining fitted over the top.

You follow her words and sit down on the bed, the cushion was surprisingly comfortable to sit on. You bring your shirt up over your stomach stopping at your rib cage and lay back waiting for Raven to prepare for the scanning. You watch as she brings out a plastic bottle you assumed was the gel, as she opened the plastic cap as she looks at you. “Okay, I’m going to put this on your abdomen. Be prepared, this will be cold.” She says as she squeezes the bottle over your stomach, the bright translucent blue gel slithers out the opening and trails down towards your stomach.

The moment it makes contact with your skin, your stomach retracted back at the cold viscous material. You shudder a breath and laugh a bit. “You weren’t lying.” You joked as Raven smiled and chucked at your response.

“Always takes them by surprise.” She says before she finishes squeezing the bottle, pulling it away and closing the cap back on. Placing it down on the table beside her she grabs the transducer clicking a few buttons and the screen turns on. She places the nub against your abdomen and spread the gel around your stomach and looks at the screen seeing the scan coming through as she adjusts it to hover where your uterus is.

You watch the screen feeling a bit anxious as you watch trying to figure out exactly what you were seeing, after a couple seconds you soon immediately spot a little white blob. A baby.

“There it is. Your baby.” She tells you as you stare at the screen in awe. That’s really inside you. Your baby slowly growing by the second, yours and Simon’s baby.

“So tiny.” You say as Dr. Raven nods to your words.

“You’re only eight weeks currently, it looks like you and the baby are doing just fine so far, baby is healthy and growing, overall you’re both doing great. I’ll provide you with some prenatal vitamins for you to take. I did notice in your readings, your blood pressure is a bit high than we’d like it to be so I need you to make sure you’re not overworking yourself, do more things to keep you calm and not focus and do things that cause you such distress if that’s possible. Other than that, you’re all set and good to go. Do you have any questions for me?” Dr. Raven says as she takes a few pictures of the scan to print out for you.

You breathe out in relief, the baby is all good. You figured the high blood pressure was definitely caused by the whole situation with Simon so you don’t know how you can make yourself forget about it, on top of that you’ve also been worried about finding a place to live and trying to figure out your financial situation now with Simon out of the picture. You take a deep breath and nod at Dr. Ravens advice. “I’ll be sure not to.” You tell her with a small smile as she hands you a paper towel to wipe off the gel, which you take.

“Would you be comfortable with telling me about the cause for your mental or physical wellbeing may be? Anything that maybe I could help you with if possible.” She asks you; you can spot the concern in her eyes when she brings it up.

You shake your head and ignore the feeling you felt as she brings it up but regardless you smile and shake your head. “Just trying to deal with not having the father in the picture. He decided he didn't want to be around." You tell her as she nods, understanding your words.

"I'm sorry to hear that." She tells you as you simply shrug your shoulders pulling you shirt back down.

"it's fine, think we'll be better off without him anyways.” You tell her. It's true, to an extent, at least that’s what keep telling yourself. You know you can do this all on your own. It won't be easy, but you hope you can manage. But deep down, you know you'll never be okay not having him by your side. He’ll miss out on so much, like watching your baby grow, learning and growing along with the baby as that baby also learns from you. You both won’t grow old together like you both wanted, with a bunch of animals, but with the baby included, maybe one or two more if things had worked out in the end.

You finish up the remaining paper work you had to sign and received your vitamins. Dr. Raven hands the ultrasound pictures to you in a white envelope and you make your way back to the lobby where Jared waited, still sitting and reading the pamphlets. He looks up as he notices you approaching and smiles as he stands up. “How’d it go?” He asks you.

You hold up the envelope with a smile. “It was great, got to see the baby, doctor said that they’re healthy and everything looks good thankfully. Just have to focus on not stressing myself out so much.” You tell him as you both make your way out of the building and into the parking lot.

“That’s great to hear. I’m sure Stacy already told you but she has a surprise in stock for you but she’s wondering if you have anything nice to wear.” He asks you as you approach the car.

Opening the car door you think for a minute before you nodded. “Yeah, I should.” You tell him. You’re sure you can find something. You took everything with you when you left Simon’s place, all your things are still in boxes save for the necessities that you need, but you’re sure you can find something.

On the drive back you spent the entire car ride back home staring and looking at the ultrasound picture, the little blob that you still couldn’t grasp was your baby, just still needed some more months to grow before you can meet them and that made you anxious. You don’t think you could wait that long.

“What’re you hoping for?” Jared asks you, steering the wheel as he switches to the next lane, glancing at the photos in your hand.

You think about it for a moment, it hasn’t crossed your mind surprisingly. Either one would be great, there was a moment where you dreamt of having a baby girl with Simon. You can’t lie, the sight of Simon being a girl dad made you all giddy and warm. Then thinking about a little boy, one that looked like a copy and paste of Simon would be so cute. You smile as the possibilities ran through your head, of course you’re just being delusional, you wouldn’t be able to see that happen ever. Just a thought in the back of your mind.

“Honestly either would be great. I don’t mind what I have, as long as the baby is healthy that’s enough for me.” You say tucking the photos into your purse, holding it close to you.

Jared smiled and nodded. “Sounds great, you’ll make a great mother. I’m sure of it.” He says to you as you smile, the reassurance from Jared was something you didn’t know you needed but greatly appreciated.

“Thanks.” You say to him, before you know it you’ve finally made it back home.

Once you arrived home you got out the car and walked into the house. Right away Stacy approached you with a smile.

“How’d it go?” She asks you as she gets up from the soft couch and walking over towards you and Jared.

You pull out the envelope and pull out the multiple pictures and hand them out for her. Upon seeing them she awe’s as she examined the little bean like fetus. “Little baby.” She coos before looking at you. “How far along are you?” She asks you.

“Eight weeks. I’ll be able to see the baby’s gender by fourteen weeks.” You tell her as she hands back the photos to you. Placing them in you bag you can see Stacy smile as she walks towards the island counter of in the kitchen. “Oh, what was that surprise you had in store?” You ask her.

She props herself up on the counter with her elbows and looks at the time. “We decided to treat you to dinner tonight. We have a reservation set for six tonight. You feeling up for it?” She asks you.

You take a moment to think and nod your head a bit excited to hear you’ll be eating at a restaurant feeling your hormones go crazed at the thought of food. “Yeah, I’ll get ready now.” You tell her with a wide smile. You haven’t eaten out at a restaurant in a long time. Last time you went was with Simon for the last anniversary together.

Making your way to your ‘room’ you take out a box with your fancier clothes. Opening the box you pull out multiple tops, bottoms, and dresses. Finally choosing one you like you slip the dress on and admire yourself in the mirror. You bump is bulging out a bit, you take the time to admire it.

You took the time to shower, do your make up and get dressed right on time. Stacy looked at your outfit as you did a 360 showing off your outfit. “You’re not even half way into pregnancy and already look like a milf.” Stacy jokes, you laugh as you grab your purse.

“Don’t tell me lies Stace.” You tell her as she shrugs her shoulder.

“I only tell the truth.” She says as you both walk out the door and towards the already running car where Jared sat in waiting for you two.

“Fuckin’ hell.”

A click from the lock sounds from the front door as it swings open. Simon’s bulking frame walks through the door as he scans the house. It’s dark and eerily silent.

When Simon came back, he felt like shit. His heart dreaded coming home to see your answer. He hoped you stayed, at least long enough till he came back, he planned to move out the house and leave it for you if you decided to keep the baby. It would give him a peace of mind to know where you were and know that you and the kid were safe, and you could use the extra room and space for the baby. But, even if you got rid of it, he doesn’t know if your relationship could ever be the same.

However your answer was first made clear when your car not in the drive way. His heart dropped but he took a deep breath, ‘Maybe she’s at the store.’ He thought. He hadn’t texted you either to let him know he was coming home today, he couldn’t bring himself too.

You’re not here. It’s something Simon suspected but he still feels dread overcome him as he steps into the house and notices the little things around the house that belonged to you were gone. Your shoes were gone, your car keys, the blanket you left on the couch is gone. He walks into your shared bedroom, which is now his bedroom, opening the door and he’s stunned with how much of an eye sore it is. His room is so plain now, like how it looked before you moved in with him.

He remembers how much you wanted to decorate the place, especially the bedroom, you hated how lifeless the whole house looked. It didn’t take much to convince him to let you decorate saying , “Go crazy.” And you did. Literally. You decorated adding a touch of you but keeping it to an extent to not overwhelm Simon. You hung up a few decorations and posters in the bed room of bands you and Simon both loved. A few shelves displaying your books and trinkets. Your touch added to his home making it more like home for him. Like you were his home. He liked, loved it if he dare say, he worried you would over do the place but it look perfect. Like you.

But now as he looked around the house, he sees the walls are bare and plain. He feels plain now, empty. Sad. He looks through your closet and drawers only to find them completely bare and empty.

He walks into the living room notices your shoes are gonna as well from the rack, and the little table beside the front door, he noticed the white folded paper on the little ceramic plate that held their keys, walking over he pick up the paper seeing his name written on it in your hand writing, unfolding it reveals page with your writing inked into the material.

‘I know we made a promise but this is something that takes two to do, accidents happen and I know you never wanted children and you knew it was still on the table for me, I’m thankful that you gave me a choice, even if it wasn’t easy. I don’t want to drag you into something you never wanted but it still hurts that I have to chose between you and this baby. I figured it was best for the both of us if I left, you can keep your home and I can keep my baby. I hope you stay safe out there Simon and please take care of yourself. I still and always will love you and I’m sorry.’ Simon checked the back of the paper for anything else but it was empty. You didn’t say where or what you were going to do and it scared Simon. Were you safe, do you have a place to stay, do you have people to help?

He knew you weren’t really in any contact with your family, your only friends were Johnny, Gaz, and Price. His ‘friends’ were yours. For the most part Simon knew you didn’t have anyone to help you or look after you and the baby. “Fuck!”

Taglist <3

@wise-owl @sandyseagullsip @mileyraes @nicolebarnes @nikkyevansdochen22 @mattmurdock-wife24 @demonking-69 @mooievis @lunamoonbby @cherrycosmos392 @eevee-of-eternity @makimamybelovedwife @venavanup @amberpanda99 @simplyymee98 @callmeluno @stormy-stardust @ssc7514 @badbitchthings @moldypeaching @asteria33 @going-through-shit @blarba-girl @leonsgirlie @andoraamore @nobodycanknoww @thegreyjoyed @natashamea18 @kylies-love-letter @blackhawkfanatic @leehoonii-i @xenop0p @sh1ga-to3s

[hopelesswrites]

Music Boyfriend part 1

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie is an anonymous frontman of Corroded Coffin and meets his long-time pen-crush while on the run from the law.

Notes: This is HEAVILY inspired by movie Dinner in America, I was obsessed with the dynamic and felt it fit Eddie and Reader so well. general plot similarities but not a complete retelling of the movie.

Eddies POV

Sweat dripped down the nape of Eddie Munsons neck, chest raising and falling at a rapid rate, his hooded reflection an image of fierce rage as he attempted to calm down his heart and mind after the show. It was the biggest crowd they had played for. At least 100 sweaty bodies mashed together screaming his lyrics. Eddie was in a euphoric state the whole set, Corroded Coffin was finally making it in the scene, people were actually taking them seriously.

“Great show tonight dude” Gareth the bands drummer spoke as he walked past smacking his palm against the skin of Eddies exposed back.

“Owners talking about getting us back next weekend”

Eddies heartbeat was still pounding in his ears when he roughly ripped off the black ski mask from his head, damp curls sprawling out from their confinement.

Shouting could be heard from outside before the door to the small green room slammed open. “They’re looking for you man” Jeff ran in. Eddie could hear the police outside the door, their voices getting closer.

“Quick get out of here and lay low, whatever you did this time they’ll forget in a few days”

Eddie cursed before haphazardly putting his mask back on and shrugging his leather jacket on his shoulders before entering the cold night air.

The cops were looking for Eddie, and with the mask on he was no longer Eddie, he was Vandal, Van for short, but he made a run for it just to be safe.

Eddie knew back at the bar his band will be getting interrogated right now. But their story was always the same “we don’t know no Eddie; the lead singers name is Van”

He liked to keep his real identity a secret on stage. It was easier due to all the trouble he gets up to during the day and he just preferred the anonymity of it, he could be anyone once that hood came on.

Down the street now Eddie slowed to a brisk walk, pulling out his pack of cigarettes and lighting one, taking a long drag once he finally got a breath. He smiled at the irony of that, thinking of ways he could incorporate that into a lyric, connect it back to the bands rebellious non conformity message.

After a few more minutes of walking Eddie made it to the nearest service station, pulling his hood off and stuffing it in his jacket pocket before entering. He beelined straight to the confectionary section ripping off a chocolate bar and stomping down the aisle for a packet of chips. At the counter he watched the bored clerk perk up at the sight of him, adjusting her shirt to show off more cleavage.

“What can I do for you” she asked in the most flirtatious voice she could

“Uh, cheapest bottle of bourbon please” Eddie answered giving the girl a wink before she turned around to grab the bottle.

“What time do you get off?” Eddie leaned his elbows on the counter so his eyes were in line with her chest, noticing the way she pushed her chest out more and stood with her hand on her hip.

“I’m here all night, but it’s pretty dead, I can lock the door” She replied seductively. Eddie considered his options. Try to go home to his uncle who likely already received a visit from the cops, or hole up here with a pretty lady until the authorities cool off for the night.

The answer was obvious.

-

Eddie was rudely awoken by the zip of his leather jacket hitting him in his eye socket. Groaning he stretched in the plastic chair he had curled up on, flinching when he pinched a nerve in his back. Uncle Waynes couch would have been a better option.

“You have to leave now my supervisors going to be here” A voice spoke above him.

Eddie squinted open one eye to see a dishevelled version of the girl he met last night. On the floor to his right was an empty bottle of that bourbon and a plastic cup with the remnants of his last few cigarettes.

“Get me another packet of Marlboros would ya” Eddie resumed his stretch, rubbing the eye that he could already feel a small bruise forming around.

He heard movement and a small box hit him in the chest.

“Out! Now!”

Eddie scrambled to his feet shrugging on his jacket realising he still had no shirt underneath.

“Can I pinch a shirt?” Eddie asked the girl frantically cleaning up the back room they spent the night in.

“They’re next to the drink fridge, hurry” she answered, uninterested in Eddies company by now.

Eddie walked out the back entrance of the service station clad in a shirt saying, “Warning, Choking Hazard” with an arrow pointed downward, he chuckled to himself, pleased with his selection before lighting up another cigarette and making his way in town. He was starving and could use a greasy cheeseburger to soak up some of the alcohol still swirling through his system.

If he was lucky, the police had forgotten about Mr Wheelers stolen car and Mrs Norris’s once perfectly manicured lawn (he didn’t see the pot hole, he was trying not to pop Mr Wheelers tyre obviously).

Down the main strip of Hawkins Eddie kept his head down trying not to draw any attention. He was on 80% of these peoples hit list, been done dirty by Eddie one way or another. This was why he was so eager to blow up with the band and get the hell out of this shit hole. He approached the record store, interested in this week’s new releases. Him and the band had been trying to get Corroded Coffins album in store for months. Keith the asshole kept saying they weren’t selling amateur garage band shit, so Eddie deeply despised the place.

Like a magnet Eddie found his way to the metal section, browsing the albums he already knew and loved when one cover up the back caught his eye. It was Corroded Coffin, he had hand drawn that cover himself, he recognised the charcoal smudge scanned onto the left edge of every album they printed. It cost him a fortune, only two existed in vinyl format and 50 cassettes, all the copies they hand out at shows now are hand scratched mixtape style covers. This was one of those 50 official cassettes.

“Its limited edition, hence, the markup” A soft voice spoke from behind Eddie. He turned his head and scowled at the girl stood behind him. She was twiddling with a sticker that read ‘SALE’ a crooked name badge on a too big shirt with ‘Hawkins Records’ printed on the opposite side.

“Yeah, I know its limited edition, its one of 50” Eddie spat back protectively. Who was this girl telling him about his own band?

“Its one of my own copies. I bought two because I’m such a fan and wanted a backup but Keiths been pushing back their request to sell in the store, so I sacrificed my spare to put out, they deserve to be in stores, have you heard of them?” The girl rambled, seemingly forgetting her own surroundings once she had started talking.

“Of course, I’ve heard of them” Eddie grumbled putting the album back. “Better question is how have you heard of them”

Eddie turned fully now to look at the girl. She was nothing like the people who come to his shows, she radiated too much of a cautious, anxious energy. She looked uncomfortable in her own skin and ashamed of her own actions, but Eddie was no psychoanalyst, he couldn’t make those kinds of conclusions. She looked up at him but a little to the left, never making eye contact and she had a twitch in her leg that looked a little like Gareth tapping a kick drum.

“My friend Jack showed me their album, he works here Monday to Thursday, he’s really into metal”

Eddie looked her up and down as he tried to work this girl out, she was fucking weird, and that was saying something coming from him, the towns resident freak.

“Did you know the bands lead vocalist Vandal wears a mask?” Her leg began to twitch more as she continued to talk about Eddie, to Eddie.

“He stays anonymous when he performs, I find it so hot no one knows who he really is” Her twitching turned into a small bounce and Eddie stepped back away from her.

“Oi! Nutcase, stop harassing the customers, get back to work!” Keith yelled from the front of the store, shutting down this girl’s excitement. This didn’t sit well with Eddie at all.

“Does he always talk to you like that?”

The girl looked down at her shoes nervously. “Yeah, he does”

Eddie grunted, “He’s an asshole, you know that?” The girl only nodded back.

Her submission to the asshole up the front only enraged Eddie more. “Hey! Keith!” He shouted across the store, stomping up to the counter.

“Find someone else to pick on” He growled before planting one hard punch to Keith’s face, definitely breaking his nose. Other customers in the store looked up, curious about the commotion.

“And treat your staff better”

Keith groaned in pain, “She’s fucking useless man, what the fuck”

Something in Eddie felt protective over this girl, and he wasn’t sure why. She was a fan obviously and a part of him felt indebted to her for her devotion to his art, whether she knew it or not.

“Come on” Eddie grunted, pulling the strange girl by her arm and out of the store. He knew it wouldn’t be too long before Keith calls the police and they’re hot on his trail again.

“Where are we going?” She asked still being dragged by Eddie.

“To your place”

Surprisingly it didn’t take any convincing at all for this girl to lead Eddie in the direction of her house, taking backstreets to avoid attention. Eddie added this to her list of traits that made her a freak, who the hell takes a guy like Eddie home after that?

“Hey, stop” Eddie interrupts once they were far enough away, he thought they’d be safe from authorities. “Fuck this shit” he said ripping off the name badge from her uniform. “You don’t need that shithole” The girl looked at Eddie now, analysing him.

“Am I fired?”

The question baffled him, how does he answer that. Did he just get her fired?

“Like I said, you don’t need that shithole” He punctuated, motioning for her to continue walking, he was still fucking starving.

-

She led him up to a plain white house, perfect coverup assuming Keith doesn’t talk. Inside, it was as plain at the exterior, perfect picture of boring suburbia. Eddie couldn’t help comparing it to somewhere they’d send him to torture him.

“My Dads on a trip and my Moms working a late shift, no one will find you here” The girl said, practically reading Eddies mind.

She walked him through and into the kitchen offering him a glass of water, which Eddie rejected as he pushed her out of the way to scan her fridge.

“Where’s the beer?”

The strange girl shrugged, “Dad doesn’t like beer”

“Is there any booze in this house?” He asked, already getting irritated.

“Well, dads got a special bottle of whiskey he saves for Christmas each year in his study, he says its vintage”

“Perfect” Eddie answered, “Go get it”

He continued to rummage through the fridge, pulling out bread, turkey meat and cranberry jelly. The girl stayed put, not answering Eddie. “Is there a problem?”

“Its Dads special Whiskey, he only drinks it on Christmas”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Whatever”

Once his sandwich was made Eddie began to look around the house, looking for anything valuable he could snatch on his way out tomorrow. “What’s your deal then?” Eddie called from a gallery wall near the front entrance, viewing a series of boring family photos, this family didn’t even go on vacation, every photo looked like a Macys photoshoot.

“What do you mean?” She asked sneaking up next to Eddie, causing him to jump and hold his chest.

“Fucking creepy, don’t do that” He hissed before composing himself, “I mean, what do you do besides work at the record store, did you go to college? Actually, how old are you?”

“I’m 20, I did one year at college, but mom thought I’d be better working and getting some life experience and going back later when I gained a bit more confidence”

Eddie noted the way she spoke to the wall rather than to Eddie, so he turned to face her directly, encouraging her to do the same.

“You think you’re getting life experience getting yelled at by Keith?”

“Not really”

Eddie crossed his arms, “what do you want to be doing then?”

The girl took a moment to consider her next words, biting her lip in thought. “Follow me” She led him up a flight of stairs and into a bedroom with the most contradicting aesthetic Eddie had ever seen. Her bed was cutely decorated with girly blankets, a pile of stuffed animals in the corner. Cascading over the bed was a frilly canopy covered in fairly lights. To the opposite wall was a white traditional vanity with a pretty jewellery box decorated with glittery stickers, and various lip glosses and juvenile makeup products. The walls however were covered in aggressive Metal band posters. Eddie spotted a concert advertisement poster they had put up around town for one of Corroded Coffins gigs. She had a stack of cassettes beside her bed that Eddie imagined didn’t contain a single Madonna album.

“I want to start a band” She spoke quickly, rummaging through a cardboard box of letters, papers and various craft equipment.

“I don’t have anyone to join the band, but I’ve been writing songs” She pulls out one envelope generously decorated in stickers. “I sometimes send the love songs to Vandal from Corroded Coffin” she explains turning around to show Eddie the letter she had, addressed to his uncles PO box.

Eddies stomach dropped, face void of any blood as he stared at the familiar envelope connecting the dots between this girl and the girl he’d been fantasizing about for over a year now.

This was fucking bad.

[leandra-kinard]

So, I have thoughts about this. Because this is a concept that you can/have to look at from multiple angles.

From Tommy's angle, for example, you can understand it, considering some of the (more or less vaguely implied and some confirmed) history of the character. It's pretty clear he was hurt before. It's also clear (canonically) he has hurt someone before because he didn't know who he was and what he wanted. Mix that together, and you get deep-rooted insecurities and fears that make him project them onto Buck. It's not correct, it's not great, but it's understandable as a trauma/struggle response.

Now, if we stay in the text, there should be Buck's angle too. And this is where it gets a bit tricky, because Buck often truly does not know what he wants. He is impulsive and impressionable (so ADHD of him), and, while probably deep down having the right idea, often follows the lead of others.

He understood Josh's speech, realized the depth of his feelings for Tommy, and then over-compensated by asking Tommy to move in so soon (and into a much too small loft for two grown men, one of which has a Muay Thai setup and a garage at his own place, come on Buck!).

And now he heard Tommy's position, and I think it would track for him to at least partially doubt himself and his own intentions. While still feeling that yearning for Tommy, the depth of his affection towards him, he would also doubt himself and wonder if maybe Tommy is right and he has to figure himself out some more, has to kick off his training wheels and fit some kind of unwritten standard of experience in gay sex and gay dating.

Narratively, outside of the character's inner workings, however, this all REQUIRES a resolution. It REQUIRES Buck to realize that no, he does NOT need to fuck 10 more men and go on casual dates to know where his heart is leading him. And it REQUIRES Tommy to realize he's been punishing himself for mistakes of the past, and been reaffirming old trauma that everybody leaves him and he's not worthy of other people's love and faithfulness.

With how the episode ended, if we hadn't gotten all of those interviews and Lou now filming SWAT again and all that, we could still have hoped for that resolution. But this seems to be a final decision, no resolution planned in the foreseeable future. As so often, with so many other abandoned plotlines.

911 doesn't care about coherent writing and consistent stories, apparently.

Anyway, since this conflict is interesting and - despite what some of you have expressed - not OOC in my opinion, I'm probably gonna use it to write a fix-it. I can do better than Tim, who, I hope, steps on a lego at least once a week, barefoot, from now on.

The reason I don't like "I'm not your last, I'm your first" is because it perpetuates this very common idea that you have to have a ton of experience in order to know what you want. I'm not judging the people to whom this sexual ethic applies, I'm just tired of being told it's the only correct way to experience relationships and sex. It alienates the people who have thriving, lasting relationships with the first person they date or the first person they have sex with. Notwithstanding that Tommy isn't Buck's first, just his first man, and I don't really see why that makes a difference.

[bazingabitch2000]

Tori Spring and Michael Holden head canons:

Michael and Tori are both autistic, though they express it differently. Michael's traits appear more outwardly visible, while Tori’s are subtler, perhaps because Solitaire is narrated from her perspective. We see her tendencies through her internal thoughts, actions, and reflections, all filtered through her own lens. I also think Michael may have ADHD as well.

Michael and Tori are in a queerplatonic relationship. It is NOT a romantic or sexual relationship. Their kiss at the book's end feels out of place; their connection doesn’t need that romantic signal. Queerplatonic relationships like theirs are as valid and significant as romantic ones. Michael is Tori's person, and Tori is Michael's person. I think what they have is beautiful, and it shouldn't be meddled with.

Michael is one of the only people who is able to make Tori laugh - and I mean REALLY laugh. She doesn't hide her face so much when she laughs around him. Sometimes, she laughs in spite of him. She can't help but admit that he cracks her up. She secretly loves that. Michael also secretly loves that. Sometimes they'll spend hours laughing until their faces and tummies hurt, and one of them either decides to finally go home, or they both just fall asleep together.

Tori just borrows Michael's sweaters whenever. She gets looks from her mum, Charlie, and the others, and she knows what they think. She knows they think that her and Michael are together. She doesn't bother to correct them because it's too exhausting, and they'll never get it.

Tori is cold - always. No matter what time of year, or how many layers she's wearing, she is always cold and always complains about how cold it is. Michael is the opposite of this, and is always lovely and warm. He doesn't even have to wear loads of layers. He's always pretty warm. Michael teases Tori for the fact that she's always freezing cold.

Michael makes Tori watch films she's never watched, and once she does, she reluctantly admits that they're actually great films.

Once Tori watches a new film that Michael has recommended, she makes a playlist based on the film, or a favourite character of Michael's from that film.

Tori finds people who reject pop music as “too mainstream” insufferable. She can rant about it for so long that the room falls silent.

Michael is never surprised when he sees that Tori is online at like 2 am. He teases her about it, and begs her to try and go to sleep at a respectable hour, but she never gives in.

Tori refuses to speak with anyone at breakfast if she can avoid it. She makes a point of making sure she can eat breakfast alone in the kitchen or eat it in her room. Either way, her headphones are on as she listens to Coldplay or Radio Head. If someone interrupts her, she glares and reluctantly removes her headphones.

Sometimes, Tori dissociates while she's around her friends. She finds herself questioning whether everything going on around her is real. Whether it's actually happening. Her friends don't seem to notice.

Tori's closet is full of hoodies, while Michael has a growing collection of sweaters.

Tori drinks everything with a straw.

Michael likes to give Tori small doodles, drawings, and notes. Tori keeps all of them and looks at them every once in a while when she can't sleep.

Tori absolutely refuses to ever use the overhead light. She will avoid using it at ALL costs.

Tori gets very bad migraines a lot. They even make her lightheaded and on the brink of fainting. She shrugs it off or plays it off that she's fine around others, but Michael can usually tell. Michael brings paracetamol or ibuprofen always, just in case. He also reminds Tori to drink water.

Tori lives off buttered noodles/pasta, mac n' cheese, or nuggets and chips a lot of the time. She can't cook to save her life.

Sometimes Tori finds herself watching game shows like Tipping Point and The Chase. She genuinely enjoys watching them and tries to play along.

Tori refuses to buy a new phone until her current one is on it's last legs. She just can't comprehend why and how people will buy a new phone once a new model is out.

When she was younger, she would get in trouble for cutting her hair on her own with a scissors.

Tori almost always has a blanket with her in her house. She has plenty of blankets in her room. When she's in the living room, you can bet she has a blanket.

In school, Tori was either the one telling everyone to “shut up” or sitting silently by herself. She was never part of the noise.

Michael would feel bad if any of his teddies were left out, so he would sleep with all of them, or have some sort of rota/routine and sleep with a different one each night.

[crowthis]

PFC Eugene B. Sledge

Co. K, 3rd Bn., 5th Marines

First Marine Div.

c/o FPO San Francisco Calif.

Dec. 7, 1944

Dear Pop,

I received the packages of nuts & laundry powder & brushes. They really make my washing a lot easier. The Hersheys, cheese crackers, more cookies, cocoa, and Georgia Cottage earth arrived. The latter I sprinkled around my bunk & I feel like I'm once again on family ground. I really I certainly got a kick out of the crow foot & feathers & attached cards.

I read "Song to Remember" in a movie magazine this morning. It was the gist of the movie of the life of Fred Chopin. It was very interesting & I enjoyed it. Every one in my tent gets a lot of pleasure from the magazines you & Mummie have sent. I lay in my bunk by the hour & read. You & Mummie can rest assured that I've enjoyed your packages equally as much as you did sending them. I certainly appreciate it and all the love they represent.

If you can't find me some sort of 98[cent] watch & if my wrist watch is repaired please send the latter to me as I do need some sort of watch. Be sure & insure it. Do you remember the small pipe you had with the metal filter & shaped [picture of pipe]. I liked it for its strait, screw on stem, small squatty bowl & metal filter. I thought if you could find it I'd like it if you don't use it. The pipe I have [picture of pipe] is from Sid & pretty nice but I prefer a metal filter & don't like a tall bowl. I guess I'm lowly for asking for anything after all the wonderful packages. I hope you don't think I'm greedy. Tell Mom all the contents of the packages have been fresh and good & all the packages arrived in fine shape. All the boys say I'm really blessed with devoted parents. I inform them thats very very true. I got a nice package from Uncle Woolsey & I wrote him last nite.

Well Pop I have run out of news. As I look over at my bunk with a copy of Field & Stream & a box of cookies on it I feel the need to remove my shoes & relax. This rest snows me but I guess we really earned it. My love to you & Mummie.

Devotedly, Gene

(over)

P.S. Give Floyd my regards & the same to the Wares. Tell them I hope I'm back home hunting with you in the big field next Dec. 7. I got a nice letter from Ed yesterday & I wrote last nite. I hope the rest of the little ducks get along O.K.

Love, Gene

Two packages just arrived. One from Mom & one from Mrs. Butler. Some cheese crackers & a flashlight and some lifesavers were in the boxes. Pop please cease sending baby canned food. It's too rich for me & besides the mortar section takes great glee in "Say Sledgehammer did you get any baby food today?" I can take teasing but thats too much. Be careful how you tell Mummie because I don't want to hurt her & besides everything else is swell. I wrote you about it for I know you'll understand. Now don't let Mummie misunderstand & get her feelings hurt. Tell her its too rich for me, it really is. Everything else is just what I like.

Love, Gene

[muzzlemouths]

Apologies if this has been asked already, but is there any chance we might get to see what those conversations between sun and moon were like? I just started reading (Don't) Fear the Reaper and now that I know they talk when Sun is quiet, I can't help but wonder what's being said.

When I eventually get around to writing the follow-up fic (which will explore the story from Sun's pov) you'll get to see each and every conversation they had!

Since I'm not sure when that will be (and I have a rough version of what it might look like already written up in my notes) I'll go ahead and drop it here for you to chew on in the meantime :3

This conversation occurs in their personal cabin when y/n first finds out about Moon's existence. I've left the original lines in for context, but they'll be indented so you know what is and isn't internal.

“We?” You watch with growing curiosity as he freezes in place and winces, like he’s just been caught in a lie.

“Sun—”

“I know, I know.”

“Fix it.”

There it is, again. That distant expression like his mind is somewhere else entirely. You aren’t sure if robots are capable of internal monologue, but if they are, his must be pretty intense for the absolutely guilty expression he wears before smothering it with another mocked up smile.  “Me and…Moon,” he answers, voice pitifully small. 

“What are you doing?”

“It’s better to be honest, isn’t it? They’re going to find out eventually.”

“No. No. You’re going to say something you shouldn’t.”

“I can handle myself in a conversation just fine, thank you very much. I have so fa—”

“You don’t know when to shut up.”

His smile falters, eyes panicked like a child being scolded.

Moon. You recognize the name from the conversation with Oscar earlier, how scared he had looked from the mere mention of it. You aren’t entirely sure how to navigate this situation, but if this Moon has everyone up in arms, there must be a good reason for it, right? “Is he…dangerous?” 

“....Well? Am I?”

“Oh, now you want me to talk?”

“Just thought they should know all the grisly details, since you seem keen on being truthful.”

Sun hesitates to answer. He bides his time by tending to your ankle, instead. Carefully drawing your shoe away like a reverse cinderella, then gently turning your ankle in all directions to get a feel for the damage. 

“You’re not being fair.”

“Go on, tell them.”

“I don’t think that’s a good ide—”

“Tell them how I butchered her. How I didn’t stop until her pulse flickered under my hand.”

“Moon—”

“Tell them how much I regret letting go.”

“I—”

“Tell them how often we think about her blood caking our palms. How relieving it felt to finally—”

“It doesn’t feel broken,” he tells you. 

“Don’t ignore me.”

“I think you might have just twisted it. Should be in tip-top shape by morning!” He faces you with that telltale smile once more, only for it to droop significantly when you don’t immediately mirror his relief. It’s not the answer you’re waiting for. 

“Hypocrite.” Moon snarls. “Cornered yourself. Now you’re the animal stuck in a trap.”

“Little rabbit…” he sighs. “You are very, very lucky, you know. This could have been much worse.”

Pebbles climb in your throat, brought on by his words. Each bigger than the last and taking up space where you need to breathe. They rattle with every inhale, collecting in great heaps the longer he fits you with that emotionless stare. You don’t think he’s referring to your ankle, anymore.

“Cruel. Warning a rabbit with one foot already in a trap.”

“They’re smarter than you think.”

“It’s too late to save them.”

“...I know.”

“Then why bother?”

A twig snaps just outside the door, relieving you of his piercing gaze as his neck wrenches to follow it. Just a squirrel.  “Sun, I—” “Anyone can be dangerous,” he whispers, eyes still zeroed in on the animal.

“Caaareful.”

“I told you, it’s better to be honest," Sun's optics twitch ever briefly. "They ought to know it isn’t you they should fear.”

[randomfoggytiger]

David Duchovny's "Hail Mary" Nose (and Beard): an Aesthetic Study

Been tumbling down some fashion rabbit holes, and came across the Golden Ratio: simply put, the face is divided lengthwise (horizontally) into thirds (the Thirds Ratio) and crosswise (vertically) into fifths. We're not going to get caught in the weeds with the latter category today, but I was curious to figure out David Duchovny's very singular features.

The Thirds Ratio is key to understanding the universally recognized standard of beauty. What is "pleasing", aesthetically, is proportionate uniformity. Because the eye (and human brain) works to find and replicate patterns, more uniformity means less information for the eye to bounce around and take in. The brain rewards less work with pleasure-- hence, why we are consciously or unconsciously "pleased" with symmetrical features. In short, this is why humanity pretty much agrees on what is most "desirable." Ideally, each third is identically proportioned, regardless of individual striking characteristics (large or narrow eyes; small or large lips; wide or narrow nose; etc.)

In the picture below, I very helpfully divided DD's face into horizontal thirds: the upper third, the middle third, and the lower third.

As we can see, his face-- like most faces on the planet-- is not cut up into idealized thirds: his upper third (hairline to eyebrow) is the largest section, while his middle third (eyebrow to nose tip) and lower third (nose tip to chin-- which includes double chins and beards) are smaller, but equal, thirds.

Now: David is obviously a handsome man... but why? He has a big forehead (large upper third), a big nose, small eyes, and a small chin. How do they work together to harmoniously frame his face?

Simply, simply put: the face draws the eye up or down depending on the length and width of its features. It's all about balancing each feature to draw the eye exactly where a person wants it to rest.

For David, his longest and widest part is his forehead: hence, our eyes are invited to rest there naturally.

To minimize a large (and wide) forehead, bangs are traditionally recommended-- side-swept particularly-- that cut off the corners of the rectangle. (Hence, why DD's most iconic roles-- and hairstyles-- usually feature bangs... unless he razes his hair short.)

Too short, however, will only highlight how much forehead there is:

Now, you might be saying: "But David looks great in pretty much any haircut (unless super flat or super short.) If he has a large forehead, why doesn't he 'need' bangs to hide it all the time?"

Because of his face's saving grace:

THE NOSE

No, I'm not kidding.

DD's thirds we already know; but that's not the end-all-be-all. This is where we divert from the Ratio principle: his forehead pulls the eye towards it, of course; but his other distinctive feature-- his nose-- carries a lot of visual weight, and captures our attention secondarily. So, his forehead may draw our gaze naturally UP, but his nose draws our gaze immediately back DOWN. If David had a more tapered or slender nose, our eyes would have nothing to land on except his forehead.

Our eyes, we've established, bounce quite naturally from The Forehead to The Nose. And where from there?

What is the next distinctive feature? The eyebrows. And what do the eyebrows frame? The eyes. Therefore, our eyes come to land quite naturally on his --exactly where you want them to.

Which is why filled in (and darker) eyebrows are important to David's face, as well: they help hold structure and redirect attention. Without them, the eyes have no place to be directed to other than The Nose:

I personally think "no bangs" suits DD better; with them, our glance is drawn first to The Nose, which can then seem out-of-proportion compared to his small eyes and small chin (which is probably why Hank Moody wore sunglasses all the time-- to make his "eyes" appear bigger, thereby rebalancing his middle third.) David has to turn for us to notice his broader, masculine jaw; but even then, we would be focusing on his profile instead of his face.

We come to the truth of why I started this little journey: The Beard.

THE BEARD

Why, oh why, does David look good in a beard?

Again, again, we refer back to his thirds proportions: top 1/3 largest, middle and lower 1/3s equal.

Now. As we've already explored, David's middle third draws our eyes down from his forehead because of The Nose; which means, the upper and middle thirds now have distinctive, eye-catching features. But what about the lower third? His chin isn't particularly long or sharp or pointed; and his lips aren't especially plump or full or wide. In fact, both attributes are rather short and delicate compared to the whole.

So, what adds distinction-- even length-- to his lower 1/3 ratio?

A beard.

By wearing a beard, DD (unintentionally) tricks the eye into recreating a false, perfected balance between his thirds: a long upper third, a false long middle third (because of The eye-catching Nose), and a false lower third (because of the chin-lengthening beard.) Meaning, his thirds are in equal, idealized harmony.

BALANCE IS KEY

But what happens if he mashes strategies together? Does that work out for him?

Well, he can pull it off... but not as effectively.

On the left, we see David sporting a hairstyle that maximizes his concerns: side-parted and up-and-back, which draws more visual attention to his large upper third. He's corrected that on the right with bangs; but now that his upper third isn't the focal point, we're left with The Nose and The full Beard as two (rivaling) features. This, in effect, drags our eyes DOWN and bounces them back and forth between two focus points; which, in effect, makes his face appear wider and heavier around the jowls. Not as flattering as Bearded and Bangless, but not as terrible as Severe Side-Part and Up-Swept.

CONCLUSION

So: what's the takeaway?

David can wear any hairstyle except ones flat to his head or severely swept up and away from his crown. Those maximize the appearance of his forehead.

He can also pull off bangs-- side bangs in particular-- that shave away the edges of his forehead.

But DD doesn't need them, really, because his nose draws our gaze down and rests them in his middle third (where his eyebrows and eyes are.)

If he wanted to draw a more natural, "even" proportion between his top and middle third, darkening or filling in the top line of his brows (and creating an arch for his hooded eyes) would help to hold one's gaze there (e.g. why photos of his face without darker eyebrows look "off.")

And, lastly, The Monotone can maximize his thirds by growing out a beard.

We can see these five principles at play in the picture below: bangs on the right to hide his forehead; beard on the left to equalize his upper, middle, and lower thirds.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

[kanasbinwriting]

Any Mychael hcs?? :)

GENERAL DATING HEADCANONS

Thank you so much for your request ^^!!! I hope you don't mind me writing dating headcanons for Mychael :>

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

- I LOVE HIM SM AHHHHHHH

- He's insecure af, as we know, so it'll take him long to believe that you don't see him as a monster

- But the moment he slowly begins to believe your honey smeared words? Oh, he's going to be absolutely smitten with you

- Do you remember the flower field where he took the MC? This is your date spot now and I won't be persuaded otherwise

- You either stargaze, have a picnic or just look at the clouds as the butterflies surround you two

- You two would make flowercrowns together, idc if you don't know how to make them. He'll gladly try to teach you

- He adores preparing little snacks and drinks for the picnic date with you

- He always hums a happy tune as he makes the snacks

- He'd undeniably enjoy morning strolls with you

- Imagine holding his hand as you two walk around in the woods. He might even hum a little tune as you do

- He was definitely nervous at your first official date

- He read tons of books about romance after he discovered his feelings for you

- He also read the most traumatising and disturbing things he's ever read

- But it's worth it if it meant that you'll be happy

- He loves listening to you talking about your interests

- He doesn't really initiate physical touch at first

- But if physical touch is your love language, he'd start to initiate it more often

- He follows you around everywhere you go when you're at his place

- He gets very flustered when you give him quick surprise kisses or hugs

- But he'll quickly ease into your touch

- He LOVES playing those no WiFi games on your phone

- RIP your phone storage, it'll be greatly missed

- He enjoys getting kisses all over his face and could spent forever in your embrace

- His love language is definitely receiving words of affirmation

- He'd definitely gift you random leaves and tell you that they reminded him of you

- They're really pretty ones though

- I think one of his love languages is also acts of service

- He just adores taking care of you

- He would love to cook with you, in a sense that you're sitting at the dining table and give the food a taste and clean the cutlery he used

- yummy

- If you tell him about your favourite food or snack, he'd always have it or at least have the ingredients ready in case you suddenly crave it

- He's definitely a morning person

- It took him SO long to share his bed with you

- If you two are sharing a bed and cuddling, he would be hesitant to leave your side, but will eventually since he wants to prepare breakfast and tend to his chickens

- He loves seeing you hanging out with his chickens and taking care of them

- They are sort of his family after all

- He'd definitely love to share one of his hobbies with you. May it be knitting or gardening, he'd be more than happy to teach you

- But he'd also enjoy just having you sit next to him as you do your own thing

- I don't think he's someone who would begin to fight over something small

- If it does happen, he would quickly apologize

- He gets pretty coy when he realises that you want to start a silly argument with him that leads to nowhere and doesn't even make sense

- If you two get into a big fight he'd definitely snap quickly, but he's quickly apologising

- He cools down pretty quickly when he gets mad, but he feels very awkward after and isn't very good when it comes to talking it out

- I do think that he gets jealous of others to a certain extent due to his insecurities

- However, I don't think he would act out of order to a certain extent

- Hypnosis can fix many things after all

- If you ever feel down, he'd wrap you up in a burrito blanket, make you tea and just cuddle you

- He doesn't know shit about comforting others, but he's a great listener

- He'd probably try to distract you with whatever comes in mind, wherever it be with food or just cuddling he's at your service

- If he feels down, he just wants to be near you in silence

- If you're mentally ill he'd probably start to bomb you with questions

- Of course, he would back down when you tell him to, but he'd be confused at first

- He's a great listener though, as I mentioned, and would do his best to learn about your issues

- Same thing goes for when you're chronically ill

- If you have a hobby you can practice at his place, he'd be ecstatic to watch you and maybe even join you in your activities

- He almost shed a tear when you made/bought him a cake for his birthday

- And when you gave him gifts? He was so delighted that he couldn't stop smiling like a goof

- He wouldn't have a dramatic reaction when you give him pet names

- I think he'd enjoy most pet names that start with the word "my", for example "My love, my dearest, my dear, etc..."

- When you two cuddle, I think he would enjoy facing you and having your limbs tangled together as you cuddle

- He purrs every time

- He could've sworn that he almost died due to his embarrassment when you told him about his purring habit

[swallowedabug]

[sskk-manifesto]

Bungou Stray Dogs: Dead Apple and how “ability users” (opposite to “normal people”) learning to accept themselves through the acceptance of their own abilities is a queer metaphor of acceptance of own's sexual orientation and gender: an essay by me

[feroluce]

So I went to the wiki page for the henghill Bullet & Brain mission of 2.2 looking for some dialogue I had missed and

a) I found something incredibly tasty that slotted into some other thoughts I'd been having, more on that on another day, and

b) I saw this super fun little trivia at the bottom, which!

I knew Penacony characters like Boothill took a lot of inspirations from old movies, but I didn't realize it was even in his and Dan Heng's relationship, that's so cool!!

It fits them very well, it's such a fun reference. "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid" was an old buddy Western film (from 1969- nice) about a pair of outlaws. Butch Cassidy was the leader of a gang, and described as clever, affable, and talkative. Meanwhile, his closest companion, the Sundance Kid, was known as a man of few words.

Cassidy's original birth name was much more plain, but similar to Boothill, he took on a new moniker when he became an outlaw. "Cassidy" had been the last name of his beloved mentor, who taught him how to shoot and ride. And Sundance Kid was known as he was because Sundance was the name of his hometown, and it was the only place that had ever managed to catch and jail him, back when he'd been younger (also similar to Dan Heng, but ouch).

These two stick together like glue throughout the length of the film- through Cassidy's leadership of the gang being challenged, through a train robbery gone wrong, through being pursued by mercenaries, and even through fleeing to Bolivia and trying to start over together.

I don't want to say too much more, since the mission title is referencing one specific movie that I've never seen. I kinda wanna watch it now, though, just to see the inspiration that went into Boothill and Dan Heng and how they get along. I just think it's really sweet that these two were literally made to be the best of bros, how lovely is that. 💕

[coco-bean-1218]

Thank you for the tag @merriell-allesandro-shelton and @panzershrike-pretz !!!

10 Characters, 10 Fandoms

In no particular order:

1. Charles "Chuck" Grant- Band of Brothers

2. Eugene Sledge- The Pacific

3. Ahkmenrah- Night at The Museum

4. James Herriot- All Creatures Great and Small

5. Matthew Crawley- Downton Abbey

6. Daniel Jackson- Saving Private Ryan

7. Prince Albert- Victoria

8. Prince Kit- Cinderella

9. Tommy Shelby- Peaky Blinders

10. Dallas Winston- The Outsiders

[cozylittleartblog]

∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿ya boi made washi tapes, please consider Purchasing them. at cozylittleartshoppe on etsy. good print, good sticc, i am obsessed