#and i tweaked his hair color myself

[cchanticleer]

owain is having a unique sprite is cool and all but when you blow it up its fucking inscrutable. i'm making some cross stitch patterns just for kicks, how tf am i supposed to make it so you can actually tell what's going on here

[starswordartblog]

hey look it’s Kazin from Shining Wisdom! Because being one of the most important NPCs who basically carries the whole ending he was definitely given a nice talksprite right? Right????

Yeah i’m Slightly Mad that he and Sarah don’t get cool art in this game so of course i tried something. Though complex shading is not my thing and i didn’t wanna give up the mega drive bright colors (i don’t know the sega saturn’s colors limitations either) so it isn’t that accurate to the style either, but you know what it is? It’s cute as heck and that’s what we’re here for.

Pose was heavily based on his portrait from the cancelled mobile game, because while that game seemed to be following official art very closely it also gave him a way bigger nose than in SF2, and i wondered if it was a reference to his Wisdom sprite. So I gave it a shout out here as well.

[sunnitheapollokid]

🏎️ ˖*°࿐ CP 1, may the best racer win!

🎤 mc’s notes : AND HERE SHEEE ISS!! yes,, i’ve been tryna cook this. THIS WHAT IVE BEEN SO EXCITED ABOUT. guys. racers are hot. like cmon. how could i not. AND REMEMBER WHEN I SAID LEO’S FAV MOVIE IS CARS? yep. this is it. GAH i hope you guys like this as much as i loved making it!!! enjoy! and see you again soon! >3<

🏎️ ˖*°࿐

LEO WIPED the grease off his forehead with the ends of his white tank. he’d been working on his car for the past hours, forgetting that it had been forever since he’d last eaten. he should probably get on that. he let out his last heavy breath before getting up. he patted the hood of his red racecar, “you’re almost as good as new flames.” since his last race, his car had been beaten up pretty good by one of the other racers, travis stoll. he was annoyed to say the least, but he shouldn’t have been surprised. that’s what regularly happens on the track.

“leo?” he slightly jumped at the sound of his name being called, since it was incredibly late at night. only hearing the crickets out of his garage door and the flickering of his broken light. “yo jace!” he clutched his chest in relief, not that he was.. nervous or scared.. or anything. jason chuckled, patting flames with his own palm. “not working yet?” leo bit his lip, “just a few more tweaks and she’ll be good.” leo mirrored the blondie’s smile.

jason nodded, “good. ‘cause we got another race coming up soon.” leo furrowed his brows, “wh-what? we just finished tour!” he shot back, gripping the wrench in his hand tightly. jason gave a kind of scoff-laugh, “you’ll change your mind once you find out who’s coming out of camp to race.” the emphasizing of jason’s choice of words brought leo curious to say the least. the curly-haired kept silent, watching his best friend leave and back inside.

“who??” he asked the darkness.

🏎️ ˖*°࿐

“ANNIE, i’m gonna get myself killed.”

“no you won’t! i’ve seen you out there (name)! you’re an amazing racer!” (name) groaned softly, throwing her head back in her chair. “no way josé!! i’m telling you!” annabeth exchanged the same expression, crossing her hands over her chest as she attempted to convince one of her very best friends to start racing. “piper and hazel would say the same! you’re amazing.”

“please don’t charm me.”

annabeth groaned, “okay fine. one race.” (name) continued her own work, rubbing her forehead as she focused. halfly on the words of annabeth. “you do one race, if you hate it, fine. no more racing. you like it, then keep. doing. it!” (name) stopped. it wasn’t an entirely bad idea. she did love racing. what’s the worst that could happen? she turned to annabeth, “one race. i’ll do one race.” annabeth practically jumped in place, clearing her throat she beamed. “it’s settled.”

they shook hands. “we need to get you some equipment little miss sunshine racer.”

🏎️ ˖*°࿐

VEGAS WAS never this big back then. at least to leo it wasn’t. he remembered wilderness school back in nevada with jason and piper, and vegas was never this big. but then again, they we’re always on some weird field trip out of the city.

“feels good to be back, yeah?” jason patted the shorter boy’s back. leo letting out a chuckle as he shook his head. “yeah. duh.” he replied a hint of sarcasm mixed in. jason knocked the back of his head with another laugh. “you never told me who this special guest racer was.” leo opened the pack of candy in the compartment of his car while some others polished the red car.

jason let out an ‘ahh.’ “i’d rather keep it a secret until we get on the track.” leo rolled his eyes, “jason c’mon! you know i can’t wait for shit like this!” he cried, his mouth full of rainbow-colored skittles. jason laughed again before being cut off by the host, “racers to your stations! the race is about to start!” the two began to double-check their cars, and greeting a few of the audiences. the half-blood racers had always been famous. especially leo. he was an automatic crowd favorite, for being one of the fastest, the one with the best car, and of course, the guy was attractive in a racing jacket.

“there she is.”

jason laughed as he high-fived the [hair color] haired under the yellow helmet. leo raised a brow, “who the hell?” he mumbled to himself, thinking it was just some other guy going to wreck his car on the track again. jason turned to leo, “oh leo, this is our special guest.” leo watched the stranger remove the helmet from their face,

“(name) (last name)?” his mouth hanged open at the sight of the girl. “nice to see you too lee.” the way that her hair fell out of her helmet and so gracefully on her shoulders sent him to the moon. she walked towards him, ruffling his curly hair with a smile. “i haven’t seen you in ages!! look at you! finally taller than me!” she cackled, her one arm hugging her helmet, the other on her hip. (name) wore a yellow racing suit that matched her helmet.

“you look..” leo trailed off, still shocked, his eyes glued to her as it was incapable of blinking. he shook off the thought, “i didn’t know you raced.” he smiled. “i—“ cut off by annabeth, she slinged her arm around (name), “(nickname)’s an amazing racer.” leo cocked a brow, the side of his lips twitching into a smirk. “amazing racer huh?” he tilted his head to her. (name) flushed, “i wouldn’t say amazing. but i do love racing.” she beamed again, now hugging the helmet with both her hands.

the noise of what a horn would make echoed across vegas, “racers!” the mc’s voice. “oh titan, we gotta go.” jason spoke, quickly hopping in his own purple racecar, right behind leo’s. (name)’s car was beside the son of hepheastus, hers was yellow and white. “they weren’t kidding about the whole sunshine title thing we’re they?” leo teased, running his fingers through his hair as he slipped the helmet on and hopped in his car.

(name), letting out one final giggle, slipped inside. her helmet in place on her head, she pulled the visor up to get a good look on leo’s face through his window across her. she winked through her visor, “they don’t call me the sunshine racer for nothing, hotshot.”

🏎️ ˖*°࿐

THE RACE felt like it lasted two seconds to both leo and (name). but really, it lasted about five laps, until someone had won.

and who won?

obviously (name).

“she broke your streak?!” percy cackled, throwing his head back on the couch of the racers’ lounge. leo scoffed, tossing his helmet beside percy forcibly out of frustration. jason continued explaining the race to frank, as they sat across one another on the small table they shared. “leo was in the lead for about three of the laps— until! ho, ho, ho,” leo groaned softly grabbing a bottled water and chugging it down as he listened to jason’s side of the story.

“(name) swooped! right beside him, totally catching all of us off guard. gods, she’s crazy fast.” frank’s jaw dropped, the remaining take out in his mouth falling out. frank shot leo a look, “listen, she lacks speed. that’s for sure. what she’s got is agility. i’m still the fastest on the track. of ANY track, for that matter. flames got nothing on that eye-sore of a car.” leo emphasized gulping down his water.

percy continued to laugh at leo, the water from his eyes now trailing down to his cheeks as he hugged his stomach, “COME ON DUDE KNOCK IT OFF IT’S NOT THAT FUNNY!” leo threw a pillow at his face, only for percy to be quick enough to catch it. “when you think about it, it is. not only we’re you beaten by a girl, but the sunshine racer who you happen to be in love with for like, centuries.” leo huffed, “i’m— not,” he scoffed, “in love with her.” he crossed his arms over his chest.

“oh yeah, very convincing.” jason leaned back on his chair. “y’all are assholes.” the boys’ racers lounge echoed with laughter as leo walked out with a churning feeling in his stomach.

as soon as leo walked out, continuing his habit of running his fingers through his hair, he caught a glimpse of (name) fixing her car. he strolled over, sassily clearing his throat to get her attention. he could hear her giggle under the hood, “hi leo.” she greeted, keeping her head under to fix the engine. she immediately knew it was the curly-haired racer. “you need a hot mechanic’s help with that?” he tried to play it off cool, looking away. she took the hood down to close it, “i’m okay. i’m a big tough girl.” she mocked a deeper voice, flexing her non-existent muscles. she laughed, leo smiled.

“i could hear the crowd cheer your name. fan favorite?” she asked, leaning her palms on the hood. leo psh-d, “i wouldn’t say fan favorite. but yeah- yeah, i guess.” he teased cockily, “ahh.. you know, i’m the fastest on the track, i got a nice car.. i’m good-looking, all in a days work.” he dusted off his shoulders with a smug smile. “but of course.” she shot him a scrunched smile, wiping her hands off. “why now (name)?” he suddenly asked, “hm?” she hummed. “what do you mean?” she stopped her tracks.

“why start racing now? i heard you have a nice club back at camp with rach.” he shrugged. she smiled again, walking forwards to fix the collar of his jacket. “wanted to see who’s the best racer. but we all know who it is.” she winked again, leo could feel his ears heat up, watching her walk away. “pfft, yeah. we’ll see sunshine.”

sunshine.(name) . .

guess who’s the new fastest on the track!!!

flamingleoval . .

buy me skittles and i’ll admit it

🏎️ ˖*°࿐ end of cp 1 . .

[sky-kiss]

Raphael x Jaheira: Leash

A/N: extremely short lol, but inspired by how absolutely damn unhinged Andrew and Tracy got on a stream. And the gorgeous art they inspired. Holy damn, Red is so psycho talented.

R x J: Leash 18+

Jaheira catches his lower lip between her teeth. “Come now, pretty bird. No songs for me?” 

Oh, he croons, preening for her amidst his sea of lavish silks. He is red. Red like the kiss-sucked bruises on his throat, red like his sheets, red like the wine trickling down his throat, tracking down his abdomen. The half-elf digs her knees into his hips, pulling back on the leash as she might with any well-trained mount. He arches, lower lip caught between his teeth, as she traces the path of the wine with her nails. 

“And in what tongue would you prefer these songs, High Harper?” the devil purrs. “I do consider myself a—” he gasps, hips jerking as she fists a hand in his hair. “ —most magnanimous host.”

Jaheira considers this, fighting back a shiver as he traces the underside of her breasts. She slackens her grip, and he tuts, disapproving, tucking his face in the curve of her neck. Teeth press against her throat, canines threatening to break the skin. She tugs on his collar, and he hisses. 

No marks, aye—that is the rule. Much like any spoiled princeling, he is inclined to break these agreements. 

“You might have surprised me.” Jaheira clucks her tongue. “Barely house-trained. Ah-ah. You do not bite unless asked.” 

He sinks his teeth deeper, and she grunts, instinctively yanking on the collar, binding him. Raphael bears the abuse, tongue lapping at the fresh wound. He groans. “Such a delicious vintage. Why—I can still taste Demogorgon’s fury on you.” 

She laughs, tipping her head back to grant better access. Ah, but let him have this indulgence. Jaheira leads him in a lazy rock, pleased by the way his hips judder when she squeezes him—greedy boy. 

“Ah, you would drink from me, then? How generous.” 

Raphael tweaks her nipple with his thumb. “Behave, Harper. Even these mighty new friends would struggle to wrest you from my claws—should it strike my fancy.” 

She pats his cheek, fighting back a groan of pleasure as she takes him deeper. Raphael’s left-hand settles over hers, still gripping the leash. He presses her back and draws the collar tighter, and it’s all the permission Jaheira needs to push them further. Her free hand settles on his sternum, pushing him back, making him snarl, jerking against this binding.

“Oh, beautiful boy,” she croons, pressing her thumb to his lower lip. “You believe I’d need them?” 

He thrusts up into her, long lashes fluttering over his cheeks—he is beautiful. Pleasure coils low in her belly as she wraps the leather around her forearm. Raphael grasps the leash and pulls her down to him. Until they press chest to chest, pace erratic as the half-elf rides him. This joining is a savage thing, teeth bared, swallowing each other’s air as they chase their pleasure. Jaheira finds it…well, it is the simplest sort of exchange. 

She strokes his hair in the aftermath, pleased when he presses a glass of fine wine to her lips. They are the sort to linger in the afterglow, neither embarrassed by their nudity. Both are old enough to welcome this…calm. 

Raphael digs his finger into the small of her back, honey-colored eyes glittering with mischief. “You will convince dear Tav to reconsider my offer?” 

She scoffs. “As if they would listen! These heroes will do as they please. You know this.” 

“I know this.” He licks the marks he’s left on her throat. “But the devil will have his due.”

[wroteclassicaly]

ok since we’re being dirty filthy whores….. i want eddie pissing INSIDE me, making me hold it, releasing it on the toilet myself.

You… have no idea what you’re asking of me. My residency on hell road is solidified. I tweaked this a bit, so I hope you don’t mind? :P

Filth is below the cut! Obviously we are gonna have watersports, so… Master kink too! This is pretty intense, be warned, lol.

~*~

You really didn’t mean to be a brat all day, it just… well, it happened. Combine that with the stress you’ve been under lately and you’d sort of taken it all out on Eddie. He had raised a chocolate brow, a look of incredulous wonder painted on his defined features. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and tutted, then told you to ‘get the fuck in the van and keep your mouth shut.’ You knew Eddie would never be so casually mean with you, not purposely. And his tone suggested where it was headed.

And that is how you’re in your current predicament, laid out in the back of his van on several old blankets, accepting another water he’d given you without any protests. You’d stopped begging him to let you pee an hour ago. He’d driven you to a clearing out near Lover’s Lake after filling his cooler full of sodas and waters, a sneer on his plush mouth, a plan in his devious, curly little head. Eddie crushes a can of Coke in his fist, tossing it behind your head, furthering his vehicular clutter. You whine and shift, pressing your tight clad thighs together.

For a fleeting moment, as Eddie turns to look at you in the Autumn breeze, his hair billowing out behind him, you think he’s going to give you a break. When his chocolate irises give way to dilating pupils, your stomach sinks into your cunt. He lets his hand slide down against the growing swell in his denim jeans, snapping his fingers at you. “Everything from the waist down comes off. Now.”

You know better than to protest him, that look in his eyes shaving off any remaining color his irises hold. It’s embarrassing that you’re this wet through your leggings and they cling to your soaked panties, that also pull off strings of your arousal when you tug them down and place them behind you, the cool air making you tighten your muscles and close your legs automatically to resist that urge in your bladder. Eddie shakes his head as he’s shrugging out of his leather jacket and denim vest, throwing beside your head, undoing his belt.

“Spread your legs for me and lay back.”

This time you can’t hide your nervous whimper, an ache slicing through your tummy. You bite into the top of your lip and nod. “Yes, sir.”

Eddie’s stance shifts, his cock rock hard. It’ll be less difficult for him since he’ll be inside of you. He can’t contain the words that flow off his delicious lips. “I’m gonna fill you so fuckin’ full of my piss that you’re gonna cry.”

You choke on a soft cry, Eddie briefly faltering, raising a brow as he tilts his head. “That… good? Okay?”

You throw caution to the wind, eager to have something this filthy occur between you and Eddie. Without being asked you edge your ass on the end of the van floor, still on the blankets but hovering over the dirt below. You fall back, chest heaving with pained breaths, heart beat rushing through your ears, drowning you in static. Eddie steps into the space between your thighs, truly seeing how soaked you are, his doubts about your want for the situation become obliterated. He’s surprised at how gone his voice is when he rasps out his next sentence, thumb slicking down the soaked seam of your cunt. “Fuck, sweetheart. Someone really wants to be filled with her master’s piss, doesn’t she?”

“Please, baby.” You whine, gone, tears gathering in your eyes.

Eddie shushes you and finally pushes down his pants and boxers, his cock flushed and ready for you. He grips around the base, slapping your clit with it. You can’t see anything from your position, choosing to feel what he’s bestowing upon you. Still, he checks in.

“Gonna put my cock in now, yeah?”

You simply moan in response, widening your thighs, exposed more than you’ve ever remembered being as your feet plant into a prop on the bumper of Eddie’s van.

He slides in easily, a squelch echoing in the vast expanse of the woods surrounding you. Your hands fists into the blankets at your sides, Eddie pushing it until his full balls are nesting at the globes of your ass. He bends to meet you, kissing your chin in a stretch of his lanky body, shirt riding up and exposing his happy trail. You open your eyes to watch his hand slide into your sides and brush his fingers along your cheek, whispering into the cove of your mouth, pausing to give you time to adjust. “You’re so fuckin’ wet, you know that? M’ proud of you, princess. Doin’ so good taking me, holding it.”

“Eds, I don’t think I can much longer.” He drinks in your soft sighs and moves himself into the first stroke, both of you losing yourselves into it.

“Just gonna give you a little, then you’ll get filled up, kay?”

“O-okay. So much. Love you.”

“Oh, baby. Master loves his little angel too. More than anything.”

Eddie gives you a few more languid thrusts, that achingly, slippery glide making your toes curl. It’s when he stops that you’re lifting your head in time to see him toss his head back, clench his teeth, nose scrunching, and you’re flooded with a deep warmth. Your mouth drops open as you arch your back, panting, raising up to try and see what you can. Eddie’s having trouble not cumming on the spot, cupping the back of your neck and bringing you upright, both of you watching as he slides out enough that you see his piss spilling out all around his cock and from your cunt.

“Fuck, sweetheart. You feel me using you like this? Pussy full of my piss.”

He suddenly hisses through his teeth as you clamp down on him, trying to close your legs, begging yourself to be good. And he loses his resolve, abruptly sliding from you in a wet plop, his cock covered in his own spray and your creamy arousal, soaking the curls around his shaft. All of his release pours out and soaks the earth, and he steps close to you, beginning to stroke himself, teeth nipping your ear as he leans in close and says, “Piss for me. Fuckin’ do it now.”

Your body obeys Eddie before you do, hand in hand, jumping into off of that pleasurable precipice. It’s a filthy mess when you let go. Loud and a lot more than you anticipated, Eddie growling, tugging his cock directly underneath the spray as he noses your top away from your shoulder and bites into the flesh. He’s encouraging you, nipping, hand drenched and fisting his fat cock. “Pussy looks so pretty pissing for me.”

He lets his other hand slide against your cunt and presses his thumb into your clit, thrumming it fast circles, now nosing into your neck. “M’ gonna cum. You wanna cum with me, princess? Think you can do it while you’re—“ He cuts himself off with a throaty laugh, and you’re a goner.

That coil is so violent, combining with the relief of letting yourself pee after holding it for a while, and you’re cumming so hard that Eddie has to hold you upright by pressing himself against you, eyes wide. “Shit, baby. You cummin’ right now? S’ a good girl for me. Innit that right, princess? Cum and piss all over your master’s cock.”

Your head falls into his shoulder as you literally sob, fucked out and drunk on the haze of lust. Eddie twists his hand and aims himself at your cunt, you stopping once there’s a puddle beneath you, ass soaked, bumper wet, and both of you a mess. He spreads your lips apart as he spurts his release right against your clit with a loud and throaty cry, hand gripping the van door from the intensity of his own orgasm. It takes a few seconds, and he is huffing and moving away to survey the damage, trying not to let his shaky legs take him away. He spots a mixture of translucent cream and piss dripping off your cunt and down your ass.

You are looking at him with your glassy eyes and he recognizes those tears, separates them from anything bad. He leans in for a kiss, then another, nosing your nose with a cute smoosh. “You were fuckin’ incredible, baby. You alright? Still with me?”

“For now.” You manage with a knowing smirk.

[lively-potter]

—moon struck ; part three

— genre ; strangers to friends to lovers, kinda grumpy x sunshine, fluff, angst, smut, angst with a happy ending 🥹

— warnings ; body insecurities ( mentioned ), eating disorder ( mentioned ), oc deals with a severe amount of anxiety and panic attacks, violence, smut ( later ), FLUFF, love struck jungkookie 🥹

— find me on Wattpad ; LivelyPotter

— word count ; 1.5k

— intro , part one, part two

— 2024 © LivelyPotter

— taglist ; @ahgasegotarmy116 @jk97bam

***

river's pov ; the next day

I liked having a sense of complete control over my life and the things I did.

It wasn't completely true, but I pretended I did anyway.

Carefully holding the icing bag, I gently squeezed the bag and started moving my wrist in a circular motion to perfectly swirl the rainbow buttercream icing along the outside of the red velvet cupcake, I smiled to myself.

I had complete control when baking and decorating delicious treats – sometimes I messed up the measurements, but that was rare.

Poking my tongue out, a gesture I did to steady myself, I carefully crafted petals along the inside of the rim and soon enough, I had a perfect rainbow-colored flower.

"Oh damn!" a familiar voice exclaimed from behind me, making a squeak leave my lips the moment my brother, Brandon, reached in front of me and snatched the final cupcake from my hand. "These look good, Pixie–Mhm, and taste good too."

Cringing away from the man in front of me, a piece of red cake came out of his mouth and hit my nose. "Ew! Brandon!" I screeched out a laugh and he took my short – pixie-like frame, hence the nickname – and gave me a noogie.

"Dude!" I pushed him away, "Wern't you the one who taught me to chew with my mouth closed?"

Brandon watched me, amusement notching his brow as his cerulean blue eyes – that matched mine and Corey's – glinted in amusement. His big hand, dotted with black oil that he more than likely got from tweaking his motorcycle, ruffled through my hair and grinned wolfishly.

I rolled my eyes and giggled, turning back around to place the baked treats in a glass cake dish.

"Sooo..."

"You going to scold me for running again?" I cut him off, my three-month-old Australian shepherd, Kingston, yipping happily at my feet once I finally leaned down and gave him a pet along with a small dog-friendly baked treat.

"No," Brandon walked to the other side of the counter and braced his hands on the counter, looking down into my eyes. "I'm not going to judge you for it. That's Corey's job." he snickered, a soft smile coming upon his face.

I softened my defensive stance and quirked my lips. "Really?" I laughed along with him before becoming more serious. "It's just...instinct. Plus, he's scary."

"I know right!?" my older brother agrees, taking on his pale hair, "That dude just gives off that 'look at me the wrong way and I'll fuck you up', and I'm not going to lie and say I'm not intimidated by him. The dude's taller than me and that's saying something. A fucking beast, that man is, ya know?"

"Exactly," I snorted – before I met Jungkook, my brothers were the tallest men I'd ever encountered – besides Silas that is. And Jungkook was a good inch maybe even two inches taller than my brothers.

"But he's really nice...and gentle when he speaks." and that face is nice. That body is nice. And oh god, even his voice is like heaven on earth – wait...what was wrong with me? I shouldn't be thinking this.

I avoided Brandon's eyes once shuffling was heard at the front door. I swallowed past the lump in my throat and forced a tiny smile.

"I understand you not wanting to get close to him," Brandon ignored the apartment door opening and clenched his jaw. "The man's got baggage...and you're so young to be tied down to all of that."

I jerked back.

Baggage?

What in the dingleberries did he mean?

Moon?

"Moon is not baggage –" I went to argue but I was cut off as an energetic Atlas hollered happily, entering the kitchen.

"Oh hell yes! CUPCAKES!" he squealed like a child, the longer tufts of his dark hair falling into his eyes once he skirted past me.

I threw back and laughed as Brett followed after him – dressed entirely in black but her Gucci golden belt tied the entire outfit together as she threw her arms around me and smirked.

"So tell me what happened last night when that Jungkook picked up Moon!" she said, pulling me from the kitchen. I fought against her playfully as a blush arose on my face at the mention of Jungkook.

Brett would grill me for hours until Mr. Blackbourne or North ordered her to get her butt back home.

Since her accident a year ago; they'd been hesitant to allow her out of their sight, but since I had their full trust, and respect hopefully, the Blackbourne Team trusted me to keep her safe.

Brett's blonde hair smacked me across the forehead as she twirled around and threw her curvy body across my lavender bedspread.

"ATLAS!" she let out a shout at the same time I jumped a foot in the air and slightly glared at her for scaring me. What was with all of these people and scaring the life out of me?

She sent me a 'sorry' look, "Your bitch ass better save me one of those cupcakes or I'll tell Wil to beat your ass the next time you're looking to get fucked!"

"Oh my god." I whimpered into my hands, falling onto the bed.

Yes, this was my life.

***

third pov ; jeon jungkook

"This looks great, man! Thanks!" a man around Jungkook's age exclaimed happily, observing the large tattoo of a dragon with green highlights along the curve of his calf. "This looks sick!"

Jungkook held in a wince as he stood up from his stool and stretched his back. After hours of sitting down, shoulders drawn down, it was a wonder he hadn't developed a crick in his neck.

"I'm glad you're pleased with it." Jungkook couldn't help but chuckle when he was discarding his gloves and washing his hands once his area was sterile once more and ready for another customer.

Working today was a welcome distraction since he had been in a foul mood when he dropped off his baby at the daycare center – hoping to see the woman that had plagued his mind in the best of ways since he saw her angelic face. He was sorely, and furiously mistaken when he realized she wasn't there.

It was only Sang and Kayli there today. No River.

Jungkook rubbed a tattooed hand across his face and let out a sigh as his client left the room and he plopped down on the sofa across the room and stretched his sore muscles.

He wasn't the only one who was severely upset by River's absence, but his little Moon was too. Crying a river — pun intended.

He had hope, since yesterday evening — since they had spoken ( it wasn't enough, in his opinion ), that she would be there.

He hoped she would smile for him today.

Took him forever to calm his baby enough for her to allow Sang to pluck her from his caring, protecting arms.

A smile rose on Jungkook's lips when he eyed the clock on the wall.

But he did get one piece of usable information from River's best friend.

River had been busy getting three dozen cupcakes and other treats completed for a birthday party tomorrow, and later today – at exactly 2 pm, she would visit the library, as she did every Tuesday.

"Hey, Cherry?" Jungkook suddenly called out, jumping to his feet, "Can you reschedule my 2 o'clock appointment to tomorrow?" he asked his secretary, a middle-aged kind women covered in tattoos of all kinds.

She perched her hot pink glasses on the bridge of her nose and nodded, "Sure thing, JK." she said, her long acrylic nails tapping on the keyboard. "I'll just give Malcolm a call."

"Thanks, Cherry," Jungkook said gratefully, twiddling with the multiple rings on his hands as he searched for his car keys.

"I got somewhere to be," he called out, already stalking out the his tattoo shop, TATTERED, "I'll be back later!"

Cherry watched the young dad with a grin on her face and reached for her phone.

She unlocked her phone and dialed a number.

"Erica, that boy's got it bad – I'm just tellin' you, girl. He was blushing a few minutes ago when he told me he'd be back later. It's been like this for months."

On Sunn Vale Court, Erica Lee grinned at her phone as she spoke with her childhood friend. "Let's hope River gets over her fear of being in a relationship," she said with a sigh, looking across the room.

"Stage an intervention," Cherry suggested after a moment of silence. "I just pity the poor boy whenever he comes in every morning sad as a kicked puppy."

Over the next thirty minutes, Erica and Cherry – along with Brett, Atlas, and Gabriel – and most surprisingly, Corey, came up with a plan to help out both parties involved.

author's note ; ✨

if you want to be apart of my taglist, just let me know! As always, thank you so much for reading, and enjoy! I'm grateful for all of you <3

[thejessc0de]

Do you have any tips for someone who is trying a more realistic aproach for their art style? your painting and lighting are so good that I had to ask 🤠

Thank you!

So this question is actually pretty hard to answer, mostly because I still consider myself a beginner/hobbyist, and I'm pretty sure a lot of my technique comes from the ~5 years of classical art training I received in middle school and high school, and that's so fuzzy I can't tell what's intuition or muscle memory! I can go over some of my workflow/thoughts though and hopefully some of it is useful!

The first thing is that for realism, You. Need. References. It is impossible to replicate the level of detail in a realistic painting without a reference. I usually pick a reference, try to draw that reference exactly, and once I have the proportions correct, I'll change it to match the character/scene I'm drawing (move an arm, tilt the head, add a hand, make the eyes bigger, add anime hair etc. haha). Over time you'll get more comfortable moving away from a specific reference and piecing together a bunch of references into something more unique.

Here is an example of a recent post that was fairly simple. I take the reference image (link to reference here) and try to match it, and then I change it to match the character details, in this case, Kashimo.

As for the lighting, when I first started, my colors were a mess! I already know basic color theory which helps, but it didn't help enough haha. What I think helped me learn the quickest was color picking - in krita you can select a color directly from an imported reference figure. So I'd find a reference that I really liked the lighting on, and color picked from it while paying attention to the actual color I was grabbing (how warm it was, gray it was, what the typical skin tones were, etc).

Later on as I started to learn what types of color palettes I really liked working with, I'd open the reference photo in Krita and tweak the image's contrast and sometimes completely change the lighting and colors. However, at some point I started using it as a crutch and my skills stagnated, so you need to be careful! However, now I've progressed to the point of doing a painting in black and white and adding the colors later (with no color picking!), sometimes even without a reference for the color. This was a slow and painful process, so don't expect things to make sense overnight!

Also, don't forget that you don't have to make the colors perfect in one shot. Usually I'll color things using a color layer with minimal detail and basic color tone (Itadori's hair is soft pink, his hoodie is bright red, etc), and then create shadows and lighting with multiply and overlay layers (blues and purples for night, etc.). Eventually I'll build up the color and merge all the layers together, and then add details in full color. I can color pick from other parts of the painting to maintain consistency. Then to finish things off, I almost always tweak the colors and contrast using filter layers.

Here is an example from that same Kashimo painting, going from black and white to full colors using color, multiply, and overlay layers, and then ending with full color details.

As a side note, starting out in black and white can make things so much easier. When you're only worried about values, you can really focus on shadow depth and the shapes of things. It's so much easier to explore rendering when you're not trying to do color on top of everything! Don't try to do everything at once.

The rendering style I use is based heavily on trying to replicate the feeling of actual oil painting. I use the (free!) art program Krita, and my favorite, most used brush is from a free pack I downloaded from deviant art (here). I use the brush called R T Masked4 (shown below) for basically 90% of any painting I do. I use about 4 brushes total on a typical painting (R T Masked4, that same brush but tweaked to be narrower for hair details, a smudge brush that I discovered maybe 10 days ago that I'm now obsessed with, and sometimes a scratchy brush for additional texture).

One last thing - don't be afraid to use tracing! Block in a reference photo to get the head and shoulders in the right place!! Trace a few hands to see how it feels!!! Obviously don't trace somebody's art and present it as your own, and it should only be rough approximations of shapes so you learn how to break down the body into parts. Otherwise, it won't be helpful at all. I only use photographs for tracing, including pictures I've taken of myself. One of the more helpful things I'll do is free hand my drawing and try to make it match the reference as closely as possible. Then, on a separate layer, I'll trace the reference photo (again, no details, just general positioning/shapes), and compare it to my original drawing. I can immediately see the issues, and I'll use the liquify tool to get things in the right place. I've learned that my horizontal spacing is usually pretty good, but I struggle with vertical spacing, especially on faces. So now I triple check my work for those specific things!

This kinda turned into a book, I'm sorry! I hope some of this is helpful and doesn't sound like the 10:30pm ramblings of someone who didn't get enough sleep haha.

[anonymouspuzzler]

while i've been recovering from my semester i treated myself to making some Updated Ref Sheets for my Special Little Trio! and here they are!! new and improved buck, davey and minnie for your viewing pleasure. there's been a lot of little tweaks and changes to their designs since I first concepted them a year ago...!!

[Full image IDs/descriptions under the cut!]

[Image 1 ID: A digitally drawn reference sheet of Puzz's OC, Buck. He is a middle-aged white man with a barrel-chested, slightly pudgy build, big nose, thick mustache, and mostly-balding hairstyle with a single tuft of hair on the top of his head. The sheet shows Buck standing with one hand held out in a neutral pose and expression. There are three versions drawn: one with him wearing dark green boxer-briefs; one with him wearing a dark green turtleneck, khaki pants, ashy brown boots, and a pair of goggles on top of his head; and one with the same outfit, plus brown gloves and a tan jacket with many pockets and the collar popped, and the goggles now down over his eyes to reveal orange lenses. To the right are detail shots of his head in profile, with his mouth open, and without a mustache. A color guide runs along the top of the page. Written in the bottom right is "BUCK AKA THE INVINCIBLE BULKHEAD. He/Him, Gay, White American (Greek & Scottish Descent), Late 40's." End ID.]

[Image 2 ID: A digitally drawn reference sheet of Puzz's OC, Davey. He is a middle-aged Black man with a lanky build, amputated right arm, diagonal scar across his face, long eyelashes, large ears, thin mustache, thick eyebrows and curly hair in a ponytail. The sheet shows Davey standing with one hand held out in a neutral pose and expression. There are three versions drawn: one with him in just boxers; one with him wearing denim overalls, a tool belt, brown boots, and a pilot-esque helmet with goggles on top; and one with the same outfit, plus a brown glove, goggles down on his eyes to reveal yellow-orange lenses, and a massive prosthetic arm made out of cobbled-together junk, such as a blender, car muffler and toaster. To the right are detail shots of his hair down, face in profile, and the prosthetic from another angle. A color guide runs along the top of the page. Written in the top right is "DAVEY AKA DYNAMO. He/Him, bisexual, Afro-Puerto Rican, mid-late 40's." End ID.]

[Image 3 ID: A digitally drawn reference sheet of Puzz's OC, Minnie. She is a young white girl with a stocky build, freckles, buck teeth, and long red hair in braided pigtails. The sheet shows Minnie standing with one hand held out in a neutral pose and expression. There are three versions drawn: one with her in a pale yellow tank top and purple shorts; one with her wearing a school uniform-style white blouse, pleated gold-yellow skirt, high socks and tan mary jane shoes, with a pale yellow sweater tied around her shoulders and tan fingerless gloves; and one with the same outfit plus a brown shoulder bag, goggles with yellow-orange lenses, and big brown boots with contraptions, including bear trap soles and bottle rockets strapped to the sides. Above are detail shots of her hair down, from the back, her face in profile, plus a color guide. Written in the middle-right is "MINERVA (MINNIE) AKA LAST NERVE. She/her, Lesbian (yet to realize), White American (Greek, Scottish & French descent), Newly 13". End ID.]

[Image 4 ID: A digitally drawn reference sheet of Puzz's OC, Buck. He is a middle-aged white man with a barrel-chested, slightly pudgy build, big nose, thick mustache, and mostly-balding hairstyle with a single tuft of hair on the top of his head. The sheet shows four alternate outfits for Buck: first, pajamas consisting of a white t-shirt that reaches to his navel, dark green lounge pants, and red pull-on slippers. Second, an unzipped leather jacket over a grey hoodie, with jeans, black converse-style sneakers, and a black beanie hat. Third, a lime green tank top with an auto shop logo, jorts, sandals, a red-orange bandanna, and red-orange sweatbands on both wrists. Finally, a "formal" look with a forest green, plaid button-up t-shirt, khaki pants, red socks, and black heeled dress shoes, plus a watch on his left wrist. End ID.]

[Image 5 ID: A digitally drawn reference sheet of Puzz's OC, Davey. He is a middle-aged Black man with a lanky build, amputated right arm, diagonal scar across his face, long eyelashes, large ears, thin mustache, thick eyebrows and curly hair in a ponytail. The sheet shows five alternate outfits for Davey: first, pajamas/loungewear consisting of baggy grey sweatpants and blue slippers, with no shirt. Second, a baggy blue tank top, black shorts with white stripes down the sides, and sandals. Third, a "formal" look with a light blue button-up t-shirt, a red-orange bolo tie, pale yellow dress pants with a belt, dark blue socks, and dark brown dress shoes. Fourth, a pale yellow blouse with a flower pattern and wide, ruffled collar, skinny jeans, and brown boots. Finally, a baggy forest-green turtleneck (which appears to be one of Buck's) with the right arm tied off, skinny jeans, and blue slippers. End ID.]

[Image 6 ID: A digitally drawn reference sheet of Puzz's OC, Minnie. She is a young white girl with a stocky build, freckles, buck teeth, and long red hair in braided pigtails. The sheet shows five alternate outfits for Minnie: first, pajamas consisting of an oversized purple "VILLAIN CON '97" t-shirt with a skull logo, and dark green plaid shorts. Second, a version of her usual "school uniform" outfit, but with her pale yellow sweater being worn instead of tied around her shoulders. Third, a "punk" look with a grey t-shirt featuring "THE SKULL!" in flames, over a long sleeved black-and-white striped shirt, black pleated skirt with chains hanging off each side and safety pins on the hem, black tights, red socks, and black boots. Fourth, denim overalls over a short-sleeved pale yellow sweater and brown boots. Finally, a "formal" look consisting of a sleeveless pale yellow dress with a tan, semi-translucent section between neck and upper chest, and black dress shoes. End ID.]

[Image 7 ID: Two drawings of Davey, Buck, and Minnie lined up together, to showcase their size/height relation to each other. Davey is the tallest, with the top of Buck's head reaching about to his chin, and Minnie in turn reaching to just below Buck's shoulders. The first drawing shows them in their "usual" outfits - Davey in overalls with no prosthetic, Buck in his turtleneck with no jacket, and Minnie in her school uniform. The second shows them in their "villain" getups - all three with their goggles on, Davey with his prosthetic, Buck with his gloves and jacket, and Minnie with her bag and boots. End ID.]

[winter-dayz]

Capable

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader Android AU Genre: Smut Words: 1408 Warnings: sexual content (female receiving oral); strong language

Masterlist | Fictober Masterpost

Taglist:  @soobin-chois

He would be taken to a junkyard. I couldn’t just watch him be thrown away. A perfectly good android like him would be a crime to waste away and rust.

Sure, he was covered in oil. Some of his pieces weren’t properly screwed on, and he definitely needed new clothes and his hair brushed; but, it was nothing a little elbow-grease and effort couldn’t handle.

So of course I took him home.

🎃

It took plenty of time to get him into actual working order, but once I finished, I was glad I chose to rescue him. He was gorgeous. Not only was he physically beautiful, but his hardware was extremely high quality and mostly fully functional. I had fine-tuned any bits that seemed off, but overall, he seemed to be perfect.

I took pride in my passion projects, and he would be no different. Sadly, I hadn’t had time to boot him up, but patience is a virtue.

But finally, I had time.

He stood before me, five-foot-ten of wires, metal, and artificial skin. His hair was softer than mine, and he had facial features to die for. I turned him on, but it seemed to take longer than it should, and I wondered if I wasn’t as good at robotics as I thought.

His eyes flashed with the standard blue bootup before settling into a realistic humanoid version of eyes. The color was a deep, rich brown that was easy to get lost in. His head slowly lifted up until he stared straight ahead. And then he was still, waiting.

🎃

It took some getting used to. I had lived with roommates before, but an android was not the same. He was much quieter when moving around and was not a great conversationalist. He was a great listener though.

But something else was different about him. He seemed rather clingy for a being that was supposed to be without emotions or attachments. Maybe it didn’t help that I had named him… Maybe androids are like pets, and if you name them then you’re doomed to be attached. But I couldn’t help myself.

I refused to walk around referring to him as “android” or “robot” or anything else of the sort. So I named him Taehyung, and he seemed to like it if the tiny upturn of his lips was any indication. Then I worked on helping him with new slang, tweaking his vocabulary and speech to sound more human-like.

But that still didn’t explain the touchiness. It started out with him occasionally laying a hand on my shoulder. Then, he began sitting closer to me when I relaxed in my living space, and he would brush his hand along my back when he passed by me in the kitchen. Eventually, he worked all the way up to resting his hand on my thigh, hugging me from behind, and petting my head.

He was acting like a lover would despite me never asking that of him. I had never seen such behavior in an android before, but I couldn’t deny that it was getting to me. I don’t know what he was trying to accomplish, but if he continued to act that way for much longer then I’d likely let him get away with whatever he desired.

🎃

“Why do you never use me for my purpose?” He finally asked me one night. It was rare that he spoke, let alone without me addressing him first.

“Your… purpose?” I stared up at him from my place on the couch, cross-legged and comfortable in my raggedy sweats and oversized tee. He moved to kneel in front of me, placing his hands gently on either of my knees.

“I was originally created as an android for sexual pleasure.” The words were monotone, but they still managed to send shockwaves through my stomach, settling in the pit of my abdomen and leaving behind an uncomfortable warmth. He had to know how attractive he was—how attracted I am to him. “I heard them say they were going to throw me away because something malfunctioned in my system code, but I can still serve my purpose. I know I can; I just need to prove it.”

“Taehyung…” I began to speak; but, one of his hands tightened ever so slightly, and he peered up at me through his lashes in a way that rendered me speechless.

“Y/N. Let me prove myself worthy of the care you gave me. I need to show you that I am not a useless hunk of metal. I was programmed to provide pleasure for my owner, and I’ve been trying to get you to initiate. However, you have seemed uninterested in my capabilities.” I stared at him in shock, quite unsure how to respond.

Apparently no response was close enough to non-refusal in his eyes, because the next minute his lips were capturing my own. He kissed well, with sensuality and care, and it became quickly obvious that this was indeed his “purpose.”

Taehyung kissed with the perfect balance between firm and gentle—not too slow or fast—and since he didn’t need to breathe himself, he monitored my breaths in order to give me time to catch my own breath.

If kissing him was that magnificent then I couldn’t imagine what fucking him would be like.

His hands slid from their place on my knees and he uncrossed my legs, draping them over his shoulders. He drew the left leg of my pants up and pressed wet, warm kisses up the length of my calf before he repeated the action on the other side. His fingers slid slowly up the inner seam of the sweats until they caught on a couple holes in the thighs—worn down from rubbing together for so long.

Taehyung easily wiggled his fingers into the holes, despite the fabrics protest, and then he promptly ripped the crotch of my sweats away. I could feel myself clench at the action, which he caught of course.

My panties were no match either, which was not surprising after the beating my old sweats took. He stared at my cunt with a hunger in his eyes that shouldn’t be possible for an android. Or maybe I imagined it in the haze of my arousal. Regardless, he didn’t hold back for much longer.

His tongue swiped through my folds, eagerly stealing away the wetness he was to blame for. His lips attached to my clit shortly after, and my back lifted from the couch in response.

He sucked at the button, rolling his tongue around it several times, before pulling away and grazing it with his teeth. My hips bucked forward into his face at the pleasure, and I expected to be pinned to the couch for doing so. Instead, he smirked up at me and dove right in.

His tongue penetrated me, licking along the walls of my insides. His hands squeezed at the flesh of my thighs, pinching at spots that he knew were sensitive. I wouldn’t last much longer at this rate and he knew it.

His right hand slid higher, joining his face to meet my pussy. His thumb rubbed slow and steady circles against my clit, teasing, as he pulled his face away from my hole. I assumed he was going to move on to fingering me, but again he surprised me. He blew cold air directly into me, causing me to clench and squirm at the temperature change. I was too sensitive, but I didn’t dare ask him to stop. I only wanted more.

His mouth connected with my pussy again; his tongue reaching impossibly deeper and curling against the spot I needed most. At the same time, his thumb increased in both speed and pressure until I felt my toes curl against his back.

My hips were lifting off the couch and one of my hands flew to fist at the curls atop his perfect head. My vision went white and dotted with black stars. Never in my life had I orgasmed so hard, so perfectly.

He pulled away when he sensed I was becoming overstimulated, and I could tell he was waiting for a performance review. I could only pant up at my ceiling, still coming down from my high.

“If it wasn’t satisfactory, I could show you some of the other things I am programmed to do.”

“Oh trust me, we’ll be going through all of your capabilities, Tae.”

[tansybengsch]

ok so I think ima actually explain all my pjmasks gacha remakes so yeah LESSGOO

first up carlyyy!!

-She has headphones as you notice. I added them since I thought "Hey if cartoka wanted to tell Carly something from the other room bro can just talk into bros mic and Carly would hear it" besides that I also think shed listen to music while driving around for fun. (These headphones are also used when Carly and cartoka troll kids in roblox)

-I'd like to think when Carly found out abt race car drivers on earth she saw that for some reason a bunch of them wore scarfs (pretty sure they dominated scarfs its a universal rule that all racers must have atleast 1 scarf at this point) so she stole one for herself (Pop off I guess!!??!!???!)

-the glasses were a gift from octobella for her birthday. (She wears them to sleep too)

-AS YOU CAN SEE SHE HAS AN EYEBROW PEIRCING. YOU CANNOT EVER CONVINCE ME THAT HER CANNON SELF WOULDNT WANT PEIRCINGS. I STAND BY THIS.

-that bandage on her leg is not just for fasion purposes but also protection for a recent injury that she got while driving and accidentally crashing (Cartoka tried getting her to put the damn bandage on but she was kicking, screaming, fighting for her life since she didn't want to put it on. Cartoka was so tired he just tied the bandage over her pants 😭)

And that's it for Carly! If u got any questions for her design just ask

Next up is the icon, the legend, the moment, the queen herself. Octobella 😍😍

-I gave her double ears cuz HELLOOOO she's literally a fish (well she's an octopus but still) HER EARS LOOKING LIKE FINS IS SUCH A VIBE.

-Id like to think she's really crafty (POP OFF QUEEN 🥰🥰😍😍) SO all her clothes are made from stuff she found while searching around in her moat or stuff she stole.

-OK SO U SEE THE BACK PART OF HER HAIR?? My headcannon is she has hydrokenisis!! This is a useful skill when it comes to fighting but alsooo she uses it to make her hair (Or tentacles) to look more fluffy and fuller (MERFOLK BEAUTY HACK FR 🥰🥰😍😍‼️‼️🙏🙏)

-"WHY DOES SHE HAVE LEGS??" Glad u asked. Remember that episode where octobella changed herself into gekko? Yeah I'd like to think she has multiple forms she uses to make her life easier. This is one of them!! This is her half human half octopus form!!

-The stars on her hair?? Dead star fishes 🥰

-that yellow thing on her head?? Coral she kept alive w magic

-the crown??? Thats a necklace she made that she kinda didn't like as a necklace so she's wearing it as a drooping crown.

And that's it for my girl bells!! If u have any questions let me know.

MY NEWEST CREATION GEKKO!! OK LESSGO

-First off the clips in his hair all have a specific reason of being like that

-the sun flower is bc he likes gardening

-the cat one was a gift from catboy

-and the pumpkin is to remind him of the pumpkins he raised that orticia took 🥰

-as a dancer myself (I'm a ballet dancer) we wear legwarmers so our legs don't get cramps AND LOOK AT THAT GEKKO IS ALSO A DANCER SO THAT GIVES ME AN EXCUSE TO ADD LEGWARMERS.

-he got sick of only the color green so he dyed some parts of his hero costume (He kinda regrets it)

He has a hood to cover his identity instead of a mask now!! (This is bc I genuinely start tweaking when I can't give a character eyebags and adding a mask would equal no eyebags so ☠️)

AND THATS IT FOR GEKKO IF U HAVE ANY OTHER QUESTIONS ABT HIS DESIGN ASK AWAYY

[queenofthedisneyverse]

When will my life begin - Chapter 1; El camaleón desaparecido au

Words; 3k

Chapter 2

Camilo POV

I shot up in a cold sweat, panting and looking around with wide eyes. That dream happened again…sigh. I can never seem to get a break from it. And it’s always the same old thing. People are chasing me with weapons…

I take a deep breath and shake my head. Get over it Milo, you have chores to do! So, at a quick pace I get out of bed and stretch my back and arms. A good night's sleep to say the least.  My feet meet the soft and fluffy chameleon slippers mi hermana made for me and I smile softly at the texture. 

7 A.M the usual morning lineup!

Behind me, a little yawn could be heard. I turn around and see my pet Chameleon Pepi perched up on my pillow. Her green eyes meet mine and I smile wider. 

“Hola Pepi! Did you sleep well?” I softly pet her small head and pick her up. 

She nodded and stretched as well. 

“Good, now let’s get ready for the day” I say cheerfully as I sit her down on top of my dresser and rummage through the drawers. I pick up shirt after shirt, all of which I’ve worn already. Sigh, guess I’ll have to borrow my sister's old ones again or make more. 

No matter, I know which shirt to go with. In the very bottom drawer, I pull out a multicolored shirt. All the colors of the rainbow. Red, orange, yellow, teal, navy blue, tiffany blue, light purple, dark purple, and magenta. 

I don’t know why I like these colors specifically…they just feel so familiar. And not in a ‘these are just colors of the rainbow’ sort of way. In a way that…I don’t know how to describe it…they just feel familiar. 

Any who, I put the shirt on and straighten it out. I smile lightly and search for some pants and my pink rauna. After that’s all done I look at myself in the mirror and twirl. I can’t look at it for too long though…this damn scar. 

I’ve always had it. From the top of my scalp, down my eyebrow to eye, to the bottom of my jaw. My mamá said she found me with it at the bottom of a river….that’s when she took me in of course. 

I can’t stand it. It makes me ugly…or at least…that’s what Marcela says. And she’s not wrong, it’s hideous. Not to mention I’m partially blind because of it. I hate it! And Marci or Mama won’t even let me use makeup to cover it up. 

Emilia doesn’t use any so she doesn’t even have some I can borrow…not that I ask her to buy any for me either. 

Any who! I snap myself out of it and search for my sandals. Once I find them under the bed I grab them and put them on. As comfortable as ever…but I may need to tweak them, they feel small. 

I felt like something was missing, though I couldn’t remember what. I scratch my head and feel the curls under my fingers.I look around  Oh that’s right, my headscarf! I search through the third bottom drawer and find it, soon tying it around my hair. 

Pepi squeaks for my attention, her gaze a little angry. I guess I did just leave her there. I chuckle and pick her up, putting her on my right shoulder. 

“You know, any chameleon would’ve gotten themselves down from that spot right?”

Pepi shot an unamused glare at me and I quietly chuckled. “ aw what? did I hit a nerve- OW!” Pepi smacked my ear with her tail. “Sorry! Jeez…so sensitive” 

I walked toward my bedroom door and turned the handle. Time to start the day! 

-

Start on the chores. And sweep till the floors are all clean!

Camilo scrubbed the pink stairs thoroughly. This was one of his many chores he had during the day, but thankfully he had someone to help. His older sister, Emilia, always helped him. If he had to sweep the floors, so would she. If he was tasked to cook dinner, she would help him prepare it. 

She, as well as his mother and other sister, have been there since he could remember. Emi taught him how to sew, how to cook, read, math, just anything she could seeing as he wasn’t allowed out past the mansion gates.

“Hey emi?”

Emilia looked at her adoptive hermanito. Her dark skin and brown eyes shining under the morning sun shining through. Her fluffy curly hair tied back as she sat on the stairs with a broom in her hands. 

“Si milo?” she smiled lightly. Her voice was always soft and welcoming when he was around. 

“Do you have any old shirts for me to borrow? All of the ones I have are old” Camilo pouted and furrowed his brows as she scrubbed. A certain stain wouldn't go away.

“I’ll see what I have. But don’t you dare think I don’t know it was you who ate the last bunuelos from yesterday you little sneak! I wanted those…” Emilia put her hand on her hip as she narrowed her eyes at him. 

“You snooze, you lose sis!” Camilo chuckled, “and from what I remember. I made those bunuelos, so I have a right to eat them.”

(This is an art trade from @gamerbearmira. It fit the scene so well I had to include it)

“I helped!” Emilia playfully shoved him, causing Milo to laugh. “And there were five of them left, you couldn’t leave at least two?”

“It’s called sleep eating! A very serious and sad condition Emi, how could you not understand what I have to go through?” Camilo said dramatically, putting her hand on her forehead as she leaned back.

“You are so dramatic”

“And don’t you forget it!”

Emilia smirked at him, like a malicious cat “...your on laundry duty by the way”

“Noooo-”

Polish and wax. Do laundry. And mop and shine up!

During tedious chores like these, Emi found a way to make things fun. For instance, when it came to mopping the floors. She and Milo would put scrubbing brushes (with soap on them)  on their feet and twirl around with a mop. They even made it a game of sorts. 

“Emilia is far behind the lucky Chameleon, seems like someone is going to be eating some bubbles” Camilo teased as he sped past her. Cleaning the floor as he did so. Pepi stuck her tongue out at Emi as she was perched on Milo’s shoulder. 

“Oh that’s what you think!”

In the blink of an eye, Emilia somehow gained speed. To be a light tease, she spun around Camilo on one foot. Her leg high up as she looked elegant and graceful. While he was stunned she took the chance to grab Pepi, put her on her shoulder, and push Camilo to the floor. 

“HEY! That’s cheating!”

“Come on Milo, don’t be a sore loser!” she yelled out as she skated through the blindingly pink house. 

La casa Baltazar is a very large mansion, somewhat like a mini castle even. What made it stand out?...all the various shades of pink. Their mother, Gabriella, LOVED the color pink in all of its shades. 

That’s why Camilo’s rauna is various shades of pink. It’s a way to appease her and make her happy. He tried to wear other colors…it didn’t go so well. That’s why Camilo wears the other familiar colors, under his rauna. 

Emilia can’t stand the colors but wears them to make her mother happy. Marcela however, loves it just as much as her mother does. Will wear it any chance she gets…which is everyday…like her mother. 

As the child slowly got off the floor, slipping many times in the process, he managed to catch up to her. But she was already to the finish line. In other words the kitchen. 

“You lose! You owe me YOUR desert for the next week” Emilia laughed heartily

Camilo stuck his tongue out at her and took Pepi back. He eyed Pepi and she just gave him a smug smile. “You're a traitor, you know that? You could’ve at least put your tongue in her ear. Like you ALWAYS do to me whenever I wake a second past seven”

“Oh don’t be mad because she likes me more than you!” Emilia giggled as she sat down at the kitchen table and took the scrub brushes off her feet. 

Pepi decided to be petty and stuck her tongue in her ear. She knew he hated it, that’s why she did it. The small creature could only do so much with her body so she had to have her fun in some way. 

“AGH, PEPI!”

Sweep again and by then it’s like 7:15! 

8:56 struck on the clock and so far seven chores have been accomplished. There’s more but it’s still an accomplishment. Now it was time to make breakfast. Something simple and fast of course. Their mother or sister didn’t make any requests, so they just chose anything.

“How about changua?” Camilo asked with bright eyes. It’s his favorite and easy to make. 

“Meh, sure,” Emi shrugged. Who was she to deny him his favorite thing in the world? And it’s not like he asked for it all the time. 

Changua is a typical breakfast in Bogotá, the capital of Colombia. It's a soup made with milk, scallions, bread, cilantro and eggs. Together, Emilia and Camilo did their own tasks to make the meal be done quicker…even though the dish itself barely took six minutes. 

Emi Placed the milk and water in a medium pot and brought it to a boil. Cami added the onion, salt and pepper and let it cook for three minutes. Emi reduced the heat to medium and added the eggs without breaking them.

After the eggs cooked for three minutes, and both siblings were done chopping up cilantro and scallions, added the ingredients in. 

Some familiar mice crawled from under the bottom drawers and approached Camilo with squeaks. One had a small shirt with a teal blue s and the other had a red bow on its tail. Lolo and Mira! The two little mice Camilo liked dressing up. Milo smiled and took a bread slice from the bread box, broke it apart and handed it to them.

Pepi glared at the two mice. She only liked it when Camilo was paying attention to her. 

“Hey girls! It’s funny you two always show up when it’s food time.” Camilo chuckled as he watched the two scamper off with the bread slices. 

Emi rolled her eyes and shook her head, “Hey, Dr. Doolittle! Help me set the table” 

Camilo did just that and made some black coffee for his mama. He knows how irritated she can be in the morning. By the time Emilia finished pouring soup in the fourth bowl Gabriella and Marcela walked into the kitchen looking as elegant and snobby as ever. 

“Morning mama,” Camilo and Emilia said. Though Camilo sounded a little more chipper than her. 

“Where’s my coffee?” Gabriella said, pinching her nose bridge. Camilo quickly came up to her and gave her the coffee.

“Here you go mama. All black with a little sugar, just how you like it”

Gabriella gave milo a sickeningly fake smile as she took the coffee from him. Oh how she hated him…she hated that he belonged to a family that inherited magic...but decided to never show it. Camilo was a people pleaser by nature and Gabiella knew it. That was the only reason why she was “nice” to him.

She always gives him reasons to please her and if certain needs weren’t met, she would pull crocodile tears to make him do it right. Or just fake being upset. It always works. Gabriela would remain on an in-between spectrum of “I’m not disappointed but I’m not proud either” when it came to him. 

“Thank you mijo” she patted his head and quickly shut the smile off. Fully knowing Camilo felt like he did something wrong because of it. 

“Are we seriously having changua for breakfast?” Marcela scowled as she pushed the bowl away from her.

“Yeah, what of it?” Emi shot her a glare, Marcea shot a glare back. 

“Now now ninas, no need for that. I’m sure that Camilo or Emilia can make something else for you" Gabriella said with a voice as sweet as honey. She knew good on well what she was doing.

Emi's widened, "Say what now?!"

Camilo's smile almost dropped but he held it together "I- I guess so. What would you like marci-"

"I would like something else as well" Gabriella added

"Oh well...alright. What would you both like"

He is seriously not about to fall for this, Emi thought.

"I want Huevos Pericos" Marcela said proudly, "And don't burn the eggs!"

" Caldo de Costilla for me," Gabrilla said as she sipped her coffee. 

"Are they serious?! Huevos pericos is easy but Caldo de Costilla takes about 40 minutes to an hour to make. And both these pendeja's know we've been doing nothing but chores all morning" Emilia thought.

Camilo's hands clenched into a fist but he kept a smile, "No problema mama y hermana, right away!" 

oh hell no

"NO!" Emilia shouted. Earning a look of confusion from all three of her "family" members. She cleared her throat and straightened her posture, "I mean, I'll do it! Camilo, you have to go feed the animals anyway"

"Oh but Emi, don't you remember? You have a date with Carlos Santiago today, can't have you being late can we?" Gabriella announced. Her sinister smile was evident as she drank her coffee. 

"oh...right" Emilia's whole body deflated as she sat down in her chair. Carlos was a reminder she had NO control over her life...great. 

"You go meet him, he should be her in-" Gabriela looked at the clock on the wall. It was 9:25 "About five minutes" 

Camilo saw her deflation and put his hand on her shoulder, "It's okay, you can go. I got this!"

When will my life begin?

After all Camilo was done making a second breakfast, he was told to give the Changua to the pigs. Guess he won't be having that for later. Speaking of farm animals, this was his eighth chore. Feed the chickens/take the eggs, pigs, horses, and lastly the donkeys. The stables and coop was on the farther left end of the mansion, a little behind it. 

He always went to the chickens first, paying a visit to his favorite and wildest hen, Isa. She never liked her coop/flock and would always follow Camilo around. And because of that, she became one of his few animal friends. Much to Pepi's dismay. The other chickens liked him too, just not as much,

The young boy walked up to the coop and opened the small door, "alright come on out girls!"

Of course, Isa was out first. She had been waiting for him all morning. Isa honestly hated that coop...and the other hens. 

Camilo laughed heartily as the hen clucked and squawked around him. Colorful powder still decorated her feathers from her and Milo's "adventure" from last week. 

"Hey Isa, you miss me"

"Bawk!"

"Yeah, yeah I know" Camilo knelt down and hugged the hen, soon releasing her and standing back up. As always during these times, he reached his hand into the bucket and sprinkled chicken feed all over the ground. Of course the chickens scrambled over  and started pecking the ground. 

Once that was done he took a basket from the right side of the coop and crawled inside. There were a few eggs in a couple nests, surely enough to last a week or two if needed. One by one, he put eggs in the basket and came out once all of them were collected. 

Ninth task...completed. 

After that was done he went to the horse and Donkey stable. Both animals shared the same space. He knew the drill. Grab a hay bale and get to work. Hay bale here, hay bale there. Why does Gabriella have three of each? Mostly for animal renting services or just in case they need to go somewhere far. 

Three horses and three mules to feed. All six animals were fond of him but there was only one mule he clung to. 

Lulu or Lu, the donkey. He gave her the name of course. He's not sure why he did, the name just came up once she saw her as a foal. Not to mention the name is familiar to him. She was the last one he got to.

"Sorry Lulu, here you go." He walked into her area and sat a hay bale down. She squealed in delight and trot right over to it. This made Milo smile and pet her snout.  

While doing so, a blue monarch butterfly fluttered into the stable and sat itself on Camilo's nose. He was stunned for a second but was a little happy. When do you ever get the chance of a butterfly sitting on your nose?

He stood still and...remembered something.  A memory...something warm. Comforting and...happy?...the memory was from his perspective. He was younger and coloring on a piece of paper on the floor. A girl was sitting across from him doing the same thing. He couldn't see her face but could see what she was drawing.

 On the paper was a drawing of a blue butterfly. The girl took the paper and held it up in front of her face. This memory was clear as day but also had a dream feel to it. The butterfly was teal blue with yellow spots, similar to a monarch butterfly but different. His heart felt warm...did he know this girl?

In the blink of an eye the memory faded and the butterfly on his nose fluttered away. He stood there in shock. He had a memory! But...from such a long time ago. He surely knew her but didn't know from where. She also felt like...family! Camilo hated this. Whenever Camilo remembered something from his past, the memories were clear but oh so blurry. To take the frustration out on something, he blames his right eye. 

But the beautiful creature left something else in his mind. "The Shining Butterfly Migration". It happens every year on his birthday, December 28th. It's so strange yet amazing! Surely it must be for him. The Yellow butterflies swirl around in the sky all night, creating all types of beautiful imagery. No one knows where it comes from...but him. Well...sort of, it's more of a tingling kind of feeling. 

He needs to see them up close. From the direct spot they come from. It's been a huge need for him to see it in person ever since he was a kid. It was about to be his sixteenth birthday in three weeks and four or five days, maybe...just maybe. His mama will allow him outside to see it. 

With a look of determination, he decided to be quick with his chores. He ran out of the stable and grabbed the bucket of cold Changua and ran over to the pig stable. He whistled out for them to come and five little pigs waddled up to him. Camilo smiled and poured the Changua in the trough. 

"Hope you guys like this!"

Without a second thought, Camilo dropped the bucket and ran off to the back door of the mansion. Then he had to run back because he forgot the basket of eggs. He got the eggs and then ran back to the door again. Once he opened it, he saw Marcela standing there with a bucket of paint. 

"You like to paint don't you?" Marcela said in a bitter, jealous tone. 

"wha-"

!SPLAT!

....Camilo was now covered in red paint from top to bottom. And that was new paint...paint that Emi got for him. Before he could say anything Marcela cackled like a witch and ran off. Thank goodness his hands were spared so he could wipe the paint off his face. 

The most he could do was just breathe and walk inside without slipping. His destination was the kitchen. To wash the eggs off in the sink and put them in the ice box. He would clean himself up and the mess later. Marcela was nowhere to be seen but do you know who he ran into? 

Cami was about to turn a corner. Just  a few feet away from his destination when he was met with-

"Camilo! What on earth are you doing?!" Gabriella looked truly appalled and a little angered at the sight. 

"I-" 

"My marble floors! How dare you walk on them with this mess?!"

Oh no, this was bad, very bad. The last thing he wanted was his mother mad at him. She was barely proud of him as it is. 

"It wasn't me mama! It- It was Marcela! she poured paint on me and ran off" Camilo's eyes were wide with fear. He prayed to God she would believe him. 

Gabriella's eyes widened more and her fury was about to bubble over. "You dare accuse my daughter of such a thing?!"

It's a quiet rule among Camilo and Emi, never mess with Marcela and don't accuse her of anything. Even if it was her fault...which is 99 percent of the time. 

Camilo quickly thought of a way to save himself "It's a prank war! We've been pranking each other here and there. A prank war!..and, she got me this time!" the young boy smiled nervously, truly hoping she believed him. 

Gabriella narrowed her eyes at him. Searching for any sort of lie. There was nothing she could see that seemed like a lie. He looked too panicked and she knew he knew better than to lie to her.

"Hmph! Well, I would like for you both to call this prank war OFF immediately." The older woman spat out. "And clean yourself up!" 

she stared down at him with disgust. And Camilo hated that, he wanted to make her proud...not this. "Si mama"

Gabriella stepped away from him but before she could walk away further, Camilo stopped her. "Mama, wait!"

She turned to look at him, her scowl prominent. "Que?"

"M- Mama, I- I um...I- I just wanted-"

"Oh enough with the stuttering and mumbling, spit it out!"

"...I want to see the mourning butterflies!" Camilo regretted those words as quickly as they came out. 

"oh...do you know?" Gabriella crossed her arms and held her head up high.

Camilo gulped, "Yes. They appear every year on my birthday and...I would like to see them...just this once. I won't ask again, I swear just...please mama. I'll do anything!" 

Gabriella thought about it. Those butterflies happened in the very place she wants him to stay away from...why would she let him leave again?

"Anything?"

"Anything!"

"Hmmm, alright. On one condition. You will do your chores as told BUT...with no help from your sister. You will cook breakfast, lunch, AND dinner for the next three weeks. As well as making your own outfit so you can at least look presentable outside." Gabriella smirked as she stared down at him, waiting for his response. 

This...this was happening?! This is really happening! She's letting him go out! 

"Of course mama! I'll do it! Thank you, thank you so much" He was so excited and grateful. Milo was about to hug her but she stopped him before he could with a single hand raise. He backed away but still thanked her, "thank you mama, I'll clean everything up."

 "And remember, the place you want to go to is a week long trip. You better pack for that as well" 

Ok, so that meant he had two weeks to get all of those chores done, and a week of traveling. That’s fine, he can work with that. 

Camilo's eyes held genuine joy and happiness "I- I will, thank you. I love you mama"

Such a gullible creature he is

"I love you most"

When will my life begin? 

Family designs

Au inspired by @/midcanto

Comments, re-blogs, and likes are appreciated. Feel free to ask questions as well or send in ideas!

[boygiwrites]

Harley D. Dixon 16

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. This is the longest chapter yet! Just shy of 10,000 words!

For the first time in forever, we're blessed with a slow day.

The sun crests over the clouds in the early afternoon, glazing the Greene house and its golden paddocks in a soft, buttery glow. Slow once meant boring, but now it means peace. My Dad's awake now, albeit bed-bound, but he's more or less as healthy as a horse. I don't need to keep glancing at his pale form anymore, watching for disaster. Not having that threat of death lurking around the farm makes the air feel so much clearer. I can finally relax a little. I think everyone feels the same relief. There's one less problem ready to strike at us.

Maggie lets me use the guest bathroom to take a hot shower in the afternoon.

After helping me tape a scrap of plastic over my stitches to ensure they stay dry, she lends me some fruit-scented shampoo and body lotion, assuring me she'll be right downstairs if I need anything else. I luxuriate under the warm water for some time, suds-ing up my dirty blonde hair and scrubbing the dirt form underneath my fingernails. I feel my muscles let go of all my tension in real time. It's the best feelin' ever.

I tweak the water off and step out onto the green bath-mat, face to face with my reflection in the mirror.

Last time I got a proper look at myself, I was dying in the back of the RV. I look at myself again; at my healthy, clean complexion.

"Hey," A girly voice calls out gently from behind the door — Beth, I think. "I got you a spare shirt, if you want. Is white your color?"

I look down at myself. "I'm more of a beige color."

She laughs. "No, silly. I meant... never mind. I'll leave it here for you."

After her footsteps recede down the corridor, I fetch the shirt, close the door, and hold it up in front of me. It's a tight, white blouse with frills down the front of it, and two, tiny puff-ball sleeves that each look a little like a lily-of-the-valley flower. I peel the plastic off my side and pull the shirt on — almost a perfect fit, but a little loose — combined with my blue jean-shorts, socks, and yellow rain boots.

I clomp back downstairs and into Dad's room, where he's trying to read a book he found in the bedside drawer, but failing.

It must be a romance. He hates that sort of thing.

I ask him if he wants to do my hair instead, and he agrees to the distraction right away.

With the window wide open to the smells of sweet pollen and farm life, I sit between his legs as he brushes my hair. I'm just so glad he's alright. He gives me two neat braids, ties them off with my hair lackeys, and then I ask Maggie for a pair of scissors so Dad can trim my bangs up a little. She's hesitant at first, but I tell her that my Dad's been cuttin' my hair since, well, I had any hair to cut, and that he's actually not half-bad.

She lends me some kitchen scissors, and I happily thank her.

I make myself comfortable on the bed, on top of a towel to catch the clippings, and I snack on a red apple as Dad cleans up my out-grown, wonky bangs. He tells me he's rusty, but he does a good job. They'd gotten long in our weeks on the road, but they look much better now.

After my hair's done, I kiss his cheek goodbye and head outside.

I find Carl over by the shed. He's playing on the swing that hangs from the burly tree growing beside it in a ray of sunlight.

"Hey, Harley." He greets me, digging his heel in the dirt to slow down. "Want me to push you?"

I smile, "Yeah, okay."

We exchange places, and he gives me a gentle push.

I can see Rick over by the tents, talking to everyone. He's probably sharing the disappointing news that it really was Shane that shot my Dad, so that everyone's on the same page. We're not supposed to tell the Greenes about this discovery. We need to make a good impression, and having a trigger-happy murderer in our group ain't the best way to achieve that. It's better if they continue believing it was Otis that caused all this, otherwise we're gonna get booted to the streets again. I never wanna go back to living that way. We need this place, for Sophia.

I don't wanna talk about Shane, so I won't bring him up.

Nobody's told Carl about any of it, anyway.

"I didn't even know this swing was here." I say as I enjoy the breeze on my freshly washed skin. "This is just like the one I used to have."

"I never had a swing." He muses as he pushes me again. "I miss playgrounds."

"Betcha don't miss school, though."

"Eugh. No." He exclaims. "My Mom still makes me do homework sometimes. It sucks."

I remember doing all those spelling quizzes and math problems back at the quarry. I don't miss it one bit.

I ask him, "What grade was you in, before?"

What grade 'were' you in, Lori would correct me, not 'was'. It always annoyed me when she did that.

"Sixth." He answers. "What grade were you in?"

"I was in second grade."

"Second grade?!"

"Yeah. What grade did you think I was in?"

"I dunno. Five, maybe?"

"I'm eight." I giggle. "You're twelve. We can't be in the same grade."

"But we're friends." He counters. "I've never been friends with someone outside of my grade before."

"Well," I sing-song, "Now you have."

"Even my cousins were the same age as me."

"Mine were all older."

I haven't thought about my cousins in forever. They're all on my Momma's side, from her two brothers. There was Vicky and Tobias, the twins. They were super old. Like, fifteen. Then there was Hunter, and Lillian, and Georgia. I miss them the most. They always treated me nice.

I've never had friends or family younger than me before. I've always been the baby. Even here, that still hasn't changed.

As I'm gazing out onto the distant cornfields, swinging back and forth relaxingly, Maggie approaches us with a friendly wave.

"Hey, y'all." She smiles. "Havin' fun out here?"

We both notice her, and answer, yeah, at the same time.

"Who built this swing?" Carl asks her. "It's awesome."

"My Daddy built it, a long time ago," Maggie fondly says. "When I was just a little girl. Nice to see it gettin' some use, again."

"I reckon I could touch the sun." I hum to myself, looking at the sky.

She chuckles. "Don't go testing that theory. Your Dad would kill us all."

"You wanna play with us?"

"I actually wanted to ask you guys somethin'. I heard from Daryl just now that you found a walker in one'a our wells today?"

Oh, yeah. That ugly thing.

Carl corrects, "Technically, I found it."

I roll my eyes. "Don't be a smart-ass."

"Hey. That's a swear word."

"It's fine. My Daddy don't care 'bout swears."

"I was just wondering which well it was." Maggie interjects. "We've got quite a few around here, and I don't wanna search them all."

"Oh, it was the one near the barn." Carl says, pointing in that direction.

I ask her, "What are you gonna do with it?"

"I talked to Rick about it, and we reckon we're gonna try using a winch to pull it out. Can't have it dirtying up the water."

"What's a winch?"

"It's like a really long, metal rope you can attach to a car." She explains. "We've had ours for years, and luckily for us, it hasn't rusted."

I bring myself to a stop, widening my eyes. "Can we come watch?"

"Yeah!" Carl enthuses. "Can we?"

"Sure ya can. I don't see why not."

With a small cheer, we abandon the swing and follow Maggie across the field, rambling about all the gross stuff we think is gonna happen.

Everyone pitches in to help clear the well, except for Shane. He's off somewhere, brooding.

At first, we try dangling a chunk of canned ham over its head to see if that'll get its attention, but since canned ham don't bleed, kick, or scream when you bite into it, the walker doesn't want anything to do with it. We realize we'll need live bait, and for some reason, everyone's eyes fall onto Glenn. He thinks that's super unfair, but he is all better now, and he does have the fastest reflexes out of all of us.

"Have I mentioned that I really like your new haircut?" He smiles lopsidedly at me, thinking I'll save him. "Really suits your face."

"Don't worry about it." Rick reassures him. "You'll have four of us on the rope. We're gonna get you outta there in one piece."

"One living piece." He emphasizes. "The living part's important."

Dale drives over the car they're gonna use for the process, while Andrea retrieves a thick coil of rope, making Glenn go pale at the sight of it.

Rick and Jacqui start wrapping it around his body.

"We'll give you the winch." Rick says. "Just try wrappin' it around its neck."

He sighs in defeat, "Let's get this over with."

As soon as he's in the well, he's screaming bloody murder.

If not for the suspenseful atmosphere, it would be super funny. Me and Carl watch from the sidelines as Rick, Maggie, Andrea, and T-Dog work together to lower Glenn into the well with nothing more than a rope looped around his midriff to keep him from falling to his death. Dale sits in the driver's seat of Maggie's Subaru, waiting for the signal to start reversing. There's a mechanical lookin' thing attached to the bumper. It looks like a garden hose, but it's made of metal. It must be the winch. The end of it leads into the well.

"You people are crazy!" His disembodied, terrified voice shouts from below. "This is crazy!"

"We got you!" Andrea calls out.

Rick grunts, "Give us an eye, Maggie."

At the front of the line, Maggie peers in. "Doin' okay?"

"Can't believe I'm saying this," His wimpy voice echoes, "But I need to be lower."

"Lower." Maggie parrots.

They all shuffle forward a couple steps — a couple too many steps, apparently.

"Higher!" He shrieks. "Higher!"

The rope strains against the cobble as it's tugged again, backwards this time.

I chew my fingernail nervously.

"Can you get it around that thing?" T-Dog asks, sweating. "Sometime today, please?"

"Fuck you!"

Me and Carl exchange glances, biting down shocked giggles. This is the first time I've ever heard Glenn say, Fuck.

"How's that now, Glenn?"

He takes some time to answer, grunting, "Living the dream, thanks."

"Just get the winch around its neck." Rick coaches calmly, "Easy as pie. Then clip it onto itself, and it should secure."

We wait with bated breath as he wrangles the walker.

After about a minute, he calls out again.

"That's it! It's on! Pull me up! Pull me up!"

"Get him up!"

"Pull! Pull!"

"Come on!"

They wrestle with gravity to lift him back out the well, struggling in unison as Dale reverses. The winch immediately pulls taut. It creaks loudly, mixing with the sound of the engine and Glenn's panicked screaming to create the worst, most cacophonic song I ever head, and I've had to listen to my Dad's favorite music all my life. We cheer them on anxiously, watching closely in anticipation. The grass begins to split under their boots from the force. Just as the rope is about to give way, T-Dog gives one last powerful tug.

"That's it!" He says, "Come on, grab him!"

Glenn scrambles over the lip of the well, panicked, as me and Carl rush forward to help everyone pull him out.

"You okay?!" I ask him.

"God, get me out." He cringes. "Get me out."

As he lands on his ass, soaking wet from being splashed, the walker is next in line to be pulled from the depths.

It gets caught on the edge of the wall like a thousand-pound pinata.

"More force!" Rick orders.

Dale stomps on the gas, making the tyres squeal.

"Come on, you ugly thing." He goads. "Come on."

As the winch begins to cut into the walker's neck, the growling is hitched suddenly, replaced by choking.

Its eyeballs bulge under the pressure.

The engine revs once more, and Rick ushers us out the way. "Get back! Get back!"

All of a sudden, the well cracks and breaks apart around the walker's fat body as it's dragged out onto the grass. Rick's on it before I can even blink. He unsheathes his knife and sinks it into the mushy, water-logged skull with a satisfying squish. At last, the darn thing goes limp.

We all catch our breaths as he stands.

Dale turns off the engine.

"It's uglier in the sunlight." Carl muses, revolted.

No doubt about that. It's disgusting.

Eventually, Glenn deadpans a celebratory, "Anybody thirsty?"

There's a weak chorus of laughter amongst us.

I stand next to Dale and Glenn, watching as Rick and T-Dog drag the walker off the property.

"You know," Dale ponders aloud, "Did they ever mention how that thing fell down there in the first place?"

Mmm... Nope.

No, they didn't.

"This whole farm is fenced off." He continues, thoughtful. "How could a big thing like that just wonder in?"

"Maybe it's been there since before the fences." Glenn guesses. "They might've put them up after everything."

"No," Dale hums. "I was talking to Herschel about it yesterday... He said it was all built in the seventies and they do maintenance every month."

The walker is silently dumped on the ground.

All Dale muses is, "...Strange."

"And then it exploded!!"

My Dad's eyes widen.

"Just kiddin'," I giggle. "Rick stabbed it in the brain."

"I was gonna say." He scoffs. "Explodin' walkers? That'll be the day."

Dad missed out on the action of the well today, so I decided to recount the whole thing to him after. I left out the part about Glenn screaming like a baby goat, though, 'cause I think he'd appreciate that. He's already got enough humiliation for a lifetime with the whole jerky fiasco.

"You really believed me?" I grin, shaking my head. "Actually, I ain't surprised. If you believe in chupacabras, you'll believe anythin'."

He smirks, "Watch yer mouth, girl."

"Whatever." I keep giggling. "I gotta go now, Dad."

"See ya later, baby. Stay where people can see ya."

Carl uses the situation to convince Rick to let him carry a gun. I don't know why he wants one so bad, but he sure is stubborn.

"What if another walker gets in?" He needles. "I need to be able to protect myself."

"Under different circumstances, I'd consider it." Rick explains. "But for starters, I promised Herschel no firearms on his property."

"But—"

"I've also been reassured that this was a one-time thing, Carl. Nothing else is getting onto this farm anytime soon. You don't need to worry."

"I'm not worrying." He argues. "I'm just tryna be smart, like you guys."

"You are smart. I know you are. That's why you're gonna let this go."

With a great big groan, Carl rolls his eyes.

From over by the campfire where he's polishing his pistol, Shane throws in his two cents. "Might not be a bad idea, Rick."

He looks over at him. "What?"

"You know we're both certified instructors. Plenty of land 'round here that ain't Herschel's. We could set up a shooting range, see how it goes."

I scoff hearing that, anger rising up inside me.

"Yeah, you'd know all about shooting things, wouldn't you, Shane?" I snarl sassily.

There's a very stiff, very awkward pause between us all. It's lucky it's just us around, and not any of the Greenes. I guess I wasn't thinking, but when my temper flares up, I never think before I speak. That's how you know I'm my Dad's daughter, I suppose. Shane stares at me like I've just slapped him sideways across the face. I glower at him; a seething, hurt look I've never directed at him before, one I know will pain him. He knows he's broken whatever it was he'd built between us with this stunt. He's damn right I don't wanna be his friend anymore.

It's so frustrating that we all know what he did, but none of us can do anything about it. He gets away with everything.

At least I can hurt him with words.

Rick sees that I'm getting angrier by the second and puts a comforting hand on my back.

"Huh?" Carl asks, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Carl." Rick warns.

"No, I wanna know. What did you mean?"

"He shot my Dad, is what I mean." I exclaim, heated. "He was gonna leave him out in the woods to bleed to death. Ain't nothin' more than a murderer."

Carl's gaze snaps onto Shane, a look of betrayal skirting over his features.

"It was you?"

"Carl, it's already been discussed." Rick tries calming him down. "What's done is done. It's over."

"Why'd you do it?"

"Listen, buddy," Shane placates, for some reason looking at me when he does. "Sometimes things just happen. Heat of the moment."

"Weren't no 'heat of the moment'." I shout. "You followed him through the woods for hours!"

"I didn't—"

Carl taunts, "You gonna shoot my Dad next?"

"This is gettin' outta hand." Rick intervenes, standing up from the picnic table. "Come on. Let's go cool off. Both of you."

"I hate you." I call out to Shane as I'm pulled off the bench. "I fucking hate you!"

He doesn't even have anything to say. There's nothing he can say. He ducks his head, unable to look my way, and once Rick gets himself in my line of sight, I can't see his guilty expression anymore and I don't care to. I shove Rick off. He respects that I don't want him crowding me so much and opts for just holding my hand, instead, telling me everything's alright. My eyes well up, lip wobbling. I hate people seeing me cry, but Rick's probably seen Carl cry a whole bunch of times. I don't need to be too embarrassed. He would never judge.

He guides us both toward the side of the house.

"Here." He gently says as we approach a trough of clean water. "Wash your face off a bit. It'll feel good."

"I can't believe you didn't tell me." Carl frowns. "Were you ever gonna?"

I splash some water onto my already wet cheeks, catching my breath.

"Shane's been with us for a very long time." Rick confesses, "I didn't know how to break somethin' like that to you, but yes, we were going to."

"What does Mom think?" He pouts.

Rick nods. "She's disappointed."

I dry my face off with my shirt, mumbling pettily, "Murderers go to prison, y'know. They don't just sit around, cleanin' guns."

"What are you gonna do, Dad? Is he just gonna stay here?"

"Do you want him to?"

Carl seems torn on how to answer. "W—Well, yeah, but you don't usually get to choose, right?"

"We do now." Rick tells us both. "Lots of people make mistakes. Shane's definitely made a mistake by doin' this. I recognise that. But things are different. We need each other to survive out here. We need this place to survive. Putting that at risk will be hurting us, too."

"He's sorry, right?"

Rick doesn't know how to answer that one.

"I hate him." I sniff, miserable. "I can't look at him no more."

He gives me sympathetic look, rubbing my back.

"We can't kick him out." Carl worries. "He's our family."

Everybody is someone's family. My Dad's a murderer, and he's my family. That's why I forgive him. I guess that's why Rick, Lori, and Carl forgive Shane, too, even though they're angry like I am. I wish I could have that gene for moving on, but I just don't. Shane ain't my blood.

"Things are weird right now." Rick admits. "I know. But we just have to stick through it for a while."

"Until when?" I demand. "When's it gonna be okay that he tried to kill my Dad?"

"Never." He appeases. "You have every right to be upset with him. I just want to secure our place here, first."

"How you gonna do that?"

"I'm going to talk to Herschel tonight."

"And then what?" I spit sarcasm. "My Dad can have at him?"

"It's tricky, Harley. I can't kick Shane out. I can't kick you an' your Dad out. I can't have you around each other. There's no good option, here."

"When my Dad's all better, he's gonna kill him." I grind out. "That's a good option."

"No, Harley, it's not." He sighs patiently. "Two wrongs don't make a right."

"Why the Hell not?"

"Because I will not allow murder within the camp. That's a line we do not cross. Ever."

"Then kick Shane out!" I scream in his face, as if that'll make him listen better, turning on my heel and storming away.

With anger coursing through my veins, I search the farm for Shane.

He made himself scarce after Rick forced us to give him some space, but I'll find him. I don't know what I'm gonna do once that happens, but the first step is to find him. Maybe I'll shout at him. Maybe I'll punch him in the face. Yeah, that's good. I'll do that. I'll break his nose, just like my Daddy did. I ask Jacqui if she's seen Shane anywhere, and then I ask Andrea, and Beth, and even Jimmy. They all give vague, unsure answers, but they all mention the direction of the back gate, so that's where I go. I'm an arrow, soaring toward its target.

Sure as shit, I find him on the outskirts of the farm. He's sitting in the neglected, tall grass, staring out onto the distant sunset.

When I see him rub the heel of his palm over his eye, I realize he's crying.

I approach him from behind, not caring how loud my raging footsteps are.

When I'm within ten feet of him, he starts to turn around, sighing, "Rick, listen—"

"It's me!" I shove him harshly, surprising him. "And yer lucky it is, 'cause if I was him, I'd kick you out right now!"

Shocked, he faces me with wide, wet eyes.

"Scratch that, I'd kill ya!" I seethe. "Just 'cause my Dad survived, don't make you any less of a murderer! That's what you are!"

"Harley—"

"I don't wanna hear nothin' you have to say, no more." We're nowhere near the main part of the farm. From here, the house looks like a miniature. The sky is open wide. I can scream all I want, and nobody will be the wiser. "I don't care. You can't say sorry for somethin' like this! Everybody knows what you did, Shane! Rick knows, Carl knows, Lori knows, I know!" My voice cracks. "I gotta live with it! With you!"

I don't care that he's been crying. He could cry an ocean of tears, and I still wouldn't care.

"When my Daddy comes for you," I shout, "I won't stop him. Ya hear me? I won't!"

As soon as my Dad's better, this place will become a hunting ground. As long as one of 'em is alive, the other won't stop 'till they're dead.

A flash of violence glints over his eyes when I say this. This was never his plan. If he had things his way, not only would that bullet have gone straight into my Dad's head, but I'd also probably be mourning in his arms right now, letting him replace what he'd made sure I'd lost.

"I did what I did for you." He snarls, offended. "I did it to protect you. You think this is what I want, Harley?"

"I know it's what you want. You're a fucking murderer."

"Yeah? I want my best friend lookin' at me like he doesn't even know who I am, anymore? I want you tellin' me that you hate me?" His lip curls around his biting words. "That's what I want? I'll let'chu in on a little secret, here, Harley. I don't. This is Hell for me, too!"

I shove him again, but he doesn't retaliate. He takes it; deserves it, even.

"You can't protect nobody!"

I smack him again.

"Nobody!"

"Harley—"

"I was your friend!"

"Fuck!"

I punch him square in his stupid face.

He grunts under the sheer impact, his hand going to his nose. He pants, dumbfounded. His fingers come away wet, red; bloody. I stand there, huffing and puffing, my knuckles sore, as he looks up at me like he doesn't recognise me. His eyes are wide pools of incomprehension. I-I just punched him. I have never in my life punched an adult, before. It feels good. It feels really, really good. It feels better than just washing my face off, that's for sure. Sometimes, two wrongs do make a right. I know, 'cause I'm starting to grin, now. Rage, to me, feels like a medicine.

He gulps, blood trickling down into his gaping mouth. He frowns lightly at me.

"That make you feel better?" He asks without venom, as if he's genuinely curious; as if he's got an idea.

"It did." I breathe. "Made me feel a whole lot better."

He pauses.

Then, he mutters, "Do it again."

"What?"

"Hit me again." He shuffles onto his haunches, presenting his bloody face to me like a prize. "Hit me again, Harley. Do it."

I hesitate at first, not believing this is really happening, but then I see that he's serious. He cups his hands around both his knees, ready to be my punching bag. He raises his chin; takes a deep breath. For once, this isn't a trick. This is plain, raw indulgence. The slithering delight of violence is all mine to take. I feel it building up inside of me again, fighting to be let out. I slowly curl my fist again, rearing it back into the air.

I bring it down onto his face again with a dull, painful thud.

He straightens again.

I lay into him for a third time, and a fourth, and a fifth. I think of Dad's unconscious body, the sound of the gunshot, and the way he was tip-toeing alongside death for three whole days. I think about how Shane almost took my Dad away from me forever, and I make him hurt.

By the time I'm done with him, his cheek is already turning an ugly green-brown color, bright blood smeared across his chin.

That's the best thing I've done all week.

He sits back down in the grass, adjusting his jaw, groaning, "Where'd you learn to hit like that?"

"My Dad." I pointedly spit. "Taught me to punch people who are mean to me."

He chuckles weakly, accepting my punishing words instead of arguing. "Well, you got me."

"This don't change nothin'."

"I know it doesn't." He pants. "No matter how many times you hit me, you're Dad's still a fuckin—"

"I told you I don't wanna hear it."

"A fucking asshole." He finishes. "Hell, he's no better'un Ed was. You— You wanna know the difference between him an' me?"

I refuse to answer, glaring at him.

"I have never hit you." He says, knowing I can't argue with a fact. He's infuriating, that way. "Hate me all ya want, but... I've never hit you."

We stay like that for a strangely painful and gaping moment, face to face with each other's honest presence.

In the distance, we hear people calling for me.

He sniffs wetly, bringing his shirt up to clean his face. "Best you get back, now."

"Harley, where'd you go?"

"Harley!"

"Harley!"

As a parting goodbye, right before I walk away, I mumble, "You can't protect nobody."

He doesn't come back to the farm until after dinner.

Rick's a little angry when I return to the farm, but he hears me out.

"I just went on a walk," I fib, hiding my bloody knuckles. "To calm down."

"Are you alright?" Lori fusses.

I smile. "Yeah, I'm... I'm really good."

They glance at each other, but it looks like the matter is already settled.

"Come on, then." He sighs. "Dinner's almost ready."

Lori grabs my clean hand and leads me toward the house.

"You need to reconsider." Rick comes out and says that night, helping the Greenes clear the dining table.

Herschel frowns, "I beg your pardon?"

"Asking us to leave." He sets the dirty dishes down in the sink, and then turns to face him, his arms crossed. "You need to reconsider."

At least he wasn't lying, I think to myself as I finish off the last of my peas. This is him following through on what he promised me he'd do.

"If you saw what it's like out there," Rick continues, "You wouldn't ask. You're a man of belief. If you believe anything, believe that."

"You're putting me on the spot, here, Rick."

He doesn't back down.

"Well, I mean to. Those people out there look to me for answers. I wish they didn't, but they do. That includes Harley."

Herschel glances at me, a soft look in his eyes.

"After everything that's happened," Rick doubles down, "The least you can do is reconsider."

"You're a plain-spoken man."

"I'm just doing what's best for my people." He humbly says. "We've been to Hell and back these past few months. This whole journey started for us when Harley got scratched by one of the dead, right in the beginning. We honestly believed that we were going to have a child's blood on our hands. You don't forget somethin' like that. I know I won't. I know her father won't, either. Now I fear the same thing might happen with Sophia. I know you're a man of good morals, a man of faith. You got two girls of your own. If you kick us out when Daryl's better — before we can have a good chance at finding Sophia — Then this time, I'd say the blood will be on your hands. Not ours."

Herschel is confronted by his words, glancing over at Beth and Maggie, the apples of his eye, as they clean dishes together.

"Will you consider my request?"

"There are... aspects to this." Herschel says. "Things I can't and will not discuss. But if you and your people respect my rules... I will reconsider."

I try not to let my excitement show on my face.

Rick smiles. "We will. You have my word."

Herschel nods. "And you have mine."

Dad's still reading the book when I go into his room that night and change into my pyjamas.

"Dad, guess what?"

He hums.

"Rick got Herschel to think about lettin' us stay longer." I smile, stepping into my sleep shorts. "We might not have to leave."

He lowers the book at that, a sceptical look on his face. "He did?"

"Yeah." I pull on my shirt and hop on the bed, taking out my braids. "You know what that means?"

"What?"

"Shane can get punished, and the Greenes won't care."

As I move onto the second braid, content with this development, I don't notice my Dad looking over me, a dark look in his eyes.

"Baby?"

"Yeah?"

"What's that?"

He grunts as he sits up slightly, reaching out to grab my wrist. I look down at it, only now noticing a tiny speckle of Shane's blood on one of my knuckles. Damn it. I thought I got it all off when I washed my hands this evening, but I must've missed a spot. I lick my thumb and wipe it away.

My gaze averted, I confess, "I punched Shane today."

"You what?" He scolds harshly.

"I punched him a whole heap of times, actually." I say somewhat proudly. "He let me. He said it would make me feel better."

He looks like he wants to strangle something.

He demands, "Who else was there?"

I realize I might actually be in trouble for this, and I mumble, "Uh... No-one."

"Fuckin' Hell, Harley." He groans, rubbing a hand down his face. He drops it, revealing a deep frown. "You stay away from him, okay?"

"But, you said—"

"Don't back-talk me, girl. You know what he's capable of, and ya still went and talked to him."

"I wasn't nice to him, Daddy. I promise. I was real mad."

"A guy like that, it don't matter." He insists. "He gets in ya fuckin' head, Harley. He already has. Do not do that shit again. Ya hearin' me?"

"Yes, Dad."

"Creepy piece'a shit." He grumbles to himself as he sits back, taking a deep breath. "You remember what I did to Ronnie?"

Chewing my lip, I murmur, "Yeah."

"And how you weren't scared of me, after?"

"Uh-huh."

He nods. "Well, keep that in mind."

"Why?"

"'Cause I told you to. Now, c'mon. Time for bed." He lifts up the covers for me, and after blowing out the candle, I wiggle myself in beside him. This will be our last sleep in the house. Herschel reckons Dad will be able to walk tomorrow, and after that, we're gonna get kicked outside with everyone else. I don't mind. I can't wait to sleep under the stars again. Once I'm comfortable, he offers, "You want me to sing you to sleep?"

I nod, closing my eyes.

His soft words begin to fill the quiet room, a pretty echo of an old life.

"Hush little baby, don't say a word... Daddy's gonna buy you a mockingbird."

"He-lloooo, farmer's daughter."

The next morning, I send Glenn an unimpressed look from my seat on the porch.

"Gross, Glenn."

He continues peering through his binoculars at Maggie as she rides up the road.

I roll my eyes and go back to eating my small breakfast of peach jam on toast.

They're going on a run today. Between me, T-Dog, and my Dad's injuries, the painkillers and antibiotics have run out pretty quickly. He's gonna try walking today, so he'll definitely need them more than usual. They're going to check out a nearby pharmacy for more. I asked if I could go with them, but Rick, Dad, and Lori all answered me with a synchronized scolding of, No, so that idea's out the window.

As Lori comes up the porch steps, Glenn startles, trying to hide his obvious spying.

"Oh, h-hey, Lori. Nice morning, huh?"

She raises a brow. "I'm not even gonna ask."

"You got the list?"

"Yeah. Here it is." She hands him a crumpled slip of paper, glancing around, lowering her voice. "And there's one other item on there."

He unfolds it, reading down the scrawled words.

"I wrote it down separately. It's personal. If we could be real discreet about that, okay?"

When he makes it to the bottom, his eyes go wide.

"Uh, s-sure." He promises. "I just need to know where to find it."

"Try the feminine hygiene section."

His cheeks go a little pink, but he nods, "Consider it done."

"What is it?" I nosey.

"Just some lady products." She brushes it off, taking a seat beside me. "Don't worry about it."

Glenn mutters, "Can I ask... Whose—?

"No." She chides.

He nervously gives up on his question. "O-Okay."

Maggie makes it to the front of the house, leading another horse alongside hers for Glenn. He quickly snatches up his backpack and rifle, heading down the steps. We watch as he clumsily mounts the saddle with some coaching from Maggie, which makes us both giggle.

He gets it, eventually.

As they trot down the path together, Lori gives me an amused look. "He's totally sweet on her."

I scrunch up my nose. "Don't put me off my food."

"Sorry," She laughs.

Later in the morning, I join Andrea on the roof of the RV as she stands watch.

Looking through her binoculars, she mutters to herself, "What is he doing?"

I frown. "What is it?"

She hands them to me, and I peer through the lenses in the direction she was facing, met with the peculiar sight of Dale on the border of the farm, kicking a fence post. He continues along the line, giving the next one a firm shake. I lower the binoculars, mildly entertained.

"I think he's investigating." I snicker to myself.

"Investigating?" Andrea looks at me, confused. "Investigating what?"

"He thinks something's up with the fences." I tell her, watching his distant figure move onto the next one. "I guess he means to find out what."

She laughs. "He's gonna break a toe if he's not careful."

I've never known anyone nosier than Dale Horvath.

In the afternoon, Glenn and Maggie return with everything on the list.

Dad insists that he don't even need the painkillers, but he gets forced by Maggie to take 'em, anyway. We wait half an hour for the pills to kick in, and then after some more arguing from Dad's end about how he can do it on his own, he yanks the IV needle out his arm and scoots onto the edge of the bed. With some effort and a few heavy grunts, he manages to get onto his feet, wobbling only slightly.

I cheer him on, making him smile a little.

We trail him out onto the back porch, hovering nearby in case he falters, but he stands strong the whole way.

He breathes in the fresh air. "Almost forgot what real life smelt like."

I pace around the house with him as Maggie and Glenn clear out all evidence of him ever existing in the guest room.

Herschel checks him over one last time and gives him the official green-light to return to life as usual.

We all spend about half an hour pitching a tent and driving over all our chairs, rucksacks, and other belongings to a nice spot on the far reaches of the property, under a patch of healthy, green trees, per Dad's request. It'll make the walk to camp that much longer, but he's willing to deal with it. He makes it very clear that he doesn't wanna be within a hundred fuckin' feet of Shane. Maggie and Glenn express vehement understanding.

"He's like a bomb waitin' to go off, that man." She scoffs, setting the last item, a crate, down in the dirt. "Don't know why you keep him around."

Dad mutters sardonically, "He's popular in the Grimes department."

"Well, if he was in my group," She drawls, "He would've been gone days ago."

"Trust me, I share the fuckin' sentiment." He takes the last bag from Glenn. "I got it."

"You sure, man?"

He grunts uncomfortably as he tosses it into the tent. "Yeah, I'm sure. Don't need no babysitters. I'm fine."

"Well, that's everything." Maggie sighs. "Come back to the house for dinner tonight. We're havin' veggie soup and grilled cheese."

"I think I've had more than enough of that house for a lifetime."

"Half an hour won't kill ya." She rolls her eyes. "Do it for Carol. She made it happen, after all. We'll see ya then, okay? Bye, Harley."

"See ya later." I smile, giggling as Glenn flicks my ear as they both walk off.

Dad settles down in his camping chair, hissing.

I ask him, "Ya feelin' alright?"

"Yeah, baby. Just sore. Start a fire, will ya?"

"Sure thing," I say, turning away into the treeline to search for twigs.

In the afternoon, Glenn and Maggie return with everything on the list.

Dad insists that he don't even need the painkillers, but he gets forced by Maggie to take 'em, anyway. We wait half an hour for the pills to kick in, and then after some more arguing from Dad's end about how he can do it on his own, he yanks the IV needle out his arm and scoots onto the edge of the bed. With some effort and a few heavy grunts, he manages to get onto his feet, wobbling only slightly.

I cheer him on, making him smile a little.

We trail him out onto the back porch, hovering nearby in case he falters, but he stands strong the whole way.

He breathes in the fresh air. "Almost forgot what real life smelt like."

I pace around the house with him as Maggie and Glenn clear out all evidence of him ever existing in the guest room.

Herschel checks him over one last time and gives him the official green-light to return to life as usual.

We all spend about half an hour pitching a tent and driving over all our chairs, rucksacks, and other belongings to a nice spot on the far reaches of the property, under a patch of healthy, green trees, per Dad's request. It'll make the walk to camp that much longer, but he's willing to deal with it. He makes it very clear that he doesn't wanna be within a hundred fuckin' feet of Shane. Maggie and Glenn express vehement understanding.

"He's like a bomb waitin' to go off, that man." She scoffs, setting the last item, a crate, down in the dirt. "Don't know why you keep him around."

Dad mutters sardonically, "He's popular in the Grimes department."

"Well, if he was in my group," She drawls, "He would've been gone days ago."

"Trust me, I share the fuckin' sentiment." He takes the last bag from Glenn. "I got it."

"You sure, man?"

He grunts uncomfortably as he tosses it into the tent. "Yeah, I'm sure. Don't need no babysitters. I'm fine."

"Well, that's everything." Maggie sighs. "Come back to the house for dinner tonight. We're havin' veggie soup and grilled cheese."

"I think I've had more than enough of that house for a lifetime."

"Half an hour won't kill ya." She rolls her eyes. "Do it for Carol. She made it happen, after all. We'll see ya then, okay? Bye, Harley."

"See ya later." I smile, giggling as Glenn flicks my ear as they both walk off.

Dad settles down in his camping chair, hissing.

I ask him, "Ya feelin' alright?"

"Yeah, baby. Just sore. Start a fire, will ya?"

"Sure thing," I say, turning away into the treeline to search for twigs.

We stay in our new little camp until the sun goes down. When I start to notice our people heading inside the house, I put my book down and convince him to come have dinner with everyone. It's only polite. He stomps out the fire, grabs my hand, and we make the short hike back.

When we step inside, the delicious smells of melted cheese, spices, and fresh bread fill my lungs.

"You made it." Maggie's delighted. "Nice walk over?"

"Sure." Dad replies gruffly, way out of his element, here. "This food better be good."

"Harley told me ya like scrambled eggs, so I made ya a portion to go with the rest of your plate. A little present to celebrate you walkin' again."

He seems caught off guard by such thoughtfulness, but he's grateful, anyway. "Thanks."

We make our way into the dining room, where everyone is finishing setting the two tables that they've managed to manoeuvre in here. They've even brought in a vase of wildflowers to serve as a nice centre piece. We take a seat at the table that naturally seems to have been designated the non-Greene table, next to Carl and Lori, who smile when they see us. Conversation is easy amongst our group, but there's not really any cross-contamination between us and the Greenes. This is the first time we've all been in the same room together. It's pretty awkward.

A bowl of colorful, steaming vegetable soup and a side of hot grilled cheese is served in front of everyone.

"We better thank Carol." Jacqui smiles as she hands us some cutlery. "This was all her idea."

"Oh, it was nothing." Carol meekly chuckles. "I just thought it would be a nice way to thank you all for everything you've done for us."

"Well, it looks delicious." Beth says kindly. "I can't wait to eat it."

After Jacqui sits down, Herschel's table join hands and say Grace together. Then it seems like we're in the clear to start eating.

Everybody makes little hums and pleased noises to let Carol and the other women know that the food is good, but nobody is brave enough to try and start a conversation. What do we talk about? The funeral? Shane going crazy? The possibility of getting banished to our deaths?

Eventually, Rick comes up with an idea, 'cause he's good like that. "How about that walker today, huh?"

Our table is clearly up for the distraction, but we're cut off almost immediately.

Herschel frowns. "What walker?"

Oh. He doesn't know.

There's a series of glances thrown around the room.

"There was a walker stuck in one of your wells." He awkwardly explains. "We, uh, pulled it out."

"I'm not sure I appreciate you poking around my property." Herschel says. "You should've come to me."

He nods, looking like he regrets even opening his mouth in the first place. "You're right. I'm sorry."

Another bout of silence falls over us.

Glenn tries next. "Anybody... know how to play guitar?"

"My Dad can play." I offer, poking at my soup.

T-Dog asks, "You any good?"

Dad shrugs. "I'm decent."

"Otis knew how to play."

We all try not to look at Patricia when she says this. She's just made things ten times more awkward for everyone.

It's almost as if Otis' ghost is in the room with us, and we just have to do our best to ignore it.

"Yes, and he played very well." Herschel quietly reminisces, before the silence takes over again.

I take four bites of my grilled cheese before Beth speaks up.

"What happened to your face?"

Shane chokes a little on his spoonful of broth, reluctantly answering, "Oh, uh, it's— I just tripped a little, that's all."

"Looks like you got into a fight." Patricia comments.

"No, that's— That's not what happened at all, ma'am."

Beside me, my Dad glowers across the table at Shane. Rick notices and adopts slightly nervous look, as if he thinks they're gonna jump on top of the food right this very second and stab each other with their butter knives. Honestly, they might.

"You sure?" Dad mocks Shane, a strange lilt to his voice.

"S'what I said, ain't it?"

"What?" He chuckles. "Did ya step on a fuckin' banana peel?"

"Don't start with me, Daryl."

"Daddy, leave it." I grumble harshly under my breath. "Just keep eatin'."

Jacqui suggests a change in subject. "How about you tell us how you learned to play, Daryl?"

"I think I'm good." He scoffs.

The tension grows to be so unbearable that I eventually excuse myself to go to the bathroom.

As I meander down the corridor and pass the empty kitchen, something on the other side of the window catches my eye. I pad over to the sink and go on my tip-toes, peering out into the dark. Over by the barn, there's a short, skinny figure standing in the grass, hunched like it's in pain. My eyes widen. Sophia? Is that her? With a glance back at the dining room, I decide it's best I don't bother anyone, and I head outside alone.

The warm night air surrounds me as I softly call out her name.

The figure groans lightly in response.

I can't see all too well, but I can make out a pair of thin legs, a stringy, knotted mass of hair, and two bony hands that twitch rabidly at its sides. I creep closer, slowly taking in the figure's too-tall height; the way it convulses lightly, unable to keep its balance. The moonlight peels over the clouds, then, splaying out across the silent field. The breath leaves my lungs. The figure is illuminated, revealing itself only now to be someone I don't recognise at all. It wheezes painfully, twisting to look at me with a face riddled in decay. My skin goes cold at the deadly sight.

It's a walker. Of course it's a walker, you stupid girl.

Dale was right. They're getting in, somehow.

I don't get a chance to turn around. All at once, a second body latches itself onto me, knocking me over into the grass. I cry out. Oh, God, there's more than one out here. I try scrambling away, but its cold hands grip my knee and anchor me to the spot. It climbs up my stomach, looking like something out a Goosebumps special. A pair of staggering footsteps approach, and when the second walker appears over the first one's wrinkly shoulder, I let out a blood curdling scream that rings in shockwaves through my skull. I can't take on two walkers. That's impossible.

In the distance, the back door swings open.

"Harley!?" My Dad hollers, echoed by the other men as they bound down the steps.

The walker's large crucifix necklace dangles tauntingly over my nose, shining with the yellowed spit that leaks from the gaping mouth above it.

I grab it, trying at the same time to kick the walker off. Its chiselled edges bite into my skin. Anything can be a weapon.

The walker flails angrily, possessed with hunger.

I drive the cross into its skull. It gives out a gurgling, beaten cry, and I stab it again, and again, and again, only stopping once the bone cracks around the dreadfully blunt end, and it slumps on top of me, dead for a second time. I push the top half of its heavy body offa me, ripping the beaded necklace from its neck with a dry snap. The grabbing hands and loud growling of the second walker quickly replace it.

I ready the crucifix again, but it's hard to aim when I'm seeing two of everything!

Its jaw hinges open above the soft skin of my leg.

Right as it's about to bite down on me, Shane suddenly comes into view.

His knife glints in the moonlight. He rears it back above his head, burying it deep into the walker's face in a swift, brutal motion. Black blood splatters his front as he pulls it out, grabs its shoulders, and throws it angrily into the grass, where it lands heavily, giving out one last croak.

I'm finally able to crawl away, throwing the necklace onto the ground.

Before I know it, my Dad is crouching at my side.

"Are ya bit?" He frantically demands to know. 

"N— No." I shudder. "No, I ain't— I ain't bit."

"What happened?"

"I thought I saw someone, but..."

"You weren't there, Daryl!" Shane laughs loudly, now, still clutching the knife, sounding as if he's just won something. "You weren't there, man!"

"Bullshit, I wasn't!" Dad sneers, standing up. "I was two fuckin' feet behind ya!"

"And that walker's teeth were two hairs away from Harley's leg!" He retorts. "One more second — One second — And she'd be bit right now!"

"You don't know what the Hell you're talkin' about."

"All crippled and beaten, bumblin' over here like an old man. This is what happens, Daryl. You can't afford to be slow, no more!"

"I can protect my own!"

A grin splits his face. "Don't look that way from where I'm standin'."

"My own!" Dad growls. "You get that through your thick head, Shane! Mine! My fucking daughter!"

"And what a sad shame that is!"

You can't protect nobody.

Oh, why'd I have to go and tell him that?

The others finally make it over just in time for Dad's temper to snap.

I think my heart stops in this next moment. In a fit of rage and fire that nobody can stop, he pulls his knife from his sheath, jumps forward, and tackles Shane to the ground. I shriek as Rick and T-Dog hurry over to them, shouting at them to stop it, god damn it, stop it. Blades go flying left and right. Shirts are slashed. Curses are bellowed. Dad mounts his squirming body and lifts his knife into the air, making me squeal in horror. Rick takes a big handful of the back of his shirt, and right before he manages to drag him off, the knife comes down into Shane's shoulder. He cries out in agony, clutching the gash. He's lucky Dad missed in the chaos. Otherwise, it'd be in his throat.

Andrea and Lori throw themselves at the ground near Shane, feverishly putting their hands over his gushing stab wound.

"Oh, you're attackin' people, now, are ya, Daryl?" He goads, groaning through the pain. "You've always been a damn feral animal."

"At least I ain't a fuckin' creep! Goin' around, askin' little girls to hit me!"

"Maybe you should keep a closer eye on her, then, huh?"

Dad rushes forward again, but Rick catches him. He wrestles the knife out his hand and tosses it away.

"Holy shit!" Glenn exclaims, pulling on the roots of his hair.

Dale and Maggie rush over to me, their faces pale and panicked at the scene around them.

"That's enough!" Rick grinds out, forcing Dad backward with the help of T-Dog. "That's enough!"

"You say that shit again!" Dad roars over their heads. "Next time, I'm breakin' your fuckin' neck!"

Jimmy stares depressingly at the bodies. I think he must know who they were.

Carl sobs from nearby, "Dad, what's going on?"

Rick gives my Dad a shove, leaving him to stumble, clutching his hurt side. He reprimands, "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinkin' he deserves worse." He groans.

"So, you kill him? That's your solution?"

"Why don'tchu ask him? He knows all about killin' folk, don'tchu, you fuckin' schizo? Betcher sorry I lived, huh?"

Shane tries to make a retort, but the people around him encourage him to stay calm.

Maggie helps me to stand, asking me if I'm hurt anywhere, to which I dazedly shake my head. We watch as Shane gets escorted back into the house, where they'll probably get started stitching him up right away. He pushes them all off of him, enraged. I can't believe that just happened. I don't think anybody else can, either. They're all frozen in place, eyes wide and darting around for answers to questions they didn't even know to ask.

My Dad slumps down in the dirt, his chest heaving from exertion, head hanging low. He cradles his aching stomach.

It finally happened.

"You okay, man?" T-Dog uncomfortably asks.

Dad spits blood into the grass. "I been wantin' to do that for about a month."

"Well, I hope it was worth it." Rick jibes. "We might lose our place here, now, thanks to you. You want your daughter back on the streets?"

"Long as she's nowhere near that crazy son of a bitch, I'on give a rat's ass where she is."

Rick scoffs, completely done with tonight. "You're unbelievable. Both of you, unbelievable, and outta your minds."

Jimmy pipes up, "What did he mean about killing folk?"

"Nothing. Get back inside." Rick scolds, turning away alongside Maggie to go follow after everyone else.

Then, it's just me, Dad, and Dale left out in the field to process everything that just went down. I head over to him, and he wraps me up in a tight hug that I never wanna leave. Shane's blood stains both our clothes, and I'm horrified to learn that it's all still hot and sticky. This was a total disaster. I knew this would happen sometime or other, but I thought I would be prepared to face it. I don't know what happens next.

This might be the push Rick needs to kick Shane from the group. He must see now that they cannot co-exist peacefully.

After a while, Dale inspects the dead walkers and murmurs to himself, "I knew something was fishy."

He paces along the footprints they left behind, following them this way and that, further and further away.

When he comes up just short of the barn, I frown in confusion.

He tugs at a few loose boards, poking around. He makes it to a crate that he pushes out the way, revealing a gaping hole in the wall.

"What the—?" I hear him exclaim, right before a dead hand shoots out from between the planks.

He steps back, astonished.

Dad's hand curls tighter around my shoulder.

When he calls out to us, his voice frail, I feel like I might faint.

"They're keeping walkers in the barn."

Author's Note.

There's a reason Shane rhymes with insane. That's all I'm gonna say about that 😵💫

Also, I rearranged the order of events a little bit for this one. The way I write this story is I bring up a script for the episode I'm following as well as the wiki page for the season, bc I don't have anywhere I can stream TWD. It was a little confusing having to combine stuff from different episodes, but I hope it flows well. I try very hard to mix canon with non-canon things in a way that feels seamless.

Basically, it goes - Walker in the well, shooting lessons are considered, Maggie and Glenn pharmacy run, awkward dinner, someone discovers the barn walkers. Same outcome, just different.

As always, I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thanks for reading. Sending love! <3

[shaywrites-ifs]

Hi! Do you have any physical description of the ROs?

Vaguely, in my notes. I generally love having visuals and work hard to flesh it out- especially as a sort of artist myself. That said, this time, it's a lot less.

The elotians, in particular, I've been tweaking. They are essentially giantkin of sorts and, what all of that means in terms of appearance I'm been rehashing it with the whole, terrible year that I've been having and mulling over the whole story.

I'll try to focus on this a bit more and make a more proper post with their descriptions, though. Make something final and nice enough for it.

In the mean time, notes:

Camille: dark hair, that brown black color, green eyes, compact athletic build, multiple scars but none on her face, clothes are practical but, if you look, you see they're still stylish or look good on her. Carries 2 blades.

Eiden: gold gold gold, long a dark yellow blonde hair, thick lashes, painted nails, tattoos that cover scars, noticeable around the neck and down the sternum, top surgery scars, dexterous, romantic billowing shirts and tight pants, fancy boots sort of style (when not being an assassin/spy), jewelry

Dalmar: black hair, noticeable silver and grey appearing, waves and curls cut recently around neck length, fights with it a lot, beard/stubble common, angular face, carries a cane with him, dark clothes, gloves, magical scarring along his right side, is it growing? oh no

Leja: big curvy tall, fluffy gradient, lavender and lilacs, flat noses, bit teeth, singular crystal horn, ornate hair styles, veils and flowers, serene, gentle by choice, sparkles, incense and perfume, scarves and wraps, big earrings, slit pupils

Reimer: tall even for elotian, fluff, reds browns blacks, big smiles full of teeth, 2 crystal horns, scarred, casual and shirtless half the time, happy trail, (warrior) farm boy vibes, confused golden retriever vibes, welcoming and friendly

Vasil: treat for the monster fuckers, 4 arms, tail, skin like the night sky, hair falls like veil, glow from the inside out, long tongue, can change their form to an extent, wisps, dragon? dragon, soft spoken, narrowed eyes, long nails, decadent, bored

[smilesrobotlover]

what inspired your Link’s outfits? I love them!

Thank you! I’m not sure what inspired them but I’ll just talk about them (without pictures cuz I can’t 😔)

Sky: I really loved the green color he had from LU, how everyone had a deeper green shade while he had a lighter, more minty green shade (maybe not minty green but sh), so I went with that color cuz it suited him so well! I also like him having his sash so I keep them. His design sorta changed, I originally had him wearing more baggy clothes, but I added bracers and tightened up his clothes a tad. I also kept his green pants from the beginning of the game cuz I thought that’d look quirky. The biggest things were the sailcloth and loftwing feather. I always vibed with feather earrings, and I wanted the feather to be king, but when I actually drew it, it was a HUGE pain. So I removed it and just put it on his belt. And I put the sailcloth on his belt as well cuz I HATE drawing capes lol. Luckily drawing Sky for a bit made me realize what I liked and disliked about his design so I was able to change some things. I do love the diamond thing on his chest. Admittedly LU inspired the design a lot lol, but in the end I kept some stuff for myself :)

Minish: the Minish clothes inspired his shirt! I found his og shirt very bland so I spiced things up with a leafy shirt and called it a day UwU. I also liked him having a headband with an Ezlo pendant at the end, thought it looked cute! And I think I added some metal toes cuz what if you dropped a hammer on your feet? Anyways, it’s safe to say LU inspired a lot of these designs and I’m not ashamed to admit that (LU did NOT inspire this au tho)

Time: I was actually inspired by bonus Links with their oot Link having a vest. I thought it was a cute and gave my Time a more farm outfit. I made his shirt a more forest green and gave him a weird eyepatch to cover half his face, and then gave him cowboy boots cuz I thought they looked cool. I lvoe his pants cuz he looks like a sexy mom so there’s that lol. Also, about his hair, this is an unpopular opinion but I prefer his short and spiky hair 😔 I’m sorry to the folks who loved the long ponytail. I also added some gloves that I think are strength gloves that aren’t ungraded? Made his outfit more battle ready (in the beginning the Links were in more comfy clothes but I didn’t like that)

Legend: oh boy, he probably has my fav design lol. I sorta added this red sash thing to go against his green shirt and I think it turned out cool! And the red accents look dope as well! I’m particularly proud of his boots, which sorta resemble the Pegasus boots (I think that’s what they’re called 😭). Also I love the idea of legend link hating pants so he wears shorts. He hates pants. He’s just like me fr

Hyrule: I’m not sure how much of Lu inspired my Hyrule, but I always ADORED Lu Hyrule’s floofy hair so I kept that. I kinda like his clothes being baggy and casual, and I made his boots a little scuffed since he travels a lot. Idk what is going on with his design tho. I cant think of anything specific that I did with his design minus the boots and turtle neck (I noticed one of the designs for Zelda 2 had link in a turtle neck and I thought that was perfect for Hyrule). Yeah not many thoughts. Just like the amount of thoughts going through his head

Twi: oh boy, I just gave him a shirt that matched Rusl’s cuz it has a boob window, gave him that dumb arm thing, his ordon sash and obi, and just sorta lightly tweaked his farmer’s outfit. His boots are meant to have goat fur popping out cuz I thought that’d be cool. Plus an ordon goat on his design cuz he likes goats. Not much to say

Four: I looked at all the knights from the FS manga and tried to make him look like that. I always thought his braid and color thing was unique and showed the four colors well. I also made his clothes more white and cream colored cuz I’ve seen four Links as white and then go colorful when they split and I LOVED that. He also gets a cool cape. He sued to have more Arno but I removed it cuz he’s still a kid and I hate drawing Armor.

Windy: oh boy, I had to change his design since I aged him down, but I gave him a sleeveless overcoat since there are a lot of overcoats with pirates. I also gave him a pirate-esque shirt and made his colors more deadpan green which I ADORE. I always liked his gray pants and simple shoes so I kept those!

Spirit: it’s just his engineer outfit, nothing special lol. A boy…

Age: idk how I feel about his design, but I mixed the knight’s outfit with the champion’s tunic with a hint of the zora armor and Mipha’s scale!

Wild: I sorta mixed the Hylian tunic with the champion’s tunic. Again, idk how I feel about it but Wild has his entire wardrobe on him so I can just change his design whenever I want UwU

Warriors: made his scarf look more triangle and covering his neck, and added some pizzaz to it, idk.

[hexalianrebel-blackfeathers]

My Body is a Temple; I Just Love Graffiti (Chapter 1/4)

Panda’s Notes:  Technically, this is the first multi-chapter story I started for the Spiderverse, according to my notes. I'm pretty excited to go places with it. Though I admit I might go back and tweak it. >w&lt;

[Ao3] || [Commissions] || [Ko-fi]

[1] || [2] || [3] || [4]

“Okay, gang, we’re done!” Gwen declared as she pushed open the door to her apartment. The boys sort of meandered into the living room, Miles practically stumbling to the couch and letting his shopping bags slip out of his hand as he flopped into the cushions and groaned. Pavitr’s face was torn between a pout and a grin, lightly kicking Miles’ leg where it dangled off the side of the couch.

“Bro, move over…” He chuckled, laughing incredulously when Miles just whined. Miles let out a yelp as Pavitr just collapsed on top of his back, squirming under his weight and trying to glare up at him.

Hobie set his bags down behind the couch, stretching and giving half a yawn.

“So, do you guys want to montage, or what?” Gwen asked, making sure the door was locked. “Dad said we’ve got the place ‘til tomorrow, so we can do whatever.”

“I don’t wanna montage; I’m exhausted…” Miles grumbled, and Pavitr lightly pet his hair to coax a smile out of him. “You just ran us ten blocks from the train station.”

“Well, it was starting to rain.” Pavitr reminded him. “I’m just glad nothing got wet.”

“Can we have lunch first?”

“It’s four o’clock!” Gwen laughed. “And we had lunch already.”

“Yeah, before the five stores and running ten blocks f—”

“Hobie, stop trying to get naked!” Gwen said sharply, grinning when he flinched and paused halfway out of his shirt. “There’s kids here, geez.”

Said “kids” burst out laughing, and Hobie eyed her, somewhere between a glare and plain disbelief.

“Literally all of you have seen me with my shirt off.” He argued with a slight smirk. “Some of ya more than others…” He knelt behind the couch as he trailed off, leaving the three of them glancing between each other.

“You’re a menace, Spider-Punk!” She giggled. “Okay, I—”

“Damn straight!”

She yelped as his shirt hit the wall she was walking by. “Okay, I’m ordering the pizzas; do not let Hobie destroy anything.”

“Feelin’ real welcome, Gwendy, cheers.” He called tauntingly, popping up after a moment in one of the new shirts he’d picked out: a mostly black long-sleeved crop top with colored and glittered stars lining the hems.

“Aw, are you not going to montage with us?” Pavitr asked, pushing himself up to lean on the back of the couch.

“I don’t need a fuckin soundtrack to know when I’m bloody gorgeous, Pav, you ought to know.” Hobie smirked, flicking Pavitr’s hair as he walked around the side of the couch.

Miles glanced up as he came into view, smiling. “You got the crop top?”

“I did. You wanna make something of it?” He sat on the arm of the couch, leaning to press Miles’ face into the cushion.

Miles laughed softly and bat his hand away. “I’m not, but… You got the crop top?” This time, he made his point clear by sneaking a tickle at Hobie’s side.

Hobie flinched and sprang off the couch as if Miles had shocked him, glaring down at him with a smirk. “Okay, you think you’re funny; that’s brilliant. Pavi, help me real—”

He had grabbed Miles by his jacket, jostling him playfully when Pavitr stopped him.

“Hobie! You have a tattoo?!” He asked excitedly.

“What? Yeah, man, I have—” His gaze automatically went to his arm, only to remember he was wearing sleeves. He seemed bewildered for a moment before Pavitr helpfully poked his back near his side. He bit his lip on a snort, flinching away from his touch. “Oh, right, that one’s new.”

He turned to give them a better view: it was a skull with devil horns with a skeletal hand holding up its own “devil horns” beside it sticking out of the drawn-in ground.

“That’s kinda sick.” Miles admitted with a nod.

“Is it, man?” Hobie glanced over his shoulder. “Kind of on the fence about it myself, still.”

“Little late to be ‘on the fence’ about it, don’t you think?” Pavitr teased a bit.

“Heh, not too wrong.” He ran his fingers over it and seemed to check them. “Might wear it another week, but I’ll probably trash it.”

“What, like get it removed? Already?” Miles started pushing himself up, trying to pull his legs out from under Pavitr. “You said you just got it!”

“Wha—? Oh!” Hobie started to laugh, shaking his head as he turned around. “You two think—”

“What did I miss?” Gwen called out as she returned from the kitchen, dropping into Pavitr’s lap with a few water bottles stacked between her hands. Both of them ignored Miles’ uncomfortable yelp. “Hobie only laughs when shit’s going down.”

“Fuck off, love.” Hobie chuckled. “Check this, though.” He showed her the tattoo, and she smiled.

“Oh, yeah! Karl finally got around to drawing that, huh? Looks alright.”

“Oi, you don’t like it?” He gave the fakest little pout before grinning brightly. “These two think it’s real.”

“I mean, it wouldn’t be my first choice!” Gwen laughed softly, only to pause at that second statement. “Wait, seriously? You guys—Okay, well, look, I’ve seen your other tattoos; I might have believed it too.”

“It’s not real?!” Pavitr practically popped off of the couch, hoisting Gwen into his arms so she didn’t drop to the floor with two of the water bottles. “Wait, so, like…Is it like those temporary sticker things?”

“Nah, Pav, ‘s just markers. Body ink and all, choice shit.” Hobie chuckled, grabbing both bottles off the floor and shoving the coldest one against Miles’ neck as he was getting up. He laughed as Miles flailed and nearly fell onto the floor, casually blocking the little punches aimed at his arm. “I got a gun for the real thing, though, if you lot are feeling daring.”

“Wait, seriously?!” Miles asked, his voice more excited than the others would have expected from him. “You just have a tattoo gun?”

Hobie smirked, tossing the bottles onto the couch as Miles sat up. “Don’t underestimate me now, come on. Might have to pop back to my own and grab it, but—” He had paced across the rug to grab his boots, only to pause as he passed by Pavitr and Gwen. His eyes flicked over them, and he let out an irritated sort of noise.

“Fuck’s sake…” He groaned, pivoting his path back to the corner where they’d dumped all their overnight bags upon arriving in Gwen’s dimension. He rummaged through his duffle bag, fishing a tape measure out of his makeshift sewing kit. “Stand up, all of ya.”

Miles stood up from the couch, and Pavitr set Gwen down on her own feet. They settled themselves into a line without being told, and Hobie stopped in front of Miles first.

“Stand on this.” He said curtly, letting the end of the tape measure drop at Miles’ feet. When he pinned it under his toe, Hobie drew his hand up to press his fingers right against Miles’ hairline. “I knew it!” He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “You lot have gotten taller since I last checked.”

“Again?!” Miles tried to grab the tape measure where Hobie held it so he could check for himself. “Wait, how do you know that?”

Hobie playfully snatched the tape measure away, moving to get a measurement on Pavitr before he finally answered. “Ah…Thing is, Miguel keeps secret little biometric files on all the Spiders.” He took a mental note of Pavitr’s height just before they all had an outburst at the information. “Yeah, yeah, I hate it too. Pretty sure his little Tinkerbell does a scan on everyone when they enter the building. I hack in once in a while, just ‘cause I can, y’know?”

He tried his best not to smile as Gwen glared daggers up at him, tipping her head back down so he could get a proper measurement and huffing as he checked it. “Haven’t checked in a little minute, but you lot are growing like weeds.” He lightly flicked Gwen’s cheek when she kept pouting, motioning between her and Pavitr. “Plus, you two definitely weren’t the same height last time we hung out.”

The pair’s attention was suddenly on each other as Hobie stepped away.

“You didn’t notice?!”

“You didn’t notice either! And you were wearing Hobie’s stupid platforms all day! When would I have?”

“Oi!” Hobie laughed, coiling the tape measure on his fingers as he walked back to his bag. “Anyway, point is, I’m not breaking out the gun if you’re not all done growing yet. I’ve made that mistake already; didn’t really feel like having to clean it twenty times anyway.”

“So…” Miles had crept up beside him, and Hobie could hear him grinning. “Does that mean there’s a chance we’ll end up taller than you?”

Hobie glanced sideways at him, his hands still shifting around in his bag. “Love, the only time you will be taller than me is when you’re on my shoulders.” He said with a shrug, finally standing up with a thick case in hand. “Or…” He leaned close and whispered into Miles’ ear, smirking as he laughed and shoved him away.

“You’re awful, y’know.” Miles teased, sneaking up and tasing Hobie’s sides as he slipped around him. Hobie managed to whack him on the back of his shoulder with the case, the noise catching the others’ attention as Miles let himself flop back onto the couch.

“No way; you actually brought that?” Gwen asked in disbelief, a smile lighting up her face.

“I don’t believe in packing light, Gwendy.” Hobie sat down on the couch, sneering at the way Miles scrambled aside so he wouldn’t sit on his leg. He set the case; some kind of binder that Miles quickly recognized as a case meant for markers; on his lap and unzipped it. The trio marveled as he spread it open, revealing a few dozen apparently high-quality skin-safe markers in a rainbow of colors.

“Dude, how did you get all of these?” Miles asked first, his hands fidgeting on his sleeves as he tried to resist touching all of them.

“Perk of having a good crew.” Hobie shrugged with a little smirk, pulling out one of the black markers and motioning them closer. “Most were gifts, but I lifted a few packs on my own when I got lucky.”

For each of them, he uncapped the marker, holding it between his teeth as he nudged their shirt collars aside and drew a tiny check mark on their shoulders.

“Now, what do we want? No consequences; just time.” He said simply, crossing his arms once the marker was capped. “I mean, they do last a while, but you can wear ‘em down with makeup remover if you really hate it.”

“Oh! What if we got little matching ones?” Pavitr suggested excitedly.

“I mean, I guess it depends on who’s drawing them.” Gwen said with a grin and shrug, knowing exactly what she was about to get as a result.

Hobie rested a hand on his chest, pulling a face as he gasped. “You sayin’ you don’t trust me? Now, of all times?”

“I’ve seen what you draw on people, Hobie; I have a right to be skeptical.”

“Feckin’ hypocrite.” Hobie reached up and dragged her close, ruffling her hair with both hands as she laughed. “Like I didn’t help you fix half of your shitty solo dye jobs.”

“I’m just saying!” Gwen giggled brightly as Hobie pressed a kiss to her forehead before letting her go. “We have Miles here; he’s practically a professional.”

Miles practically choked on the sip of water he’d tried to take, his eyes wide as he blushed like mad. “I—excuse me?!”

“Miles would totally trust me with a pen, wouldn’t you, love?”

Hobie was doing that thing with his eyes; Miles was never really sure if he was going to kiss him or try to break his arm for the slight of disagreeing with him when he gave that look.

“You promise you won’t draw anything weird on us?” Miles asked with a cringe, and the way Hobie chuckled didn’t give him confidence.

“Not unless you ask for it.” He smirked, reaching to take Miles’ hand. He laced their fingers, resting Miles’ knuckles on his chest. “Hand to heart, love.”

Miles’ eyes went wide again, and his mind went completely blank. “Y-Yeah, okay.” He murmured, visibly prickling as Hobie pulled his hand to his lips.

“Aw~” Pavitr giggled, and Gwen grinned as she rolled her eyes.

“Gross.” She teased, stepping back as Hobie stood up.

“Oh, I can be so gross if you like.” He snorted, leaning to kiss her cheek and sneak a bite on her cheekbone. “But I think we’ve waited long enough.” He nudged the collar of her shirt, peeking at the mark he’d drawn on her. “You two feel anything?”

“Anything like…?” Pavitr asked, brightening up when Hobie turned to him. He got a soft peck on the lips. And maybe two more before Hobie checked the mark.

“I put those little tick marks on ya to check for allergies and such. If you had started scratching, it’d have clued me in.” He shrugged, taking a moment to check the mark on Miles. “One of my mates is full allergic to the ink; another one just has a bad sensory thing. Can’t handle stuff drawn on them.”

“Are we good?” Miles asked a bit warily, only to flinch when Hobie tickled quickly under his chin.

“All good. And, since you trust me sooo much, you’re going first.” Hobie pinched Miles’ nose playfully until he laughed and pulled away. “I got something in mind for ya.”

[rad-ramenkingles]

Kinko Revamp Process

Wanted to try something slightly different with this post, call it a little behind the scenes process.

As you all know, I am Ramenking…

I make pixels, and I have done for a good long while, and today to lead up to my next Blurry Boy post, I want to show you a little bit of what my process has been for these revamps. Let's start with Kinko, as he is the first to have been revealed.

So when it comes to Kinkotsuman, out of the whole group I did. He is a character I mainly like for the uniqueness of his look, and the specific body type on him. As a character he is abit of a… Iffy guy for me. Just I'm not the biggest fan of trash Dad’s, like Kinko just falls right into that category full stop guys. Poor Bone Cold. 😔

All that said when approaching him it was quite an interesting task, as he is actually one of only 8 characters from the Kinnikuman franchise I've been spriting since I started in this little pixel square field. I did start other characters but they always were forever WIP stuff. All of those works though are long gone, probably on an old laptop somewhere in a storage room. That said, I at least have Kinko here looking nice and rough.

This period of spriting for myself wasn't the best one looking back on it. Majority of my work was more akin to sloppy edits and recolours trying to fit into a style I had little to no skill at all in. That being said it was still fun to actually make pixels for the first time, so it drove me to further dabble.

That nicely leads us to 2011 Kinko next to 2011 Kinnikuman…

Kinkotsuman and others get a face lift, or just get made for the first time in some cases. What's a bit neat about the Kinkotsuman Pixel of 2011, this sprite was initially a revamp made by an old forum buddy of mine (with heavy tweaks after made by myself). I had a mighty struggle with his head, my brain just couldn't get it and his could, the hair as well I kept having a problem with and Poof all of these issues were non existent, to him. What I really liked about this Kinko compared to the 2009 attempt was the body type actually got closer to what I envisioned. (Still a bit too tall though, and wide to a degree though)

See I've never been a massive fan of slightly buff Kinko as a norm. Not saying it couldn't make for an interesting growth of the character body wise throughout the series. Just in my head, he is Skull and Bones guy, and that type of person shouldn't have to much meat on his bones. All that said I do enjoy me a good character evolution over time chart. Might do one for all the Kinniku Characters like I did this quick mock up of Kinnikuman one day.

Onto now… When I approached Kinko this time, I wanted to try and strike a balance between the newer look Yude does for him, his first appearance look, and the anime look.

So I had examples of all three works as I went to it. I took the 2011 sprite and stripped off the colors and from there I readjusted placements of black lines inside the framework, and trimmed the framework down where I saw fit aswell. Then I laid back in some of the flat Colors across it all when I was happy with my framework. Then came the first run of shades. I take a look, see how I feel, then I will make adjustments where I see fit in different ways, just to get across the “Feel of the Character” that I want to achieve with this sprite.

Aside - |{When I say “Feel of the Character”, I am meaning I want whatever I do, however complex or simplistic it is with my pixels. I want someone to look at that, and the drawn character and be like “Oh yeah, I see it. That's them.” Like I'm not after getting every detail 100% perfect, really if you are working in pixels as small as I am. You flat out can't be. But what I want to do, is get that feel of them across as best as I can. Sometimes that means sacrificing certain elements (You will see that in some sprites to come), other times it means really emphasizing sometimes a single aspect of the sprite. It's a fun little challenge every time, sprite by sprite I have to play with. By no means though am I a master at this pixel thing, nor do I want to disparage others who have a different approach. This is just how I prefer to do it.}|

Next once I got the sprite down, I threw up my faceset. Used my WIP Kinnikuman as a base to make edits to find Kinko in the pixels. I chipped away, and remolded bit by bit until. Poof. I got my faceset I was happy with. (Which I was so happy with, it made me not too happy with the sprite so I actually later went back and made yet a last adjustment after the initial posting. Whoops!)

With all that done, I quickly did up a little I'll call it a “Pixel Showcase”. Gathered some old GameBoy text assets for the lettering, and just free handed some shapes and lines to put Kinko and his Face on display for you all. As the last “Showcase” background I realized was a bit busy for the eyes, and you kind of can't appreciate the sprites on display in it. I still very much like it though, so maybe I'll do something with it later on.

And that is all peeples. My behind the scenes Esque thing, to somewhat build interest for the next Blur Boy coming. (Which will come hopefully soon, if work doesn't beat me down too much before) Hope you all enjoyed this, if it's liked enough I might try doing more in the future as it's nice to almost get my process down for all to understand the approach from sprite to sprite, and for my own benefit as well as most of these ideas and practices aren't written but just in my head.

Until the next Blurry Boy post, I gotta rest my fingers now. Seeyah…

Ramen Out!