lock productions

soabs  asked:

So first love your tumblr page, secondly I would like some advice, if that's alright to ask. I'm trying to write a story with a character from Oregon and I would like some idea on if they be any phrases words anything really to make it believable

- everyone from Oregon ends their sentences with “praise be to Bigfoot” to show both humility and gratitude
- Oregonians, colloquially known as “Orgies”, make a lot of puns about oregano
- Oregonians (“Orgies”) have a bitter rivalry with Washingtonians. Every seven years, on the appointed day, it is a tradition for residents of each state to gather on opposite sides of the Columbia River and hurl insults and rocks at each other. Since the Columbia River is very wide and throwing something across it is very difficult, these encounters can’t really be considered violent. It would be unrealistic if your character is from Oregon (or Washington) and does not frequently reference this important tradition.
- The Oregon Trail is considered a holy game, and it is always played at funerals to determine who in the family will be the next to die. If the game’s prediction is wrong, Orgies ignore reality and treat the prematurely deceased like living people while shunning those who were expected to die.
- You do not pump your own gas in Oregon - station attendants do it for you. Similarly, you’re not allowed to feed yourself at restaurants - specialized waiters and waitresses come to your table, sit you in their laps, and spoon-feed you.
- Do not mention that Oregon has fewer reported Bigfoot sightings than either California or Washington unless you want to be banned from the state
- In the more liberal parts of the state, you are expected to experiment sexually with a waterfall (if male) or a volcano (if female) at some point before graduating college
- for political complications, the role of black people will be played by white people with locked hair for this production
- A $4.35 cup of coffee in California will cost $400 in Oregon. If you complain, the barista will gently remind you, “No sales tax!” and you’ll end up buying six refills
- Social standing is expressed via the number of bumper stickers on your car.
- The state tree is the Douglas fir - a majestic conifer. In Oregon, a boner is frequently referred to as a “Douglas” or even just “Doug”. If an Orgie suddenly exclaims, “I’ve got to go meet up with Dougie,” it means he has become sexually aroused in an embarrassing way and will seek out the nearest waterfall to ease himself.
- A geoduck is a species of large, edible clam. “Geoduck” is therefore used as slang for both “penis” and “vagina”. The phrase “go Ducks!”, shouted at sportsball competitions, is actually a celebration of sexual liberation.
- Orgies do not use slang like “cool” or “tubular” or “awesome”. Instead, they say “That’s organic!”
- If a white guy tells you about the “spirit quest” he went on, he means he went camping and smoked a lot of weed. I mean a lot. Of. Weed.
- A popular sport is food truck racing.
- If a young person appears single, they are probably in a committed relationship with their bicycle.
- The most popular epithet to be engraved on tombstones is “Gone Squatchin’”

Cis people are definitely the authority on nonbinary lives. We should listen to everything they say because they are totally objective enough to know who we are. Pink and blue must reign supreme in all things. Gendered products are a necessity of life. Cis is bliss. 👪

HAPPY APRIL 1! Pranks all around!

Don’t listen to the cis and don’t take part in their ridiculous habit of gendering of literally everything. And asking them about nonbinary people is like asking my goldfish about fine wine. They have no clue.

Being nonbinary is a priceless gift. You rock, you’re valid, and don’t ever forget it. Keep breaking that binary. ✊🌈


Hello Again, and Welcome to Week 9 of the Analysis Series!

Today we will be Covering the Thief Class, his stats, gear AND passive abilities!

PS: Sorry for being a day Late; I was pretty focused on Programming Yesterday!


Tagged by the wonderful @thearcherballet

Lock screen, home screen, last song I listened to, and a recent selfie.

I tag… um anyone who wants to do this actually? I’m not sure who wants to post a selfie, so I extend this to all my followers! Have fun!


by @mandoreen 

Can you find the hidden messages?

Freedom is apparently bad for business 

That’s the message from the private prison industry which is threatening to sue states if they don’t start locking more people up. {Please REBLOG this!}

The private prison companies, well-known for profiting off of incarceration and crime, is now saying that the state’s they have contracted with aren’t keeping up their end of the bargain. The private prisons rely on a certain number of inmates for free and virtually-free slave labor.

That labor is used for a variety of trades, including making uniforms for popular restaurants like McDonalds and Applebee’s. But if the private prisons don’t have enough inmates locked up then production goes down correlative with the decrease in free labor (i.e. slavery).

It comes as a surprise to many Americans, but slavery was never actually abolished in the United States. That’s not a metaphor, it’s a matter of careful reading of the 13th amendment to the Constitution. That amendment – often lauded for abolishing slavery – actually makes an exception for prisons. Slavery is still completely legal as “punishment for a crime.”

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anonymous asked:

How did the DiceMice team formed? :) Cinderella Phenomenon is really a breathtakingly high-quality, professional and beautiful game.

Art. Codes. Stories. These were the ingredients to make the perfect little VN but an extra ingredient was accidentally added to the concoction — a masochistic drive for perfection.

(Just kidding. ;) )

Back in 2014, Kooriiko was working on Locked Heart. While she was looking for writers to help her, Sitraxis, a friend of hers on deviantArt (dA) , offered to help as a programmer since she was pursuing her IT studies that time. They became the founding members of Dice during Locked Heart’s production. During the early production stages of Cinderella Phenomenon, Sitraxis asked her best friend, Tajina, whom she has also met on dA. Soon enough, we knew that we all shared a passion in being masochistic in our own craft. We’ve also became quite tight-knit. Later, we changed our name to Dicesuki. Now, we’re on a never-ending masochistic journey to make awesome games! We’re glad you have enjoyed Cinderella Phenomenon. It has made our endeavors worthwhile. :)

Skincare Routine

For the past few weeks, I’ve been following a routine derived from the 10-step Korean skincare routine. 

The key to remember is to layer all the products from thinnest to thickest consistencies. I’ve been seeing a huge improvement in my complexion; super excited to see what future results will bring!

Step 1: Cleansing Oil

This is the first step of the “double-cleansing” technique. At first, I was very hesitant to use an oil-based cleanser seeing as my skin type is oily and acne-prone. However, using this in conjunction with a foam cleanser for the next step addresses that issue. I’ve been using the Face Shop Rice Water Bright Cleansing Light Oil to remove all my makeup easily. Works like a charm!

Step 2: Foam Cleanser

Not only does the foam cleanser remove the rest of the makeup, it makes sure to also remove the remaining oil cleanser from your face to prevent breakouts. I’m currently using Kracie Naive Cleansing Foam Peach, and I like to exfoliate and further scrub off dead skin using my Konjac activated charcoal facial sponge. It makes my face feel super clean and smooth afterwards. 

Step 3: Toner

Western toners are also known as astringents, which can be harsh on the skin and dry it out. Asian toners are also called “lotions”, and is of a watery consistency. They are meant to act as primers to balance out the skin’s pH and to help the additional products better absorb and penetrate into the skin.  I really like Hada Labo Shirojyun Albutin Lotion. Albutin has a whitening effect on skin as well!

Step 4: Sheet Mask (optional, night time only)

Once a week, I like to use a sheet mask to give my face additional moisture and to target additional problems. Skin masks are pre-soaked in essence, and there are a large variety of masks out there that I can go into further detail in another post. I don’t have a regular brand of skin mask that I’ve been using since I like to experiment with the varieties of different ones. 

Step 5: Serum

Serums also address specific issues such as wrinkles, dark spots, brightening, etc. It’s like a lotion, with thick consistency. Skinfood Peach Sake Pore Serum is great for my acne-prone skin since it works to minimize excessive sebum and large pores. 

Step 6: Tretinoin Cream 0.025% (night time only)

I’ve also been using a dermatologist-prescribed cream to get rid of annoying hormonal breakouts and to improve skin texture. This is a tricky product to use as the side effects include peeling skin, causing redness and dryness for several weeks. It also makes my skin very sensitive to sun. This is optimally applied on completely dry skin, so I usually wait 30min after my previous step before applying tretinoin. 

Step 7: Moisturizer 

For night time, moisturizer is the final thing that locks in all the products on your skin. I just started using the widely popular Mizon Snail Recovery Gel Cream. Containing 74% of snail secretion filtrate, this product can reduce redness, acne marks, diminish wrinkles, lighten scars, and improve complexion overall. Really excited to see this in action!

Step 8: Sunscreen (day time only)

One of the reasons Asians are known for their incredible skin is definitely due to sunscreen. Japanese sunscreens are highly rated and very effective. My favorite is Hada Labo UV Creamy Gel. With SPF50+ and PA++++, this sunscreen effectively protects against both UVB rays and UVA rays, respectively.

If you have any skincare recommendations, please let me know! I will love to test new products and review them here. :)



From the very beginning of Last Tango in Halifax series 1, episode 1 the beauty and ‘rightness’ of the pairing that is McElliot (McDawson) has captured our hearts and swept us off our feet. It is a tribute to the fabulous talent of both Sarah Lancashire and Nina Sosanya and their portrayal of Caroline & Kate that so many of us worldwide have become their devoted fans, journeying with them loyally through their many ups and downs.

As evidenced by the huge amount of fan mail that Sarah, Nina and Sally Wainwright have received and the emotional outpouring of life stories in those letters, it is obvious that for such a large number of us this is more than just a tv show. For many it has been the first time that there has been a relationship represented in the media that we can truly relate to and that accurately depicts our lives. Kate & Caroline gave lesbian partnerships visibility, validity and recognition in a way that has never been done before.

Therefore, it is with much sadness and dismay, that we have had to witness the death of Kate and, perhaps more importantly, the demise of Kate and Caroline. There is nothing we can do to change what will appear on our screens in the remaining episodes of Last Tango in Halifax. Rightly or wrongly, Sally Wainwright has chosen their path. The deed is done.

However, it wouldn’t be right to let this wonderful couple and all that they represent, simply fade away without their significance being recognised therefore we are proposing a highly visible demonstration of our gratitude for the gift that is Kate & Caroline and our appreciation of the two sublime actresses who portrayed them so skilfully and honestly.

We are co-opting the phenomenon of Lovers’ Locks, a symbol of everlasting love. It says a lot about how we would have preferred the script to have gone as well as a warm embodiment of our feelings for the characters and their relationship as lesbians.

Although we can rant and rave and get angry about this storyline’s unfortunate and premature end (which we are fully entitled to do and can use other options to let them know our thoughts about the matter) we feel that this is a positive and empowering way to let them know the significance of this couple to us. Maybe with enough support it will also encourage other writers and production companies to include more positive lesbian storylines.

The idea is to fasten locks of all shapes and sizes with the names Caroline & Kate on them and perhaps black and rainbow-coloured ribbon to a centrally-located fence area outside Red Production offices at in Salford near Manchester. (You can see the ones we have already done in the top photo). Alternatively, those of us who live overseas will be posting locks to the Red Productions office at:

Red Production Company
Level Two
Manchester M50 2NT

Viewer protests, where a group of fans send a physical manifestation of their feelings have been very successful at garnering attention. The arrival of hundreds and hundreds of locks in the mail, day after day, each one expressing our affection for this wonderful couple would be very hard for RED to ignore.

All we are asking is that Sally Wainwright and Red Productions acknowledge us and our feelings and that, for a lot of us, this was more than just a drama on the telly. It was a reflection of our lives and loves and it made a difference and that our hearts are now a little bit broken.

 [Part One]  [Part Two]

Thank you to everybody who has been loving on this. I didn’t think anyone would like part one when I wrote it and now it’s taken on a life of it’s own and that’s so cool. The next 5SOS preference is going to be kid free just to mix it up, but I will do more kid things. If you want to vote on who I should do a one shot for next [Molly, Emmeline, Penelope, Daphne, March, Miles, Iden, or Connor], please do. I still have lots of ideas for Daph and March together and separately. So let me know what ya want and like and stuff.

                He wanted to take her out on a real date, but seemed every time March tried to ask, his body limp and leaning against the locker by hers, his older sister would stroll over, smelling of the ocean and vanilla, asking if anyone wanted to get kebabs or hang out on the East steps. Unfortunately, Daphne always said ‘yes’. He tried to catch her as she was leaving her last class of the day, heading straight to her after school tutoring, but Daphne was easily lost in a sea of girls all in the same uniform and she moved quickly into the nearby study lounge to meet with her private tutor, hired by her parents and suggested by the school. Since their night of blessing each other’s underage bodies with sweat and rigid breaths, March couldn’t quite shake Daphne out of his head. He was tripping off of his skateboard due to constantly being distracted by thoughts of her, zoning out in class until the teacher’s pointed out his drooling, and even falling asleep in his breakfast Eggo due to staying up all night texting her, gushing about how beautiful she was and earning few words in response.

                On Friday, March managed to catch Daphne before she could cross the street to where her new car, a plum colored hatchback that he had yet to have any kind of ride in. In his mind, he had rehearsed exactly what he was going to say to her. March, who made up his oral presentations on the spot and never even thought through his breakfast until he was making it, had planned a night that he was sure Daphne would like and it hadn’t been easy since she could go with any flow. He was going to offer to take her to Delight since it had been hailed one of the best places to get anything chocolate in Sydney and he knew that Daphne loved anything chocolate and then thought they could walk across the boardwalk to The Garrison since Saturday was when decent local acts played and March always felt most comfortable when good music was playing. Her colossal racoon eyes were blinking up at him, devouring him whole like she might a Ferraro Rocher truffle, and the boy who took on skateboard ramps without a helmet felt himself shake inside. If he was made up of ground salt, the parking lot would have been covered in flavor as every inch of him quivered and his mouth hung open without a clue of how to pronounce words. Suddenly, her name, the one he had been repeating in his head like a top 40 hit, had fled from his memory.

“Are you okay?” Licking her lips, a deep purple stain painted over them that looked as if she had been making out with the lid of a jam jar, Daphne wondered out loud to him, knocking her head to the side as they stood underneath a gloomy sky. He had been shouting her name, jumping in front of moving cars, as he ran over to her car, but now he was standing in front of her silently, looking like a Sim that had been paused.

“Uh yeah.” Her voice was all he needed to hear to pull it together except his courage was gone. He had had it two days ago when Penelope stole Daphne from him and bought her a kebab from a street vendor, he had it all the nights they spent texting, and he even had it when she was sitting in the library, looking frustrated and pulling at her hair as she flipped through a dictionary, but now that he actually had her in front of him, listening, March was blanking. “I was just going to say you should come over tonight. Like my parents will be home, but they’re working on stuff in the basement, my dad’s studio, so they won’t hear you…” That was why they had been able to make out in his bedroom last week, when Luke was in his home studio, he couldn’t hear anything else in the house.

“Are you sure?” Daphne checked, running her manicured fingernails through her hair with an uneasy look morphing over her face. “It didn’t go over so well last time.”

“It’ll be fine. Miles can play lookout for us.” Shrugging, March tried to be assuring while stuffing his hands into the pockets of his school pants that his Grandma had finally hemmed. “Or we could go out…” Through the side of his lips, he managed to mumble. It wasn’t exactly how he wanted to ask her, he didn’t want to sound so casual since Daphne never picked up on hints, but March’s stomach was still in knots.

“No. It’s okay. I can just come over.” Matching him, she shrugged back, her hanging bag brushing against her skirt and bringing his eyes down to her bare legs that ran beneath. “But I couldn’t until later, I have dance stuff. What about, like,” She lifted up her arm and glanced at her wrist where no watch sat, checking the time on nothing. “9?”

“That works.” March nodded, disappointed she wasn’t interested in going on a real date with him, but he supposed he hadn’t asked properly.

“Do you need a ride? I really have to go.”

“Nah, I’m going to go bug Penny, I think…” He wanted a ride, but since Daphne was off to dance he didn’t want to bother her with his wandering hands. In fact, March felt a need to go wallow in self-pity due to losing his cool and not being able to ask Daphne out. He could yank any girl’s kilt in the hall, he could take on railings on unsteady wheels, and even battle his mom in the kitchen about going out on the weekend, but asking Daphne Hood to go for chocolate and a show felt like it might lead him into a pit of death.

“Okay, well I’ll see you about nine.” Behind her back, she reached for the handle of her car door, the keys already curled under her fingers. March waved and began to jog away only to turn around on his toes and rush over.

“Wait.” He chuckled before shifting his blue eyes from left to right, checking for any Hemmings, Hood, or loud mouthed fellow student before pulling Daphne to him by the waist and planting three kisses, one right after the other, along her jaw until he was at her lips and could kiss them through her giggling. The berry gloss she had on was left like a smudge over his own mouth, but March just wiped it away with the sleeve of his school button up. “See you around 9.” He might not have worked up the nerve to ask her out yet, but he couldn’t walk away from any opportunity to have his lips against hers. She was far too kissable even if she always wore the stickiest gloss she could find.

Daphne didn’t think anything about her empty house when she came home from dance, mail from the box at the end of the street in hand. It was Friday and her father had a much busier social life than she did, plus her mother spoke more than anyone she knew and had friends on every street in their neighborhood. It wasn’t completely uncommon for the two of them to go out on a Friday night especially now that Daphne wasn’t a little kid who required supervision anymore.

Tossing her bag and cell phone by her shoes once they were off, Daphne excitedly headed straight to the upstairs shower. It wasn’t officially her bathroom, but she was the only one in her small family who used it. Her mind was reeling over being with March again, even watching him play skateboarding video games or texting felt like a good time to her though she specifically liked that the two of them could try to talk about things that they didn’t understand with one another. Daphne was a girl of few words, but with March, sometimes, she felt secure enough to share her opinions or a part of them. She sometimes thought that was something March appreciated, too, but she did wonder if, maybe, he just liked how her chest felt like a perfect pillow beneath his head. A lot of people, like her father, summed March up as a simple teenage boy who just wanted to drill notches into his bed post and have a kick around. While Daphne knew that raging hormones and sports were vital to the teenager, she also saw beyond that. He was more than bad jokes and a lip ring to her. He was somebody trying to figure themselves out just as she was and it felt a little bit easier to do that with someone instead of navigating her jumbled thoughts alone.

Once she was clean, Daphne took as much time as she could on her hair as thick as molasses, blowing it upside down as Emmeline once told her to do if she wanted to have supermodel hair. It didn’t seem to matter what Daphne did to her brown locks or what products she used, she always wound up with a mane that she thought better suited a horse. She listened to the radio while doing her makeup, sitting right in the sink and pressing her face as close to the mirror as she could. It was a throwback station which she liked since they played a lot of Leonard Cohen which she was pretty sure she was born in tune with. She was rubbing her gloss, a colored called Violet Vamp, over her pout with the pad of her fourth finger when a song she knew all too well began to play. She recognized it before her father’s voice even began, Good Girls. It felt too ironic to hear as she was about to go out and spend time with a boy that her father was only fond of as his own Godson, but he had made clear he didn’t think was that impressive as an actual boyfriend.  Daphne felt suddenly guilty and debated canceling her plans with March, but she wanted to feel his fingers laced and clammy between hers too badly to not finish getting ready.

Once she had on a new dress that she had bought while at Emme’s fashion show, a summery number that ended before her knees began and was just as bright and a color the designer described as ‘Fandango Pink’, she headed straight downstairs, calling goodbye to her guinea pig, with her car keys in hand. She was walking across the lawn to her parked car when her phone began to vibrate in her purse. Rummaging it out from the dark abyss of her bag, Daphne grinned at March’s name and photo as they flashed on her screen, answering it quickly.

“I’m just on my way now.” She told him, leaning against the driver side door of her new little car that she had yet to come up with a name for.

“Yeah, about that, my parents are kind of like lurking around the house.” They never bothered him when he was in his room unless it was to clean it, but March didn’t want to have to be sat down again and hear his father go on and on about how Daphne Hood was off limits. March was starting to believe that his dad was never young and cool because he clearly didn’t understand how impossible it was to stay away from a girl as special as Daphne. “Maybe, we should go out….”

“It’s about to rain.” Looking up at the sky, Daphne stared at the dark clouds that shifted overhead. It was supposed to pour all day, but somehow it had held out. “You could come over here if you like. My parents are out.”

“Where are they?” He asked while sitting up in his bed, still whispering just in case someone was outside of his door, lurking.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I don’t want to come over and have your Dad strangle me if he sees us.” He scoffed. March had fallen asleep in one of his history classes during the week and had a nightmare of Calum catching him with his hands on Daphne and then chasing him out of the house with a Teflon frying pan. March took a moment to think of their options as he wasn’t going to let anyone stop him from spending time with her. “Sometimes Penny sneaks out through the bathroom window. It’s apparently easy to get in and out of. I could wait in there for you, help you in…” Hanging out in Daphne’s car would have been a much easier idea, but it never donned on the boy. He was concentrating on the fastest way to get Daphne into his house and under his blankets for a handsy cuddle session.

“Seriously?” She didn’t sound annoyed at the suggestion, more surprised than anything but she supposed that she probably shouldn’t have. Tales of her rolling up like an armadillo ball to get Emmeline and Penelope in and out of the Clifford’s house echoed throughout the second generation like cold wind. “Alright. I’ll be there in like five.” They lived close enough that she could have walked, but Daphne was too happy with how her hair looked to risk it being rained on.

“See you in five.”

March took only ten seconds to himself after hanging up the phone and slipping it into the pocket of his jeans. He sat on the bed with his feet firmly on the ground, a small carpet beneath that his Grandma had hooked for him when he was just a little kid. He thought about how lucky he was that Daphne was content to spend her time with him, her Friday night, and he thought about how she would probably smell the way she always did, a scent he didn’t know the name of. March felt at his blond hair, knowing it could use a touch up from a day of cruising around the streets on his skateboard with his sister. He left the darkness of his room and headed down the hall, hearing his Dad coming up the stairs.

He didn’t realize just how much could happen in five minutes, but March knew as soon as his blue eyes met Luke’s, that he was about to find out.

“Shouldn’t you be out doing things you hope I never find out about?” Stunned by the sight of his son home on a Friday night at nine, Luke mentioned, squinting as if he was trying to figure out if it was actually March in front of him and not an imposter.

“I’m just tired.” Right away, without having to think, March made up. “I’m going to crash.”

“Are you sick?” Luke raised a single brow and eyed his son sideways, looking him over for any visible signs of fever. He considered yelling down to his wife, but March looked as he always did.

“No. I’m just tired.” March shot his father a look that his sister had taught him. Penny claimed it was an equal blend of ‘Screw off’ and ‘I love you’, but March knew that considering he wasn’t the apple of his father’s eye like Penelope that it probably just came off as rude on his face.

“Alright, well, go to bed.” Still freaked out by March being home, Luke muttered and headed to the washroom. Instantly, March leapt forward and stood in front of the wooden door.

“What are you doing!? You never use this bathroom.” As if his father was doing something completely outrageous, March shouted and spread out his arms to hold both ends of the door frames.

“Yeah…well, Calum’s in the bathroom downstairs and – “

“There’s four bathrooms.” Shaking his head, March explained. “There’s one literally in your bedroom.”

“Well, this is my house so I can use whatever washroom I want to use. That’s the beauty of being the adult.” Internally, Luke cringed. He actually heard the same tone his father used to use with him and his brothers come out of his mouth, but on the outside, he stayed firm. He kept his eyes locked in on March’s and reached forward to shove his son’s arm down in order to let himself into the washroom. He was two beers in and already breaking the seal. “You need to go to bed.” He opened the bathroom door up behind his youngest son and walking by, shooting him a concerned glare.

Before Luke even had the door closed, March had his cell phone out in his hand, racing to his bedroom as he texted Daphne a warning.

Don’t come up. Don’t come up. Wait in your car. YOUR DAD IS HERE. MY DAD IS PEEING.

She used the glass top of the Hemmings patio table as her jumping base since it was higher up than the closed top of their Jacuzzi. While it was somewhat easier to reach the bathroom window’s sill when she balanced on the tips of her toes, Daphne imagined the only reason Penelope favored this window was because she could reach it without trying. She was a good five inches taller than Daphne who was considered a ‘petite’ at five feet. With her fingers curling around the window sill, she sucked in her stomach and tried to lift herself up. Inside her purse, her cell phone was buzzing and tickling at her side, but she ignored the urge to answer it as she was in the middle of something that made her stomach tie up in sailor knots.

Daphne couldn’t believe that March didn’t open the window for her, it would have made sneaking in much easier. The Clifford’s had a flap in their back door for Emmeline’s cat and that was what made it a breeze for Daphne to get in to unlock the door for them, plus they always remembered to leave Emmeline’s bedroom window slightly ajar. She pulled up her weight once her elbows were laying on the sill, grunting loudly like the man who worked at her father’s auto body shop did when he bent down or reached up. Daphne decided to keep her eyes forward since looking down, even though the distance was small, but when she was eye level to the window, she gasped louder than she had ever said anything before.

The sand colored shower curtain was slid completely to one side giving her a full view of her Uncle Luke standing in front of the toilet, aiming into the bowl and relieving himself from the beginning of what he hoped would be a good night of drinking with his best mates in his basement. At the sound of someone else near, Luke’s head snapped to the side and his eyes nearly shot right out of his head through the top of his skull at the sight of Daphne dangling in the window.

“Daph, you’re going to fall!” Through grit teeth, he called out first before removing his hand from himself and pulling up just his boxers and not his jeans. He put one foot into the empty ceramic tub and opened up the window, pushing both locks towards one another and sliding it up. Daphne’s eyes were still squinting shut, the horror of what she had just seen as real as her dream of being on So You Think You Can Dance Australia.

His hands took hold of her arms, pulling her through the window as if she weighed nothing at all, but all Daphne could concentrate on was how he was using the same hand he had just touched his penis. He held her waist loosely until she found steadiness on her feet and then Luke left her standing alone in the tub so he could pull up his jeans.

Luke went to wash his hands, staring at his angry expression in the mirror and then looking over at Daphne as she seemed as if she was trying to hug herself until she became invisible in the open shower. Luke’s mouth kept parting only to shut again, not sure how to go about this situation.

“Daphne,” He finally began, a full thirty seconds since he helped her in through the window, but to Daphne, it felt like an eternity had passed.  “Is my front door broken or are you sneaking in to see my son?” Shutting off the tap, Luke sternly asked her while wiping his hands dry on the small towel hanging by the sink.

“I’m sorry.” Automatically, she whispered.

“March Evan Hemmings!” His lips curled inward, teeth locked down, as he shouted for his son who appeared in the doorway not even two seconds later.

“I texted you! Check your phone.” March scolded the girl he hoped he could make his from the doorway, eyes peeled on her as he waved both hands in front of him. He was too scared to look at his dad, but he got his shoulder as Luke walked by him, lips pursed and eyes sore as he began to stomp away from the two teenagers.

“You two wait here.” Luke didn’t bother turning around to check on them as he headed down the stairs, his brain hurting already as he knew Calum was about to lose his temper. He didn’t even know how his wife would handle things.

“You told me to come in through the window.” As soon as she couldn’t see Luke, Daphne stepped out of the tub and hissed.

“Yeah, but I texted you after that your dad is here.” There was no space between their chests as March looked straight down at her, eyes apologetic and scared for what might happen next.

“My dad is here!?” Daphne’s eyes popped like fireworks, staring up at March as if he was the sky and she was on fire. “As if this could get weirder.” She bit down on her pouting bottom lip, trying not to show any signs of worry. “I saw your Dad’s penis and then he touched me with his penis hand. I can’t believe you weren’t waiting in the bath room like you said.” Daphne’s arms had been crossed under her chest, but she reached forward and pushed a palm right into March’s abs, barely moving him off his stance.

Finding her pout and frustration cute as they were rare to see, March smiled, “Are we having our first fight?” Since the possibility that they might be told to stay even further away from one another loomed downstairs, March took the opportunity to crack his neck to the side and lean in to kiss her. The more forbidden Daphne became, the more kissable she always appeared.

“March, Daphne, you two need to come downstairs.” Mrs. Hemmings sounded like a harpsichord, chiming for the two sixteen year olds to come down stairs to join them. She held the bottom of the stair railing, waiting to lead them to the kitchen where the sound of one cupboard opening and closing loudly sounded. Daphne knew it was her father behind the noise. He always did that when he was frustrated. It would be a whole track on the soundtrack of her life.

Daphne’s eyes averted downward as soon as she saw the back of her father’s head, his hair cut that afternoon. She didn’t want to see the storm clouds that were probably beginning to enter his eyes. March’s pinkie reached out to link with hers, but she held her hands out in front of her while sitting down on the kitchen chair nearest to the wall. March reached the back of the spot beside her, but Luke shook his head and nodded for him to choose the one on the other side of the table.

Luke reached over and put his hand around the edge of the cupboard door that Calum was overworking, stopping him and catching his attention with raised brows. Before beginning, Luke found his wife’s attention. She seemed the most grounded of everyone in the room. The teenagers nervous and Calum mentally deciding what finger sandwiches he wanted served at his and March’s conjoined funerals.

“How did this even happen?” Whipping around, his hands massaging at the side of his forehead, Calum began, sounding completely flabbergasted by what he had just been clued in on.

“We were at a pool party…” She wasn’t going to speak, but Daphne could feel her dad’s eyes burning a hole into her profile and knew better than to ignore his question.

“Of course it was a pool party. Were you in a bikini?” He was asking his daughter, but he had shifted his glare to March, sitting there and fidgeting with his quiff.  

“DAD!” Daphne called in embarrassment,  March’s mum’s hands instantly on her shoulders to act as some sort of soothing calmness in an otherwise tense and uncomfortable situation.

“She was actually in a one piece and shorts.” March had one arm propped up by the elbow on the table, holding out his hand like a waiter with a tray, casually adding in some detail that he thought might ease Calum’s miffed mind.

Luke saw how far from impressed Calum looked by his son’s comment and stepped forward to take control, still holding his arms over himself. “I don’t think it matters how it started, it matters that I told you Daphne is off limits.” He leaned in to March who refused to look him in the eye.

“You knew about this!?” Harmonizing so perfectly that Luke had half a mind to ask them to try again so he could record it, Calum and his wife asked him at once, attacking him with open jaws of disbelief.

“You know what, Cal, you don’t get to be upset. You encouraged my son to go out and find girls.” She walked right behind Daphne’s chair up to her long-time friend, waving her pointed finger right at his nose.

“Not my girl!” As if it was a valid argument, Calum pushed back.

Daphne and March exchanged confused eyes before March winked right at her from across the table, his foot finding her ankle under the table and knocking it playfully. She tried not to giggle and just swat his back with her sandal.

“Well, clearly, they are together now and so we just have to set up some rules…” Still arguing, March’s mom suggested between her husband and Calum.

“They aren’t together. This isn’t happening!” Calum waved his arms in the form of a large ‘X’. In his mind, while he loved March, he wasn’t the kind of guy he wanted Daphne distracted with. She had school to focus on which was hard enough. Plus, he had talked to March about girls before and heard him talk in great detail about how boobs were better than fast food after midnight.

Entering through the back door, hair running down her back wet, Penelope entered like surfer Barbie with her canvas bag over her shoulder, digging through it for the new surf magazine she had picked up on the way home. “You two are together? Ew.” Scrunching up her forehead as she entered the kitchen, she mentioned without looking up. “I mean March picks his nose,” Her eyes finally found Daphne, grimacing at her long time friend. “but Daph’s a dime man, way to go.” She adjusted effortlessly to what she had walked in on, offering a hand to her brother and clasping it with praise.

“Pen,” Dropping his head, Luke sighed. “Can you just… go to your room?” He was pleading with her, a sad sorry face finding her still holding her brother’s hand and chuckling to herself from behind his kitchen chair.

“Why do I have to go to my room?” Surprised, Penelope asked and walked around the table on her way out of the kitchen. She could sense the tension that was owning the room and Penelope was against anything that killed her good vibes. “I haven’t had sex with Daph!” Just to rib her brother, she added in and left as soon as she caught the smallest glance of her Uncle Calum going from pale to Casper the not-so Friendly Ghost. Snickering, she raced up the stairs to her room with pride.

“Are you two sleeping together?” Calum shot off his question like a single bullet, not sure he was ready for the answer.

Daphne and March just stared blankly at their laps, knowing they should say ‘no’, but luckily, March’s mom spoke loudly over them. For her, this was karma for all the times Calum encouraged March and Miles to chase skirts when she told him not to.

“You tell him to sleep with girls all the time! Yeah, bet you wish you hadn’t now.”

“Why is this a big deal? All three of you have known us our whole lives, you raised us both.” Sighing, tired already of the drama he was being forced to sit through, March ignored the hole in his jeans and grumbled.

“That’s what’s concerning.” Cal growled, glaring at the kid that he had taught how to skip rocks when he was barely four.

March was instantly offended and wanted to stand up, toss the chair, and storm out of the kitchen. His hands gripped his knees with conviction, but before he could stand up, he saw Daphne nodding at him, her eyes dark, but sweet and lips sticky as he had come to know them. He could hear her voice in his head, telling him that everything was going to be fine.

“You know I would never do anything to hurt Daph.” Breathing in, March ignored his parents in the room and focused in one Calum, ready to sign a contract if he had to. He knew that if Daphne had to choose, she would always choose her Dad, but he wanted her to hear that his intentions were good. He didn’t just want her because she was pretty and laughed at his jokes which was the only reason he kissed her on the diving board. He wanted her because she made him feel like he was cool for all the reasons that he thought he wasn’t. She could tell him what he needed to hear without speaking at all. She made him nervous and it drove him crazy.

Calum wasn’t buying it though. He knew what it was like to be sixteen and male. He felt that he would have had the same reaction to his daughter with any boy, “March, you used to literally roll up balls of dirt and rocks and put them in her mouth.” Memories of a crying Daphne on the tour bus sink, spitting out mud as March was laughing through a lecture from his dad in the back room were as fresh as his haircut.

“I haven’t don’t that in like ten, seven years …” Rolling his eyes, March dropped his hands between his knees and sighed again. “We really like each other and, sure, she could do better, but I don’t think I could so I’m not going to mess this up. We just want to hang out together. You can tell us not to, but that’s not going to stop me.” This time, he was talking more to his own Dad, a man who could always talk sense into Calum Hood. Luke looked torn, biting his lip where his own ring used to be, where his son’s now was. He glanced up at his wife, but she just shrugged her shoulders. She knew as well as he did that they couldn’t truly keep Daphne and March away from one another.

“You love us individually, so maybe you could grow to love us together…” Daphne was focusing on the floor, the sight of her ankle crossed with March’s under the table all she could see as she meekly peeped.

Reticence filled the room, a silence not even Daphne was comfortable in taking over, and all eyes seemed to be on Calum with the exception of Daphne and March who found safety in the earth tone kitchen tiles. Daphne’s head went through the first verse of ‘Hey, That’s No Way To Say Goodbye’, her favorite song by Leonard Cohen and the only thing she could play on guitar thanks to her father teaching her, and by the time she reached main line, her father was speaking again.

“What were you two planning to do tonight?” Very reluctantly, Calum asked and groaned at once.

Daphne’s smile shone as she lifted up her head, gypsy hair flying behind her and found her father looking back at her with sad eyes, the kind that couldn’t let go.

Even Luke was breathing a sigh of relief. He had been fearful that the whole thing might end with Calum laying into him or chasing him through his house until there was a Luke shaped hole in the wall next to March’s dead body.

“I think we were just going to cruise in Daphne’s new car.” March came up with on the spot. He was in desperate need to get out of the house now and he looked at it as a chance to finally take Daphne out, even if she had to drive.

“I want to come! I want to come!” From the top of the flight of stairs, Penelope chanted. She had been listening in intently, biting on the inside of her mouth to keep her laughter inside. It was revenge for all of the times her two little brothers listened in and did nothing as she was being ripped into by her parents for staying out past curfew or surfing when she wasn’t supposed to be. Her long legs rushed down the stairs, ready by the front door to go for a ride in the plum hatchback that she had already been in twice before.

“There is going to be rules, you two.” Luke smacked his son’s back and squeezed his shoulder once he was beside him, both standing. “Like no sleepovers….”

“No hanging out with doors closed.” Calum eyeballed Daphne as she had her arms around his neck, standing up on the tips of her toes and whispering ‘I love you’ in his ear until he hugged her back. Calum’s grip was strong, hoping that he could press her into him until it would be too painful for her to even try to let go.

“And no sneaking in through my bathroom window.” Luke pointed right at Daphne, his blue eyes sharp as steak knives, before he messed up the top of her hair with his hand.

March took off to the front door with Penelope, following his big sister outside into the rain to find Daphne’s car parked right outside. If Luke hadn’t seen her in his window, March knew that eventually one of his parents or even Calum would have walked by the English windows of their living room and spotted the car.

Luke followed, steps behind, Daphne as she went to the front door, her purse on her person still. He left Calum and his wife in the kitchen, knowing they could talk amongst themselves for a moment, maybe even make jokes about how Calum shouldn’t have been so supportive of March’s teenage urges.

“Hey Daph…?” She was reaching out for the door as he Luke called for her, looking at his toes that were in need of some grooming, and then raising his face to her as it was illuminated by the rain outside, a blue haze covering her in a dark hue. “Don’t break my son’s heart.” He advised with a nod that made how serious he was being abundantly clear. “I don’t think he could handle it.” It wasn’t something that Luke wanted his son knowing, but he knew that beyond the devil-may-give-a-shit attitude that March embodied was an emotional kid and he could tell what March felt for Daphne was sincere. Luke had been sixteen before and he knew how everything felt like the end of the world at that age. He loved Daphne, but he had to protect his son – that was his job.

Nodding back, Daphne half-smiled, “I won’t. I could never…” She didn’t have a cruel bone in her body. Even when she was being teased at school, Daphne never thought to retaliate, she just thought to walk away and go home. When March used to push her down as children, she never pushed back. She just found somewhere soft to curl up and nap.

“Okay.” Luke turned to return to the kitchen, hoping the night could be salvaged and knowing it would be once Michael arrived. “And you know you come to me if he needs his ass handed to him.” He spoke to her while walking away.

“I think Penny could cover me there.” Daphne laughed and waved goodbye to his backside. The two girls hadn’t had a chance to speak about the fact that Daphne and March were going to try and see one another, but she knew that Penelope had her back as she always had. She had always been there to set anyone straight if they took on Daphne as a target.

Daphne didn’t feel worried though. There was excitement tingling in her bones and she ran through the rain to her car where Penelope and March were getting soaked, a smile that could shine brighter than any sun could anyway on her face.



One of the biggest differences between how a movie is made today versus any time in the past is that studios are calling their shots way in advance, and the production process is less about finding the perfect story and is instead a frenzied race to meet a quota. So while it used to be that you could hire one or two people to write a script, go through revisions, begin production, and finally create a trailer after the film was completed – movies like Rogue One don’t have time to compartmentalize those steps. That’s why the film’s dialogue is still being written after a trailer has already been released with fully rendered CGI effects.

And this is completely common practice now – as companies will often pre-edit a teaser trailer based on the script alone, forcing productions to lock down and shoot certain scenes early so films like The Force Awakens can have a visually explosive promo released a mere month after principal photography. So much for any major rewrites!  

It’s a science now, one that’s grown the trailer industry from a dozen editing firms in 2000 to over a hundred today. In order to stay on top, companies have begun honing the exact images and sounds that will trigger fans, drum up conversation, and preview future toys and merchandise for investors. And this super-hype-machine is becoming so efficient that we’re no longer just seeing teasers for movies anymore … but for the movies getting made. That’s right – the next Trainspotting,Transformers, and Star Wars have all released teaser trailers telling us when they plan to start production like it’s a high school promise ring or some shit.

5 Reasons It’s Now Impossible To Tell If A New Movie’s Good