Idk

idk 🤷🏼‍♀️

i refuse to watch any baseball game unless the rangers are playing 😋

you know it would be really nice IF THE METS COULD WIN AGAINST THE FUCKING ROYALS

real

(i can’t really say anything)(i add to the chaos)

you can always tell when a hughes bro or someone from the 2019 draft class posts because the timeline on every social media app goes absolutely nuts

happy libby happy libby happy libby happy libby

poor luke :( ellen not letting libby stay was probably a good thing. i don’t think he would’ve let her go

libby and quinn have my heart 🫶🏻

it's like looking through a time machine | these michigan summers

series masterlist

a/n: this is probably the most normal part in spring '19 if i'm being honest - no angst whatsoever

SPRING '19

"I always knew you and Quinn would end up together."

Libby choked on the orange wedge she'd been snacking on. Her face twisted as she forcibly swallowed the orange. She spared her grandmother a cursory glance before returning to cutting up the vegetables. "What brought that up?"

Dorothea shrugged. "Just thinking. Ellen and I always wondered when it would happen."

"When?" Libby raised an eyebrow. "Had no doubt about it, huh?"

Dorothea hummed her assent, looking out the kitchen window, where her husband and Quinn were talking and pointing at things throughout the yard from the snow-covered back porch. She snickered, knowing Quinn had probably been roped into a conversation about repairs and renovations unwillingly.

"Sweetheart, c'mere." Dorothea waved Libby over.

Libby lowered the knife and stepped toward her grandmother, following her gaze. She laughed at how Quinn and Sam had their hands on their hips, nodding along to whatever the other was saying. Quinn almost looked like a typical middle-aged dad in the making. Libby was glad that her grandfather had found someone else to wrangle into the cold to talk about yard work.

As if he'd felt her staring, Quinn glanced over his shoulder and met her gaze through the window. His lips broke out in a smile, and he winked before seamlessly rejoining the conversation with Sam.

"That boy loves you so much," said Dorothea, watching Sam wrap his arm around Quinn's shoulders. "You've got yourself a good one."

Libby's smile was shy as she went back to the cutting board. "I know."

Eventually, Sam and Quinn trudged into the house, shrugging their winter coats and boots off at the door, a gust of cold air barreling in with them. Shivers rolled through Libby's body despite the warm steam frothing from the pot.

"Coming in from behind," Quinn mumbled before his arms circled her waist. Despite his warning, her body jolted at the frigidness of his hands that seeped through the material of her shirt. He kissed her cheek before hooking his chin against her shoulder with an apology whispering past his lips. "What'd you make?"

"Matzah ball soup."

A flicker of surprise sparked through Quinn. "For Lukey?"

Libby hummed. "I was gonna ask your parents what they normally make when you're sick, but they seemed pretty busy as it is, so I asked Geegs, and she sent me a recipe for it."

"You're literally the girl of my dreams."

Her cheeks reddened at his words as she reached for a spoon so he could try some.

"Grandpa and I are going out tonight," said Dorothea—a little forewarning that Libby would have to tend to dinner herself.

"Yeah?" Libby turned her head. "You gonna be okay, old man?"

Sam scoffed with a roll of his eyes. "I'm perfectly fine."

"Hey, you were the one complainin' that the chemo pills were making you dizzy this morning. I was just making sure."

Libby let the soup simmer in the pot, and the four of them remained crowded in the kitchen, locked in a conversation that had her and Sam jokingly raising their voices at each other. The instigator and the granddaughter who always had the short end of the stick and an increasingly short fuse.

Quinn and Dorothea exchanged amused glances, nestled into their respective partners' sides. There was no doubt in any of their minds that Libby was Sam's granddaughter with the way they dished back comments at each other.

"Alright, Sunshine. That's enough." Quinn clamped his hand over Libby's mouth, only for her tongue to swipe against his palm in protest. He wrenched his hand away, wiping it against his jeans.

"Never thought I'd see the day when Quinn would tell Libby to shut up," Dorothea snickered.

"He does it all the time." Libby grinned proudly.

Quinn rolled his eyes. "No, I don't."

"More than you would've when you first met," Sam commented. "Sweetheart, you remember how shy Quinn was around Libby?"

Libby glanced at her boyfriend, whose cheeks were blazing red, eyes darting across the room as if he were searching for a place to hide. She laughed to herself because it seemed like being unrelated to them didn't stop him from being picked on by her family—if anything, dating her only encouraged her grandparents' antics.

"Yeah, he could barely string together a sentence without stuttering," Dorothea recalled. "Pretty sure Libby did all the talking for the both of them."

"Hell yeah, I did!" Libby puffed her chest out.

"Little Miss Chatterbox," said Quinn. "I remember that's what Nancy called you. She wasn't wrong."

Libby blindly pushed his face away.

It wasn't long before Dorothea excused herself to get ready for her date with Sam, despite his claims that she looked perfect just the way she was, to which she merely rolled her eyes. While Dorothea was busy, Libby returned her attention to the soup on the stove, asking Quinn to taste test it before she brought the pot to the house next door.

Wrapping the handles with a kitchen towel, Libby clung onto the pot and trailed behind Quinn as he held the back door open for her. They hurried through the freezing outdoors without their coats, with Libby snapping at Quinn to hurry up so she could be cozy again.

"Stop yapping at me, woman!" Quinn clambered up the porch steps.

Libby mimicked him as goosebumps billowed across her skin, pale from the late winter dreariness. "You skate up and down the ice every weekend with no problem, but you can't even run to open the door for me?"

Quinn pressed his lips into a thin line, yanking the back door open. His arm sliced through the air, gesturing for her to head inside. "There you go, princess."

She wiped the soles of her slides on the welcome mat, sticking her tongue out at him. Quinn merely laughed, giving her ass a light tap as she walked past him. Libby playfully rolled her eyes at the action. "You're just cranky I don't baby you."

"Because my brother totally needs to be babied," Quinn scoffed, trailing behind her. "He's fifteen."

"Uh, oh, trouble in paradise?"

Libby's shoulders jumped at the sound of Trevor's voice. Her head turned to where he stood by the sink, filling up a glass of water with amusement tangled all across his expression. She sighed before walking into the kitchen to place the pot of soup on the stove.

"You two bicker like an old married couple," said Trevor.

"You try dating Quinn," she remarked.

"No, thanks."

Libby snickered as Trevor turned off the faucet.

"What're you doing here?" asked Quinn. "Thought Jack said you guys weren't gonna be here."

Trevor shrugged. "Change of plans, I guess."

Libby grabbed a bowl while Quinn searched for the ladle, the both of them too preoccupied with getting some soup ready for an ailing Luke that they didn't notice Trevor slipping away from the basement, where the rest of his friends were.

"Can you freeze the rest?" she asked Quinn, and he nodded, letting her go upstairs with a warm bowl of homemade soup. She knocked on Luke's door before walking into his room, her lips immediately pulling into a frown when she noticed him bundled up in all sorts of blankets, head barely poking up to reveal the dark circles around his eyes, skin pale like he'd never seen the sun in his life. Libby glanced at Ellen, who had her son cuddled into her side. "That bad, huh?"

"I feel like I'm dying," Luke mumbled, his voice nasally and raspy.

"Well, I come bearin' soup," she said, and Ellen mouthed an appreciative thank you. Libby brushed it off. "Wanna swap? I can stay up here."

Luke wiggled his arms out from under the pile of blankets to reach for Libby. "Please stay."

Ellen smacked Luke's hands down before turning to Libby. "No, it's okay. Don't want you getting sick."

"You sure?" Libby asked, handing her the bowl of soup.

Ellen nodded, and Luke whined.

Libby laughed, brushing his matted curls out of his face to plant a swift kiss on his burning forehead. "Sorry, Lu. What Mom says goes."

Luke groaned, throwing his head back against his pile of pillows. "I feel like death, and I can't even get what I want."

With a roll of her eyes, Libby walked away. She stopped at the door, however, to let Ellen know that there was extra soup in the freezer.

"You're seriously the best," Ellen praised, and Libby's cheeks burned a bright red. "Are you staying for dinner? I know Sam and Thea are going out tonight."

Libby waved her off. "Don't worry about it. I'll cook something up. You've got enough on your hands right now."

"Are you calling me a burden?" Luke grumbled.

"You're bein' dramatic. Been talking to my mamaw too much."

"Mamaw's great," he said deliriously, sounding like he'd consumed one too many servings of cough medicine. "Love Mamaw."

Libby and Ellen exchanged a glance and the former mouthed "Good luck" before slipping out of the room. Walking downstairs, Libby found Quinn and Jack tied up in a conversation. She smiled at the scene: Quinn could say he wanted to go home that weekend just to spend some extra time with her all he wanted, but she knew it was really to see his family.

"He looks like he got hit by a truck," Libby said, making her presence known.

"What, did Mom not let you coddle him?" Quinn joked.

She frowned. "Maybe."

Quinn laughed as she tucked herself into his side. They heard Jack retch at the sight of them, and Libby stuck her tongue out at him.

Jack mimicked her before asking, "Anyway, are you two doing anything? You know, aside from ogling at each other. Gross, by the way."

"I know you're not talkin', mister," Libby retorted. "Let's get Chelsea in here."

A light tint of pink spread across Jack's face, adding to Libby's smugness. He huffed. "Whatever. The guys and I are watching a movie in the basement."

"Is Chelsea there?"

Jack hesitated, and that was enough for Libby to know the answer. Her face lit up before she darted out of Quinn's arms and into the basement, nearly falling down the stairs as she skipped steps. Jack's footsteps thundered behind her, and their quarreling voices captured the attention of everyone there.

"Chelsea!" Libby exclaimed.

Jack launched himself forward, tackling Libby. They tussled over the carpeted floor, ignoring the encouraging chants his friends gave them until Libby flipped him onto his back and scurried over to the couch.

Chelsea held her arms open for Libby to jump into. "Sissy!"

"I can't believe Jack lets you call her Sissy," grumbled Cole as Jack huffed from the floor. "I swear I tried once and nearly lost my head."

"Me too, and I live with them," Alex piped up.

Libby rolled off Chelsea, forcing Trevor to move aside as she squeezed her way into his spot. "Because he's in love," she sang teasingly.

"Yeah, alright," Jack mumbled, sitting up and fixing his shirt, though no one could deny the blush on his cheeks.

Quinn finally made his way into the basement. "I could feel the house shake."

Jack and Libby swapped a glance before pointing at each other, throwing blame back and forth like a game of hot potato. Quinn merely sighed before telling Trevor to move over with a swipe of his hand.

"Oh, c'mon," Trevor groaned, though he obliged without another word. "I was just sitting here."

Libby grinned as Quinn sat down, his arm draping against the cushions behind her. "All love, Z."

"Which is what he has for you," Alex snickered.

"Very funny," Trevor said dryly.

"Need a pillow to cover something?" Quinn joked.

Libby choked on a laugh before patting her boyfriend's thigh. "Alright, give him a break before we run this joke to the ground. Now, start the movie."

we love to do it!

anything we can do to push you a little farther every day we do 🫶🏻

dude older sisters are the best. I told my sister I had cramps and she brought me a chocolate chip muffin, a heating pad, meds and water. if you're an older sibling I love you....thank you for taking care of your siblings 🫶🏻

Cowpoke

welcome to finding charlie!

next

lowercase intended

when a girl from texas finds her self intertwined with the world of sticks and pucks.

if anyone has any questions regarding the actual ranching part shoot me a message and i'll give you an explanation!

the early dawn was shining on the body strewn across the sheets. the body peacefully sleeping was quietly awoken by the rays. 

her eyes slowly adjusting to the light 

“why must we wake up so early?” charlotte asked in the quiet of her room. she begins to make the trek across the floor to her now, slowly opening door,

“hey shug, just making sure you were up.” a soft-spoken elderly woman said to her. 

“yeah mawmaw, i’m awake, has pa made breakfast yet?” charlie responds. 

“no, your daddy did, he’s tacking the horses up with the hands.” dorothy responds

“are we sure that the food is edible?” charlie jokes

“you’re funny shug, i’m sure your daddy is perfectly capable of making the four of us breakfast” dottie laughs. the two women begin their journey down the stairs, 

“hey momma, hey babygirl. ready to get to work?” graham asks his daughter while flipping an egg. 

“not really but someone has to do it, we can’t let chloe and the rest of the hands do it alone.” she laughs as a weathered gentleman walks in from the daylight-ridden ground. 

“how is my favorite person this morning?” henry asks

“great dad, hows my favorite person?” graham responds causing the other people in the room to tumble over in laughter. 

“now baby you know that wasn’t meant for you.” his mother says with residual laughter coating her face. 

“haha of course i did momma, my babygirl has always been his favorite.” he says with a soft smile

“i don’t know about that now daddy, momma would’ve given that answer a run for its money,” charlie says with the same smile on her face,

“c’mon y’all, now lets not kick off our day with a grim start.” dorothy says before grabbing the cooler full of water and gatorade. 

“now shug go ahead and get on some work attire, you can’t ranch and ride in your pajamas.” her grandma said in a warm tone

“yes ma’am,” charlie says before walking up the same stairs she came down thirty minutes before.

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

the once calm sun, now beating down on the crowd of cows and people.

“you sure know how to pick ‘em mr.jamison,” chloe says wiping the beads of sweat from off her hat-line.  

“you sure do pa, it's hotter than hell out here” charlie adds on,

“yeah mr,jamie, why’d you choose the hottest day of the summer to do this?” anthony, a ranch hand says.

“oh y’all quit your complaining, let’s get this done before the real heat starts to hit you lot.” henry nags on their complaining.

“WOULD SOMEONE COVER THE FLANK FOR ME?” charlie yells as she sees a cow and calf begin to move out of the circle. she goes to grab her rope and begin to circle it in the air,

“CHARLIE GO BACK TAKE YOUR POSITION LET THE SWING HANDLE THE LOOSE ONES” graham yells at her from behind

“i almost had ‘em” she mutters to herself as she drags her horse to get back into their position. she couldn’t help with the way she was feeling, although she knew that her anger was unnecessary, all her dad wanted was to keep her safe. especially after what her mom went through, and she never wanted her dad to go through that pain again.

the drive was long and tiring but that’s the price you have to pay when you’re generations deep into a cattle ranch. all charlotte wanted was a cold shower and to relax, but her day was far from over.

“hey shug, when you’re done untacking your horses wanna come start dinner with me?” dottie asked her granddaughter.

“of course i do, mawmaw! give be about thirty minutes to cool down stetson and i’ll be right in!” charlie said with a grin adorning her face

“actually i might need a quick shower before,” as she said that her face screwed up, “i smell pretty bad.”

“alright hopalong, see you when you don’t smell like you’ve been rolling in cow patties.” dottie says laughing as she walks back to the house.

while she and stetson were winding down from their eventful day, charlie couldn’t help but think about how much she wished her mom was there with her.

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

charlie had finally made her way downstairs after her much needed shower.

“it’s about time you got down here” henry said to her

“would you rather me sit here and make your food while i’m covered in dirt and sweat?” she asks with a smirk lacing her lips.

“no i guess not” he says with a small laugh. charlie walks into the kitchen, admiring her grandmother from afar.

“you know staring is rude shug?” dottie says whilst turning around.

“can’t a girl look at her grandma with admiration without being nagged?” she says with the same bright smile that once shined on a similar face.

“whatever, come help me make these biscuits before those men get restless.” dottie says before turning around so she can start the chicken.

“how was the wagon without me mawmaw?” charlie asks

“not near as exciting, no one drives that buggy like you do.” dorothy softly laughs, “how was being back with the team?”

“not as exciting as i remember, i’m not used to being so stagnant. you know?” charlie thought out loud, “is it bad to say i miss the thrill of being in the middle of the problem?”

“no, of course not shug. you’ve been doing this since you could ride by yourself. being on the back burner is hard when you’re used to bubbling over all the time.” dorothy tells her before ushering her out of the way of what she need. charlotte took that a sign to finish up with her biscuit making.

“alright, ive got this dough shaped it just needs some time in the oven” charlie says as she put the cast iron of biscuits in the oven. dorothy nodded her head as she breaded the final pieces of chicken to fry.

“alright shug, i can finish up from here. why don’t you go set the table and find out what those hooligans want to drink, hmm?” dottie asked

“yes ma’am.” charlie replied before disappearing into the dining room. she begun laying the plates down, 5 place settings, one for henry, one for dorothy, one for graham, one for her, and one for clara. even though charlotte’s mom had passed almost 6 months ago, no one had the strength to leave her seat empty.

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

dinner had commenced but not without some banter between the son and father. charlotte had taken it upon herself to clean up after everyone to catch some peace of mind before her day starts all over again.

charlie had made her way up the stairs for the final time today. although instead of turning into her room, she took the turn into the den. she thought some tv would do her a little good after the day she had.

she surfed channels for awhile before settling on some old western, when her grandpa walked in.

“hey pumpkin, watching el dorado are we?” henry asks before plopping down right next to his granddaughter. charlie nods while dropping her head on to his shoulder. he responded by wrapping his arm around hers in turn. charlie eventually fell asleep, and henry didn’t have the heart to move her, she looked so content just laying there.

charlie stayed asleep until a nightmare plagued her mind. she woke up with a shine on her forehead and decided she wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep. she, once again, began to channel surf before seeing a familiar face. although she couldn’t quite place the young man, she knew him from somewhere. she paused before getting lost in the way the men slid across the ground, seemingly chasing nothing.

she didn’t know it then but that one interview would change her life, but would it be for the best?

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

the mystery person! sorry i thought i put that in there!!

on a scale of 1-quinn with trevor

how often does libby want to bash their head in (lovingly 😀)

wait whose head 😭😭

because i can see this applying to so many different characters