#SHE'S KILLIN IT ON THAT BOARD

[forsworned]

hey pookie i saw your requests were open so i thought id drop by with this little nugget

simon x older sister reader who loves her family more than anything but has a weird inner turmoil with them kind of like fiona gallagher style

sort of “as your child im still mad but as a human i forgive you”

possibly military x cop brat, had to step up to raise her siblings and she’s thankful for everything her parents did for them and understands both are traumatized but also has a lot of resentment for the amount of stress and caretaking she did for her parents and her siblings.

really shows with the way she loves simon too. always taking care of him bc it’s the only thing she knows how to do to show someone you love him and it’s exactly what simon thinks he needs, someone to borderline mother him with their affection and caretaking. but he starts to feel almost condescended?? when she won’t let him take care of her. she feels unheard bc she has this feeling, no matter how unjustified, that if she doesn’t do everything herself it won’t get done. only way they know to argue is yelling but after a few really difficult nights they sit down and eventually they start to sort it out

they’re just two traumatized people leaning to love eachother your honor

"How was work today?"

You inquire, chopping the leek on the wooden board before tossing it into the pot. Simon glances over at the dark circles under your eyes, and your hunched stances over the stove before you peer over at him.

"' was fine." He slowly moves closer to you. "Lemme help." He puts his hand over yours and reflexively jerks your hand away from him.

"I'm fine." You practically spit at him. His eyes harden slightly at your reaction. Knowing the past family trauma that you had both been through it was common, but today, Simon's patience is wearing thin.

"You're not fine." He retorts, taking the knife out of your hand. You try yank it back, but he's quicker. "I want to take care of you for once, [name]. Let me. Please."

Simon begging to help you isn't new, but usually, he had given up to avoid confrontation. Today, however, he is not backing down so quickly.

You lip quivers. "If I don't do it—"

"—No one will?" Simon finishes for you. He scoffs, setting the knife down on the counter. You reach for it again and he slides it away further from you. "Tha's a load of horseshit and you know it. 'm not some incompetent fool. I can take care of myself and you."

You avert your gaze to the kitchen tile, letting out a shaky breath as you wipe away the tears pricking at your eyes with the back of your sleeve. "It's all I know how to do." You whisper, hugging yourself. "Ever since Mom and Dad passed..."

You choke on your sobs, and Simon sighs before wrapping his burly arms around you in a comforting hug. His chin rests on the top of your head, and you swallow thickly.

"I know, I know." He rubs your arm. "But we're all grown up now, eh?"

He pulls back to look down at you, and his words make you crack a smile through your tears. "Yeah, we are."

"So stop being so harsh on yourself. Live your life for you, [name]." He stares intently at you, gently jostling you with every word. You nod and rub your eyes again.

"Besides, I know you've got a thing for Johnny and..." He begins, and your cheeks warm at his unexpected words.

He raises his brows at your bashful expression before chuckling.

"I don't!" You protest, crossing your arms, but Simon sees right through you.

"He says he's been dying to tell you—"

"Lalalalala!" You cover your ears with your hands as you run out of the kitchen. He shakes his head as he resumes the cooking you left behind. If it gets you out of taking care of him, he'd do it again and again. The biggest perk? He was telling the truth. So, his plan to get you out of the house is already working.

"Killin two birds with one stone," Simon murmurs to himself, smiling as he stirs the pot.

[charleslee-valentine]

Chance

For the Texas Chainsaw Massacre Disability Pride Month Event: Day Five- Victims

Word Count: ~1,600

Warnings: Death mention, mild internalized ableism, grief and anxiety.

_________

Turns out a giant grenade blast echoing around cave tunnels could do some pretty serious damage to the ear drums. Also turns out hearing aids ain’t some magical fix for hearing loss like Stretch might’ve once thought. Curse her former self for being so clueless about this way of life. Privileged little lady she used to be.

Bopping her head to music of any quality, let alone the shitty radio approved stuff, ain’t an option any more, took it for granted while it lasted. Hated that job and loved it at the same time, but she was too hard on it all. Only way they’re getting any of her ears back to working is surgery and tapping into bone, which Stretch ain’t willing to allow. Stitches and blood and metal in her head, just seems like a bad omen still.

Losing Lg would always be the worst part though. Take all her hearing, take her vision and her tongue and her spine, none of that would matter if sweet Lg hadn’t been taken down as a pawn.

They’d’ve found a way to talk without words and deafness getting in the way. Lg would’ve been patient and calm when she had her fits of frustration over the tinnitus making the inside of her head ring like a church bell.

She wears his keys on a necklace chain and as many of his clothes she could track down on her back. Keeping at least his memory close if he can’t be there in person. Guilt and regret and all can’t last forever when they were the sacrifices. The fault, if they’re really gonna place it, can only go to Lefty Enright, but he’s dead too. Checked to be sure when they were investigating that damned explosion and started pulling bodies out. He’s still legally a John Doe, but she recognized his mangled face.

Three hundred and eleven unique sets of bones were recovered from that place alongside him. Almost none of them complete, maybe being just a finger or two that didn’t belong to one of the more full bodies they were finding and had to be classed on its own. Among them, most of Lg was recovered and buried, gratefully including his face and his hat. That meant her business was done.

That’s her reason for stayin’ inside so much now. Her mama calls and she screens it right away. Writes a letter or a card instead that never gets a response. Doesn’t leave the house except for to restock on supplies. Food, hygiene, bullets. That kind of thing.

Against her better judgment she has a television in her kitchen, watching adverts for things to grab on her trips instead of browsing the shelves. Tries new things and usually hates them so bad she reverts right back to the routine that’s keepin’ her living. Stretch won’t stay out in the world a second longer than she has to.

Unless it’s to drop by the bulletin boards.

Stretch keeps track of the missing posters. The immortalized ink-blot faces she hopes she doesn’t ever have to recognize. When new ones appear, that’s her sign to make herself scarce again until it feels safe, and even then she’s got her pistol in her purse and a knife in each pocket. Never too careful. No such thing.

But nothing could prepare her for the day Lefty’s face joins the sea of forgotten souls.

“Enright, Boude AKA Lefty. Last seen in October of 1986. The missing person suffers from schizophrenia and is likely off of medications. He may be confused and in need of medical attention. We ask if you see him not to confront him. Contact The Hardesty family investigation in cooperation with Fort Worth police.”

The phone numbers listed included the police station, the sheriff's personal line, and one Sally Hardesty.

The last time Stretch saw that name she was readin’ in the paper that Sally’s tormentors had struck again killin’ those two kids on that bridge. Following that lead had doomed her to a similar fate. Similar losses. Everyday she regrets being stupid enough to play that tape and believe Lefty was going to call in backup and help. Turns out he wasn’t even a ranger anymore when she met him, but it’s too late to stay furious.

Stretch scrawls the numbers on the back of a receipt and gets the hell out of there before she breaks down inside a super store. Might be a hell of a sight to take her little ass to the garden section and wield a hedge trimmer like a saw against imaginary threats. Could go down in flames like the man ‘ come before her.

Instead she goes home and cries into her couch pillow ‘til she can’t breathe through her nose and passes out into a feverish sleep. Real badass now, huh. Sometimes she wonders how she even survived. If all of her did.

All by herself she crawled on her belly through Hell and she’d be damned if she just laid down and died after all of that. So why is she so nervous to just dial the phone and tell Miss Sally Hardesty the truth and the full one at that.

Well, maybe she wouldn’t have the heart to tell her the kind of man her uncle was. Sacrificing her and Lg when he knew better than most the brutality of that family. At this point it’s not even a complicated ordeal. She doesn’t forgive Lefty, even dead and gone. Why should she? She hasn’t just stopped loving poor Lg.

Still Sally deserves to know he’s dead. Closure and all. There’s just the problem or Stretch’s ears. Phone calls don’t work for her, the fuzz of traveling voices blocking out just about anything she might’ve been able to hear in the muffled way she does.

To the library it is. Computer records, phone books, she’ll be able to get an address for Sally off of that phone number and send her a letter.

It takes two trips, but she succeeds, her letter already written between all her frantic digging. The chase, the investigation, it makes her heart race and catch in her throat and she struggles to breathe. Actions like scrolling, filing, flipping through pages, it all reminds her of her job at the radio station. Of the beau who was by her side back then. Has to shake off the nostalgiac haze when she leaves.

Stretch is grateful once she can just mail the letter informing Sally her posters are futile, then maybe take her mind off it for a while.

The response comes only about half a week later, a good sign for their proximity and ability to meet up. Because that’s all Sally asked for actually. She wasn’t disturbed, didn’t call the police like Stretch might’ve if someone admitted to finding her address as public information.

Sally’s letter reads:

“Miss Brock.

I heard your situation down the grapevine. I wondered myself if I should reach out. I’m grateful you did first. My worried heart couldn’t decide one way or the other.

How can I begin this? Maybe with ‘I’m sorry.’ I’m sorry that I couldn’t convince them that Hell on earth was real in time. I’m sorry you got dragged into it and further down by my uncle. He’d always been that way, too headstrong for his own good. I guess I suspected all along he was dead. Two years is a long time to be on his own somewhere.

I hope it’s been long enough for you to heal somewhat. At least physically. I haven’t been quite the same since my survival and it’s been sixteen years for me. Please pardon the wobbly handwriting, my hands still shake. If it’s alright, I’ll pray for you. That the doctors may find a way to help your hearing, or better, that inventors might create a way to make the world easier without having to change you. It would be nice if the world could change for us once.

Miss Brock, it would mean a lot if we could meet in person. I trust you’ll bring protection and I will too. I carry a Cobra everywhere I go. Together I think we’d be safe enough to at least grab a coffee. I know a place. Write me back if you’d like, or don’t. I’m grateful for having the chance to have ever written you either way.

Thank you for sharing the news about my uncle, and for bringing some light back to this broken old wench’s day. I’ll get over my heartbreak eventually.

-Sally Ann.”

Stretch reads it over and over, like if she does it enough times the letter might reveal itself to be a trick or trap of sorts. Nothing stands out. Really, she figures their mutual tormentors likely wouldn’t even be able to spell well enough to write a letter like that. Or mail it in a darling pink envelope.

Scared as she might be, to accept leaving the house, and communication with a stranger she had to essentially stalk to find and the moral qualms of all that, on top of struggling to communicate at all with her deafness- Stretch finds this is the first time in two years she’s had something to look forward to.

She cries again, not ashamed of al the tears that fall by this point, gettin’ little wet splotches all over her page while scrawling her confirmation. Sally will likely understand.

“Blessed Miss Hardesty.

I’m there. Let’s do this next week sometime. I won’t go out ‘til after Friday, the 13th. Is that alright?

-Vanita Brock, but you miss, can call me Stretch.”

[simmeons]

thirteenth story for @badthingshappenbingo's bingo :)

characters; Montgomery Scott, Leonard McCoy, Pavel Chekov, some guy named Dexter and some unnamed crew

words; 1,544

warnings; getting stabbed, Scotty is STILL killin these hoes, descriptions of injuries, more blood yay, guns(?? they're phasers but) and animal attack (Scotty is said animal)

prompt; Stabbing

FYI; this is a continuation of THIS story!!! friendly reminder this is the Mirror Verse- people are assholes! fuck em all!!!

Scotty roared in anger as the doors closed, slamming his fists against the walls of the turbolift. He slammed his back against the metal once, twice, his scaled body scraping against it as he slid down to the floor of the turbolift.

He was trapped, and it was all that damn stupid doctor's fault.

Forced to wait, Scotty stirred in his anger as he waited for the turbolift to continue its journey before the doors opened, leaving Scotty to leave the turbolift. He looked around cautiously, having to move his whole head to look around due to only having one. No matter- the sea monster pushed himself up onto his hind legs, standing more like a human again.

Scotty prowled through the empty corridors, his breaths deep and heavy, the air tinged with the coppery scent of blood still lingering on his scales. All the doors were locked, and the turbolifts he was coming across were closed too. The one he was trapped in seemed to be the last one able to operate during the lockdown, but stopped when he was let out.

There was a soft whimpering he heard, and his head poked around a corner.

There was a woman laying on the floor, a very pregnant one at that. She looked up, terror filling her eyes as she saw the large hulking sea monster, red blood looking black against his scales in the lighting.

“Please…” She begged, tears filling her eyes as he tried to crawl away. The other crewmen must've simply shoved past her and left her for dead. “Don't hurt me. Please, I'm begging…”

Scotty’s eye looked over her trembling form, seeing how she was rendered practically useless. His breathing was ragged when looking at her, watching as she pleaded helplessly. He remained still, watching her like a predator before a thudding sound made his head whirl around.

Footsteps. More than just one pair of them, no less.

Abandoning the easy prey, Scotty turned from the woman and made his way to the sound.

---------------------------

“Stay with me, Pavel,” McCoy urged. “You’re gonna be okay. Just keep your eyes open, alright?”

Chekov managed a weak nod, his breathing shallow and ragged. “I’m sorry, Doctor… I didn’t mean to…”

“Shh, don’t talk.” The doctor interrupted, his tone firm but gentle. “Just focus on staying awake. We’re gonna get you to Sickbay, and you’re gonna be fine. You hear me?”

The ensign nodded as McCoy kept wrapping the wounds the best he could with the pocket roll of bandages he had. The blaring alarm had stopped on their floor of the ship, allowing some relief. Doors were open too, allowing some other trained medical crewmen to come help. It was a rough patch job, but with more hands on board, McCoy was able to get Chekov more ready for Sickbay. They just had to carry him to a turbolift and go down a floor. Thankfully McCoy had gotten Scotty trapped elsewhere so this rescue mission was 10 times easier.

Chekov made a noise of pain as he was lifted up by several doctors, having to do it the old way since stretchers only went out from Sickbay. McCoy felt bad for the man, but he couldn't hide the inner thrill of it all. His favorite experiment had gone absolutely ballistic- and it was glorious.

He had wondered if Scotty had it in him. He was always an ass, but usually remained docile. But now he was acting like a wild animal without any form of self control. His only regret was not being there to watch him really let loose. He would've been able to fend off Scotty much better than Chekov.

---------------------------

The footsteps were growing closer, and Scotty was remaining as hidden away as he could. Hunkered down to the floor he was frozen in place, ears occasionally twitching as the sound grew closer.

“Where is he?” A man asked aloud, fear clear in his voice.

A female responded. “I feel like we're in an Alien movie.”

There was a scoff in return. “Don't joke like that. A man was seriously injured because of this.”

Scotty poked his head out just enough to steal a glance. The two people- no, 3 of them, were clearly security. Two women and a man. Ginger male, around 20ish years old, and the two women looked similar- brunette hair and slim figure.

“I agree with Dexter,” The previously quiet girl replied. “This is serious, sis.”

“Hey, don't worry! We have phasers, and he doesn't.” The sister nudged the other. “We have an advantage. We just have to be careful, okay?”

Scotty's single eye narrowed as he watched the security team make their way cautiously down the corridor. They were tense, weapons drawn, but they were also distracted by their conversation. The sea monster's nostrils flared as he took in their scent, thinking of what to do.

They were growing closer to his hiding spot- a closet he had pried the doors open on- so he needed to lay and wait, be patient before striking. He had to take them by surprise. He crouched lower, his body coiling like a spring, ready to strike.

The moment the trio stepped past his hiding spot, Scotty lunged. His powerful legs propelled him forward, his claws outstretched as he targeted the person towards the back of the trio- one of the girls.

His fangs sunk deep into her arm with the phaser, jaw tightening around the appendage until he couldn't bite down any harder. His body had forced her to the ground with a blood curdling scream, his claws digging into her delicate human flesh.

“Sister!” The other woman screamed, the man stepping in front of her as he tried to fire at Scotty, but the fear made his hands shaky- the phaser shots never grazing the monster.

With such a firm grip on the woman, Scotty used his legs to push himself back, dragging her with him. She kept screaming and crying out, but it was pointless. His head jerked aggressively, making her drop the phaser, no longer able to hold on she to the severe amount of pain.

The moment the phaser hit the floor, Scotty's tail whipped around, knocking it further away from the other two security officers. The young man in front of the other woman tried to steady his aim, but his hands continued to shake uncontrollably.

"S-Stay back!" He shouted, his voice cracking with fear. "Let her go!"

Scotty growled low in his throat, the sound rumbling through his chest and echoing down the corridor. He released his grip on the woman's arm just enough to roar at them, a warning to stay away. The taste of her blood was sharp and metallic on his tongue, mingling with the coppery scent already filling his nostrils.

The man’s finger twitched on the trigger, and he fired a shot that went wide, narrowly missing Scotty’s head. The sea monster hissed in response, taking that as his cue he's on borrowed time. He bit down on the injured girl’s shirt, dragging her along as she was pretty much useless, her legs kicking out to try and stop from being dragged. Trying to keep the woman over him, Scotty slithered away, essentially using her as a meat shield.

"Stop firing!" The other woman cried, grabbing the man's arm and pulling him back. "You might hit her!”

The man was torn between what to do, and it gave Scotty his opening. He retreated into another darkened corridor, away from the terrified security officers who were seemingly starting to argue- from what Scotty heard when their voices got quieter. His breathing was heavy, each exhale a low growl as he looked around for a place to hide, somewhere he could plan his next move.

Nearby he noticed a hatch on a wall. Hatches weren't electric, so he could snake his way into the jeffie tubes. That's exactly what he needed.

He dropped his prize on the floor, letting go of her. She seemed to pass out, motionless on the floor. The sea monster looked at her closely, unsure of what to do with her. It would be too much of a hassle to bring her with him. Scotty licked his blood coated lips with thought, his singular eye staring at her with contemplation.

Deciding on leaving her, the sea monster went to pull back and leave, but he was caught off guard when the woman reached out with her injured arm, her determination pushing her through the pain.

Shock filled the sea monster’s eye when there was a loud scream of effort, and then a blossom of pain in his side. Hissing out in agony, he ripped himself from her, backing up. Looking down, Scotty saw a dagger lodged deep into his side.

“Karma’s a bitch!” The woman laughed triumphantly, feeling proud of her achievement.

Scotty snarled at her, but he couldn't attack her now. She had definitely drawn attention to them with her shout out- a good proof she was alive. The other 2 would come to get her later, so Scotty couldn't stay long.

Deciding against ripping the dagger out and having an early blood trial, the sea monster rushed to the hatch, and slithered his way inside.

[boygiwrites]

Harley D. Dixon 24

An amazing edit inspired by this story! (Cred to Cora_Line99) Harley D. Dixon's Pinterest Board! Harley D. Dixon's Playlist!

📖Chapter List.

Author's Note.

Almost a whole MONTH later, and I've finally got the next chapter to share with you guys. 😭 To make up for the wait, I made this one extra chunky. Just over 10,000 words. Enjoy reading!

"What about you, Maggie?" Lori's voice comes from downstairs. "Can we get you anything?"

"Naw, that's okay. I just wish my Dad was here, that's all... House feels so wrong without him."

Plodding back down the stairs, I find the three women sitting in the living room together, still talking. They look like a group of friends like this. I quietly take a seat next to them on the vintage sofa, hugging a cushion to my chest. I think I'd rather be out in the woods, laying in a patch of sunny dirt or climbing a stumpy tree, but I wouldn't make it five feet past the fence, not with Dale on watch. So I'm better here.

"He always knows what to do." Maggie muses sullenly. She got a weighty, tired look about her. "Guess I feel wrong without him, too."

"You're doing your best." Lori reassures her. "Those three, they're good at what they do. I'm sure they'll be back with your Dad soon."

She gives a little huff. "Good at killin' folk. We heard what happened to Shane, y'know. Not like it's a secret."

She's right. Ain't a secret. It's the opposite. Everybody knows Rick shot his best friend in the chest and my Dad finished the job. 

"It sounds bad." Jacqui stammers, 'cause it does. "But there was no way they were gonna let him take off with Harley. No way in Hell."

"I'm not sayin' they would've," She lilts, "And I don't blame 'em. But I'm just wonderin' what that might do a person, what it means for 'em."

"It means they'll do whatever it takes to protect their own." Lori calmly explains. "Whatever happens after that is worth the trouble."

"Rick's a good person, Maggie. So is Daryl. So is Glenn. Life is so different for us now that goodness doesn't look the same, anymore."

"I've never had to kill for my family." She fiddles with a stray thread on her jeans. "Life ain't thrown that at me, yet."

"Well, one day, it will." Lori says truthfully. "And when it does, you'll still be a good person, too."

"There was a moment, with Glenn." Her gaze flits between two vague points on the floor as she speaks. "At the pharmacy. We'd split up to save time. I was in the back by myself, pickin' around for meds, and these... these two cold hands grabbed me. They were so much stronger than I thought. I couldn't pry 'em offa me. I couldn't... I had my gun on me but I couldn't. Glenn had to do it for me."

I've had those hands on me before. I can tell she can still feel them on her, too, by the way she shivers. Gross. Best to ignore it.

She shakes her head. "I guess the definition of murder's a lil' skewed nowadays. It ain't always in cold blood like the bible says."

"It isn't." She agrees. "Putting down Shane wasn't all that different from putting down a walker, and we just have to be okay with that."

My body goes cold all at once. I lock eyes with her across the room, dark and cutting. She got no idea what it was like watching him be lured, tricked, the life beaten out of him punch by punch. Nobody should be okay with that. It ain't the same. "How can you say that?"

He was human. I know, 'cause when I held his hand, it was warm. He could think, and feel, and hope. He could bleed.

She gapes a little, glancing at the other women like they'll know what to say. "I— I just meant—"

"He weren't dead." He was somethin' more complicated than that. I know he's gone, but Rick said he'd cherish his memories of him, the good ones, the old ones that are a little harder to recognise, so I will too. "He was sick and hopeful and alive. He was in pain when he died."

"Sweetie," Jacqui breathes beside me, brushing back a lock from my temple, pulling me into a hug. "We know that."

"I'm sorry." She sighs. "I can't... I can't imagine what that must've been like. For any of you. That was insensitive of me to say."

"It weren't nothin' like killin' a walker." I definitely ain't the brightest crayon in the box, but I still know what I saw was murder. It's just somethin' that you can feel, like my heart stunting right before the blood shot out Shane's back. Lori can pretend all she like, but it was different. Rick's a murderer, through and through, and so's my Dad, and so's almost everybody else, but we can still love 'em.

"I guess I just wish it was." She confesses a little sheepishly. "It'd make things a whole lot easier that way."

As Jacqui releases me, I frown, thinking of Dad. "Well, he is a murder. That's what we gotta be okay with."

Looking like somebody who doesn't, she mutters, "I know."

"Whole world's gone to horseshit." Maggie comes out and says, in a sudden way that almost makes us laugh. "Makes sense we would, too."

Jacqui grins, quirking a brow. "And we got that famous tater soup to get us through it, too."

"I think if anybody'd understand that, it'd be Harley." I feel my cheeks flush under her warm, green gaze. "How was Beth, by the way?"

"She seemed," I hesitate, afraid of saying the wrong thing. I'm good at doin' that. I could tell her that her baby sister thinks all she's good for is dyin', that she's revolted with herself just for bein' alive, but that's not the important part. "She seemed like she was sorry."

That surprises her, like she ain't think it was possible. Her face lights up a little as she asks, "She talk?"

I give a nod, making Jacqui snort, impressed. "We been tryna crack her since yesterday. Hardly given us a second glance."

"This is good." Maggie decides. "Y'know, that girl ought'a be sorry. Scared me and poor Daddy half to death, pullin' that stunt."

Maggie's real tough on the outside, 'cause she likes it that way, but it's obvious how on the inside she been worrying for Beth. Losing family to a gunshot, or a bite, or an unlucky mistake is awful enough, like the massacre at the barn, but to have 'em taken away from you 'cause they wanna be — That's a whole other brand of pain. I know they'd all be devastated if Beth had really died.

"Speaking of Herschel," Lori says, "You think he'd know anything about getting Harley a hearing aid? Types, sizes, things like that?"

"Ended up getting worse, did it?" She hums, even though she already knows, just so she can make a sympathetic face. "Well, I don't think his veterinarian knowledge will shine too bright there, but we had some old family friends who were deaf and hard of hearing." She says this part like Carl did, as if the existence of other deaf people will make me feel better. It don't really. "Picked up a thing or two."

"You wouldn't happen to have any spares left over, would you?"

"Naw," She regrets telling us, "They all lived separate to us."

"Hang on. That works." Jacqui butts in. "You got a whole list of addresses Rick and Daryl can hit for a hearing aid."

Oh, she's right. Search wouldn't be so blind that way. It's a strong start, and Rick and Dad have proven a strong start's all they need.

"Yeah. Suppose we do." I'm sure it ain't feel the best, having your old friends' houses looted, especially knowing the reasons they wouldn't exactly need their belongings anymore, but that don't stop her from giving us her blessing. "When they're back, I'll write 'em down for you."

"That would be an incredible help." Lori smiles, reaching out to cup her shoulder. "Our group would appreciate it very much."

"Told y'all," She drawls with her own weaker smile, grabbing her hand, squeezing it. "Ain't no trouble. Your problems are our problems."

It's starting to feel more like there ain't two groups on this farm, just one bigger, stronger one. I think if anybody were to look in on us without knowing who we are, they'd have a great deal of trouble tryna figure out who belongs to which side. I like that.

She gives her a grateful look before pulling away, nodding lightly. "The same goes for you."

"Thanks, Maggie." I mutter shyly, forcing myself to at least say that.

"Wouldn't just leave you hangin' like that." She tells me. "If you need a hearing aid and we can help you get one, it's as simple as that."

"Hey, I just had a thought. Do I have to learn sign language?"

Walking down the pebbled path with Carl in the late morning, lugging heavy buckets of water, I send him a deadpan look.

"English is hard enough, y'know." He says with a grunt. "But if that's gonna be your language, I'll learn."

When we reach the gate to the cow paddock, I toe the peg off the ground and push it open. "How 'boutchu just stop talkin' altogether?"

"Eugh. No." He cringes, following me through. The gate clicks shut behind us. "That sounds awful."

We make our way through the wispy, dry grass, trying our best not to spill too much water along the way. It ain't like we can't get more — The well on this side of the farm is conveniently walker-free — but we promised Maggie we'd do a good job filling the troughs for her. They're these bathtubs made of metal that cows and sheep like to drink from. They must have real big stomachs to handle all that water.

"You saw Beth, didn't you?" He asks as we haul the buckets onto the ledge, tipping the water in. "She's sad, isn't she?"

"Nah, she's more than sad." I explain. "She's, like, depressed. Doesn't wanna live."

He pulls back with a pout, squinting against the sun. "Doesn't wanna live?"

"Don't wanna live, wants to die. Same thing." I shake the last droplets out. "She's in shock. S'why she cut herself like that."

We fall back into step together, but I almost trip over myself when he comments sadly, "Kinda like you, right?"

"What?" I exclaim, "No. That's stupid."

The herd of black cows start to meander over at the sight of fresh water, the deep honk of their moooos carrying on the breeze.

"It's not stupid." He counters rather weakly. "Since Shane and Sophia died, you've been more than sad, too."

Just like his Dad, Carl pays more attention than I thought he did. I huff, "Well, ain't everyone?"

"I guess." He holds off on blurting his next thought, until he just can't hold it in anymore. "You're not gonna do what Beth did, right? Because that's what would make me sad. You're my best friend. Even if you were only in second grade. I-I won't have anyone to push on the swing, otherwise. I won't learn any new facts about mushrooms. I'd rather read you my comic a hundred more times than seeing you do that."

I stare at my boots as they scuff the dirt, step, step, step, so I don't gotta look at his round, freckled face.

"Mom and Dad say I have to be nice to you. But if I need to slap you to get those thoughts out your head," He warns, "I'll do it."

That makes me snap my head up. He puffs out his chest a little, juts his chin out. He don't look like the slapping sort at all.

That's an honest to god chuckle coming out my mouth. A soft, fond one. "You don't gotta hit me, Carl. I swear it."

As we come to a stop in front of the crumbling well, he tests out the feel of my answer in his head before nodding. "Good."

"And me, I'll hit ya, anyway." I joke, giving him a shove. "So hurry up and fill yer bucket, 'fore my hand slips and catches yer cheek."

His mouth lifts into a tiny smile. I don't got a real good way of saying it, but I'm lucky to have a boy like him as my best friend. I wouldn't lie to him like that. We lost Sophia already. Another grave would break him. It'd break everyone. My Dad would wanna stop living, too. Much as I can't handle the constant blows life keeps sending us, I can't handle that, neither. So, no. I won't do what Beth did, even if I really want to.

We make the back-and-forth trip from the trough to the well a handful more times before they're filled all the way up.

Before we leave, we give the cows some friendly scritches on their huffing snouts. They seem happy with their simple lot in life.

On the way back up the hill, we pass the oak tree again. Really, it's a graveyard, but I like calling it the oak tree better 'cause it don't feel so terrible to say. But in the end, it don't matter. It feels terrible anyway, 'cause there's Carol kneeling in front of the white roses, sniffling into her hands. Me and Carl share a look. She hasn't left the RV in days. I ain't sure what she does in there, but I imagine it looks a lot like this, shedding misery all over herself. I guess she decided to finally visit her daughter's grave. I bet she ain't even believed it was real 'til now.

I grab Carl's hand to tug him along so we can leave her be, but she's heard our footsteps. She looks up at us.

"You know," She croaks, sounding like she ain't slept for days, neither, "We'll see Sophia in heaven someday. She's in a better place now."

His fingers coil tighter around mine. We both know Sophia's actually just in that hole, which ain't a better place than anywhere.

"Heaven's just another lie." He blurts. My eyes go wide. You ain't meant to say that part aloud. "And if you believe it, you're an idiot."

I yank on him again, giving him a stern look, but he ain't budging, and Carol already heard him loud and clear anyway.

"That's a very nasty thing to say." She scolds him tearily, before standing and hurrying away.

As soon as she's out of earshot, I turn on Carl with my bucket reared back and smack him with it, but he dodges and I smack him again and he dodges, and the scuffle goes on like that for about a full minute. "You damn moron, why'd you go and tell her that? Now I'll really hit ya!"

"Well, it's true, isn't it?" He bickers, tryna steal the bucket off me. "No such thing as heaven. You die, you rot in the ground, and that's it."

He quickly side-steps another swing, so I just throw it at him and it clatters at his feet. "But you don't go tellin' people that!"

"I'll tell my Dad you threw a bucket at me!"

"I'll tell my Dad you're a stinkin' jerk-face!"

"That's a swear word!" He annoyingly quips, before taking off in a sprint up the path to escape me.

I snatch up my bucket and set off after him. "Hey! Get back here!"

I sure got a big mouth and a meaner streak than any other kid I ever met, but even I wouldn't've said that to Carol. Believing in heaven ain't gonna get nobody killed, so I say let her be an idiot in peace. All he managed to do was make her sadder than she already was.

I'm much faster than him so I'm about to grab the back of his shirt when Lori quickly steps in.

"Hey, hey, hey." She grabs my wrist and pulls me back from him. "Stop it. Both of you, this is ridiculous."

Before she's even finished speaking, Carl gets his defence in. "Mom, Harley threw a bucket at me."

As I roll my eyes and shake Lori offa me, she raises her brows. "Well, Carl, from what I heard from Carol, you might've deserved that."

"You can't go around willy nilly, calling people names." Carol tells him, her mouth a thin line on her tear-streaked face. "It's not right."

"Think about it. We've all gone through a big loss recently, and Carol doesn't need this right now. It doesn't matter if our beliefs—"

"But you know she's—"

She shushes him. "Don't talk. Just think. It's a good rule of thumb for life. Now you're gonna apologize to her, okay?"

I try not to get a little kick outta watching him begrudgingly recite, "I'm sorry I called you an idiot for believing in heaven."

No you ain't, I feel like saying just to annoy him, but I hold my tongue in case that gets me in trouble, too.

"Thank you." Carol accepts his apology 'cause it's the good thing to do. "I just hope you'll learn some manners from this."

Right as he's about to turn back into sassy Carl, Lori talks over him with a simple, "He will. And Harley, you think about your manners, too."

Oh, come on. "I only hit him 'cause he was bein' bad!"

"That's the problem, honey." She mutters awkwardly. Oh, right. That sort of punishment is bad. I forgot, but I don't even know why. "I'll have to talk to your Dad about that... In the meantime, you guys gonna get along or do we have to sort something out here?"

We mull over whether or not we wanna keep fighting, but we're the only kids here and we're best friends, so the choice is already settled.

She takes our silence as a positive. "Good. Now, go play nicely for a while. Shouldn't be long before the others get back."

Carol follows after her, much to my satisfaction, to go sit at the picnic table together, and not to slink back into the RV. I hope I'll see her around more often now, for her sake. Ain't good to be cooped up like that. Rick said that once.

Stuck with Carl again, I wordlessly drop my bucket in the dirt and sit against the fence. He could go play on his own, read a comic or somethin', but instead he follows suit and settles at my side, a non-annoying distance between us.

He quietly suggests, "You wanna bet a cookie on how long it's gonna take for 'em to get back?"

And of course, I say yes.

Carl's fallen asleep on my shoulder by the time the cars appear at the end of the driveway. I shake him awake, ignoring his blubbering, what, what is it. I get up and go running down the hill to greet them. It took them about an hour to get back. That means I earnt myself a cookie. There's Herschel, sitting in the passenger seat of Rick's car, by the looks of it, totally alive. Dad's truck lurches to a stop nearby. He hops out, and as I clock the brooding look on his face, I realize I got more than just a cookie to be worried about. 

"Daddy, what's wrong?" I ask cluelessly, a little sad I didn't get the chance to hug him. "You ain't hurt, is you?"

Carl jogs up to my side. A few others gather around as Dad yanks the back door open and, holy shit, hauls a full-grown man out by the elbows, throwing him into the grass. We both jump back as if the stranger's diseased. What in the Hell?

As Rick comes around the car with a coil of rope slung over his shoulder, Lori exclaims, "Who the Hell is that?"

The door slams. The man groans in pain as he's forced to his feet by both men.

Ain't no friend of ours, I got that much figured out. He got a bag over his head and two vague pits for eyes, skinny torso, a bloody leg. 

"Oh, fuck," He panics as they drag him like a sack of bricks through the crowd. "Oh, fuck, please, no."

Rick simply grunts, "Welcome back, Jim." 

My jaw drops. This crippled man, it's Jim. They found him. Or they ran into him. Or they—? Did they capture him? As Glenn guides Herschel outta the car and Maggie rushes over to them, I stay with everyone else, tailing Rick and Dad and Jim, 'cause yeah, that's really him. Those are his lanky limbs and that's his dark arm hair and his broken wrist-watch right where it always was. I weren't expecting this at all.

"What's going on?" Dale demands to know. Exactly what I'm thinking. "What on Earth are you—?"

"Please," Jim begs. "My leg — It- It needs surgery. The tendon, it's fucked— I can't—"

"Ran into some fellers in town." He gruffly explains. "He was runnin' with 'em. Got his leg daggered on a fence."

"Running with them?" T-Dog gapes in confusion. "Wasn't he shacked up in some dingy little tent, last we knew of him?"

"Please, my leg— My le-leg, it hurts so bad—"

"He got a story to tell, alright," Dad growls, taunting him through the fabric, "But man ain't so loose-lipped as he used to be, is he?"

"Man, I duh— I don't even remember saying those things about your kid," He whines, "I swear. That was so long ago now."

"You got nun' to swear on, ya useless shit. You keep talkin', you won't even have yer life to swear on, ya hear me?"

"Oh, fuck," He goes back to chanting, "Oh, fuck, please, no."

Dale scoffs, "So, what, he's back with the gang, now, Rick? This is insanity!"

"We keep him in the shed 'til he talks." Is all he offers as explanation. Lori grabs me and Carl by the shoulders and pulls us back, away from the struggle of limbs and blood, as Dad kicks the shed doors open. They're gonna lock him in there, like a prisoner.

They muscle him inside. We keep hearing cries of, you assholes, I need surgery, as they tie him to a post with the rope.

"Shut up!" Dad snarls, forcing him down. "You ain't worth a damn q-tip right now, let alone surgery!"

"Ran into some fellers?" Jacqui repeats with uncertainty to Lori, who's got no clue what it means. "I thought it was just us around here."

I did, too. Us, cows, sheep, and the sky. But there's fellers out there too, now. I don't think anybody likes the sound of that.

"No, please! Please!" Kicking and thrashing, like that day in the parking lot again. "I'm gonna bleed out before I can tell you anything!"

Rick retorts with one last brutal tug to the rope, "You best start gettin' your story straight, then."

"No, you fuh— you fucking assholes! You can't do this! It's inhumane!"

The doors close on him without mercy, sealing him inside the stuffy darkness.

"He's right, Rick." Dale argues, trying and failing to get a good look at his sweaty, blood-speckled face as he braces the doors with more rope. He got that spooked predator feel about him that I only ever saw on him once or twice before. "He needs medical attention, and now."

"Herschel repaired his calf muscle last night." He shakes his head, turning to face the group. "Pain's only gonna help him talk."

I break away from Lori and wrap my arms around Dad's waist, burying my face against his ribs. He instinctually cradles my head.

"Listen." Rick holds a hand out in front of him, his gaze dark and feral, chest heaving. "For the safety of everybody here, I've decided this is what has to happen. I'm not taking chances anymore. We found Herschel in town, holed up in that bar just like Maggie said, but we weren't the only ones. Couple'a big-mouthed tough guys got in the way and I dealt with 'em. They was with a bigger group, and we picked up Jim on our way out. Camped in the woods for the night. So far, he's told us a whole load of nothin' about these folks."

"What do they want?" Andrea asks, lookin' ready to go hunt them down right here and now.

"What we have." He answers with a shrug. "Source of food, water, stability. It's gotten bad in town. Nothin' left but walkers and rats."

I glance up at Dad through my screwed brows, 'cause bad folk steal what they want from the people who got it, and that's scary. I don't want those men to take our fresh cheese and bread, our swing, our wells. He gives me a strong look, soothing his hands through my hair.

"It ain't like they know where we are." He reassures us all. "I doubt they're gonna be ridin' down here like Jesse James."

"Not yet," Dale scoffs, unamused. "How long until they do?"

 Jacqui adds, "We got that horde to think about, too, don't we?"

"I am figurin' it out." Rick scolds loudly, scaring everyone into silence. "Christ's sake, I killed my best friend yesterday. I am trying."

There's nothing to argue against that with. Trying is all Rick Grimes does. He does it for us. Nobody can fault him for that.

"But, Rick," Lori apprehensively mutters, as if he hasn't quite thought it through yet, "There's a dying man in that shed."

"I know that, Lori." He quips a little harshly. "Of course I know that. You think I'm enjoyin' this?"

"We should at least start considering what his future is gonna look like." Dale suggests.

"Yeah, man." T-Dog agrees. "I mean, he talks. What then? What's the plan?"

"The plan is he talks and then I kill him."

When Rick says this, I feel like I'm looking at someone who looks an awful lot like the Rick Grimes I care about, but ain't actually him. That's how I'd expect someone to announce they're going on a supply run or taking next shift for watch, not that they're gonna end someone's life. Maybe Maggie was right about him being changed after murdering Shane, because I ain't never heard him talk like this before.

Another murder. My second one. Shane first, now Jim. I'm going to be ready for this one. I'll be strong.

"You can't." Dale lies. We all know it only takes a bullet, and we got plenty of those. "You can't, Rick."

"I don't recall asking for any feedback." He sounds tired. "There is no discussion on this. Not this time. He talks and then I kill him."

As he walks off, the group share startled, disturbed looks, because nobody's okay with this, right? Nobody's actually letting this happen? But the fact is anything Rick says is gonna happen is gonna happen, 'cause Shane's dead and we need a leader, and without anybody really hashing it out or realizing how it turned out this way, seems like that's gonna be Rick from now on. He's doing this to protect the people he loves, same reason he killed Shane, same reason he does everything. It's like Jacqui says. This is what goodness looks like now.

Dale goes running after him, probably to waste his breath some more convincing him to change his mind.

With Rick gone, the next person everybody looks to for guidance is my Dad.

"I'm with Grimes." He warns before they can hassle him. "I wanted that skinny bastard dead the day we left the quarry, y'all know that."

Rubbing at the fine wrinkles on her forehead, Lori sighs, "I don't like this."

"Can't we just take him out to the main road once we're done with him, give him a canteen, send him on his way?"

"Nah, we've done all that before." He frowns. "And his new boys, he'll go crawlin' back to 'em, tell 'em things we'on want 'em knowing."

"Man, this is fucked." T-Dog tsks, turning away.

Dad retorts, "Yeah, what else is new?"

"Look, there's nothing we can do. Did anybody really like Jim, anyway?" Andrea levels in that blunt way she got. "No. So, I say fuck him. The guy's good as dead anyway. It's clear where his loyalties lie, and it sure isn't with us. Now, who's gonna stand watch?"

"I will." Dad answers. "Gimme 'bout ten minutes, I'll take up watch. T can take graveyard."

"Maggie has a plan for that hearing aid, Daryl." Lori says as heads up. "You might wanna go check that out when you can."

He nods in thanks, reminding Andrea not let anyone near the shed, before grabbing my hand and walking over to the house with me. I glance over my shoulder at her, arms crossed over her chest, holster back-lit by the midday sun. She'll be good at ignoring Jim's pleading.

As I turn back around, Dad asks, "How ya been while I was out, chicken?"

"Fine. Helped cook. Did chores." That's not what's on my mind, though, or on his. "Jim gon' die, ain't he?"

"Yeah," He tells me straight. He don't add much else, 'cause there ain't really anything else to add. "He's gonna die."

Unlike some of the others, I know I can't stop it. I couldn't stop the bullet that killed Shane, so why would I be able to stop this one?

People who don't fit in right, people who put us in danger, they get killed. Jim got a whole new group. They ain't lookin' to be our friends. That's danger. Sum' I learnt from all this is that you're better killin' off the problem before you get hurt by it. It's what we do with vermin, like rabbits and bugs. Maybe that's a morbid thing to say. I know Dale would think so. Jim's just a normal man, dyin' in a shed. He ain't killed nobody. But neither did Shane, and look at all the damage he done anyway. Maybe if we killed him to start with, it wouldn't've been so cruel.

"Alright." I settle on. I wouldn't stop it, even if I could. I said I weren't gonna be stupid ever again. So I say fuck him, too.

Dad glances at me. He knows this is how it's gotta be, so that's where the conversation ends.

We step up to where Glenn, Maggie, and Herschel are standing together at the bottom of the porch steps. He looks a little shaken up, his shirt grimy and his suspenders wonky, but he's still standing, which is all that matters. It could'a gone a lot worse for him.

"Bethy's gonna be fine, Dad." She says sweetly. When she notices us, she smiles. "Hey. Thanks for your help, Daryl."

Dad gives a little shrug, 'cause he never liked thanks. "Don't worry 'bout it."

It's clear how much Herschel is loved by his family. I wish my Grandpappy Dixon could'a been a little more like him.

"But I heard from one'a the women you got somethin' for me about a hearin' aid?"

"Oh, right." Her mood dampens a little at the mention of it, but she knows he means no harm. "We were talkin' about it earlier. I offered to give y'all the addresses of some people we knew who might have what you're lookin' for. None of 'em are too far from here."

"That's good of ya." He nods, grateful. "We got our hands full with that shit-sack Davison, but we'll find the time."

Glenn frowns in confusion. "Wait, what's all this about? A hearing aid?"

"It's for Harley." He explains and looks down at me, squeezing my hand. "That gunshot messed her hearin' up pretty good."

"Oh, man. That's unlucky." He gives me that soft, mushy look everybody been giving me. "So you're, like, deaf in that ear?"

"Yeah." I murmur, nervously tugging on the nub under my hair. "And half-deaf in the other'un."

He looks at Dad. "Let me know if you need any help searching, man. Anything I can do to help."

"I'on know if Rick's gonna be up for it way things are, but I'll head out sometime tomorrow if I can. Won't fuss if you wanna join."

"And that business with your friend there in the shed," Herschel says, "Whatever you do with him, please just keep it to yourselves."

"Well, we weren't plannin' on a public execution." Dad shrugs. "Rick'll wanna do it in the barn, I reckon. Y'all won't see nothin'."

"Good." He sighs, even though none of this is good. "I'm not saying I like it, but I know better than to impede on your... politics."

"That what it's called, huh?" He murmurs sardonically.

"C'mon. Let's get you inside now." Maggie gently guides him away. "Thank y'all both again. I'll get that list to you when you need it."

As they climb the porch steps together, Dad gives me a kiss on my forehead and tells me he's gotta go guard the shed now, handing me off to Glenn to walk me back to main camp. Because I guess they don't want me impeding on the politics, neither.

Dad's not actually on watch. I get that now. I watch the little shed sit there in the distance. There's nobody standin' outside the doors, and they wouldn't just leave Jim unattended like that. So that would only mean that he's inside the shed, doing what people do when they're tryna make someone talk. I can't see through any of the boarded-up windows or the little loft space that looks in, but I don't need to.

Jim don't deserve this, but I think we're a little past getting what we deserve. It ain't my fault he's suffering.

Shane's bones are breaking again. I'm half deaf, but I hear them just fine, and the blood, the cries, the smack of fist on muscle. I thread my fingers through my hair, grip and twist and pull on it, like the memories are in the roots and I can rip them out and throw them away and be done with them, but I can't, so I just drag my hands down my face and throw my head back against the tree I'm sitting under. On the other side of the leaves, the white ball of the sun shining down. I take a few deep breaths. In and out, nice and slow, like Dad showed me.

We been through so much. Escaped and killed and hurt so much, just so we can live. If Jim were to ruin that, or his fellers were to ruin that, I would wanna beat his face in, too, 'til it was just a piece of meat balanced on a neck. That, he would deserve.

It's as I'm staring at the clouds floating across the sky, that the brim of a cowboy hat enters my vision.

I know it's Carl before I look at who it belongs to. He says something I can't hear, holding out a granola cookie to me. I assume that's the cookie he owes me from the bet, and that he's telling me I can have it, so I take it from him. He settles down to my right.

"I tried to get one without raisins," He says apologetically, voice clearer now. "But Glenn kinda ate them all already."

"'Course he did." I take a big bite. "It don't matter. I like raisins anyway."

He pulls a bit of a face, because nobody likes raisins. "I'm just gonna forget you said that."

We fall into silence after that. There's nothing to talk about except the hostage in the shed and the fact his Dad is gonna kill him soon, and maybe raisins, but nobody likes talking about raisins. You know, there's lots of different types of killing. There's mercy killing, which is what the vet did to Tank. It's what Dad does to any deer we find half-dead on hunting trips, or ones suffering on the side of the road after they weren't ran over all the way. Then there's self-defence killing. That's for walkers, and people that wanna kill you. There's killing for food. We do that all the time. And then there's murder, which is almost the same, but feels a whole lot different.

"How do you think they're gonna do it?" Carl suddenly asks, his tone dull, neither here nor there.

I pause. It. Killing Jim. I don't know how they're gonna do it, but Dad says it'll be in the barn. They got ropes and rafters in there.

"Maybe hang him." I guess, but that don't feel right. "Prolly just cap him in the head, though."

"Is that what they did to Shane?"

Bones breaking. Fist on muscle. A spike of blood. I shake my head with a simple, murmured, "No."

He knows better than to start guessing what did happen. "Well... How'd your Dad kill Ronnie?"

Huh? "How you hear about that?"

He shrugs one shoulder. "Heard Maggie talking to my Dad about it."

I didn't think anybody else knew about Ronnie. I've always been told it's a bit of a taboo story, and I shouldn't talk to Meemaw or any kids at school about it. But if anyone had a problem with mine and Dad's past, I would'a known about it by now.

"That was my Dad and Merle." I confess, after deciding I can answer this question. "They didn't shoot him. They chased him into the woods and beat him so bad he ended up dyin'. Then Merle ran away for a bit and Dad went to prison."

"Guess both our Dads are murderers." A sentence I've never heard before. "Do you ever wish you were more like him?"

"Nah. I couldn't get any more like my Daddy if I tried." I'm my Daddy's girl. I'm just cursed that way. I got his little moles and his nasty glare, his dirt blonde hair and his short temper. I got all his good parts and all his bad, painful, thrown-away parts running through me, and I poke my tongue out when I skin animals, and I hurt the people I love. I guess the only gene I'm missing is the one that lets him lock it all away. I ain't strong like that, but I don't wanna admit that to Carl, or to anybody. I don't wanna admit I'm weak. "What... What about you?"

Carl's got his Dad's blue eyes and his goodness. Oh and of course, his hat.

He considers the question for a long time. "I'm not a very good protector. I've never killed anything."

"Well, you ain't got a gun, do ya?" I try joke, swallowing the last bite of cookie. "How you meant to protect anybody?"

It don't make him laugh. "Be serious."

"Carl," I say a little frustratedly, "I've killed two walkers and watched a man die by now, and I can tell you it don't make you any tougher."

I don't know why he can't see that, especially with his parents arguing over by the fence the way they are, getting louder by the minute.

"Kinda just messes things up." I mutter. "It's horseshit, like Maggie says."

I watch Rick pinch the bridge of his nose as Lori shouts at him.

"You know what," Carl cringes, "Maybe you're right."

"Do you think they're arguin' about Jim?"

We both know they are. "Yeah."

I like Lori. She doesn't laugh at me when I can't spell something right. But if I were Rick right now, I'd bust a damn gasket and scream somethin' like, leave me alone, woman! Because the last thing I'd want is somebody badgering me on this. He said it himself. He doesn't want to kill Jim, but he doesn't have any other choice if he wants to keep us safe. He's stressed enough without this nonsense.

Instead of that, though, Rick exclaims something totally different, just loud enough for me to hear.

"You're pregnant?"

Oh, Lordy. She told him?!

Carl whirls on me like this was my doing. "Did he just say pregnant?!"

I don't get time to reply before he gets up and runs over to them, calling out excitedly. I knew he'd be happy. But I don't know so much about Rick. He threads his fingers in his hair, taking a step back. The look on his face is the same one Dale used to get when the RV suddenly started making a strange noise and he had to figure out how to fix it. I don't even think Lori meant to tell him. She just blurted it out.

"Cat's out the bag, I guess." Glenn muses lightly from nearby, as Carl wraps his arms around his Momma's belly.

She seems a little shocked, too, but she still returns the hug and kisses his fluffy hair.

I can't hear them anymore, so I walk over to Glenn and ask him eagerly, "What're they sayin'?"

"He's asking if it's a boy or a girl," He relays to me, "But they won't be able to tell until the baby's born."

"When's that happen?"

Carol approaches us with a fun little smirk. She must've overheard as well. "In about nine months, if everything goes right."

That's almost a year. Where are we gonna be a year from now? A lot can happen in one month, let alone nine. Will there still be eleven of us, or will there be less? We gonna make it to twelve? I'm not sure how having a baby at the end of the world works. I think ya need lots of medicine and a little beanie to put on their head, but we don't have those things. We only have each other, a vet, and some aspirin.

Lori and Carl walk back into camp together. He's smiling like he's swallowed the sun.

"I'm gonna be a big brother." He exclaims, as Carol gives Lori a supportive hug. "Pretty cool, huh?"

"Pretty cool." I agree, but I can't help glancing over his shoulder at Rick, who's slumped against the fence, head in his hands.

"You heard? God. I don't want this to be made a big deal out of." Lori mutters to her. "It's not good for anybody."

"Don't be silly. I think we could all do with a little hope around here. What's more hopeful than a baby?"

"I'm talking about..." She whispers this next part.

Carol smiles sadly when she pulls back. "Don't worry about that. He's out of the picture, now. Just focus on Rick."

"Hey, if the baby's a girl," Carl suggests, "Can we name her Sophia?"

"I think that would be lovely," Lori says very earnestly, looking to Carol, who seems to also like that idea. "Guess we'll have to see."

The two of them get sucked into conversation with Glenn after that, and it looks pretty serious, so me and Carl are left on our own again. He continues babbling about the baby, and I try my best to listen, but I'm distracted thinking about how Glenn's no longer keeping an eye on us like he's meant to, and Dale's facing the opposite direction on watch. We could sneak off to the shed without anyone noticing.

"And if it's a boy, we can name him Nate. You know, like Captain Nate and the Awesome Eight. The comic I read you, remember?"

I don't know what's gotten into me, but I ask him with no warning, "Wanna sneak into the shed?"

His grin fades, until there's nothing but apprehension on his face. "But we're not allowed. I thought you said you hated getting in trouble."

"I thought you said you wanted to be tough like your Dad," I retort. I do hate getting in trouble, but I wanna get inside that shed a whole lot more. I wanna see what Dad's done to Jim, see what happens to people that put us in danger. "Come on. Nobody will see us."

"I don't know, Harley." He mumbles. I never thought I'd be the one coercing him into mischief. "It might not be safe."

"Safe? When since do you care about being safe?"

He hesitates to answer. "It's just, I'm supposed to look out for you. And I'm gonna be a big brother soon, so I gotta learn how."

"I ain't your practice-sister." I scoff, feeling a little offended. "I don't need no big brother to take care of me. I taught you to shoot."

"I just wanna keep you safe like the adults do." He says more sternly now, like I'm being unfair. "Like my Dad does."

"Well, I wanna go smack the shit outta Jim," I sass, "Like my Dad does."

With that, I turn on my heel, making a beeline for the shed. It don't even take him five seconds to give in and follow after me.

"No, no, Daryl, c'mon, man, please. We used to be on the same side. You don't have to do this."

"How many in yer group, huh? I said, How many?!"

Whack!

I pull Carl with me around the corner of the shed, ducking down into the grass, holding a finger to my lips. On the other side of the wall, Jim groans. It sounds blubbered, as if his gums are swollen and his lips are fallen off. I peek through a tiny hole in the wood.

"Thuh— Th- Thirty." He answers breathily. It's dark in there, but I can make out both their figures. "Thirty. Thirty guys."

"Where?" He growls, pacing around in the shadows. "Where they camped?"

"Why— Why the fuck would I tell you, huh?" He sniffles wetly, but it's not snot. "I'm dead, anyway, man! Fuck the whole lot of ya!"

"You wanna put this whole farm in danger, is that whatcher sayin'? You're a smart-mouthed piece'a shit?"

"You're the ones who left me!" He shouts, kicking and pulling and wriggling against the rope like a feral creature itching for a fight. He's never gotten along with our group. Given the chance, I know he'd throttle any one of us. "Maybe I should want you to pay!"

"The feeling's mutual." He snarls. There's a little, wait, no, before he rears his fist back in the air, and then a disgusting cracking sound as it comes down on his cheekbone. Carl whispers in my good ear, what do you see, but I don't answer him. I watch as Dad crouches, his face mere inches from the bruised mess that's meant to be Jim's, staring him down like if he does it hard enough, he can kill him just like that. "I'm only gonna tell you this once." He warns, his voice a rumble. "My little girl is on this farm. If you breathe the wrong way. If you make a funny look I don't like. If you take too long answerin' me 'cause you're chokin' on yer own blood, and that puts her at risk..."

Jim's bloodied neck bobs under a heavy gulp, his chest shivering with shallow puffs.

"I will kill you so slow... you'll be beggin' to eat a bullet." That's far from an empty threat and he knows it. "You understand me?"

"Yeah. Yes. Yes." He nods. "I'm not tryna be smart. I'll— I'll talk."

"Let's try this again, huh?"

"They move around." He confesses. "They never stay anywhere more than a couple nights. That's all I know, but they got guns. Heavy stuff, like automatics. I used to clean them. That's why they let me stay, after they found me camping in the woods. I went with them b-because they had food, but that's all gone, now. They're branching out. I swear I had nothing to do with the other stuff. I swear."

"You just happened to be there last night, is that it? Tryna tell me you're innocent?"

"I've always been innocent."

Liar. I remember him snarking to my Dad that the trip out the quarry to save my life wasn't worth it, that it was a waste of our gas.

"If you're memory's that bad, buddy, I can crack yer head open and we can sort through yer brains together, how's that sound?"

"Like a f-fucking nightmare." He slurs. "Always is with you."

Dad's about to break his other cheekbone in when Andrea calls out his name. I pull away from the peephole just as he turns around, my heart racing as the creak of the old doors come, then their voices. I can't make any of it out like I would'a been able to before my hearing went to shit, which makes me a little jealous of Carl, but I can tell the point at which one of them walks away 'cause there's silence.

With the shed quiet and empty, Carl points above my head. "We can get in that way."

The loft. It hangs over a pile of rotten wood laying in the overgrown weeds. It doesn't look like an impossible distance to climb, so I give him a nod. He follows me out, warning me to, be careful of splinters, which almost makes me roll my eyes because he really does think he's a mini grown-up now. I ignore him and hop onto the planks. He jumps up onto the loft first and then rolls onto his tummy and pulls me up after him. He asks me if I'm alright, which of course I am, so I duck through the opening and climb down the ladder.

My boots hit the straw, then his. I can't believe we're really in here. This is way worse than sneaking into the woods.

"Who's—? Who's there?" Jim startles, peering at us through his puffy eyelids.

I step into the single beam of sunlight shining down on the dirty floor, and only then his face morphs with recognition. I stare him down. He looks exactly the same as he did at the quarry, but scruffier, angrier, splattered with blood. It's what I must look like, too.

He actually starts laughing, an empty laugh. "Harley Dixon... My fucking luck."

"Be careful." Carl mutters from behind me.

The laughter catches in this throat, a phlegm-y knot that he spits on the floor. "He's right, kid. Your Daddy thinks I'm dangerous."

"I ain't afraid of you," I take great satisfaction in telling him. I've never been able to say that to anybody before. I been scared of Merle, been scared of Grandpappy Dixon, scared of Shane. But I out-lived all of them, and I'll out-live Jim, too. "You're nothin'."

"I thought you died on the road, you know. They always do." A grin creeps onto his lips. "But not you, huh?"

Not me. I been scratched, trapped in a horde, chased, lost, stabbed, taken and shot at, but no. "Not me."

"I'll be dead soon." He lilts uncaringly. "I'm not gonna beg. No you. Not anyone. I know it's coming. Your Dad, Rick, or... Even my own leg. Something's gonna kill me, and I'm not gonna fight it." As he speaks, his head lolls to the side and he gazes out at nothing. "You can't. Can't fight gravity, can't fight nature. Can't fight death. I tried, though. All of it, I tried, and here I am. Pissin' blood in a shed, waitin' to die."

"I ain't never cared for no sob story." I scowl, moving into his line of sight, crouching down. "'Specially not yours."

He glares at me through his dark brows. "You're a little s-shit-stain, aren't you, just like your old man."

"None of us ever liked you, neither."

"Whatever happens after I'm gone," He sneers, breathing heavily, so heavily I can feel it huffing and puffing on my forearms, "You're all gonna deserve. F-for being so cocky. Thinkin' you're better than everyone else, thinkin' you can cheat death. For leaving me."

"Whatever happens after you're gone," I retort just as angrily, "We sure ain't gonna spend it missin' you."

He bares his teeth, straining against his bindings to get in my face, but I remain stony, like Dad would. "You— You should've never made it out that quarry." He rages under his breath, "They can give you all the— all the hugs and kisses in the world, but when they tell you everything's okay, they'll still be lying. It's what I told my wife and my two boys a hundred times, but it didn't matter."

The louder he hisses the words at me, the wetter his eyes get.

"They came out of nowhere. Dozens... and dozens. Pulled them right out my hands." His voice cracks. "The only reason I got away was because the dead were too busy eating my family. I was meant to die with them. I was. And you— you're just a little kid. You should've died to those scratches. You're supposed to be dead. All of you. You're all supposed to be dead."

Before I can stop myself, smack!

"You don't get to say that." I scold him, shaking out my stinging palm. "Only dead one 'round here is you."

He groans. "Shuh— S-sure."

The doors swing open. Andrea comes in, shock across her face as she realizes what's going on. She snatches mine and Carl's hands in her own and drags us out.  We stumble as she throws us ahead, shouting something at Jim before slamming the doors shut again.

"What the Hell were you two doing in there?" She asks incredulously as she picks up the rope and re-binds the handles.

"Please don't tell our parents." Carl immediately begs.

Too angry to speak, I take myself over to the swing and plop down on it, rubbing at my red palm. I slapped Jim pretty good. If only we didn't get caught, I could'a done a whole lot worse to him, maybe even broken in his other cheek. He's a bastard for sayin' those things. We had our reasons for casting him out, and he sure as shit ain't bothered figuring out what they were. He's still as smart-mouthed as ever. I ain't even feel bad his wife and kids got eaten, 'cause that's just what happens now. He ain't special for letting it drive him mad.

"Listen, buddy," She scoffs as she turns around, putting her hands on her hips. "I won't, but that was plain stupid."

"We were only talking to him." He argues innocently. "We didn't do anything."

She raises a brow. "Oh, yeah? What was that slap sound, then?"

"It was me." I admit with a bitter tone, dramatically dropping my hands in my lap. "I cracked him for bein' smart."

"I wouldn't expect anything less from you." She chuckles, seeming annoyed and amused at the same time. "You wanna die? Is that it?"

I frown deeply. Like I said, blunt. She's the only person outside my family who's ever given me a run for my money on that front. "Maybe I do," I sass her. "Maybe beatin' on somebody makes me feel a little better. You got a problem with that?"

"Not at all." She surprises me by shrugging. "I get it. But really, guys? Jim?"

"You want me to hit you instead, then?"

"God," She laughs. "Maybe if Beth had half the fire you got in you, she'd actually be worth something."

"Hell's that mean?"

"Means if you asked me for a knife like she did, I wouldn't bother giving you one. You'd find a way."

"Give her a knife?" Carl pulls a stank-face at her. "That was you?"

"She didn't have the guts to do it herself." She explains. "So I gave her the push she needed."

"Why would you do that?" He sounds betrayed when he says this, turning and taking my hand. "Come on, Harley. Let's go, now."

He pulls me off the swing and leads me away, a grumpy look on his face.

"Screw her." He exclaims. "Don't talk to her ever again. She's crazy."

"Sure thing," I murmur, too busy thinking about how I can sneak back in the shed again soon to sound all too convincing.

That afternoon, I relish in the gentle sounds of rustling leaves and little squirrels and birds chittering throughout the forest, the crisp breeze blowing through my hair. I've never really liked the cold all that much, but this is good. I remember when I was just a tot, around the first time I ever saw snow, I tugged on Daddy's sleeve and asked him, when we goin' huntin' today, but all he said was, can't, baby, all the game's hidin' away in holes. I was a little confused on that for a while. Couldn't the animals just put a coat and hat on like the rest of us? That was back when I thought the whole world was like it was in the cartoons. I learnt fast that it weren't.

"Heard you was beatin' on Carl today." Dad casually hums. I follow him along the trail, keeping an eye out for paw prints or broken twigs. September's almost over now, if it ever even was September, and Winter's on its way. Nature's one of the only things ain't changed, and I know the slim chances of finding game ain't changed neither, and so does Dad, but I think he don't care. "You wanna talk about it?"

He just wants away from the farm for a while, time where it's just the two of us. Even if we ain't catch nothing in the end.

"He was bein' a jerk to Carol." I explain, and that's putting it lightly. "So's I whooped him."

Surely Dad won't care like Lori does. He was the one that taught me to whoop stupid boys in the first place.

"Baby," He seems to struggle saying, before coming to a stop, facing me with a funny look. "You can't be doin' that no more."

Oh. He does. But, "I've always done that."

"Yeah, and so've I." He tells me. "I don't gotta tell you twice. Only time my fists ain't been swinging was when I was busy cleanin' the blood off 'em. But like I told you at that pond, I'm puttin' that behind me when it matters, a'right? That lil' scrape wit' Carl, that matters."

Only other punishment I ever got was time out. "You sayin' I should'a put him on a stump, instead?"

"I'm sayin' let his parents put him on a stump, or take his shit away, or whatever it is they wanna do. It ain't on you to dish that out."

"But Grandpappy Dixon and Merle used to beat on me, and they weren't my parents."

"Weren't on them, either." With an angry scoff, he turns back around. I chase after him. "Weren't even on me. Ain't none of us treatchu right."

I guess I should'a thought more wisely about laying into Carl. But I ain't ever practiced. None of my family have. Beat first, think later. Next to, Fuck the cops, that's always been the Dixon motto. But me and Dad, we gotta be different. There's more to us than our anger.

"Well, I'm gon' try treat everybody else right, anyway." I decide. "Next time, I'll just call Carl an idiot and leave it at that."

I hear him chuckle to himself. I guess that means it's a good plan.

It's at this moment that the honking trill of a deer sounds through the trees. Both of us stop dead in our tracks. He reaches for me, takes my wrist, pulls me behind a nearby shrub. I peek over the leaves, swallowing down a gasp. Rats on hats, there she is. A deer, with sweet black eyes like polished glass, and long, beige legs, walking through the underbrush as if she were made of it. I ain't seen a deer in months, not even when the weather was warmer. Guess I thought the dead ones ate 'em all. I almost forgot how magical they are. Merle always teased me for it, but I used to think deer were just unicorns whose horns fell off. I was always a little sad whenever we ate them.

Dad loads a bolt into his crossbow. I can't hear it, but I'm sure it makes the faintest click, because her big ear twitches, but she doesn't bolt. I watch her bow her head, munching on dead grass, as he lines the sight up with her heart.

He never hesitates to down a target, but this time he does. He watches her, too, then lowers the bow altogether.

I whisper to him, "You ain't gonna shoot?"

"Nah," He whispers back, "It's good just like this."

The deer grazes on the forest floor for a few more minutes, until she decides to move on.

After which, we do, too.

Author's Note.

Whew! Hope you enjoyed this one.

We finally ran into Jim again! Lots has changed since he's been with us, including Harley lmao. She's a menace.

Like I said in the last chapter's notes, I've been dealing with some motivation issues and just a creativity slump in general, so working on this chapter was a ride and a half 😩 Thanks for your support and patience as always. Your comments are what fuel me to write when I can't fuel myself 💙

@poetoflawed

[mercysought]

❝ Strange. You and I have never shared more than a few words, and yet I feel like we’re old friends. ❞ / from vince to viv in the early days maysmaps ..... also welcome back omg. i'm literally so happy to see you again AAA

black sails season 2 prompts (accepting)

   “It's part of my charm."

Or so she had been told; then again much was said about Vivian Hinomoto: a dumb idiot. Reckless mouth that should be drinking some bleach to make it clean. She'd also been said to be a fine piece of ass but out of all her assets, Vivian was sure that her iron board frame didn't benefit her ass. Which hey! That's fine, she liked her frame well enough, her ass might be small but it's how you used it y'know?! Small ass, small titties but still out there killing it and how many other people could say the same thing?

Dumb looking bitch with a pretty face but still makin' more eddies than most of these motherfuckers could count. Yeah, she'd cry all the way to the bank.

   “Then again," she pauses turning herself to Vince. If Jackie wasn't so much into workin' the streets he might end up being a good fixer actually. He seemed to have a good eye to not only drag some stays but good ones that could actually not only survive but thrive.

No one could blame her, the number of nomads that make their way to NC and stay alive for a longer period of time without either disappearin' into the grates, killin' someone and endin' up doin' time or just flat out flatlinin' themselves? The figures weren't pretty.

But Vince seemed different, and hell he was fun to be around. And just because of that Viv was keepin' her fingers crossed that he'd make it through.

   “'m also told I'm a snake with a resting bitch face. Apparently, I'm just built like that. So like—" she shrugs, giving him a grin and a snort before turning back to her bike. She inspects the helmet that her brother had given her: a beautiful thing wasp-like and bright yellow.

She flings it on top of the old Mama Wells' couch that they had dragged to Jackie's garage. Jackie himself was sitting there, inspecting his iron and putting in the bullets with a start of a smile "Take your gut feelin' with a massive grain of salt."

[merchantofwhispers]

Cinead how was turning one twin different than the other?

"Well fer' one, Niki wasn't dead when I turned 'em."

"He was a healthy man. Fit and athletic, took t'the blood easy. Low fever, went t'sleep, had a few fits, woke up only two moons later with some aches and pains. If I would'a known his turnin' sleep was the last time he'd ever be tha' goddamn peaceful, I might've been more forceful abou' tellin' Minny no. Trainin' him was a bloody fuckin' nightmare though. Couldn't keep his teeth out of anythin' that moved, took a fancy t'startin' fights every chance he goddamn got. The only credit I'll give that son of a bitch is that he has a mean right hand and managed to best me aboard my own fuckin' ship once."

He sneered before looking back away, furrowed brows stitching together.

"Minny.. Minny was dead. She'd been dyin' from that fuckin' consumption shite. Withered away in m'bed, heard her chest rattlin', watched the life leave her. No doctor I dragged on board, willingly or not, could fuckin' 'elp 'er. Too frail, they called 'er, said 'er body was too weak t'fight it. A beautiful way t'go they said, taken by a plague like tha'." Cinead shook his head and scoffed. "I panicked when she stopped breathin' one mornin'. 'Er heart was slowin', 'er eyes glassy, and so I-.. I just ripped her open and then drowned her in m'blood. Messy affair, but she drank it down I suppose. Took a week for 'er to wake up, 'ad awful fits, fevered and chokin' on 'er own tongue the whole time."

After a moment of recallection he shrugged.

"To frail t'fight the plague, but strong enough t'take on the blood Gods. She flourished with 'er new powers, 'er new life. Struggled a bit with learnin' tha' she couldnt see so good in the day, wasn't fond of not bein' able to eat 'er sweets no more, but-.. She sure was cute learnin' she could jump real high. Fell on 'er ass more than once, loved learnin' she was faster than me, and stronger than half my crew. Was quite the little shit for the first few months there before she got used t'everything. Only real struggle was gettin' 'er t'feed properly. Niki took to killin' easy, but Minny.. Minny didn't like the idea. Still don't if she can help it, but findin' willing donors without riskin' yer neck is hard."

"If I 'ad t'do it all again, I pro'lly wouldn't, but I can't and I'm happy fer that. I love that fucking woman, pain in the ass she might be."

[mlobsters]

supernatural s8e5 blood brother (w. ben edlund)

let's see what sort of bad takes i can have today!

SAM I don't know, Dean. I mean, you did try to kill his mother. DEAN I was trying to kill Crowley, okay? Who happened to be wearing Kevin's mother at the time. Well, there's a difference. SAM Apparently not to Kevin. Oh, I know. Maybe because – oh, yeah – it's his mother.

i'm here for the bickering but not whatever replacement-wife-dog drama is actually going on underneath

benny feeling like ruby 3.0 (meg briefly held 2.0)

DEAN Hey, the trail is dead, but the room is paid for. You got some research to do, and I got some personal crap I got to take care of. That's all. SAM What does that mean – "personal"? DEAN Did you have a stroke? Vocabulary? Personal, as in my own grown-up personal – I don't know – crap. SAM Damn it – DEAN What, Sam? Last I counted, you took a year off from the job. I need a day.

the affront at dean having something private, which they're the ones that have surrendered their privacy in order to be insane about each other, and when they start hiding things everything goes to shit. sigh

objectively, i can only imagine the bond dean would have made with benny after being basically in war with him for a year without breaks. like lifetime, cumulatively, spent time in the trenches fighting with sam even might be less than the amount of time they're telling us he and benny were killin stuff together, so i'm gonna give that.

of course doesn't deal with the conflict caused by failure to communicate with sam which truly is evergreen

BENNY Oh, your work here is done, Dean. You already saved the day. You know, I got my, uh, deal, and you got – what'd you call it? A family business?

yes, that's it. family business!

CASTIEL Well, I think we're clear for the moment. It does present a curious curl in the metaphysics, doesn't it? If you murder a monster in monster heaven, where does it go?

great minds

DEAN Listen to me, you undead blood junkie, I'm the one with the mojo. I'm the one with the plan. Cas... we're gonna shove your ass back through the eye of that needle if it kills all three of us. BENNY Obviously, I'm less than comfortable with that.

fair, benny, fair

these prompts for sam's little flashbacks are so goofy. i am going to sit outside and use my laptop boop boop. oh, an ice machine..... 🎶 memory, all alone in the moonlight 🎶

remember when it was cheerfully bright while also a little hazy, and i had a dog? and i fixed things for a living? and was normal?? dreamy

BENNY Boarded, burned, and buried at sea. My nest – that's how we fed… How we always fed. We kept a tight little fleet, maybe a half-dozen boats. Nothing ostentatious, just pleasure craft. I must have circled the Americas ten times during my tour. A few of us would act as stringers and patrol the harbors, looking for the right-size target – fat, rich yachts going to far-off ports.

they said eat the rich 💁

DEAN Vampire pirates? That's what you guys are? Vampirates. BENNY You know, all the years we ran together, I can't believe nobody ever thought of that. DEAN What do you mean? It's like the third thing you say. BENNY No, it isn't.

dean bringing the awkward as ever

BENNY Anyway…our father – he was a jealous god. He kept the family together but kept us apart from the rest of the world, always at sea. I always did what was best for the nest… till I met her.

fits right in with the family, daddy issues all around

deleting the text before sending it to sam 😔 so close and yet so far

hey, benny's lady was in the expanse

the expanse s1e6 rock bottom - athena karkanis as octavia muss

SAM A friend? Dean, you don't have any – all your friends are dead. DEAN That's not what I called to talk about!

they're kind of hamming it up but it's just sad. everything about this

SAM (on phone) I get the separate-lives thing, but this is a hunting thing, and we need to find that line –

separate lives since when

BENNY’S MAKER But she meant everything to you. If that's all I could salvage from my wayward son – the woman he defied his maker for – I wanted someone to remember you by.

lol wayward son

AMELIA You come from nowhere, you appear to be going nowhere, and you've, quote, "seen a lot of stitches." It's all pretty solid creepy.

that was cute but there's something about how she's playing this that gives me strong natalie portman in garden state vibes? is she manic pixie dream girling? it's weirding me out.

AMELIA I used to – have someone, I mean. But that's over now. It's gone. You know what that's like, don't you?

maybe so!!

and now sam's freakin out because dean's in trouble and he's not there to help, so is this when he learns the lesson that he actually does want to stay with dean? since the almost-heart-ripped-out incident wasn't enough. oh, not if benny and dean take care of things and sam's got no saving the day to do. may get to hear the 'go hunt with benny instead' argument after all

music swells after dean kills benny's monster lady, okay. benny sounding ready to die, okay.. flashback meteors of black goo shapeshift into dumbass leviathan okaayyy

that was a nice effect with the little slowmo going for a weapon, dean shaking his head, situation defused

BENNY I can see you two have a lot to talk about.

dean's in troouuble. if you want sam to stay with you, you can't be hiding stuff, man.

[butmakeitgayblog]

Tlfoah aint doing ut for me 😂 Alicia and Sigourney will kill it as always for sure. but them other aussie actors are just meh. I havent seen anything of aussie entertainment that i actually like. Besides the Irwins

Oof idk babe idk if I can get on board with ya on this. I think they're all doing pretty fantastic. Sally is annoying but the actress is kinda killin it anyway because that's just the character really. Her desperation to find peace with her loss and her clinging to the idea of Alice filling that void and so on (tho I do believe she genuinely cares about the girl). Also am loving the woman who plays Twig, June's.... girlfriend?? At least I think they're girlfriends?? I mean if they're not then they got some real MBFW Clexa style bullshit goin on 🥴 but anyway yeah I really like her. She's a good foil to June's stubbornness and reticence

But anyway yeah I mean 🤷‍♀️ if you don't like it don't watch and just enjoy the gifs I'm sure our fabulous and talented gifmakers will post. And just block the tlfoah spoilers tag

[elasgottoomuchfreetime]

✨Supernatural as stuff my best friend and I have said✨

Dean, (prbbly drunk): what I do believe is that JC was a real homie

Cas: Valid, he was one of the real ones

Charlie: brother JC was so chill and today people be killin‘ in his name and he like homies wtf I said love each other not shoot each other

—✨🌈✨—

Dean: the only problem i have with people being too nice is that I think they‘re playing me

—✨🌈✨—

Sam: worst thing is some days I’m like i don’t care, f*ck y‘all. And two days later I’m like i care, please don’t eat me.

—✨🌈✨—

Kevin: and my mental stability just went: iT‘s eVolViNg bUt baCkwArDS

—✨🌈✨—

Lucifer: sudden urge to learn the guitar

Sam: please don’t

—✨🌈✨���

Crowley: I want to see remorse. REMORSE

—✨🌈✨—

Dean: If you yourself don’t feel good enough it doesn’t matter what anyone else says

—✨🌈✨—

Gabriel: If it feelz right it eez right. Yeet. I can do what I want bitches

—✨🌈✨—

Charlie: ye cuz if not there hopefully are enough besties that will commit arson on ur things if u don't treat her like the queen she is

—✨🌈✨—

Jack: big oof, I am giving u and exclusively u the permission to refer to me by any pronouns u want

Jack: signed: ur bro

Jack: (this is it, this is the permission)

—✨🌈✨—

Dean: Jesus is the hipster among the saints

—✨🌈✨—

Cas: I know. Or I don’t? Because I do?

—✨🌈✨—

Bobby: how the hell do they know what weather it‘ll be in two weeks

Sam: has to be a deal with the devil

Dean: probably sit on the floor at weather-headquarters with an Ouija-Board, a frog in front of them surrounded by a bunch of candles and symbols or smth and off they go

—✨🌈✨—

Claire: Hunting down the audacity. Detecting gaslighting. The gen z business

—✨🌈✨—

Sam: Siri, add trauma to the shopping cart

Dean: 🛒 wroom, wroom m*therf*ckers

—✨🌈✨—

Charlie: I‘m just confused by straight people at this point

—✨🌈✨—

Kevin: So I’m the kid on the group assignment that does all the work while the others give input but other than that are only physically present

Dean: yep

—✨🌈✨—

Sam: Ye he somehow thinks he knows what's best for me tho like Mister sir bitch you don't

-“-

[that‘s it. For now]

[average-dnd-writer]

Ajax sorzumich Achilles

Ajax is a 39 year old half orc from Jonesborough Tennessee. He was born on august 17th 3000. He stands at 7’9 and weighs 340 pounds. He’s well built and has hundreds of scars all across his body due to accidents at work or during his time wandering; his jaw was broken by a falling board causing it to become knocked out of place easily. His body is covered in tattoos, multiple in Latin and old Norse. He’s a crack shot with most guns but even more so with his weapons. One of many universal constants. The right side of his face has a large burn scar along with claw marks from a bobcat that swiped his eye during a hunting trip. He speaks multiple languages learning them during his travels, he speaks old norse German Japanese Spanish and Russian . He forged a sword before he began his journey, a massive sword almost as tall as him and sharp as a razor. It could be described as nothing more than a massive chunk of steel. His father died as Ajax entered high school causing him to enter a depressive state where he stopped coming to school and stopped eating. This lasted months, he started withering away to nothing. He was drug out of his house by his friend Anne who he would later marry and have his only child with. A son by the name of mason. Ajax and mason often went on hunting trips together to bond. Mason had his eye swiped similarly by a bobcat as-well during one of these trips causing the father and son to bond over their shared scars. But this peace wasn’t meant to last. Ajax and Anne were returning home from their anniversary dinner, leaving mason with a close friend. They returned home to find their front door kicked in. They both searched the house Ajax searched the second floor while Anne searched the first floor. Ajax was halfway through searching the guest bedroom when he heard a scream and then a gun shot. He rushed down stairs and found masons head nailed to ajax and Anne’s bedroom door, and Anne dead on the floor by Ajax’s revolver that he kept in his nightstand. He called the police but they couldn’t find anything. They told him to get over himself and move on. They took Anne and masons body’s to the coroners office to be autopsied. Ajax was broken, the two most important things in his life were both gone in the blink of an eye. At the age of 26 he lost everything, he decided to end it all with the same gun that Anne used on herself. He picked it up and aimed it at the right side of his head. He cocked the hammer back and pulled the trigger. But the round was faulty causing a burst of flames to burn a large part of the right side of his face. He decided to leave home to find the bastard who ruined his family and put them down. So he packed a bag and left. For ten years he wandered the earth killin folk who needed killin, and some who didn’t. On Christmas of 3026 he was raped by an elf woman who roofied his drink. Resulting in his daughter eve who he lives with now. For the past three years he’s been home. He even returned to work. Eve found him and explained she was his daughter. He was nervous at first but grew to love her. The two of them now live a peaceful life together. Eve joined Ajax’s carpentry company under an apprenticeship so the two of them can work together. Ajax is still waiting for the day he’s called back to wander, he hopes that day never comes.

(Art credit goes to artsyfartsyfox)

[fat-hedonistic-hogs]

Millie have you encountered Charlie?

"The princess? Yeah we've talked, she tried to get us on board with that hotel plan she's got going on. We declined, killin' makes way too much money and I doubt imps could go to heaven even IF redemption was possible."

"Still it would be nice if you stopped posting fliers outside the hotel. I already have enough repeat offenders without a literal murder service advertising on my front door."

[masterofd1saster]

CJ current events 14mar24

Still think DNA is too cool for school?

CBI scientist altered, deleted data in DNA tests in at least 650 cases, internal investigation finds

Investigators found Yvonne “Missy” Woods omitted relevant facts from criminal justice records and tampered with DNA testing by omitting some results, the agency said in announcing the results of its internal investigation Friday.

***

And no, her name is not Lincoln

House Passes ‘Laken Riley Act’ to Combat Migrant Crime

CV NEWS FEED // Exactly two weeks after a University of Georgia (UGA) nursing student was brutally murdered by an illegal immigrant, the House passed legislation named in her honor. The Laken Riley Act, or HR 7511, passed the chamber by a 251-170 margin Thursday. Thirty-seven Democrats joined all voting Republicans in support of the bill. The remaining 170 Democrats voted against it.*** https://catholicvote.org/house-passes-laken-riley-act-to-combat-migrant-crime

Yeah, I know it's symbolic and not going anywhere.....

***

BB bein' brutal -

You may recall -

In August 2015, Jared Fogle pled guilty to two counts of conviction for offenses involving the distribution and receipt of child pornography, as well as travel to engage in illicit sexual conduct with a minor. The district court imposed an above-guidelines sentence of 188 months in prison on each count, to be served concurrently. Fogle appeals his sentence, alleging that the district court committed procedural and substantive errors.

United States v. Fogle, 825 F.3d 354, 356 (7th Cir. 2016). His conviction and sentence were affirmed. The Bureau of Prisons says

+++

BB be killin' it

***

Good cautionary tale for prosecutors

Not sufficiently experienced. Talked too much to media. Not alert to confirmation bias. Struggled with routine admin like discovery & CLE.

***

Dershowitz is usually reliable

https://www.newsmax.com/newsmax-tv/alan-dershowitz-fani-willis-georgia/2024/03/08/id/1156557

***"Even if you need an actual conflict, it's there. The evidence is overwhelming. The evidence is overwhelming that they had an affair before ... she hired him. The evidence is overwhelming that she benefited financially from it. The evidence is overwhelming that he was not qualified to do the job and earn $700,000." He went on to say: "This ought to be a criminal investigation of Fani Willis and the two witnesses ... but I don't know whether the judge will have the courage to actually look and say, I believe you committed perjury. I believe you committed obstruction of justice. I believe you tampered with witnesses. I believe you conspired to commit perjury.***

***

Voters awaken

***In San Francisco, voters backed ballot measures to strengthen the city’s police force and mandate drug tests for welfare recipients, prompting the San Francisco Chronicle to declare on its front page Wednesday morning, “Progressivism Is Out…” Voters also placed a host of moderates on the Democratic County Central Committee, which the Chronicle reported “could reshape who is elected in San Francisco for years.” Steven Buss, co-founder of the non-partisan organization Grow S.F., said of progressive politicians, “They had their turn. They failed. Now it’s time for the city to move on.” Ballot Measure E bolsters the San Francisco Police Department by creating new policies for officers “to report use-of-force incidents,” allows the police to use drones and set up security cameras to reduce and prevent crime, and authorizes the police to use “new surveillance technology,” with a board of supervisors’ approval. The measure also reduces the amount of time officers spend on paperwork, “with the goal that patrol officers spend no more than 20% of their work time on administrative tasks.” The proposal passed with just shy of 60% of the vote. The most controversial of the ballot measures approved on Tuesday was Measure F, which requires drug screening for welfare recipients. The policy requires single adults under 65 years old and with no dependents to submit to drug tests before being eligible to receive county welfare assistance. “When screening indicates a recipient may be dependent on illegal drugs, the City will provide a professional evaluation and may refer the recipient to an appropriate treatment program,” the Measure states.***

The deep-blue state of Washington also approved a host of ballot initiatives on Tuesday, aimed at undoing left-wing policies and legislation enacted over the past few years. *** Initiative 2113 reversed Democrat-backed restrictions on police pursuits, which have resulted in an increase in suspects evading or escaping police. One suspect even called 911 to cite the progressive legislation and tell the police to stop chasing him. The new policy allows police pursuit if an officer has a “reasonable suspicion” that an individual has broken the law and “poses a threat to the safety of others.” Initiative 2111 ended state and local income tax. All three initiatives were approved by the state legislature, while three others were not addressed by the legislature and will appear on the state’s ballots in November. None of the three citizen-led measures approved by the legislature require the governor’s signature to become law. Oregon also recently moved to undo disastrous progressive policies. Last week, legislators passed HB4002, re-criminalizing drugs three years after making fentanyl, cocaine, heroin, and methamphetamine legal. The prior policy, adopted in 2020 with nearly 60% support from voters, imposed minor fines on possession of drugs. The legislation passed last week moves possession of drugs from a Class E violation — punishable by a maximum of a $100 fine — to a Class C misdemeanor — punishable by up to a month in jail and fines of up to $1,250.*** https://washingtonstand.com/news/they-had-their-turn-they-failed-blue-cities-and-states-reject-progressive-policies

***

Ohio imitates Weekend at Bernie's?

Two Ohio women allegedly propped up a dead man in their car during a visit to the bank to withdraw hundreds of dollars from his account before they dropped him off at the hospital. Karen Casbohm, 63, and Loreen Bea Feralo, 55, are now facing felony charges after dropping off the body of Douglas Layman, 80, at Ashtabula County Medical Center emergency room on Monday and leaving, according to Ashtabula Police Chief Robert Stell and Ashtabula Prosecuting Attorney Cecilia Cooper. Medical personnel had no idea who Layman was when the women dropped him at the emergency room.*** https://www.foxnews.com/us/two-ohio-women-facing-felony-charges-after-propping-up-dead-man-car-driving-bank-withdraw-his-money

***

Fool me once....

The Missouri podiatrist who died unexpectedly in January — just over three years after her fiancé’s former lover was also found dead in mysterious circumstances — succumbed to a lethal drug overdose. Sarah Sweeney, 39, who was found dead at a home in the Westwood area of St. Louis on the morning of Jan. 13, died from oxycodone, gabapentin and diphenhydramine intoxication, the Frontenac Police Department said.*** Sweeney was found dead at the home she lived in with her fiancé, local fire captain Robert Daus, public records indicated. Nearly four years earlier, in July 2020, Daus had called first responders to his previous address in Creve Coeur to report that his then-fiancée, Grace Holland, had supposedly shot herself in the head in front of him. Holland — who had four children — was later determined to have taken her own life. Her family disputed the finding, and sued Daus for wrongful death — citing evidence that he controlled Holland’s finances and was threatening to end their relationship.*** https://nypost.com/2024/03/06/us-news/missouri-doc-found-dead-by-murderer-fiance-died-from-overdose/

***

Georgia case based on illegally recording?

***A new book from Mike Isikoff and Daniel Klaidman admits that a widely misunderstood phone call, on which Willis’ political prosecution rests, was illegally recorded. That means the entire prosecution could crumble with defendants having a new avenue to challenge Democrat lawfare.*** Willis ran on pledges to restore professionalism and sexual ethics to the Fulton County district attorney’s office and to begin to deal with a backlog of 11,000 unindicted homicides, assaults, shootings, and other crimes. Instead, the night before her official first day, word leaked of a recent phone call between Trump and Georgia Secretary of State Brad Raffensperger. *** Willis hoped that Raffensperger had been in Fulton County for the call, so she could prosecute Trump based on that false understanding of the call.*** However, the person who recorded the phone call wasn’t in Fulton County or even in Georgia. That’s a problem. Jordan Fuchs, a political activist who serves as Raffensperger’s chief of staff, was in Florida, where it is illegal to record a call without all parties to the call consenting to the recording. She neither asked for nor received consent to record. Fuchs was one of the main sources for Isikoff and Klaidman’s book, they admit in their acknowledgments. While they reward her with effusive praise throughout, she comes off very poorly.*** Covering up the Crime This is where the authors of the book admit that the very recording of the call was a crime: Fuchs has never talked publicly about her taping of the phone call; she learned, after the fact, that Florida where she was at the time is one of fifteen states that requires two-party consent for the taping of phone calls. A lawyer for Raffensperger’s office asked the January 6 committee not to call her as a witness for reasons the committee’s lawyers assumed were due to her potential legal exposure. The committee agreed. But when she was called before a Fulton County special grand jury convened by Fani Willis, she was granted immunity and confirmed the taping, according to three sources with direct knowledge of her testimony.*** https://thefederalist.com/2024/03/07/new-book-admits-fani-willis-get-trump-investigation-began-with-illegal-recording/

This Florida law may make 0 difference in Georgia. You can look it up.

***

Abercrombie & Fitch

Behind the preppy, all-American fashion brand was a sordid world of alleged exploitation and abuse of power

BY RIANNA CROXFORD

https://archive.ph/t006M#selection-585.0-599.15

***The legal complaint, brought by Bradberry and others, also accuses Jeffries and his partner of sex-trafficking, sexual misconduct and rape, alleging it’s likely more than 100 men were abused during his tenure. Jeffries’s lawyer has since called for the case to be dismissed, saying he “vehemently” denies the claims. Smith has echoed the call, saying that the lawsuit does not “detail any specific, factual occurrences” of an alleged sexual offense by him. At the same time, the FBI started investigating, and federal prosecutors have enrolled a grand jury to determine whether there is sufficient evidence to pursue a prosecution. Abercrombie & Fitch, which at the time of publication told us it was “disgusted and appalled” by the allegations, now says it has launched an independent investigation and suspended a substantial part of Jeffries’s retirement payments, totaling about $1 million a year. The company says its current leadership team were not aware of the allegations and have since transformed into “the values-driven organization we are today”, adding that it has “zero tolerance for abuse, harassment or discrimination of any kind”.***

***

Ultra violent girl fight

A 15-year-old is in custody and local and state leaders have responded with outrage after a video from Friday went viral showing one teen beat another’s head into pavement on a residential street near Hazelwood East High School as a group of young people watch.  As of yesterday, the victim was in critical condition at a local hospital, being treated for a severe head injury. Reports that she had succumbed to her injuries were widespread on special media, but unfounded. The assault took place 2:30 p.m. on Friday, March 8, at Norgate and Claudine drives in Spanish Lake. That’s near near Hazelwood East High School, but not on school property, as was originally reported. The St. Louis County Police Department said in a statement that the 15-year-old was taken into custody on Saturday on assault charges and further investigation is ongoing. *** https://www.riverfronttimes.com/news/viral-video-of-beating-near-hazelwood-east-draws-anger-condemnation-42079257

Video shows the victim convulsing in the street.

***

Jewelry - from r/trashy

***

People notice terrifying things

SEATTLE (AP) — The Department of Justice has launched a criminal investigation into the Boeing jetliner blowout that left a gaping hole on an Alaska Airlines plane this January, the Wall Street Journal reported on Saturday. Citing documents and people familiar with the matter, the newspaper said investigators have contacted some passengers and crew — including pilots and flight attendants — who were on the Jan. 5th flight. The Boeing plane used by Alaska Airlines suffered the blowout seven minutes after takeoff from Portland, Oregon, forcing the pilots to make an emergency landing. Boeing has been under increased scrutiny since the incident, when a panel that plugged a space left for an extra emergency door blew off a Max 9 jet. There were no serious injuries.*** [NTSB's] chair, Jennifer Homendy, testified that for two months Boeing repeatedly refused to identify employees who work on door panels on Boeing 737s and failed to provide documentation about a repair job that included removing and reinstalling the door panel. “It’s absurd that two months later we don’t have that,” Homendy said. “Without that information, that raises concerns about quality assurance, quality management, safety management systems” at Boeing.*** https://apnews.com/article/boeing-ntsb-door-plug-emergency-landing-2d23408a25eff999579c88071836dbec

***Wed

Smoke all the weed you want, but tobacco is forbidden

BROOKLINE, Mass. (AP) — A Massachusetts town that adopted an unusual ordinance banning the sale of tobacco to anyone born in the 21st century is being looked at as a possible model for other cities and towns hoping to further clamp down on cigarettes and tobacco products. The bylaw — the first of its kind in the country — was adopted by Brookline in 2020 and last week was upheld by the state’s highest court, opening the door for other communities to adopt similar bans that will, decades from now, eventually bar all future generations from buying tobacco. The rule, which bans the sale of tobacco to anyone born on or after Jan. 1, 2000, went into effect in 2021 in the town of about 60,000 next to Boston.*** https://apnews.com/article/tobacco-ban-21st-century-brookline-massachusetts-e9d54d60ddfe23f9d7e06eb724f5449a

Of course, Massachusetts has recreational weed - https://www.mass.gov/info-details/massachusetts-law-about-recreational-marijuana

***

Florida being less Florida

Florida celebrated International Women's Day last week by treating the state's young women like children. On Friday, state lawmakers approved a bill banning 18- to 20-year-olds from being strippers or from working in any other capacity at an adult entertainment venue. Like a similar bill passed in Texas in 2021, the Florida bill claims to be a blow against human trafficking. As with so many attempts to "protect" people from sex work, this one has major potential to backfire and make abuse and exploitation worse. It's also part of a growing movement across the U.S. to push up the boundaries of childhood, making all sorts of things once legal for 18- to 20-year-olds now off limits.*** https://apnews.com/article/tobacco-ban-21st-century-brookline-massachusetts-e9d54d60ddfe23f9d7e06eb724f5449a

You might say that Florida stripped them of their God-given right to be sexually exploited.

***

Trump Georgia case

The judge overseeing the Georgia election interference case on Wednesday dismissed some of the charges against former President Donald Trump, but many other counts in the indictment remain. Fulton County Superior Court Judge Scott McAfee wrote in an order that six of the counts in the indictment must be quashed, including three against Trump, the presumptive 2024 Republican presidential nominee. But the order leaves intact other charges, and the judge wrote that prosecutors could seek a new indictment on the charges he dismissed. The ruling is a blow for Fulton County District Attorney Fani Willis, whose case has already been on shaky ground with an effort to have her removed from the prosecution over her romantic relationship with a colleague. It’s the first time charges in any of Trump's four criminal cases have been dismissed, with the judge saying prosecutors failed to provide enough detail about the alleged crime.*** https://www.newsmax.com/politics/georgia-election-interference/2024/03/13/id/1157088

***

NJ lie in statistics? Say it aint so...

***

8 Million motives

Special Counsel Robert Hur on Tuesday directly disputed the White House narrative on President Biden's retention of classified documents after his vice presidency, confirming Biden "willfully" retained classified documents, indicated Biden lied to reporters when he said he did not share such information, and testified his report "did not exonerate" Biden of wrongdoing.  He insisted in nationally televised testimony to Congress that Biden did "willfully" keep nationally secrets but that prosecutors did not believe they could prove it to a jury beyond a reasonable doubt. Hur was appointed special counsel by the Justice Department to look into Biden's handling of classified document after he left the Obama White House in 2017.  Republicans, led by House Judiciary Committee Chairman Jim Jordan, questioned Hur in testimony likely to influence the 2024 elections, in which Biden is seeking reelection, and argued Biden kept the materials because they will help him write a book that earned him $8 million. Hur confirmed to lawmakers Biden did in fact share classified information with the ghostwriter for the book.*** https://justthenews.com/government/congress/watch-live-special-counsel-hur-testifies-house-judiciary-biden-classified

+++

The transcript of Joe Biden’s interview with Special Counsel Bob Hur showed the president frequently wandered off topic, even making “car noises.”***

Attorney Marc Krickbuam asked Biden: “Do you remember whether it was when the Corvette was coming back after the Jay Leno show? So, in other words, it goes out for Jay Leno, eventually it comes back.” Biden responded, “Oh no, it was, it was in and out for a bunch of reasons,” before starting to chatter away. “Because it drove me crazy; I wanted to drive it,” Biden continued. Krickbaum responded, “Got it. That makes sense. A beautiful car.” According to the transcript, Biden then proceeded to talk about his car, and make car noises. “And the worst part was, they said I couldn’t drive it outside the driveway. It’s a long driveway. So I’d get to the bottom of the driveway, tack it up to about four grand (indiscernible) (makes car sound) (indiscernible) (laughter),” it quoted Biden. Biden then started talking about cars in general, before Hur interrupted with, “Sir, I’d love — I would love to hear much more about this, but I do have a few more questions to get through.” Biden ignored him, and continued talking about cars, to which Hur finally said, “All right. So let’s — let’s launch into the next subject which relates to the Penn Biden Center.” Another portion of the transcript shows Hur asking Biden about the time he lived at the Naval Observatory as vice president that ended up with Biden discussing a man losing part of his testicles and penis. Hur asid, “So now let’s talk about the Naval Observatory. So you’ve been living there for eight years. So at the end of your vice presidency, what kinds of papers or documents or files were at the Naval Observatory as you were preparing to leave and move out?” Biden then launched into a long-winded story, where he talked about waiting for bar exam results and working for a law firm in the meantime that was representing a young man. “And this poor kid is down a hundred-foot vessel, chimney, scraping the hydrogen bubbles off of the inside. They were made to shut the plant down once every — whatever, about eight months or six months or a year, whatever it is. And he was wearing the wrong pants, wrong jeans, and he — a spark caught fire and got caught in the containment vessel and he lost part of his penis and one of his testicles and he was 23 years old,” Biden continued. After continuing on about how he got involved in politics, Hur finally interrupted him, saying, “So, sir, the material that you just — that you remember having, again, trying to steer us back to the end of your vice presidency and focusing on your move out of the Naval Observatory.”*** Biden continued to talk about how he was handed a bow and arrow and he hit a target on a hay bale. After that story, one of the attorneys requested to take a break.  https://www.breitbart.com/politics/2024/03/12/hur-transcript-shows-joe-biden-made-car-noises-and-often-meandered-off-topic/

+++

CLAS material found seven different places - https://twitter.com/CitizenFreePres/status/1767617888947503588

***

Hazelwood East HS

After the assailant smashed the victim's head into concret multiple times, the girl lay motionless on the sidewalk until  she began to have a seizure. She was taken to the hospital and has remained there since. James Clark, vice president of Public Safety and Community Response expressed concerns over the video and corresponding trend to the outlet. "That's a glimpse into the mentality and the culture of our young people today," he stated. "The social pressure is to be socially dysfunctional. Who can be the loudest? Who can be the most disruptive?"  ***  https://thepostmillennial.com/history-of-violent-fights-alleged-anti-white-racism-plagues-missouri-high-school-at-center-of-brutal-beating-controversy

***Thurs

In Junior Biden news....

A federal judge in Delaware on Wednesday set a June trial date for Hunter Biden on gun-related charges, the same month his trial on tax-related charges is set to begin in Los Angeles. U.S. District Court Judge Maryellen Noreika set a June 3 trial date after a status conference with the legal team for President Joe Biden’s son and prosecutors from Department of Justice special counsel David Weiss, CNN reported. Hunter Biden has pleaded not guilty to charges of unlawfully purchasing a revolver while using illicit drugs, and lying on federal forms about his drug use when he bought the weapon. Hunter Biden also faces a June 20 trial date on nine federal tax-related charges in California regarding an alleged conspiracy to avoid paying more than $1 million in taxes. He has pleaded not guilty in that case, as well.*** https://www.newsmax.com/newsfront/hunter-biden-joe-biden-gun-charges/2024/03/13/id/1157170

***

The award for strangest conspiracy ever goes to...

Defendant Worked to Traffic Marco Polo Sheep Parts from Kyrgyzstan, Clone Sheep, Illegally Inseminate Ewes to Create Hybrids and Traffic Rocky Mountain Bighorn Sheep Parts

A Montana man pleaded guilty today to two felony wildlife crimes – a conspiracy to violate the Lacey Act and substantively violating the Lacey Act – as part of an almost decade-long effort to create giant sheep hybrids in the United States with an aim to sell the species to captive hunting facilities. Arthur “Jack” Schubarth, 80, of Vaughn, Montana, is the owner and operator of Sun River Enterprises LLC – also known as Schubarth Ranch – which is a 215-acre alternative livestock ranch in Vaughn. The Schubarth Ranch is engaged in the purchase, sale and breeding of “alternative livestock” such as mountain sheep, mountain goats and various ungulates. The primary market for Schubarth’s livestock is captive hunting operations, also known as shooting preserves or game ranches. According to court documents, Schubarth conspired with at least five other individuals between 2013 and 2021 to create a larger hybrid species of sheep that would garner higher prices from shooting preserves. Schubarth brought parts of the largest sheep in the world, Marco Polo argali sheep (Ovis ammon polii), from Kyrgyzstan into the United States without declaring the importation. Average males can weigh more than 300 pounds with horns that span more than five feet. Marco Polo argali are native to the high elevations of the Pamir region of Central Asia. They are protected internationally by the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species, domestically by the U.S. Endangered Species Act and are prohibited in the State of Montana to protect native sheep from disease and hybridization. Schubarth sent genetic material from the argali parts to a lab to create cloned embryos. Schubarth then implanted the embryos in ewes on his ranch, resulting in a single, pure genetic male Marco Polo argali that he named “Montana Mountain King” or MMK.

Court documents explain that Schubarth worked with the other unnamed coconspirators to use MMK’s semen to artificially impregnate various other species of ewes – all of which were prohibited in Montana – and create hybrid animals. Their goal was to create a larger and more valuable species of sheep to sell to captive hunting facilities, primarily in Texas. To move the prohibited sheep into and out of Montana, Schubarth and others forged veterinary inspection certificates, falsely claiming that the sheep were legally permitted species. On occasion, Schubarth sold MMK semen directly to sheep breeders in other states.

*** https://www.justice.gov/opa/pr/montana-man-pleads-guilty-federal-wildlife-trafficking-charges-part-yearslong-effort-create

***

***

[evaxoxoblog]

16/2/24

Hello literally non existent people (i'm pretty sure no one is seeing these posts which is quite comforting tbh). I just had the weirdest experience with my bsf. We haven't spoken in a few months because she has been ill. she has also been a bit possessive over various kpop groups we both like (its dumb ik, but she was just constantly trying to one-up me in everything, whether it was pinterest boards, comments on insta posts, etc, (this didn't really bother me, but the next bit did) and recently she unfollowed me on literally every social media platform you could think of.) it was really fking weird. we met up today to talk about it and I kind of (?) have all my questions answered. i think we are on good terms and I think I handled it well. i won't go into the details because its personal, and I'm kind of scared she would see this even though she doesn't have tumblr lol, but I think I'm just gonna deal with it as it happens.

i'm meeting up with my other friends tomorrow and we are going to watch a horror film (that's what we always do together) and open the Christmas presents we got for each other, which we intended to give around xmas but we didn't make plans back then lmao. we also just gossip a lot bc we are all in different friendship groups so we can just dump everything to each other and it doesn't really matter. i love hanging out with them, though we only manage to meet up every two months haha.

another funny thing that happened was i got a voicemail notification from an unknown number. it was a recording of the felix 'wakey wakey' meme and I was actually terrified bc either my friend was pranking me or someone was stalking me haha. luckily it was the former option haha. she better prepare herself lol. i think I will send her a chan one bc he's her bias.

i have been listening to so much p1harmony recently, as well as skz. i love them both smmmmmm. i really want to get the Killin It album but I hate spending a lot of money at a time, so I'll wait a few months. currently watching the waterpark ep. of run bts rn which is banging as always. idk if I've already mentioned it but I really recommend guccitae.

back to school in three days, which I'm not mad about as I'm alright at school and I like seeing my friends. i started reading the book by Meiko Kawakami which is so good. I've almost finished my journal which feels weird too, but I'm excited. i got a new notebook for Christmas which will prob be my next one; exciting.

x eva

[k00292941]

Week 2

Ceramics

My ceramics pieces came out of the killin all in tact, and I became excited to turn them into finished pieces.

I began to prep the ceramic pieces by completely submerging them in water, and letting the clay soak up the water, we did this, so it wouldn’t soak up as much paint and the paint would go on much smoother.

I then prepped the colours I was using by taking a small amount of each and slightly watering them down.

I decided to keep it. The colour is rather traditional well also quite feminine with uses of different shades of pink.

These colours were inspired bye Anna Barlow, I like how she kept her ceramic food extremely realistic.

When I was done painting my cake, I moved it onto a wooden board and saw that the painted left an imprint of a heart on the sheet of paper.

I rather like the impression that it left I thought it remind me of a love heart sweet, So I decided to play around and add a little aggressive feminist message.

I then dipped my cake into the glaze doing 1/2 of the gig followed by the other half.

I then scratched away the glaze at the bottom of the cake, where would be touching the killin to prevent it from sticking to the killin and causing any damage to the ceramic piece.

I was truly inspired by bitch stitch and wanted to incorporate something like that into my clay piece.

I decided to use a marker to draw stitch like patterns onto my two ceramic pieces and keep the colours, roughly similar to my paper 3D pieces I was basing them off of.

I decided to add a little feminist sentence to each one, to truly help the viewer, see how angry women are all over the world.

I was very happy with how they turned out.

 My ceramic cake came out of the killin once again, all intact.

 I wanted to add a feminist quote to my cake like Becca Rae to help spread my message of the feminist movement, and how tired women are all over the world for how they’re constantly being treated and stereotyped. 

I played around with two quotes and I could easily wipe off the quotes due to the glaze making it like a whiteboard and decided I liked that I’m not a piece of cake line more.

I added a ceramic knife, stabbing the cake to really sure how strongly we all feel about this movement.

I was very happy with the overall outcome of my cake.

[sekhisadventures]

Cutlasses and Caves

Valdrakken, The Roasted Ram

Jeemjazo grinned a foxy grin as he looked over the contracts hanging on the board in the Inn. Requests for aid, offers of work, that sort of thing. Whether they were calling for heroes or commands from a warchief, all major cities had them in Azeroth. A work board for those who would do odd jobs for money, whether those involve transporting goods or gutting foes.

He had been working on his weapon training with Galdia and Dareley for a while, but both of them had been busy helping to deal with a resurgence of Fyrakk’s cult in the Ohn’ahran Plains lately, which left the former pirate restless.

As he looked through them one of them caught his eye… a request for help from Iskaara, the seaside Tuskaar village on the northern end of the island. Apparently someone had been stealing supplies and food from them late at night… the obvious suspects would be the Rothides, but nobody had died in the thefts, and nobody had seen the thieves, which suggested a sophistication the gnolls were not known for.

As he took the notice off the board he heard a voice behind him.

“Whatcha upto Jeem?” came the familiar voice of Sekhi, the vulpera shamaness walking up to him with a half-finished skewer of mammoth meat. She rather liked them and would often get them when she was at the Ram.

“Eh, thought I’d go try what I learned on a real opponent. Yer mates are good teachers, but I wanna fight somethin’ that ain’t made of wood, savvy?” he grinned, his tail swishing as Murgly Jim dozed in his backpack.

Sekhi looked over his shoulder, then frowned. She knew about Iskaara and the threats around it. This may not be the work of the gnolls, but that wouldn’t mean Jeem wasn’t at risk of encountering them if he did go. “Jeem, I dunno about that one. Th’ Azure Span can be really yippin’ dangerous…” she whined.

Jeemjazo rolled his eyes, “Ehhh, can’t be THAT bad Sekhi. I survived ten years with ol’ Saltfang, I can handle a few rotty ‘yeenamen.” he grinned back, though part of him was a bit worried he did his best to ignore it.

Sekhi cocked her head, hearing his song… but she also heard what else was going on there. “Um… ya want me ta come with ya? I mean, I could watch your back…” she offered.

Jeemjazo felt his face warm under his fur, then shook his head. “Nope! No helpin’ Sekhi! How am I gonna learn how ta fight on my own if I ain’t on my yippin’ own?!” he insisted, quickly ducking around the shamaness, and heading for the door. “You’ll see! I’ll be back in a bit with a big sack of reward money ‘n next time th’ skewers are on ME!” he grinned widely, tapping his chest with confidence before he made his way to the city’s flight master.

Sekhi frowned, the vulpera’s ears flicking a bit as she picked up the songs around her… then she chewed her skewer thoughtfully as she reached into her bag, feeling around for something…

The Azure Span, a half-day’s flight later.

Jeemjazo sat in the tent of the village chieftain, Brena, as Murgly Jim dug into a tiny cup (or a big bowl for him) of eel stew with eagerness.

“So yes, I’ve had men standing guard, but nobody has seen anyone! Even our ottusks don’t smell any attackers. It can’t be the gnolls, you can smell them from a mile away no matter what you are!” she nodded, “We… think they’re coming from the ice caves to the west, but with Wratheye and her minions causing so much chaos to the south we can’t spare the fighters to go find out who’s causing it… and we’re having to ration out less and less food every day because of the thefts. Kinook is really getting upset about that…” she sighed, “If you could just find out what and who the thieves are, we could at least know if we can risk sending our own men or need to recruit more adventurers.”

Jeemjazo nodded at her words, “Hmm… so more of a ‘scoutin’ mission’ than a ‘killin’ one.’” he nodded. It made sense, he remembered Saltfang would sometimes send a dingy of just a few pirates to scope out a village before they made a serious attempt to pillage it just incase. “Well, I suppose I could look inta it. I mean I can be pretty sneaky-like when I need ta be.” grinned the Vulpera.

Brena nodded gratefully, “We would appreciate it. Get back here with at least some idea of what we’re dealing with and the reward money is your’s.” she nodded, holding out her hand. Jeemjazo nodded and shook on it, then let Jim finish the last of his soup with a loud fishy belch before putting him back in his shell and heading out westward from the village along the coastline.

He bristled a bit at the cold, but it didn’t bother him too much. Saltfang had sailed all over Azeroth and if there was one thing he did at least get out of that, he saw quite a bit of the world. Northrend, Freeport, Booty Bay, Rachet, Gadgetzan… he did at least get ONE thing he wanted out of his enslavement as cabin boy.

His walk took a few hours, but eventually he reached the base of a huge mountain. Looking up he could see the strange purple glow of the arcane energies coming from the Azure Archive. He’d heard about it from Leza, Sekhi’s sister telling him that Nelen had promised to take her there once things had calmed down. Right now, however, he was noticing a cave along the base of the mountain, and a wooden rowboat moored nearby...

He narrowed his eyes, then drew his sword and axe as he slowly crept forward, peering into the cave… “Keep yer gob shut Jim… if there is someone ‘ere ‘n they ‘ear us, we’re fishbait.” he whispered.

From behind him Murgly Jim gave a faint, “Mrblg…” which he assumed meant he understood… or he was hungry again.

Jeemjazo looked down as he entered, his eyes narrowing.

Footprints in the snow dusting the entrance… but not gnoll ones. These ones came from someone wearing boots. Several people, given how many different sizes there were.

He crept further along, his weapons ready… moving as silently as he could…

As he got deeper in, the light from the entrance having almost faded to nothing, he saw a glow up the tunnel, and heard voices.

“… fish, eel, fish, crab, fish… can’t ye lot at least nick some of th’ soup that big one is stewin’?!” came a gruff voice, sounding rather goblin-like.

“Oh shut yer damn noise Peddlecoat! They lock th’ pot at nighttime! With FIVE locks! Those tuskarr take their soup fuckin’ SERIOUSLY!” snarled a voice that said worgen, a female one if he was any judge.

“Yeah yeah whatever… just gettin’ sick o’ grillin’ wut we steal. Shoulda just stayed in Freeport. Th’ Irontides were bloody idiots to try to plunder th’ Forbidden Reach with th’ Alliance and Horde here.” growled the goblin, and this made Jeem’s ears perk up.

“Irontides…” he whispered, “They’re pirates… must be survivors from when Sekhi ‘n her mates cleared ‘em out with th’ rest o’ th’ adventurers…”

The Irontide Pirates had attempted to sail to the Forbidden Reach to plunder it for lost dragon treasure when the storm over it had dissipated following Raszageth’s death… but their opportunistic attack had ended in utter failure when the dracthyr, aided by the adventurers who had traveled to the isles, drove them back. Most of the pirates who had landed there were killed, the rest scattering into the sea rather than face annihilation.

Jeemjazo growled under his breath. Their voices bringing back memories of his time in Saltfang’s crew… but he bit it back. He wanted to take them on, but he could hear at least four of them in all, and while he was confident he’d learned some tricks… he wasn’t suicidal. “Right, got what Brena wanted… time ta set sail ‘n bugger off…” he whispered, then he jumped a bit as he felt Jim’s flipper slapping onto his shoulder frantically.

“Jim ye bloody git, ye almost scared th’ piss outta me! Stop…” he growled, turning… then his eyes went wide as his ears folded down… and seconds later a boot slammed into his middle!

Jeem yelped in pain as he fell onto the floor of the cave, his weapons clattering away as a hand slammed down onto his throat, pulling him up off the floor. Murgly Jim had been thrown free of his shell in the impact, the murloc tumbling away near the wall of the cave. Then he heard a voice, and a chill went up his spine.

“Well bugger me sideways with an oar! ITS ME OL’ CABIN BOY REDMANE!” cackled a deep orcish voice.

Jeemjazo grabbed at the hand around his throat, his eyes huge. “Z-Zarg?!” he gasped, seeing the scarred sneering face of Saltfang’s former first mate, Zarg Bloodtusks!

“HAH! I figured ye’d have starved to death halfway to Orgrimmar, but here ye are on th’ Dragon Isles! Well good! We’ve been needin’ an extra set o’ hands around here ‘n yer’s are JUST th’ right size!” he laughed, stomping past the fallen weapons as he walked into the cavern room proper, the other pirates looking up.

“Hm?” grunted Peddlecoat, a bald goblin with a chunk of his right ear missing and a screw through the septum of his nose. “Whats this Zarg? Found a spy?” he asked.

The worgen woman stood up, she had brown fur and long fangs, and was toying with a sharp dagger. “Want me ta gut th’ little fish? I could use a new hat…” she cackled.

“Oh no need fer that Joellen…” chuckled Zarg, “He’s an ol’ matey of mine! Everyone, meet Redmane… me former Cabin Boy!”

The other pirates grinned at that. Jeem had learned quickly that ‘Cabin Boy’ on most Bloodsail ships meant ‘slave’ essentially. His treatment was far from unusual among their crews.

“Oho! Then we got us a gofer! Brilliant lad!” laughed a Dark Iron Dwarf as he stood, unsheathing his axe. “Hmm… he’s kickin’ pretty good tho… mebbe I should cut off a few toes, make sure he dunnae run away.”

Zarg grinned at Redmane, “Aye, might not be a bad idea there Cragboot… I was buried under th’ remains of me ol’ ship, but I saw what he did to our captain.” he scowled, “Ran him right through with his own cutlass, then plundered our head engineer fer his weapons ‘n buggered off without so much as diggin’ a grave…” he growled.

Jeemjazo snarled, kicking frantically as he felt his blood boiling at the memory, and the memories of Zarg’s abuse on the ship, but his weapons were across the room and Zarg’s grip was like iron! He couldn’t get free!

Then they heard raised voices outside the cave, and Zarg grinned widely. “Hear that Redmane? That’s me crew… rather, it be our crew now… yer goin’ right back to bein’ a Cabin Boy again, where shit like you belongs!” he sneered.

Jeemjazo glared, then grinned. “No, I bloody ain’t!” he barked, then his hand flew to his belt and he drew his pistol! In the gloom of the cave it went unnoticed! Zarg’s eyes widened as the vulpera took aim and with an echoing bang he shot the orc point blank in the shoulder! It was only Zarg’s reflexes that made him miss his throat!

Jeemjazo fell to the floor with a yelp and scrambled away from them as Zarg cursed and clutched at the bullet wound, the vulpera racing back to where his weapons and Jim had fallen.

“FUCKIN’ FEL! I’LL HAVE YER HIDE FOR THAT CABIN BOY!” snarled the orc as he drew his own axe as Jeemjazo made it back to his weapons. Jim was against the wall, stunned by the impact, but the vulpera left him there. Best he stay out of the melee. He quickly snatched up his weapons. Then glared at them, thinking back to Dareley’s words.

“Yer a vulpera, ye lot are fast ‘n agile. Use yer speed.” the old dwarf had said.

Peddlecoat growled and ran forward, his sword raised! “Aim…” whispered Jeemjazo, waiting for him to get close, then he blocked the sword with his axe and there was a blur of steel from his other hand as the cutlass slashed wide.

The goblin’s eyes went huge as he dropped his weapon, stumbling back and clutching at his neck as blood streamed out between his fingers, the veins in his neck severed wide! “… for th’ arteries…” whispered Jeemjazo.

The worgen roared in fury, “Peddlecoat! FUCKIN’ DESERT RAT! I’LL EAT YE ALIVE!” she snarled, charging forward on all fours, her dagger forgotten.

“… or…” Jeemjazo waited, licking his muzzle, and when the worgen pounced he rolled under her. She landed on all fours, then let out a pained yelp as his axe bit home right into the back of her leg. She fell to the floor of the cave, gasping in pain as she clutched at her ankle, the flesh cut right down to her bone as her foot shook and trembled, left unable to support her weight!

“… sever th’ tendons, then they can’t walk or stand…” grinned Jeemjazo as he readied his weapons. Two down, three to go.

Zarg glared, “Who taught ye ta fight ye bilge rat?” he growled, “Bah! It doesn’t fuckin’ matter! Me mates are right outside ‘n they’ll sort ye out soon enough! Ye can’t fight all of us!” he sneered, walking forward.

Then, from the cave’s entrance came a voice.

“Apologies, but your ‘mates’ shall not be joining you today.” came a feminine voice, but deeper than one might expect.

Silhouetted against the cavern entrance was a tall reptilian woman, her wings spread wide. “They did not care for me entering the cave after my friend’s friend entered… so I had to deal with them rather harshly.” she grinned, “Now, stand down, or face one of the Dark Talons. I assume you pirates remember us from the Forbidden Reach?”

Standing in the cave was Laurelgosa, already transformed, holding a draconic sword in one hand and a spell foci in her other. The blade of her sword already splattered with blood, presumably from where she’d ‘delt harshly’ with the other pirates.

Zarg stepped back, glaring at her… “What?! There was a dozen pirates out there! Me crew had just come back from raidin’ a trader’s vessel!” he spat in disbelief.

“Yes. There were. No more.” replied the Dracthyr. “My kind were made to combat the likes of the Incarnates and the Primalists. Do you truly think a mob of ruffians and thieves can stand against one of us?” she hissed, stepping forward…

Then, the remaining two pirates panicked. Cragboot roared an oath in dwarvish and charged forward with his axe raised as Zarg yelled a warning to him, but it was too late. Laurelgosa breathed in deep, then with a loud roar an eruption of dragon fire hit the dwarf full on! When the flames dissipated a few charred bones clattered to the floor of the cave.

The other pirate, a human man with a blunderbuss, screamed in horror at the sight and aimed his gun at her. Laurelgosa flexed and her scales darkened, shining like polished obsidian as the gun fired. She grunted and stumbled backwards, but the bullet didn’t penetrate…

“That was a mistake.” she hissed, and then she shot forward! She couldn’t fly in the cave, but she could do short jumps with her wings, enough to land infront of the terrified human and run him through with her sword!

As she did however Zarg raced around her and charged Jeemjazo! “YOU SHITTY LITTLE RAT! THAT’S TWO CREWS THAT DIED ‘CAUSE OF YE! IF WE HADN’T DROPPED ANCHOR TO PUNISH YE THAT NIGHT WE’D HAVE NEVER BEEN IN THAT BLOODY STORM!” he snarled, bringing his axe down.

But that was what did it, the memory of Zarg dragging him to the skillet so the other pirates could laugh and watch him suffer sharpened his resolve. He waited, then at the last minute he dodged, the axe slamming down where he was and getting stuck in the floor of the cave!

“That’d do a number on me Zarg, but ye gotta get yer axe free before I getcha now…” he grinned, Dareley’s words ringing true once more. Before the orc could pull it loose his cutlass stabbed upwards! “… ‘n matey, ye ain’t fast enough fer that!” he growled.

Zarg coughed, Jeemjazo’s sword had gone right into his throat, piercing it through out the back! He gasped, reaching for him as he tried to aim his hands at the vulpera's neck, but already the strength was going out of him. He fell slowly to his side, “R-redmane… you… little shit... I…” he gasped out.

“When ye get ta th’ Shadowlands, tell ol’ Saltfang I said ‘fuck ye, ye rotten ol’ bastard.’” he nodded firmly as Zarg fell to the ground. A moment later he stopped breathing, his eyes going glassy as his blood pooled under him.

Laurelgosa walked back to him, her body shimmering with scarlet flames as she resumed her visage form of Laura Brightflame. “Are you injured Jeemjazo?” she asked him.

Jeemjazo shook his head, walking over to Murgly Jim and picking the murloc up. He was a bit bruised, but nothing that wouldn’t heal. He sat the murloc back into his backpack, then looked back at Laura. “Only me pride. Sekhi sent ye, didn’t she?” he asked.

Laura blushed a bit, “She was worried about you Jeemjazo. You were going to find out information on an unknown enemy, it is not wise to do these sorts of tasks alone…” she admitted, “So yes, when you left she used our gemstones to contact me and asked me to follow from the skies and intervene if you got in trouble. When I saw the pirates landing outside I realized you would be trapped between them in the cave and… yes, I dealt with them.”

Jeemjazo sighed, wiping his sword and axe off on Zarg’s shirt, then he stood. “Aye… I should prolly thank her when we get back…” he said begrudgingly, “I’d be a cabin boy again, or dead, without yer help… thanks matey.” he grinned a bit at her.

She smiled back, then they both looked up at the sound of movement.

The worgen pirate, Joellen, was still alive and trying to crawl out of the cave. Jeemjazo’s attack had severed the tendons in her leg, but it was not a fatal wound.

“What should we do with that one?” asked Laura.

Jeemjazo looked at her, his eyes narrowing… she was a pirate, just like the ones that had tormented him all those years. Just like Saltfang who had treated him like a slave. He pulled something out of his belt, and fiddled with it a bit… “Hm… Sekhi’d probably heal her leg ‘n send her off after she promised ta leave th’ Tuskaar alone… but…”

There was a loud bang and the worgen fell to the cave floor, a bullet hole in the back of their head. Jeemjazo looked at her icily, smoke rising from the barrel of his pistol. “… Sekhi ain’t yippin’ here, ‘n I’m sick ta feckin’ death o’ pirates.” he growled, blowing the smoke from the gun barrel and sliding it into his belt once more. “… er, don’t tell her I did that though?” he asked.

Laura looked from the corpse to him, then shrugged, “I am a soldier Jeemjazo. A spared foe can attack you from behind, a dead one cannot.” she replied, then she paused and thought of Edwood and Mola’raum, “… normally.” she added.

“Well, anyways, lets set sail ta Iskaara ‘n let Brena know that they don’t gotta worry ‘bout no more thefts.” he nodded, “Fancy a bowl o’ fish stew while we’re there? My treat? I mean, ye saved me yippin’ tail.” he nodded, walking out of the cave as Laura smiled at him.

“That sounds quite lovely Jeemjazo. I accept your offer.” she replied.

The two were no strangers to death. Laurelgosa had fought against the enemies of the Black Dragonflight in ancient times, and against the Primalists in more recent history, and more of her memories of the former returned every day. Jeemjazo meanwhile, had seen his share of pillaging from Saltfang’s ship and had seen how ruthless pirates could be. Mercy was not something he would show them.

Truly, he would probably be quite the asset to the Horde Navy someday… but for now, there was Iskaara, and soup. Big Kinook’s soup was not to be missed.

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[colorisbyshe]

oh man, yeah, i'm one of the people who can't eat spicy food anymore and it is so sad!! but it is worth it cause before i had gallstones like once a month for a year and then i ended up in the hospital with pancreatitis and they were just yeaaah we're gonna have to get that sucker out of there and things are better now :) thats actually horrific that they made you suffer through more pain.

It's more horrific that you went through that for a YEAR!!!!!!!

I had like smaller gall stones for like maybe or month or two and tried some home remedies (I think it was gas and then maybe heartburn because I had just... never heard of gall stones before? Not with specifics) but as soon as I went to my APRN, she was on board for figuring out a solution (she genuinely thought low fat would help and it kinda did) and as soon as I said "GET THIS FUCKER OUT OR I'M KILLIN GMYSELF" she hooked me up with a surgeon.

I can't imagine it going on for a YEAR and it leading to pancreatitis. I am so sorry the medical system failed you on that level.

I feel like for something sooo common, a lot of doctors just DO NOT know how to effectively help. Or act like the surgery is ~too risky when like... most of the time it's laparoscopic and a quick, go in, go out procedure. It only gets harder the more you let it linger/fester.