#trying so hard not to list all of them I gotta be nice to myself...

[cowardlychimera]

no background because canva is being mean to me.. anyways 11:11 PM au headspace Sunny!

"pansies are associated with free thinking and thoughtfulness or consideration...also linked to feelings of remembrance and nostalgia."

"The yellow pansy represents happiness, joy, and positivity."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Fresh Pain

Epilogue for Sweet Treats AU: by character | chronological | epilogues

Warnings: these drabbles will include dark elements such as noncon, control, intimidation, and other stuff that may not be specified. Take this as you chance to scroll by.

Please let me know what you think <3

🍭🍭🍭

Hot pain shoots down your arm. You groan as you wiggle your fingers and give up. It hurts too much. You gnash your teeth and whimper. You puff through your nose as agony courses through your muscles.

The gunshot echoes in your mind. Birdy. You should’ve known she’d blab. You really didn’t think she was that stupid. Why couldn’t she just keep her mouth shut?

You sigh. What can you do now? Stay angry? She might deserve it but not as much as they fuckwads who took you. 

“You’re not helping yourself,” the man says as he rouses in the chair. He sits up and stretches his neck. “You tense up like that and it’s only gonna get worse.”

“Like you give a shit,” you growl. “Easier to trade us like cattle if we can’t fight back.”

He snickers, “well, I did tell him not to fire into the goddamn car but I think he did us all a favour clipping your wing.”

Your eyes roll back and you curl your lip. His arrogance reminds you of Sam in a way, but there’s less humour there. He’s king shit among the shitlords.

“So, how much am I worth? Is it a bundle deal?”

He pokes his tongue out, gliding it over his lower lip as he runs his index down the cleft in his chin. He’s amused. You’re not.

“You know, I don’t think there’s a price worthy of you. As much as I could use the pocket change.”

“Bullshit. You’re working for them. I know a goddamn pig when I see one.”

“Ex-pig. Fed.” He explains, “pays a lot more to work for myself.”

“Oh, yeah,” you wince and hiss as another pang coils in your arm, “and what about the other two?”

“Business partners.”

“Oh, if you asked me, I would’ve thought the other one with the shit stache was the leader. You fall in line right behind his greasy ass, don’t you?”

He rumbles, half a growl, half a chuckle. He leans forward, hands clutched together, “you’re trying to provoke me.”

“If this is a job to you, you should finish it,” you sneer, “arm hurts so bad, you’d be doing me a favour.”

“And what about your friends? You don’t care about them? You haven’t even asked.”

“I don’t gotta ask,” you suck in a breath and shake a hand in front of your arm, not daring to touch your wrapped wound, “goddamn it. God… urgh.”

“I told you to relax,” he chides.

“Hard to fucking relax with a jackass sitting in the corner like a goddamn Bond villain.”

“August,” he stands, “if you’re wondering. And you’re Candy. Fitting, you are a sweet thing, aren’t you?”

Your eyes list away and you drop your head back weakly. He’s irritating, almost as much as Sam. This is why you sold a dream to mean and not the real thing.

“I got some painkillers,” he lowers himself onto the edge of the bed, “if you ask nicely, I could slip you a few. Strong stuff, too.”

You glare at him. You’re not stupid. A bullet wound isn’t going to save you. It’s just another disadvantage.

“I’m good,” you snip.

“Strong, I like it. Stubborn, don’t like that so much,” he traces his fingers along your shoulder, “but that face balances the tables, don’t it?”

“You’re fucking disgusting.”

“Hmph, aren’t you a picky bitch?” He scoffs and grips your arm, squeezing until you shriek. You kick as lightning shoots up to the joint and ripples through your flesh. “I’m tryna be a nice guy here and you’re not helping, are you?”

“Fucker–”

He rips his hand away from your arm and taps your cheek. Not a full slap but enough to sting. He frames your chin and forces your head straight.

“Enough of that. I don’t like girls with ugly mouths,” he seethes as he leans in.

“Talk about an ugly mouth,” you retort.

He shoves you back, slipping his hand down to your neck. He squeezes and pins you to the pillows. You cough, arm thrumming until you squeak. As if this couldn’t be worse. A new set of psychos to deal with.

“You got two choices, cupcake. I can feed you some pills or something else. All I’m asking is for a little gratitude. Just… be nice.”

You furrow your nose defiantly. A scream curdles in the air and permeates through the wall. Birdy. As much as you hate her, you don’t want her to be hurt. Your eyes flit to the door and you try to sit up without thinking. He keeps you down without effort.

“She’ll be fine,” he bends over you, close enough that his breath wraps around you, “as long as you behave.”

[indigowallbreaker]

Are you still taking Black Eagles related prompts? If you are would you do Linhardt/Raphael with "What's the rush? Just lay back down."

(I started shipping this as a joke and played myself hard. I forgor that joking about something is the first step towards being so so genuine about it.)

Oh dude, you were lost as soon as the journey started. BUT WHAT A SHIP TO BE GENUINE ABOUT! Very happy to give this a try!

[prompt rules]

[more Beagles stories]

"What's the rush? Just lay back down."

--

Though autumn swept a generous breeze through the trees and around their little inn, beads of sweat still dropped from Raphael's forehead. He wicked away more with a shake of his head and hoisted his axe over his shoulder. Just a few more logs to go. Then he could move on with his to-do list.

"Looks like more than enough to me."

Raphael looked over at Linhardt. "I thought you were sleepin'!" Linhardt was laying on a hammock lashed between two trees just behind where Raphael was working. He hadn't moved much less spoken since setting up there earlier that afternoon.

Linhardt snorted. "You expect me to sleep with all this noise?" He indicated Raphael's axe, the stump he had been chopping logs on, and, apparently, all of Raphael himself.

Far from sorry, Raphael laughed. "You could go inside, you know. We don't got any customers until sundown. You'd have the whole place to yourself!"

"Maybe but I'd much rather have you to myself." Linhardt laced his fingers behind his head, kicking his leg to make the hammock sway. "Come nap with me."

"No can do," Raphael said as he crossed the clearing to grab another log. "I gotta finish this pile, then there's--"

"We have more than enough firewood," Linhardt repeated. "Come nap with me while the afternoon is still warm."

It did look nice, sleeping in the sun. Linhardt made every spot look like the best spot to nap. Right now his hair moved gently in the wind, looking even more vibrant set against the reds and yellows of the trees around them. His cheeks were full-- no longer hollowed by war but lush with the good food Raphael supplied them both-- and his eyes half lidded as if already almost to dream land.

Raphael blushed when he realized he was just standing there staring at his boyfriend. He blushed more when Linhardt chuckled. "What's the rush?" Linhardt said as he reached out a hand. "Just come lay down."

Never had Raphael's axe felt so heavy. Lifting it to return to work was surely impossible. So he propped it against the tree-- not caring that it fell over immediately-- and took Linhardt's hand.

Grinning, Linhardt heaved himself out of the hammock. "Get in."

"You sure it'll hold me?"

Linhardt gave him a flat look. "Do you remember what you were always saying to me in school?"

"Uh, the thing about how you're so smart or the thing about how pretty you look when you're thinking?"

"The first one," Linhardt said, though his face turned pink at the second one. "I'm smart. I wouldn't offer to sleep on this hammock with you unless I was sure it would hold us both."

Raphael grinned and sank into the hammock without further objection. Once he was settled, he opened his arms to Linhardt, who climbed into them and lay against Raphael's stomach with a content sigh. His head fit perfectly under Raphael's chin.

All thoughts of wood chopping vanished as Raphael stroked Linhardt's hair, letting his eyes slip shut.

[boygiwrites]

Harley D. Dixon 23

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.

Warning for strong themes of suicide in this chapter because of Beth, and well, everything else.

Herschel left the farm all by himself while we was out.

As the sun sets behind the porch railing, Lori explains to Rick and Glenn that Beth's in shock — the thing I was in this morning. She tries to mutter it under her beath, but I hear just fine that she tried to kill herself by slicing her wrists up. Different to how Momma did it, but I know just about every way there is, and that's one of 'em. If I were Beth, I would'a just jumped out the window. Prolly would'a worked, but maybe she didn't want it to. Lori and Patricia found her just in time to save her. She's laid up in bed now, apparently still staring at the wall.

Rick keeps glancing at me throughout the whole conversation. I don't know why he's doin' it, but I wish he'd cut it out.

Herschel told us today he'd learnt what grit was, but I guess he ain't learned enough to deal with his daughter wantin' to die, 'cause he hopped in his truck and took a trip to town to get away from it all. Maggie begs the two of 'em to go bring him back, and they agree.

"You got any guesses where he might'a gone?" Rick asks, putting his hat back on. Always savin' people. "Parks, stores, houses?"

"Hatlin's." She answers unhappily. "Bar on main street. He practically lived there in his drinking days. If he's gone anywhere, it's there."

I can't imagine Herschel in a bar. My Daddy and Uncle Merle used to rot away in bars when they was angry or sad, but that was them.

Rick must be thinking the same thing. "I didn't take Herschel for a drinker."

"He gave it up the day I was born." She half-smiles. "Didn't even allow liquor in the house... But not anymore, I guess."

"I've seen the place." Glenn assures her, holding her shoulder and turning to Rick. "I can drive us there."

"Okay." Before they turn to leave, he murmurs to Lori, "Does Daryl know 'bout Beth yet?"

She shakes her head and glances at me, too.

He warns her, "Well, you're gonna want to. Harley's been havin' a tough go of it and I ain't sure how this is... gonna affect her."

She gives a look of understanding. "I'll go talk to him now."

When he comes down the steps, he crouches in front of me. He's got his Dad-face on, the one that's all nice and reassuring.

"Hey, you did good today." He tells me. "How 'boutchu go find Carl and read some comic books together or something for a while?"

"Alright." I lilt, watching him gently clap me on my shoulder before following Glenn down the path toward the cars.

But as soon as they're gone, I don't go find Carl. I take myself around the side of the house and slouch between two old barrels in the grass, hiding from everyone. I've gotten real good at swallowing down the need to cry, so that's what I do. At some point, the darn ringing returns.

I wish some little animal would cross paths with me, so I could take my knife out and stab it dead. That'd make me feel better.

Merle would smack me if he saw me like this. Don't cry, Harley. Don't cry. Been a long, long day, but you don't gotta cry.

The sun soon disappears under the earth.

"Sh, sh, sh. Baby, it's okay." The night is quiet, but our little tent is filled with my pent-up sobs. "It's okay."

I wish I could go to sleep like everyone else, but I can't. The day's finally caught up with me. Rick and Glenn still haven't returned, but the farm's been a mess without 'em all the same. Dad's been watching me like a hawk since Lori spoke with him, and dinner was spent in silence, and I been trying not to cry for hours. He keeps crooning the same thing to me over and over. It's okay. I hear that stupid lie every time things aren't okay. It don't get any more okay-er no matter how hard I bawl or scream into his shoulder, or wish with all my heart and all my body, right down to my toes, that I weren't such a little wuss. I wish Sophia was alive. I wish Shane made it to Fort Benning.

Seems I'm always hurting. If anyone asked me what I did best, I'd say this. Sometimes feels like all I was made for.

I did good faking my way through the day, but as soon as I laid my head down to go to sleep and realized that I couldn't no more 'cause of my ear, I finally broke. Can't shoot, can't hear, can't sleep. Everything, even the way I curl up at night, been stripped from me.

"It's not okay," I moan, hating that when I close my eyes, I can still see the things I don't wanna. "S'all wrong. It hurts."

"I know it does, chicken. But I'm 'ere. I'm always here." He murmurs into my hair, holding me even tighter to his chest. "Just get it all out."

I wanna tell him I can't, it don't work that way. If you could cry yer sadness out, I would'a lost all mine by now. But he already knows. Just like me, he's made up of sadness. Most people say we're alike 'cause our matching scowls, our little moles. But more than anythin', it's that.

I don't think I've ever been this type of angry before. There's just nowhere to put it. There's no-one to blame. It's just inside me. And I think it'll be there forever, like my bones are. There's no use being sour at Rick or Dad for killin' Shane. You can't get mad at people when there's no right or wrong to it, when they was just doin' what needed to be done. Shane was crazy, we've always said it. He done so many things he shouldn't have. No, I ain't mad at them for that. Or at Glenn, or T, or Andrea for helping 'em. Not at the bullet that shot my ear off, not at the Greenes' God for takin' all my friends away. I'm just angry at being alive.

"He said it was gonna be d-different this time." He said a whole bunch'a things, but that one I remember. "Daddy, I want it t'be different."

"It will be, baby. It will. I'mma keep you safe with everythin' I got, okay?" At least that one's not a lie. "You know that."

"But I'on care about me." I pull back, my fingers twisted in his tank top. "It's everyone else that's dead. It's Shane and Sophia a-and Momma and Merle and Morales and prolly Meemaw and Kyle and my cousins. I'm sick of it! Ain't no point in movin' on if people gonna keep dyin'!"

"Don't talk like that, Harley Dixon." He gently scolds, brows twitching into a frown. "Don'tchu ever. There is a point."

Well, I don't get it no more. "I ca-an't even sleep properly, Dad."

"Well, let's just try again. You can lay on yer other side." He offers. "Dad'll read you another story, huh? Or you want me to sing again?"

"No." I croak miserably. I don't want a story. I don't even want a song. "Even if I go to sleep, t-that's ruined, too. I get nightmares. And when I wake up, it's the same thing all over again. Eatin' scraps and cryin' and takin' ringing meds just for somethin' else bad to happen."

"That's the way life is, Harley." He tells me, a little stricter this time. "I can't change it any more than you can. People die—"

"People mourn," I quote him with a roll of my wet eyes, "Life moves on. I heard."

"Stop it." He don't like that I mocked him, not one bit. Not when it comes to this. "It's true. We move on. We keep livin'."

"Well, maybe I don't wanna. Maybe I'm done."

Herschel says I got a thing called grit. Dad says I'm his brave girl. Carl thinks I'm some sorta badass, but really I'm just a nasty, broken little thing called Harley Dixon. I don't wanna keep living if living's full of death. Maybe it's better the other way. Beth thinks so. Momma sure did, too. I never got to ask her if it worked out like she wanted and got all her sadness taken away, but I like to think it did. I like to think there's no bad things where she is, only good and happy things. She ain't watched Shane die. She ain't stood at Sophia's grave. She ain't hurtin'.

"Little girl," Dad's voice is thin and shaky like a whisper, but also very, very, very angry. "I know you ain't just said that."

I stare right back at him through my tears without a word, 'cause I did say that. Not to hurt him, but because it's the truth.

He slowly starts shaking his head. "Nah, I ain't raised you this way. I ain't raised a girl that gives up."

My wobbly frown deepens. "So that's what Momma was, then? She was weak?"

"Yes. Weak an' stupid." He says unapologetically. "And I won't have you talkin' like her. Over my dead body, girl, I won't have it."

"And how's that?" I challenge him. "You gonna make Sophia come back? You gonna fix my ear? You gonna make Shane—?"

"Weren't me that did that, Harley. Weren't Rick, weren't nobody but himse—"

"—Come back? You gonna kiss it all better and sing a song?" I taunt, shouting in his face, "They're all dead!"

"I know they are." He argues, taking a moment to suck in a breath. "I'm sorry I ain't find Sophia. I'm sorry 'boutcher ear. I'm sorry you're hurtin' and I can't do nothin' about it, but this type'a talk ain't what's gonna help you, Harley. It's bein' strong. You gotta be stronger."

"But I ain't," I tell him, and the tears are back now, streaming down my face, 'cause I'm right. I ain't strong. "I'm just nothin'."

"You're my little girl, is whatchu are." He says sternly, voice cracking. "I love you more'un anythin'. How you think hearin' that makes me feel?"

Probably makes him see the little traces of Momma on my face. Makes him feel like he's failing the same woman twice.

But I'm just so tired, and I just don't care. "I'on care how it makes you feel, Daddy. I'on care 'bout nothin' anymore."

Being empty must be worse than being full of somethin' like anger, 'cause this is the thing that really gets to him. Under his pair of twisted brows, his sharp eyes start to well up, his mouth curls into a sneer. The crickets outside chirp happily either way, dutifully filling the silence that comes. For the first time, I think my Dad is wrong about something. There is no point in moving on. Bein' strong, that's a waste. Shane said we deserve for things to go differently, go better in some way that ain't so cruel, but it didn't. It won't.

"You're fuckin' scarin' me, Harley." He utters thinly. "You ain't never talked like this."

I know. I ain't never stayed down after a hit, but I been strong for so long, I think it's just ran out.

I don't answer him. Instead I confess quietly, "I think I wanna go sleep in somebody else's tent tonight, Dad."

I need out this stuffy tent. If I could sleep alone in a hole somewhere, I would. I'm done arguing. And he's done, too. He wordlessly slides me off his lap and helps me gather my bedding, trying his best not to tear up more than he already is, muttering to himself, swiping at his eyes. He leads me back to main camp, where all the lamps are shut off and the fire pits are smoking. The night air cools my hot, red cheeks. 

He taps his knuckles onto a crate just outside the Grimes' tent, and before he even steps back, there's shuffling inside.

The zipper peels back, revealing Lori's sleepy, moon-lit face. She takes us in with a confused look. "Daryl? What are you doing over here?"

"Listen, I'm sorry for wakin' ya." He murmurs, putting on a level voice. "Came to ask you if... Harley can bunk with you guys tonight."

"Uh, sure." She agrees kindly, encouraging me to step inside by my shoulder, taking my sleeping bag from Dad. "Everything alright?"

"No." He answers gruffly. No point in lying. He don't give up anything else, and she don't pry. He places a kiss to my hair. "Night, chicken."

"Night, Dad." I force myself to say back, 'cause I'm grateful he ain't just kept me stuck in our tent, and that he really listened.

As he gives me one last glance and then leaves, Lori zips the tent up and lays my bedding down next to hers and Rick's. Carl snoozes away in the corner, an open comic book splayed out over his chest. I bet Lori knows what's the matter with me. Rick saw that thousand-yard stare I had after they killed Shane, knows how I been hating myself. He no doubt told her everything. But she's too nice to say anything.

"Here, sweetie." She takes my lumpy pillow and sets it down. I wiggle into the sleeping bag. "Comfy?"

I give a nod, even though laying on my back feels real strange and I don't got Matilda anymore.

She smiles blearily and crawls back under the covers. "Wake me up if you need anything."

And that's that. I stare up at the sky through the Grimes' tent, counting the stars through the black mesh until I fall asleep.

Sometime during the night, I bolt awake, sweating, crying, confused. Shane, I couldn't save him. I watched him die. Again. A gunshot, blood, shouting, dying, searing pain and a dog tag dangling from a broken mirror. Darkness, and then two little hands on my shoulders, shaking me. A boyish, worried voice telling me, hey, it's just a nightmare. I cling to them. Carl. He's here. I don't think before I let him hug me. I sniffle into his neck as he pets the soft spot between my shoulder blades like his Momma and Daddy do when he's upset.

"It was him again," I shudder. "Shane. I miss him. I miss all of 'em."

Life moves on, Daddy said. But how's it that mine ain't? When's that moving part happen?

"Me, too." His arms tighten around me as much as a boy's can. "You're allowed."

After that, I remember the sound of blankets shuffling, a flashlight clicking on, a comic book being quietly read to me. I remember my eyes closing, heart slowing, and I remember thinking he's gonna be the best big brother one day. In a way, he already is.

The next morning, my eyes flutter open to the sight of a quiet, empty tent. By some miracle, I must've slept in a little. I hear the fire crackling away outside, the clinking of spoons on bowls, muffled conversation. After taking a minute to yawn and stretch, I crawl out the tent.

"Ah, there she is." As I round the camping chairs, Dale sends me a warm smile. I take the seat next to him. "Just in time for breakfast."

I glance up at the second storey of the farmhouse, imagining Beth behind one of those pretty windows. I wonder how she feels about waking up this morning. I know I'm exhausted, and all I've done is open my eyes. Another day of eating scraps, crying, and taking pills. Ironically enough, Lori interrupts my spacing out by holding out two little white capsules and a water bottle to me. She's speaking, but I'm not hearing her. I throw both pills back and wash 'em down so I don't gotta look at 'em any longer. I hate that my body can't work on its own anymore.

"Harley." Lori's voice comes quick and sharp this time, startling me. "Are you listening?"

I glare up at her. She's standing so close to me that I don't know how I couldn't hear what she said the first time. "Huh?"

She looks at me like I've done something strange. "I said, 'You can't take those on an empty stomach'. Are you hungry?"

"Oh. Yeah." Now everyone's lookin' at me like that. I reach under my hair and nervously tug on my ear as she turns and fills a bowl with the creamy soup cooking over the fire. I've never not been able to catch what someone's saying like that. She hands the food to me. "Thanks."

As conversation picks up again, I struggle to pin certain words being said, especially when they're from Andrea, who's sitting the furthest from me, and Lori, on my left. S'like half the world's gone silent, and the other half's just a high-pitch squeal. God, it's makin' me mad. I claw at my ear again, as if there's somethin' stuck in there, like a wad of earwax or a cork, but there ain't nothin' in there but the ringing.

A scary thought crosses my mind. If you can't hear for no good reason, that means you're deaf. I can't be deaf.

When Andrea looks directly at me and says something that I think's meant to be a joke, I snap back, "I can't fuckin' hear you, Andrea."

Her smile drops pretty fast, but I don't feel bad. I feel frightened. To my surprise, I don't get told by anyone to mind my language.

Lori just looks at me all pitiful-like and hesitates to guess, "Is it the ringing?" 

I'm tired of hearing about the ringing almost as much as I'm tired of hearing the ringing itself. "It ain't the damn— I just can't hear proper."

She glances side-long at Dale. "Herschel did say..."

He sighs, looking a little stressed, before scooting his chair closer to mine and clicking his fingers on my right ear. "What about that?"

It sounds like a far-away thud, thud, thud, where it should actually sound like a snap, snap, snap.

"S'dull." I mutter unconfidently. 

He moves to my left ear. This time, there isn't even any thud, thud, thud at all. It's just silence.

When I say nothing, he leans back. "I'm no doctor, but... It seems very obvious to me."

I'm not a doctor neither, and neither is Lori or T or Andrea or Carl, but it's all rather obvious to us, too. I can tell, 'cause they're all lookin' pretty uncomfortable, like this discovery has already ruined the rest of my life as I'm just sitting here. I'm losing hearing in my left ear. That's what it is. As soon as Dad mentioned my hearing to Herschel, and when it got worse at shooting practice, I was scared this would happen.

Ain't nobody shocked. I was never gonna walk away from a gunshot to the side of the head with all my hearing intact.

I guess whenever somebody talks, I'll just have to try reading their lips.

"I had a teacher who was deaf." Carl offers this up like it means anything. "She was really nice and smart. Everyone liked her."

I almost feel like scoffing at him, Wow, thanks so much, Carl. You've cured me.

"It's really nothing." Lori's quick to reassure me, covering for his shitty attempt. "Hundreds of people live like this and they still thrive."

"Hell, I think I'm going deaf sometimes, too." Dale jokes. "And I'd say I'm doing alright, wouldn't you?"

"Sure, Dale." I try to chuckle, staring down at my cold soup.

Nobody mentions the fact that having sharp senses is what keeps you alive nowadays. If a walker sneaks up on me, I won't hear it.

It's then that Dad walks into camp, looking nearly as tired as I feel. He mutters a good morning to everyone, and Lori reluctantly stands to go collect my bedding for him. I waste no time hopping out my seat and going over to hug him, locking my arms around his neck as he kneels to hold me close. I said a whole lotta things last night, and so did he, but I don't think either of us is angry at the other over it. We can read each other well enough to know. He kisses my cheek before pulling back and taking my things from Lori.

Clearing his throat like he does when he might cry, he asks me, "You sleep well, chicken?"

Instead of answering, I just hug his waist and Lori changes the subject. "Daryl, just a heads up. That thing Herschel spoke about..."

"Damn it." He sighs when what she's implying clicks. He reaches down to soothingly pet my hair. "And they still ain't back, are they?"

"No. But we both know Harley and Beth are... in some type of way. We need him."

"And y'all want me to go and fetch him, huh?" He guesses, taking a long moment to consider. Then, "Y'all be grateful you been good to me."

"Thank you, Daryl." She exclaims. "Thank you. We've always been able rely on you."

He scoffs. "Maybe not always."

"Well, enough." She smiles. "They said they were headed to a bar in town called Hatlin's. I think you'll wanna head there first."

"There even gonna be anythin' he can do?" He mumbles so I can barely make it out. "I mean, the guy ain't David Copperfield."

"Well, in the old world, I might've suggested trying out a hearing aid, but now... I'm not so sure."

He grunts. "Them things need batteries, don't they?"

"I think so, but not any standard ones we'd have. You're thinking of finding one, aren't you?"

"I'd turn the whole fuckin' country upside down to get her one, if it's what she needs." He says. "Maybe some old dead guy's wonderin' around with his. Maybe I find one in a doctor's office. Either way, ain't no bill attached to 'em these days and if there's one out there, I'll find it."

She admires the determination in his eyes, lips twitching into a smile. "Rick will help you. I know he will."

"Best I go find officer goody-two-shoes and company, then." He agrees. "Look after my girl for me."

She nods. "That goes without saying."

"I love you, baby." He tells me, which is how I know I done messed up. Takes a lot for him to randomly tell me he loves me, and I guess all that talk last night about giving up was enough. He even places another kiss to my cheek, pinching it after. "I'll see you later."

"I'm sorry, Dad." I mutter.

"I know." He understands I can't help what's happening to me, or how I feel. "I'm gonna get whatchu you need. It's gonna be alright."

I'm not quite sure what I need, but at least the adults seem to know. At least some part of me can be saved.

After he leaves to put my bedding back in our camp, I climb back into my seat and watch the blue truck bumble down the drive and eventually, through the trees. Dale encourages me to finish off my soup in that annoying way my Dad always does, but I only eat a spoonful or two before my stomach shrivels distastefully and he tells me I've tried enough for this morning, so I take to curling up and staring at the fire.

I know if Shane was alive to see what he did to me, he'd be that word Lori likes to say, appalled. He never wanted to hurt me.

A hearing aid. It's one of them things I've never had to think about until now. If I had to go back a couple months and tell seven-year-old Harley, with her long, straight hair and chubby cheeks and bright, green eyes, that I look like a boy, got half an ear, and need a hearing aid, I think she'd hit me upside the head for being a liar. But I know now that you gotta be ready for anythin', like dead people in barns and a last-minute gunshot, and now, I guess, the need for a hearing aid. I have to try squash that feeling of shame. It ain't good for me, but it's always there.

I almost make myself chuckle imagining Carl tryna make being half-deaf badass. He's so relentlessly supportive. They all are.

It's too bad, then, that I still feel this way. This numb and hollowed out, alive but-also-dead way.

The way Carol must feel, and maybe the way Dad felt after Momma died.

"Thank you." Maggie tells Lori and Jacqui in the kitchen, as I stand in front of the fireplace in the next room over. "This is nice of y'all."

I see what Glenn was talkin' about now, about Maggie's great grandfather lookin' like a bald Georgie Washington. He's sitting all proper and important-like inside a photo frame on the mantle, like all people from forever ago do. But there's also newer photos, ones with color, like Maggie and Beth as little girls, posing with horse riding trophies and smiling together at old Thanksgivings and Christmases. I feel happy just looking at them. Baby photos, kind-looking people, school photos. We never knew the Greenes before, but I feel like now I might.

"We just thought you could use some help." Lori replies. "It's been a difficult time for all of us, especially Harley and Beth."

"I appreciate it. Sharin' your supplies, that means a lot these days. You wouldn't mind helpin' me toss it all together will you?"

"Not at all." Jacqui pokes her head around the arch and calls out, "Harley, you wanna come help Maggie finish cooking?"

With a little flinch, I turn to face the three women, remembering why we came here in the first place. We had some tinned vegetables and whatever else left over from breakfast, and Lori thought we'd offer them to Maggie, who's in the middle of cooking a meal for Beth.

"I guess." I hum as I head into the kitchen. It ain't like I got anything better to do. "What're you makin'?"

"Potato soup." Maggie pulls a few bowls from the worn cabinets with a smile. "Well, veggie soup, now."

"Hopefully Beth will feel a little better after a warm breakfast." Lori muses. "It always helped me."

All their words are muffled, as if I'm underwater and they aren't, but I can still just about make out what they're saying.

When Maggie places the bowls on the counter and sees me peering over the ledge, she chuckles. "Let me grab you a stool, huh?"

She grabs a mini wooden step-ladder leaning against the pantry, pulls it open, and sets it down for me. I step onto the lowest rung. She fills a bowl with water from the faucet and slides it in front of me, instructing me to how to rinse off the fat, muddy potatoes and lay them on the dry rag afterwards. It's an easy, mindless task. I get to work while they start slicing up the vegetables and opening the tins. 

As Maggie scrapes carrot into the pot, she jokes, "I been makin' so much soup recently I think I forgot how to make anything else."

"Good thing we've taken a liking, then." Jacqui smiles. "I've never tasted a tater soup good as y'all Greenes'. You know your stuff."

Feels like I'm back at the quarry again, helping prepare our next meal from whatever scraps we had, listening to the women gossip.

"Pssh. I'm tellin' you, as kids, Beth and I loathed the day Wednesday came around and Momma'd make her famous potato soup." She scoffs, grinning at old memories. "She always put too much salt in, said it was good for us. But all it was good for was makin' us barf."

Lori makes a sassy face. "I'm taking it the recipe's been tweaked a little since then."

Maggie smirks. "Wouldn't be eatin' it if it hadn't."

"Must've been nice, growing up with food on the table that's straight from your garden."

"Yeah, it was. Fresh peaches and apples to take to school, home-made bread and the like. We've always lived this way."

"Pretty perfect, if you ask me." Jacqui agrees. "Me and my fiancé were always eatin' take away all the time. God, I miss it sometimes."

"A nice greasy burger sounds so good right now." Lori moans, like she can almost taste it. "Oh, and some curly fries on the side."

They all laugh. It's a little funny. I remember her back in the beginning, braggin' about how her family never ate fast food. Now look at her.

As the conversation drifts to more boring things, I find myself thinking about Beth again. We sure grew up different, but we got broken the same way, at the same time. We clearly been thinking about the same things. She was just brave enough to actually pick up a knife and do something about it. I wonder if she knows now her Momma and step-brother been dead a long time, that they weren't sick at all, and were just bodies needed mourning. The Greenes were a little late to that, but it's like Meemaw used to say, better late than never.

I wonder if Beth regrets what she did. She could be dead right now, in a mound of dirt right next to her Momma.

When I was littler, I used to think Dad could read my mind when I was thinkin' unsavoury things like this, and that he'd give me in trouble right away. I thought that's how it worked with adults and kids, but it ain't. I can think whatever I want and it's safe inside my head.

The potatoes get peeled and diced and thrown into the soup like everything else, and then my new job is to help wash dishes.

When we're down to the last few, Maggie says I should take the bowl of soup up to Beth, 'cause they've got this handled.

"Sure." I agree before hopping down, wondering why my heart's beating so fast all of a sudden.

The door to Beth's bedroom creaks open.

I don't bother waiting for her to give me permission to come in. I just creep in all on my own, because from what I've heard, she hasn't talked all day. Her room is exactly like I would'a guessed. Like something out a trendy teenager's magazine, with a nice white desk covered in perfume bottles and hair clips and crumpled paper and books, blonde pop star posters stuck to the walls, a fluffy, cutesy rug, a teddy bear thrown on the lounge chair sitting by the window. Even the Mp3 player Maggie was telling me about, laying forgotten on the floor.

I carefully set the hot bowl on her nightstand, but something keeps me curious, and I don't turn to leave just yet.

Beth's staring at the wall like they said. Not out the window or anything. Just at the wall. I can't imagine her humming sweetly and letting me borrow one of her shirts, giggling at something I said from the other side of the bathroom door. She looks like a totally different girl.

"I went into shock too, yesterday." I randomly muse. "Or at least that's what Rick said. He's the one with the cowboy hat."

I think I might still be in shock. I'm talking and walking around, but inside, I feel like whatever statue Beth's turned into.

"I ain't sure if anyone's told you about it, but you prolly heard the screamin'. The man my Daddy stabbed, Shane, he took me away. We got pretty far. Sometimes I think about what would'a happened if we got even further, but... he was meant to die. Some people just are."

At that, she breaks her gaze away from that spot on the wall and looks me right in the eye. "Do you think I'm one of those people?"

"I... I ain't smart enough to know." I say honestly, before an awkward pause takes over. "'Cause I was only in grade two, y'know."

Carl seemed to find that funny when I first told him, but Beth just looks uninterested.

"And you?" She hides her bandaged wrists under the covers when she catches me looking. "What're you meant for? Dyin', or somethin' else?"

"I think, um... All I'm meant for is suckin' up hurt." I confess. "Like, there's all this bad in the world, and when there's nobody left for it to go to, it goes to me. Maybe I'm just unlucky. Maybe I done somethin' wrong. That's how life is, my Daddy says. So if that's the 'something else', I think I'd rather just be the type meant for dyin'. That's what my Momma did. She was in pain, and then one day... She wasn't."

"She killed herself," Beth says as fact.

"Yeah." I mutter, feeling the weight of the locket crush down on my chest as I take a seat on the edge of the bed. "She did."

"Was she the sort meant for dyin'?"

"No. She weren't." That much, I'm sure of. "She was just meant to be my Momma."

Beth's pretty eyes gloss over as she says very dully, "Our Mom's dead, too. Right before I thought I was about to die, I imagined what she'd think of me when we'd meet in heaven. She'd be ashamed, I know. Somehow, that was so much worse than the thought of going to Hell."

"Well, maybe your God made sure you didn't die." I guess, hoping it's comforting. "Maybe he wants you to live for everybody else."

A tear beads up on her waterline before sliding down her pale cheek. "I just don't know what to do. I think I'm ashamed, too."

"My Dad says you just gotta be stronger, but I don't know how." I wish I did. "I'm sorry. I'd tell you if I did."

"It's okay." With a sniff, she sends me a tiny smile. "You know, you're kind. I can just tell."

That makes me smile back. Something about my rugged hair, my mean face, my missing ear must still be soft like it was before.

Author's Note.

Sorry for the longer than usual wait between chapters! I've been dealing with intense writer's block recently so it just took me a while to get this out, but I'm pushing through!

I hope you're ready for a familiar face to return next chapter! ;)

PS. I wanted to thank you all for the touching dms and messages I've received recently, both on here and on ao3. It's still so mind blowing to me that there are so many people out there who hold a special place in their heart for this story just like I do. I'm so grateful for you all :) 💙

[mooifyourecows]

Can I ask your top favorite fics that you've written (feel free how much that you want to list)? Why they're special to you? Is there a specific inspiration when you wrote them? Thanks....

Hmmmm let's see... I'll do top five. Generally I like ALL the fics that I've written (I wouldn't post something I didn't like, tbh)(even though some have been started and then completely abandoned RIP sorry to them) so it's kinda difficult to rank them, but here's my best whack at it:

Summer Rain- I really enjoy writing this fic. I love the massive cast and all the little storylines happening all at once. I know it's kinda on hiatus at the moment but I really do look forward to when I get back to writing it because I love thinking about how everything will eventually coalesce into the climax. Dropping off on cliffhangers is also a special indulgence of mine, even if it makes people angry 😈I started this one based off of an OLD original story idea i had once upon a time. I realized that it had a better chance of getting written if it was a daisuga fic, so here it is! Though it definitely went completely off the rails from the original plan.... (in a good way)

and the Emi goes to...- The DaiSuga dynamic in this one is probably one of my favorites. At this point everyone should know I LOVE slow burns and this one takes its sweet ass time. And as someone who hates the idea of being a parent myself, it's nice being able to live vicariously through the characters to get my fill of parenthood without ever having to have a kid lmao. My inspiration was "I want to write a single parent AU" and poof, there it was.

Let it Ride- Man I don't even know what it is about this fic but I adore it. I think Daisuga's relationship in it is just so... 😘👌 The childhood best friends who know everything about each other and are willing do to ANYTHING for one another, even give up the opportunity of a lifetime... just the sentiment of loving someone so much that you'd be happy struggling with them really takes me out, you know? It's about love but it's about like, too. They LIKE each other so much, what a pair! I got the idea to write it because I LOVE fake relationship AUs and I LOVE LOVE when the stakes are set at the highest setting, AKA Marriage.

Hard Times- Another fake dating AU because as previously mentioned I LOVE them. This one just checks so many boxes for me. Revenge? Crime? Sex? Comedy? Drama? More revenge? Closure? Catholicism? Sign me up! (as the writer I think I'm automatically signed up, but ya know.) I had a lot of fun writing it. And Radish made beautiful art for it so really, what's not to like? I don't remember what inspired it... I think I just wanted to write another fake dating scenario with a funny meet cute.

Open Tab- I feel like I'm obligated to put Open Tab on any list when it comes to my writing because it's the OG, ya know? It's the first fic that got me deep into the Haikyuu fandom and I gotta appreciate it for that reason alone. We've been through a lot together, me and good ol OT. The only hate mail I ever got was on Open Tab. The thrill of it all... I had so much fun writing it. And while right now it's definitely a bit of a pain in my ass, trying to get the motivation to continue it, I can't erase all the good times we had together. I owe it a lot! Someday it will finally be over and I'm both dreading and looking forward to that day. My inspiration was alcoholism. Drink responsibly, kids.

[rainy-knights-of-villany]

The makeup store

Civilian sighed, rearranging some products on the counter, sitting back in their old, uncomfortable chair. Running a business all by themself was way harder than they thought, especially with stingy insurance companies talking about how frequent villain attacks were in this part of the city. Nobody even showed up anymore, the shelves would be caked in dust an inch thick if Civilian didn’t clean them constantly. They were about to call it a day when the door opened.

Supervillain walked in, heeled boots clacking over the dark wooden floor. They checked themself out in a full length mirror next to the door, smirking, then started walking around. “Nice place you’ve got here.”

Civilian gulped, wondering if they should hide under the counter. Supervillain was powerful, dangerous, and extremely beautiful. Wait, what were they thinking?

“Um… thanks! I’ve always wanted to run my own makeup store.”

Supervillain raised an eyebrow. “Always? Wow, that’s some dedication.” They picked up an eyeshadow pallet, looking over at the box.

Civilian tapped their fingers together nervously, eyes never leaving the villain. “So… what brings you here, of all places?”

The villain chuckled, putting a few items into a basket. “Have you seen the villains in this city? They make those glam rock pop stars look like average office workers in polo shirts. Me especially, if I do say so myself.”

Civilian cleared their throat, trying to forget the many hours they had spent looking for reference images on various villain outfits, marvelling at how good they looked. The heroes probably had them on some sort of list by now.

Supervillain walked up to the counter, putting their items down and looking into Civilian’s eyes. “But of course, why here? This small store, instead of a big, popular chain?”

Civilian blushed and looked down, starting to scan the items. “Privacy? The heroes would be able to find you easier in a more prominent location.”

“Good guess, but no.”

“You… liked the atmosphere?”

“Well, that’s not the primary reason, but I have to admit I love it, it’s so… beautiful.”

“Thanks? Umm… I can’t think of anything else…”

Supervillain put a finger under Civilian’s chin, tilting their head up and leaning in slowly. “Okay, so nobody else has this specific brand of neon green lipstick that I absolutely love, I cannot live without it. All of the big stores ran out of it weeks ago and my supply ran out. I just really love the way it looks on me, and-”

'Please don’t make me think about your lips any more right now,' Civilian thought, closing their eyes tightly. Supervillain was so close.

“Hmmmm o-kay! The shop is closed now, I have to go pay rent for the month, or- or whatever, gotta go right now byeee!” Civilian bagged Supervillain’s items as quickly as possible, then practically pushed them out of the store, slamming the door so hard it rattled the windows. What a disaster.

They tried not to watch as supervillain looked into the bag with a bemused expression, then skipped away. This was probably the worst day of their life right now. They were done.

Part 2

[bropunzeling]

writing meme - i was tagged by @postoperation!

Rules: Go to your published works on AO3 and list the first fic you ever published there, the last fic you published, any fic that you wrote for a fandom/ship only once, your favorite fic you wrote in the fandom/ship that has the most works, the fic you wish more people read, the fic you agonized over the most, the fic that sprang fully formed from your mind without any effort, and a work you are proud of—for whatever reason.

first fic: it is a very short platonic fic for elementary - render death and forever with each breathing - a lil pretentious and not great, but you know, we all gotta start somewhere!

the last fic you published: that would be refraction! because all these omega matthew pov flips are a lot easier to keep track of when not in the mire of my blog

any fic you wrote for a fandom/ship only once: hmmmm i think i'll bump my katniss/peeta post-canon fic, the motion and the act! i really like how sparse and terse the prose was and how fucked up of a first time it was for them while still having a sense of tenderness.

your favorite fic you wrote in the fandom/ship that has the most works: apparently men's hockey rpf has the most works, but it's very hard to pick a favorite. one i do really love a lot and am still quite proud of is don't ever be a stranger - i really enjoyed coming up with the right sense of atmosphere and mood, and doing a real future fic for the first time was super fun! jamie and trevor working out their issues in the california sunshine can't be beat :) plus it was nicely condensed (for me lmaoooo)

the fic you wish more people read: gotta put in a plug for meet me halfway. girl!leon is my baby 🥺. obvi cisswap isn't for everyone but i really am proud of her and still think about her like, daily, and would love to have more people talk to me about her!

the fic you agonized over the most: i agonize over everything except for the things i write in 12 hours, but i gotta say linger was pretty stressful at points! trying to get the world building right, trying to get the right blend of neuroses, trying to make sure you understand both sides of the relationship without giving anything away too fast - it got frustrating haha. plus i find writing angst very excruciating and did not make things easy for myself lmao

the fic that sprang fully formed: pretty sure maddy made the tweet that inspired close quarters and like, four hours later i had a draft, so. that.

a work you are proud of: a country mile is one of my very favorite yuletide fills i've ever done - a whole mystery!!! with accompanying research!!! it's so plot driven!!!! i still kinda can't believe i pulled it off!!

tagging @hopetorun, @msmargaretmurry, @moregraceful, and anyone else who wants to!

[sunshineandalittleflour]

Writing Patterns

Rules: List the first line of your last 10 fics and see if there’s a pattern!

WHOOPS sorry @onetwistedmiracle this took me a billion years (9 days) to do, the passage of time is simply not real to me. See twisted's post here and read her stuff, it's good. I will follow her lead and also pic ten fics that I wrote by myself, just to try and keep things easier lol

I'm bad at tagging people because this account is a side blog and I really only talk to twisted on it (is this an invitation to talk to me? Maybe! But please don't be offended if it takes me 9 days to reply), but if you want to examine your own writing style, consider this a lazy tag.

The last ten fics I wrote were for Critical Role and Star Wars (I miss you Check! Please, eventually I work work more on mine and twisted's collab fic and see you again)

1: You could be the one that I love, And now I'm standin' here, hopin' it gets to you

Molly had the feeling that so long as Caleb Widogast’s hand was on the small of his back, he could do anything.

Part 9 in my Molly/Caleb/Essek threesome fic, spicy but they're IN LOVE. I do love to start with a character thought/name.

2: I'm in new territory, somehow, it kinda feels like home

“What?” Padme said, her voice feeling hollow in her own chest.

A rare gen fic for me, I usually write explicit, but this was a fun prequel AU because I love to turn tragedies into opportunities. I also love to start with dialogue, just get RIGHT into things. It's also a short sentence, idk why.

3: Oh, if it's real, if it's sweet

“I’ve made a mistake,” Anakin said, and Luke sighed.

Another teen rating, can you believe I built my AO3 page on writing porn? More dialogue, I just think it's funny. And a short sentence!

4: Wherever you are, we are seeing the same stars

The day after Anakin left, Shmi almost sold C-3PO.

Surprise, it's dialogue AND a short sentence. Am I a two-trick pony? Maybe! Check out this kick flip!

5: Feeling like a face in the crowd

What Molly liked most about Essek and Caleb’s house—besides the fact that they lived in it and he, like, loved them—was just how many nooks and crannies it had.

This is the longest starting sentence thus far, maybe the longest starting sentence ever for one of my fics LOL I usually leave the run-ons for a third of the way through. And it's not dialogue! Shocker! This is also part 8 of my threesome purple wizard series, so the foundation has been laid and I could get a little weird with it?

6: All we got is us now

Ahsoka hadn’t spent a lot of time with Leia Organa.

We're back on the short train with a character driven statement. This is also part 5 of my pretty places series, so, again, there could be something to the already established aspect of it, or nothing at all!

7: Look how you made me

“Jester has questions,” Fjord said with a sigh.

Dialogue, but this time it's not from the POV character. I'm not doing a very good job analyzing things, but I am having a good time.

8: A message in a bottle is all I can do, Standin' here, hopin' it gets to you

Caleb Widoghast and Essek Thelyss lived very different lives from Mollymauk Tealeaf.

Character driven thought! Writing is hard, okay, and you gotta start somewhere. Definitive statements and dialogue are nice jumping off points.

9: I'm reaching for you

The first time Molly had sex with Caleb and Essek, he called himself an Uber right after.

This one is earlier on in the threesome series; timeline-wise it's like...the second story? 1.5 technically, since it happens mid first story? But I wrote it fifth, so. Establishment theory does or doesn't gain traction here, I don't think I know what I'm saying anymore.

10: 'Cause you could be the one that I love, I could be the one that you dream of

“What’re you thinking about?” Caleb asked, drawing his thumb across Molly’s temple, winding a purple curl between his fingers.

And we're back on our dialogue train! Dialogue starters, my beloved.

I don't know that we (I) learned anything, but it was fun to wander back through my most recent fics. Hopefully this will inspire me to write more fanfiction, but right now I am DEEP in the trenches of my own dungeons and dragons character, so. It's gonna be a minute.

XOXO

[adelphenium]

do you have a fave player to draw from each team? or if you haven’t drawn a player from each team (/maybe even if you have and he wasn’t your fave) who do you think they would be?

ahh this is gonna be a long one! i'm taking you at your word and listing one from every team..... under the cut :D

also i've divided it up based on the teams each player was on when i drew them!

favourite players i have drawn, by team:

East

sens: definitely chabby! however i will also note that i have not yet drawn timmy in a finished piece and i am very much aware of how criminal that is. i will try to rectify this soon.

canadiens: i haven't drawn many but probably pk!

leafs: auston bc he's got really nice distinctive features! conversely i don't like drawing mitchy bc he's too conventionally attractive :( another forbidden answer is bertuzzi . he was so rancid i HAD to draw him and it was admittedly fun.. but it was only a one-time thing.....

panthers: obviously matty tkachuk :)

bruins: sway! he's got the sweetest face BUT so too does ully.. hm..

red wings: dylan larkin, gorgeous nose

pens: s. crosby, legendary nose

flyers: nolpat! love his blush and lashes and terrifyingly blue eyes

canes: brady skjei in all his grey glory <3

devils: nico!!! amazing brows

West

avs: natemac, no question. PHENOMENAL nose, dare i say the best. though cale is a close second!

wild: kirill!!! squishy and doughy

jets: i've only drawn heller and his HUGE ears but it was still fun

stars: robo my beloved!! though seggy kinda reminds me of mtkachuk (?just me??) so he's been fun too

chicago: so far only seth jones

oilers: i Cannot Believe i'm saying this but...... connor. he seriously grew on me like a zebra mussel. i had such a hard time getting his features right at first (why is his mouth so small. why are his eyebrows Like That. what's up with his facial hair) but he's. he uh. listen davo propaganda is real and i have submitted completely to it. i love drawing him now

sharks: i've only drawn ekarlsson but he was so fun with the flow and twirly mustache

ducks: definitely jamie drysdale! i am a sucker for freckles..... praying for his contract 🙏

canucks: only quinn as of yet but he is fun and pretty

kraken: only matty beniers but he is extremely fun!!

knights: only mark stone but he's been fun too

teams whose players i have not drawn but want to:

East

lightning: i tried drawing vasy once and it went Very Badly. i think it'll be the same for stamkos. so maybe bogo!

sabres: definitely need to draw jeff skinner!! maybe i'll draw him with ej and josty just to make myself sad

islanders: mat barzal bc he reminds me of a handsome version of br*ndon urie

rangers: zibanejad!! i'm quite fond of him bc he looks like a male bearded version of one of my friends 😭

caps: nicke or sonny!

blue jackets: i don't really know these guys but maybe gaudreau.. he always looks a little freaked out, so. interesting

West

yotes: matt dumba! he reminds me of another one of my friends

preds: erm.... i gotta admit ryan o'reilly. he's very pretty to me and i don't really know anyone else on the preds...... i love tbear but he's a little plain for me 😭

blues: brandon saad, super cute smile!

flames: i've drawn matty tkachuk while he was on the flames but he's otherwise represented on the list so i don't think he counts..!! so maybe naz or hanny?

kings: either kopitar or pld!

i really like to draw players with distinctive faces, but i am extremely partial to those i've emotionally imprinted on.. as well as those i've already drawn multiple times...... you can see i've got a bit of an eastern atlantic bias haha

[clanofjones]

Ghosts of Our Days: Chapter Ten

Start

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Ao3 (working on updating from the shutdown)

Cowritten with @theosb0rnway!

Chapter Ten: Sleep is Not Listed in the Plan of Casey Jones

Casey's POV

It took several more hours and the police on the ground below them for Raph to get Casey off the rooftop and guide his ass back to the apartment. Of course, his first stop once inside was the ice box, but with his newest discovery, it felt strange. Which Raph should he kiss now? ‘Cause he could totally kiss both. 

Both sounded good. Both was good. 

Unfortunately for him, Raph had other plans, which included pushing Casey away from the ice box and onto the couch before asking him gently to lie down. 

"No." 

Raph's POV

"Casey, please-" 

"I WANT THE ICE BOX." 

"I'm right here, Case, you've got me-" 

"I want the FUCKIN' ICE BOX, GODDAMNIT!" A fresh wave of tears down his face reminded Raph of the now very unrecognizable paint job he'd done on Casey's face. It needed to come off for his safety, whether he liked it or not. 

"Ya' need to at least take that shit off." 

"What?" 

"If ya' won't sleep like a normal person, at least just wash the paint off in the sink." Casey looked mortified. 

"No way in HELL am I taking thi' off!!" 

"Your face is gonna get worse if you don't!" 

"DO I LOOK LIKE I CARE 'BOUT MY FACE? ALL I CARE ABOUT IS YOU!!" More tears, falling down his face like a waterfall, making things worse just like Raph feared, but he had a solution. 

"I've been teachin' myself to hold things while you were gone." 

"What?" That was really Casey's favorite word that morning. 

"I'm learnin' how to touch and hold things, Case. I can hold a brush now for like, a minute, if I really try." Casey looked hopeful, his eyes bright and his paint crinkling into a smile. 

"YOU CAN DO PAINT AGAIN?!?" 

"Yeah, babe, I can do paint again!" 

"THEN WE NEED TO GO BUY SOME! I've got money I stole from the Foot punks! LOTS OF IT!" 

That was great and all, but Casey needed sleep before he went out on another adventure into the city. He'd just gotten home after hours of crying on a rooftop! Raph was surprised that he even had any more tears in him, let alone energy, but that's just the benefit of Casey Jones: unlimited energy and lots of repressed emotional trauma. 

"No, Case. Not right now." 

His smile faltered. "Why not?" 

"You need to wash the paint off and sleep. No buts." 

"Bu-" Raph cut Casey off with a hard stare. "FINE. But I'm not sleepin' on the couch and no way in hell am I showin' my face, so you get the mask tonight." 

Raph sighed. "I don't care what I get as long as you're healthy and safe. You know that, right?" Casey knew that extremely well, but would he admit that out loud? No way in hell. 

"Whatever." 

"Case." 

"I said whatever." 

"Casey!" 

"FINE! I know. Just leave me 'lone! Now, I gotta go take this thing off. Thanks lot." 

He did not sound thrilled in the slightest, so Raph got up and walked over to the window in the opposite corner of the apartment, as far away from the sink that Casey had limped to. He heard the sound of water running and Casey's many creative curses, so he was clearly doing what Raph asked. Yeah, he felt bad for making Casey take the paint off, but it wasn't healthy for his body and Raph could try again! 

For now, he'd make Casey buy cream at the store to keep his face nice, and then once he looked better, he could take off the mask and don his signature paint all he wanted. Casey came back a few minutes later, standing by Raph with his mask firmly on his face. 

"Better?" He snarked. 

"Yeah, much better. Now my boyfriend doesn't have crusty shit all over his face." 

"Hey, that was YOUR 'crusty shit', asshole, I was wearing it for YOU!" 

"Well, don't. You're gonna get acne and nobody fucking wants that." 

"All I want is you next to me and that ugly, horny motherfucker DEAD." 

Raph couldn’t keep himself from laughing. "Hah! You said horny!" 

"Shut up, peabrain!" 

"Crustface!" 

"'Least I got a face!" 

"Douchebag!" 

"Asshole!" 

"Love you." 

There was a moment of pause. "...Love ya too, Raphie. I really do." 

"I know." He leaned his head against Casey's mask, trying to keep it so he didn't fall and go right through Casey's body. "Now go the fuck to bed or I'll find a way to unplug that damn freezer." 

He could see Casey's horrified expression even with the mask on. "You WOULDN'T!"

"Oh, I would. Bed. Now." 

Casey's POV

"God, you sound like Leo. Whatever you say, Raphie." He muttered sarcastically, stalking over to the freezer, kissing Raph's slowly decaying corpse goodnight, and crawling on top of it, curling into his usual position. 

After weeks of adapting, his body was finally getting used to the temperature and texture of sleeping on cold, hard metal. Casey didn't care what Raph said, he was still going to do things his way. He needed that security, that sense of normalcy. Especially after finding out that his dead boyfriend is now a ghost that only he can see. What a day. 

Five Months Earlier 

Casey Jones just needed a break. Between not trying to flunk classes, daily hockey practice, vigilante patrol, and the problem that was Arnold Jones, he was just about ready to crash on his couch and call it a day. 

Provided that the couch wasn't occupied by said problem Arnold Jones, which it most likely was. Before he could get home, however, his T-Phone started to ring. If it was anyone other than Raph, he would've smashed the phone on the sidewalk and run over it with his Heelys. 

"Hey, Raphie..." 

"Case! You okay? You don't sound so hot." For once, Raph seemed to be in a good mood. 

"I'm always hot, Raphie, I'm just tired." 

Raph rolled his eyes, letting out a soft groan. "Not too tired for jokes?" 

"That's all I've got for today." 

"Uh-huh. Sure. Anyways, I wondered, since today's a slow day, if you wanted to come over and watch Space Heroes with me?" 

That was an offer Casey Jones couldn't refuse. He was at the lair in three minutes, tossing his shut aside and practically running towards the couch where Raphael was waiting for him. ,

"Woah! Slow down, Casey, I'm not goin' anywhere!" 

"Missed... my boyfriend..." Casey mumbled into Raph's shoulder. 

The turtle softened. "Missed ya too, Case." 

And for a while, they sat there, filling their brains with mind-numbing cartoons until Raph seemed to feel that Casey was asleep, or at least relaxed enough that he felt asleep. Turning off the TV, Raph picked Casey up bridal style and carried him to their shared room, setting him down on the bed as softly as possible. 

As it happened, Casey Jones was not asleep, in fact, he was far from it. It wasn’t often that he let himself take trips into his mind, preferring not to think too deeply most of the time cause it was just too much work. It also meant thinking about topics that he was scared about, like his father, his mother, and his own identity. 

The last one was the thought currently eating away at his remaining brain cells, the one he wished would just go away. It all started with Angel's tea parties.

His little sister, ever the perfectionist, insisted that everyone who participated in her tea parties had to wear a skirt or a dress. She wasn’t picky about which. Casey didn't mind that at all, in fact, the part that scared him most was that he liked it.

He liked dressing up like a girl, acting like a girl, being a girl. Casey Jones was a boy, he knew that he'd always been a boy and that was fine by him, but he'd recently discovered that maybe he was okay being a girl too. 

So, at night, in the comfort of his room, when Arnold was fast asleep in front of the TV, he put on that tea party skirt and called himself she instead of he, and as stupid as he felt, he loved it. Casey Jones loved being a girl. 

He was obviously scared to tell Raph given that Raph was Raph. Tough, manly, acted like he was too good for Angel's tea parties even though he secretly loved them. 

Not that Casey knew that part. Raph was his boyfriend, but even mutant turtles living in the New York Sewers could judge things. He figured he might as well try, and if it went south he could ignore his feelings, bottle them up again, and be the completely normal, trauma-free Casey Jones! 

Right? Yeah, that would have to do. 

"Hey, Raphie?" Raph jumped, not realizing Casey was still awake. 

"Holy SHIT, Case! You almost gave me a heart attack!" 

"Some ninja you are." 

"Shut up." Casey went quiet. 

"Raph? 

"Yeah, Case?" "Can I tell you somethin'?" 

"Sure."

Casey paused for a minute, then shook his head. "Wait..I...Um... never mind." 

Raph's brow furrowed, and he put a hand on the back of his boyfriend's head, stroking his hair softly. "You sure?" 

It was killing him, he couldn't keep it in any longer. Raph would still love him, right? Casey took a deep breath in, and blurted out: "I wanna be your boyfriend but I wanna be your girlfriend too!!" 

Raph's POV

Raph blinked, trying to process what he heard. 

"You wanna be my boyfriend and my girlfriend?" 

"Yeah..." 

"So... are you a girl now too?" He asked curiously, not wanting to upset his lover. Casey looked terrified and Raph could feel him shaking the entire bed from nervousness. 

"Yeah..." He nodded. 

Raph smiled, placing a kiss on his girlfriend's head. "That's pretty cool, Case." 

Casey was shocked, to say the least. "Really? You're.... you're not mad?" 

"Why would I be mad? Now I have a girlfriend and a boyfriend all in one person! That's awesome!" 

Casey felt like she was about to explode from the happiness, kicking her legs and letting out a loud cackle. "YES!" 

"So.... are you... still Casey, or-" 

"Yup! Still good ol' Casey Jones! But now I'm a girl too!" 

"So do I... call you a boy, or, um... how do I-" 

"You can call me a boy, girl, he, she, whatever! Just don't call me late for hockey practice!" 

Raphael could now state with confidence that he had the most annoying boyfriend and girlfriend on the entire planet. 

"So, do you wanna tell anyone else or just... keep it between us?" 

Casey thought it over for a minute. "Ya think your brothers are gonna be like you were?" 

"They should. We're mutant turtles, we're used to people reacting to us weird. But ya know Donnie will probably tease you 'bout it." 

"Eh. I don't care what he does, he's pretty wimpy at insults. Nothin' like you, babe!" 

Raph chuckled, remembering all the times in battle that he'd thrown some killer insult, and heard Casey laugh in the distance. At least somebody liked his jabs! "Thanks, Case. Ya know I love ya, right?" 

"You gettin' soft on me, Raphie?" 

"Only for my girl." Casey blushed bright red, biting his lip and burying her head in Raph's shoulder. 

"FUCK, why does that feel so nice-" 

"Now who's gettin' soft?" 

"Shut up, douchebag, I didn't know bein' a girl would be this nice!" 

"But it feels good?" He sure didn't get it, but if it made Casey happy, then he would do whatever it took to make sure she stayed that way. "It feels AWESOME. Like, like there's been a part of me missing for years and you just gave it to me with one fuckin' WORD." 

That's what it felt like to Casey? Raph calling him a girl was that important? He'd never felt like a part of him was missing after he found Casey, Casey was the missing piece, as corny as that sounded to him. He would ask her more questions later, but for now, he was going to enjoy this time alone with his lover before the Foot attacked again or some random goon tried to threaten the city. They both deserved a well-earned break and a nice cuddle session after everything they'd been through together. 

Not that the aforementioned cuddle session could lay to rest Raph’s own thoughts and worries. Moments of levity, whenever he, Casey, and the others weren’t facing mortal danger in one way or another, were few and far between, which made relaxing a feat only achievable by someone like Mikey, who Raph was sure was down a brain cell or two or ten. 

Casey, for all her virtues, contrary to what Donnie seemed to be holding fast to, didn’t really relax anymore, and Raph had noticed.

Between school, patrolling, spending time with Raph, hockey, staying an active figure in her sister’s life, maintaining enough energy to deal with his dad, and probably devoting some time to thinking extensively about the whole gender thing, sleep, and relaxation were both about as frequent as a blue moon. 

Which was probably why the vigilante was out in record time, snoring lightly as all the tension finally left his body in the way only sleep could do. If Raph held him a little tighter, it's not like anyone could prove it – not even Donnie.

The temperature of the lair was never really finite and pretty dependent on the temperature topside, and as they had quickly figured out, thermostats hadn’t been super high on Donnie’s list of fixes since the Kraang and the Foot had taken notice of them.

Because of that, Raph curled in a little closer, running a three-fingered hand through Casey’s hair. It was a little difficult, given how tall Casey was (and no, dickwad, Raph wasn’t short, everyone else except for Mikey and Leo was unfairly tall as fuck), but he managed, inching up so their heads were level with each other. It was also a useful position if Casey leveled a kick at him because then Raph was in a position to kick back as a gag reflex. 

“G’night, Case,” he whispered, and Casey nuzzled in a little closer, and Raph felt her breath hitch against him momentarily before leveling out. 

By now, he’d long perfected the art of sneaking Casey back into his room, sometimes seeing his little sister, and the little squirt would always promise not to breathe a word of it to anybody else, least of all their father.

Most importantly, he was able to sneak Casey into her room without waking said lover, which really was the kicker, given that most days, when Casey was without his corpse paint, he looked metaphorically dead on his feet. This effect was especially heightened on the days when he had his corpse paint, the poor girl actually looking dead on his feet. 

He kept a careful eye on a small radio with an analog clock, the numbers flicking to the early, ungodly hours of the morning, the sweet spot where that god-awful douchebag Arnold Jones would be asleep, or at least so far gone that he likely wouldn’t register a ninja sneaking his son in through the window. And if he did, then there was a good chance it wouldn’t occur to him to inspect the room until Raph was long gone. Of course, there was a minuscule chance that Arnold would catch them, and in that case, Raph and Casey would snatch up Angel and get the hell out of there. If Arnold Jones had a few broken bones to speak of – that was, assuming he’d be able to speak – then it wouldn't be Raph, Casey, or Angel’s problem. 

Raph blinked the lingering thoughts away, despite how much he wanted to let the thoughts persist. 

Performing the difficult task of situating Casey in his arms without waking him, he peered over his girlfriend as he made his way to an exit. 

Jumping across roofs with minimal difficulty, Raph picked out the Jones apartment. Honestly, the place looked like shit, but according to Casey, it had always looked like that.

As Raph touched down on his target roof, he slowed as a particularly hard draft of wind blew in their faces. They had figured out early in the game that the two combined forces would sometimes wake Casey, and Raph believed that Casey deserved any and all of the limited sleep she could get. 

He took them down the rickety stairs that lead into a small balcony, and balanced himself on the railing, finding his center of gravity, before he leaped onto a window ledge, which had been graciously left ajar. Raph ducked into the room and dumped his partner on the bed in one corner of the room. 

“Sleep tight, Case.” The vigilante let out an odd snoring noise like someone had plugged his nose in the middle of the process so that it sounded more like a ‘snurf’ than anything else. 

Raph helped himself to a brief snort at the sound, and for a second, let himself just exist there. 

He took in Casey’s room – the numerous hockey posters and equipment littered around the walls, a mess of school textbooks that spilled out of a broken school bag, a spinny chair in front of a desk that held the remnants of a rotting meal composed of something that smelled fit for an actual turtle. Raph couldn’t help the scrunching of his face that accompanied the aroma of it. 

Raph took the largest blanket from an asymmetrical pile adjacent to the foot of Casey’s bed and brought it over her. 

“You’d be a mess without me, Jones,” Raph muttered as he turned back to the window, allowing a genuine smile to cross his face before closing it behind him and leaping from the railing into the night.

.

.

.

.

A/N: Plan 10, bitches!! If you're going to tell me that Casey was being cis at ALL in that episode, then we're gonna have some problems /j

I feel you, Casey, gender's hard.

But yeah, this chapter was really fun to write! Oz and I hope you enjoyed!

[edge-oftheworld]

“yknow as a fandom I think we could do a better job of appreciating Sierra Deaton”

No just have less appreciating Sierra cause she’s been anti-black, a creep towards fans, invalidated a 5sos fan’s mental health because they’re a fan, trauma dumped on young fans and overshared, slut shamed Ashton, and so on and so forth

hey anon!! Thanks for this concise little list. But seriously, thanks for making me think and pull together a bunch of ideas in my head; I hope in this essay really you can see some of my thought process. I can’t imagine how hard it’d be to be reaching out with something really hard and expect compassion and get a negative interaction instead—if that was you or whoever it is I hope they’re doing better and finding community and people who care. And I don’t want to pretend she’s perfect or has done everything right, we know that’s not how it is, Sierra knows that, Luke knows that, so does, idk, God.

and I’ll admit I’m a bit old fashioned when it comes to cancelling people and I do like to try and see the good in people where possible—sometimes imo it’s the only way to get any positive change. to look beyond the superficial where someone might lash out—is it in malice, or fear, a momentary impulse they might regret later or maybe realise for some reason were pushed to a point where they couldn’t manage anything better. I know I’ve been to that point and I know how I spiral if I don’t know how to forgive myself. I also know this is a fandom where shit gets real and we’re young and hurting and sometimes that just makes us defenceless against our idols and those around them being human, and the shitty side of human we all have potential to become too. And we live in an era of systemic racism and lack of access to mental health services which both causes and exacerbates so many issues that, was the world not so anti-black; had every mentally ill child and youth a support network in real life (instead of the way many of us often spend years only ever feeling seen by the songs we listen to, 5sos songs easily filling in that need)—we might be a little more able to be like ‘wtf that’s not cool but that’s a her problem’ and move on. and can I say we do deserve a world that doesn’t discriminate. And in order to get what we deserve we have to make it. and in order to make it we have to learn how to do better and let people learn to do better—these people aren’t going anywhere. somehow bad people have to turn into good people and yes in order to do that they have to be made accountable. Repentance is truly a beautiful thing; it’s also something that can’t happen when we feel scared and in our survival brain. When we feel like that we tend to easily get into us vs them and dig deeper into our (often wrong) convictions and that’s actually an evolutionary response to when we have to fight against predators; we don’t have time to think ‘but what if they’re actually in the right’ when we’re fighting for our lives.

and this isn’t the place to psychoanalyse Sierra. I don’t know exactly what goes on in her head, I don’t know if she’s sorry or even remembers these things but I do know the rift between her and fans has been quite heated and even scary at some points over the years. And maybe I have the privilege of never being someone who has been hurt by her to have grace for the fact that ‘gotta be nice to this fan they’re having an experience of a lifetime to be interacting with my partner and I’m gonna give the benefit of the doubt that they’re not one of the individuals in a sea of fans who all look identical to me sending me death threats’ is a hell of a lot to put your brain through every single day. If she (and it’s not if, we know she did) make mistakes. If there was too much trauma to hold and she put it out on the internet to cope in a season of her life. If the insecurity became jealousy of one of the most important people in her s/o’s life which became insults that were thrown around back in high school before everyone realised how uncool they were and tried to stop using them but they were still burned in their brains to come out on impulse (I actually have no idea how that specific event went down, or if there were one or multiple). I hope they sorted that out internally; I don’t know what else I can do but trust that it’s something they’re capable of doing and care for each other enough as a group of friends and songwriters to do.

I wanted to save the lateral racism example for last because I feel like everything above is kind of a metaphor for it, if you follow. I’m coming from a place where I’m southeast asian and part white living in a largely western country, so is Sierra, so I’m automatically going to see her as ‘like me’ (and can I say how rarely I get this kind of representation?) whereas if you’re black, or if you find your experience more relatable to blackness, then you’re going to experience this very differently. I can’t know your experience. I also know that asians can be brutal in this area: it’s the reason my childhood best friend hasn’t told her dad she got engaged to her partner nearly a year ago. Lateral racism isn’t okay. But unfortunately what happens is often when you’re discriminated against in some ways we’re conditioned to take the side of the oppressor against someone who’s discriminated against in other ways. It’s all ‘okay maybe I’m x and I should be y but at least I’m not z’ and again it’s that evolutionary survival instinct to not be at the bottom of the pile; channeled in horrible ways into today’s society. It takes a lot of effort and self awareness to be like ‘we’re united in this experience of being oppressed, together we have the power to make a stand that this is Not Cool’ and most of us fail the first few times. but what’s important is we keep trying. we can all heal together when we do.

so anon I have no idea who you are or your background or how much you’ve had to wrestle with this yourself, if you’ve had to stand up against communities who were hostile, if you’ve had to do this while being discriminated against from outside as well, if you know the experience of not fully being one race but not fully being another etc. and also you’ve got no obligation to like Sierra, this is such unsolicited advice but this whole release period for boy ep I’ve really just been thinking ‘it’s healthy to feel our feelings even when it’s not always pleasant isn’t it’ and wherever that hurt is please love it embrace it bring it into the light whatever you do to realise you’re valuable and you don’t have anything to be ashamed of. even your mistakes and where you’ve hurt people and regret that, you’re gonna grow so much from that and have so many chances to do better. maybe you’re young and you haven’t had the chance to hurt anyone yet. I hope you manage to stay that way but if you do, I hope you can forgive yourself too. I hope you dip your toes in activism for Black Lives Matter, for mental health, for sex positivity, I can see you really value these things and that’s really encouraging to see.

and in the end: sometimes I have to be annoyingly human and come down to the fact that I really enjoy the songs that Sierra writes. I’ve fanned enough about gothic summer on this blog already. I enjoy the things she writes and so I listen to them, and I’m not actively boycotting Sierra specifically, I love the creative outcomes when she works with 5sos as a whole, with Luke, with other artists I love as well. As a result I do care about her as a person, I always do, and hey, I respect her funny little routine donations and the undertones of her UNICEF donation back in October and the random animal sanctuary and the occasional nod to some Australian mental health charity.

I’ve inferred a lot about how much more relaxed and at ease and free to feel things and process life at his own pace Luke seems to be with her than beforehand—and the fan in me who’s so protective of these guys just desperately wants someone to be there for them in ways that really matter and I feel like we have seen that, even despite the often rocky nature of the relationship between Sierra and Luke’s fans. Luke is someone I relate to a lot, and there are some experiences that are really hard to come back from, and I’m really proud of him right now and I do get the impression being with Sierra has really helped him get there. I don’t know for sure, I could be wrong, but I’m always going to be grateful when celebrities get to be human and not have their lives and choices dictated by fans either directly or indirectly. I’ll take the allies I can in my activism and even if there are criticisms around sincerity I do generally see Sierra trying and I want to appreciate that. I don’t want to say she hasn’t hurt anyone ever and I pray for resolution and peace for the fans, for Ashton, for her, for the Black community in general, for everyone who’s been hurt in the wake of colonialism and the generational trauma it breeds. And then I’ll go listen to bloodline and think, maybe in some ways we were born inheriting the sins of our parents before we knew better. But every day I discover ways of choosing better and compassion takes us so far and I hope every day I learn a bit more about how to channel that.

thank you for the ask, it really got me thinking and the opportunity to compile some thoughts I’d had that I didn’t realise formed a neat little mindmap around Sierra as a case study!! Much more fun than regular sociology. And I didn’t even get to delve into the political history of Saigon that I’ve been trying to understand more about!!

[personasintro]

Heeey, I would like to hear your opinion on something. So, I’m a third year Med student. Our classes don’t work as other college classes, we rotate in small groups at different hospitals every month. This semester our group was composed by 11 people, next semester it will have to be 8. So, my “friends” of this rotation group just threw me out of the group. They sent the list of the group with the names, without telling me about it. And it’s not easy to make a nice rotation group with people who actually do stuff, and are understanding and know how to “share” the patients we get. I even cried because I actually thought they were my friends. We were in the same rotation group for the first three years of med school. Obviously they don’t care about me. They did not apologised to me and now they act as if nothing happened. I was really close to one of the girls, she’s also an ARMY and we really connected through that. I met her family, got close to her sister as well, the three of us did sleepovers at her place, traveled together and if we were going to make a new rotation group I thought she would choose me instead of the other girls, but she decided to stay with them and left me alone, with no group at all. We kind of talked and I told her I was really upset and she said that she chose what was best for her, and she would never choose someone else over me BUT THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT SHE DID !!! I was so sad at that moment that I said I did understand her and that it was fine (I just wanted to be alone and let myself feel what I was feeling) but now that sadness and anger has “calm down” I don’t feel fine. I’m still upset, and now I don’t know how to act around her. At the same time, I just want them all very far away from me while I clear my head (I’m going through finals next week) and live my life, and I’m also angry and want to teach some lessons. I have been trough a lot in life, and it has become easy for me to cut people out of my life (not something I’m proud about), but I really like her, I honestly tough we had the type of connection that you become friends for life. It would hurt but it would be much more easier to just cut her out of my life, but I would like her to try and make things right. But she has to really try you know, she has to prove to me that I’m important and that she wants to be in my life. Don’t know what to do, HELP.

Hey! I’m so sorry that happened to you, I can totally understand why this would hurt you or make you angry. Especially since you thought she’s a friend. I know how awful it can be when you don’t know what to do. I’ll give you an advice I’d give to my friend. (I’ll try to be helpful 😭) you’ve got a few options what to do. If doing nothing helps, maybe trying to communicate your feelings with her might help. Just be honest, say that you got really hurt by it and see if being friends with her is worth it. I know how tough it can be losing a friend or getting out of touch with them. It’s never easy but you gotta tell yourself if that person is worth of your friendship or not. Honestly, I can’t speak for her because I don’t see inside her mind but a true friend wouldn’t do something like this behind your back and say “I did what was best for me” and then say “she would never choose someone else over you”. It’s hard for me to say more because I don’t know what kind of vibes is she giving among other things.

The other option is just to move past it and see if she’ll bring it up. Or if she might feel sorry at some point.

Or simply just ignore her. Don’t let yourself to get treated like this if it truly hurt you. But like you said, you’d like for her to make things better. So I think the communication might be the best decision, it would give you answers you need :))

In the end, you gotta do what’s best and the most comfortable for you.

[softsky-daily]

12/18/2023

If you squint really hard you can see the white speck that is the moon.

Positive thing: I actually finished another book within the day, and I made more yummy fried rice.

The book wasn't that good, but still, it's been a very long time since I've just read through books daily like this. I honestly think it might've been high school when I last read so often. College really kept me too busy and my brain too evaporated to focus on recreational reading so it's nice to get back to it.

I was reading in the middle of work since I had finished literally all the tasks I could think of within like 2 hours and my coworker somehow got me to do all the heavy lifting for some books she wanted to move today. I think I'm mostly annoyed because I just can't understand what she's thinking. It's one thing to be given a task by our boss and she's asking for help, I don't mind that so much since I can understand why she's doing it, but as far as I could tell (and after I questioned her and got a response like "I just feel like they'll want us to move it so let's do it before they ask") there was no reason for us to move them now. I hate doing things for no reason and I especially hate doing things for no reason that someone else roped me into doing for them. Waste my time in a way that's logical or fun at least but if it's completely busy work that you want to do but make me do then get outta here.

Ok I just deleted a whole other paragraph complaining about my coworker and now you're seeing this instead. You've been spared a very long and salty ramble.

Anyway, switching gears so I stop getting re-upset about my coworker, I legit still haven't stopped thinking about 逃げ恥. I've tried to keep quieter about it mostly because the level at which I love it so much is embarrassing to admit but also there's hardly an English audience for it? Which makes sense, but I can't even find gifs or whatever of it on Tumblr and I thought they liked dramas on here. It was a huge phenomenon in Japan, so I've mostly been lurking around random Japanese blogs trying to get my fix on the meta response to the show.

I think if I had to put into words the specific things that make it hit for me specifically I'd list it out like this:

The main female lead literally has a grad degree in clinical psychology so she's me fr. Also I think she's really pretty

The main male lead is respectful and grows so much throughout the show it reminds me of how Tumblr people go crazy for that guy in Pride and Prejudice because he cleans up his act. I also think he's really pretty

A lot of the show is actually a social commentary, which I find fascinating especially from a Japanese context

The romantic shenanigans are so good because they're based on playing with social hierarchies which to me is the coolest way to explore relationship dynamics of any kind

It feels comfortable through the very end, with nothing feeling overly contrived or like they were miscommunicating for no reason

Alright I'll stop myself there or this post will be longer than it already is. I gotta get to work tomorrow good night

[guess-ill-dye]

Thanksgiving is coming tomorrow!

Do you celebrate it? Sometimes gratitude or giving thanks to things may come off as a big and somewhat unpleasant word. It may feel as if you are forced to acknowledge something that you already love, and that kills all the joy in this type of self-care, isn’t it?

That’s why instead of asking myself “what am I most grateful for?” I instead say “what makes me the most happy?” it’s definitely okay to not come up with things that makes you happy at first, it happens to me too! But maybe you can start with something easy…like cats?

So, would you want to make a list (even one thing is enough) of stuff that makes you happy? And you can even explain why if you want to!

—Self-care anon

OMG TY ANON :333

I don't celebrate Thanksgiving ( I'm from Europe :]), but I love the concept! (Bunch of food with family and friends, a day to celebrate happiness, well duh)

and yes!!! <33

( in no particular order )

1. My stuffies <33

I really find it hard to talk to real ppl about my feelings, so they have helped ( and still help, but my mom took some from me bcs I'm "too old":P) me a lottt!! Also they are so comfortable to sleep with omggggggg I love all of them and have been adopting more and more over the years! ( my first was when I was 2, and I now have 14! ( Ik a bit too much ) and since my mom took them away I have 7:( )

2. Thinking about my cat! :3

My mom ( again ) dislikes cats a lot, and we had a cat named Simba (<333333) that I absolutely love and she decided to give him away after several threats abt killing him ( poisoning his food, abandoning him, poisoning him directlyz throwing him out of the window ( I live in the 5th floor ) ) and I have been trying to get the new owner to let me see him and its has been hard, but since now I have ( stole the number from my mom's phone but ITS FOR THE GREATER GOOD OK? ) her number I will try again :) .Thinking about how he would be in a hard time make me happy so yeah gotta include that too :D

3. Music

Ik music is feeling and all of that. I have a designated music time every week and I love and need it! ( currently I am obsessed with "Wrecking ball" by Mother Mother and "CHOKE" from I DON'T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME <3333)

4. TUMBLR

I love it so much and my moots and posting on my little blog it makes me happy <33 and ofc nice persons like anon ty again <3333333

5. My irl friends <3

They are sooo nice I love <333 them sad none of them has Tumblr ( or happy idk haha)

6. Fooooooood

I LOVE FOOD FIGHT ME OVER IT

7. Learning new things

I have no explanation, I just love it <3

8. Reading

Cleanses my soul omg transcendent state fr

And that it! Tysm anon and wow this took me 20 min! I honestly feel more hopeful for life wow my day was not going that well tysmm <333333

[arcaneyouth]

Hmmm.... top 10 OCs and why you like them! Also allowed is just giving their entire backstory with each answer.

OH FUCKIN BOY this ones almost definitely going under a read more thanks

1) JOE!!!!

ironically i cant explain this one in detail sorry thats still spoilers. we are getting there in my comic i fucking promise just give me. another year. or two. fuck. anyways he's just!!!! he's my silly!!! he helped me figure out a lot about myself and what i wanted from the world and i kind of accidentally processed some of my biggest traumas through him and because of that every day he is a reminder that life continues, the time will pass anyways, tomorrow will always come, and fear of something ending does not have to control you

2) amedeo my fucked up piece of shit amedeo. ive already written paragraphs upon paragraphs about him in several different places so i will refrain from doing it again and focus on Why he means so much to me. he's kind of! like a counterweight to what joe helps me with? like joe reminds me i have the freedom to do whatever i want with my life, and amedeo reminds me i still gotta fucking be nice to people or that will have consequences i dont want. if i were to live my life purely by what joe helped me figure out i wanted, i would become amedeo and thats like not. good ADGAHFS and i have fallen down that path before. and there was still hope for him. so theres still hope for me. hes also really pretty

3) oh fuck now i have to choose between my beloveds. UHHHHHH dara we're going dara. honestly she only gets this high up the list because shes joes girlfriend, but she is still really interesting and special to me. dara did genuinely awful things.... 70 years ago. things she has spent the rest of her life trying to make up for. she is a good person who is trying so hard. she also cant even see how hard shes trying and sabotages herself often. she is the narrator of the story and its not a role she can bear. because she knows its not her story to tell. so she hands it to theron and lets them paint her as a monster, lets everyone believe she deserves whats coming to her, that shes the scum of the earth. and she knows her side of the story will change things. and she does not give it. she thinks the best way to make up for everything shes done is to finally let theron speak. its their story. and she is their villain. she knows its true. even as shes still trying, still trying to help people, still trying to survive one day at a time, still trying to improve (even if shes not good at it). she is still therons villain. she wont take that from them

4) reverie somethings fucking wrong with them. and you cant even blame them for it. at least when i go on unreality spirals i can get someone to confirm things are real and thatll help pull me out of it. reverie cant trust a word anyone tells them because Nobody Else Is Real. They Are All Made Of Code. of course an npc would tell reverie the world is real. of course the ai living in the game would tell reverie the world is real. what else can they do. the only other player, the only other real person in this game, left them. and now its just reverie. they cant find meaning in a life theyve replayed hundreds and hundreds of times. they get trapped in their own head because thats the only thing thats real. and their head isnt filled with any comfort. they are much too far gone to be helped by the people who care about them. and so the people who care about them choose to make them worse.

reverie is interesting to me because they are an awful person who just needed to let someone hold their hand and help them through their hardest days, but i know if i was in their position, i wouldnt have accepted it either. shattering what little hope they had left was genuinely the only way to get them to snap out of it and want help. if theyd just had a hug, that they could consider real, maybe theyd have been ok. but they couldn't.

5) eden, girl got dragged down hard by reveries spiraling. got treated like less than a person by them so much she believed she wasnt a person either. and none of it really mattered, in the end. everything she went through was about reverie. never her. for the entire story up until that point, it had never been about her, and at her lowest point at least she thought she had some kind of meaning and purpose as she shoved her sword through reveries chest and killed them in a way they couldn't just respawn from. and none of that was about her either. just reverie. any emotions eden felt did not matter for the plot elysium wrote. edens tragedy just fucks me up because she goes through so much for nothing and she still has to just wake up the next day and keep going. and she will. she just has to find something that matters, to her

6) theron this kids fucked up theyre like 10 and experiencing horrors beyond their comprehension

7) elysium,,,,, shes really pretty and also shes trying so damn hard to save reverie but the only way she can do it is to ruin their AND eden's lives. she's a good person. she writes the story and there was nothing she could do!! she just wants everyone to love the world she helped create for them and they Cant and that breaks her heart. she looks like shed give warm hugs and hand me a juice box

8) rowena. somethings wrong with her <3 she is kind, she is awful, she kills for her own fucked up sense of justice, she is the kindest person theron has ever met, she justifies innocent bystanders getting caught in her wrath because if they didnt want to die maybe they shouldnt have been on the wrong side, she is giving a 10 year old reason to hope and love again. she genuinely cannot be considered a good or bad person because every move she makes helps AND harms others at the same time. shes fun!

9) raid, they are another player of the game just like reverie (tho they dont know each other) and they are so comfortable with their life and they make me so happy. they wake up on a day theyve seen hundreds of times, and ask themself what they can do to make it special. life is what you make of it, and raid has made it into a love letter to everything thats ever existed. they have no control over when the resets and reloads happen since reverie is always doing it before they can even consider it, and they are ok with that. they really have a grip on what a joy it is to simply be alive

10) I CANT CHOOSE. FUCK YOU

[ducktracy]

for the art asks: 3, 4, 11, 21 :)

3. Least favorite things to draw?

THIS IS GENUINELY HARD… “i don’t have one” is such a cheater answer! but as i’ve drawn more and more and gotten more out of my comfort zone, i find i don’t really dread drawing anything as much? being a professional artist is kind of nice because regardless of how you feel about what you’re drawing (not talking like morally objectionable stuff of course), you still GOTTA DRAW IT! which actually sounds horrible now that i put it that way BUT I MEAN IT IN A GOOD WAY LOL. like, i can groan and gripe about something, but at the end of the day there’s an end product that needs to be achieved and grumbling to myself isn’t gonna do me any favors.

i used to not like drawing cars, which i know is a pretty shared experience, but having gotten used to drawing cars for work or personal art i don’t mind as much anymore, and actually enjoy the challenge! i’m always looking to challenge myself, and i think that mindset has helped me a lot. i always tell my supervisors that i’ll draw anything they put in front of me LOL

4. Favorite things to draw?

TOO MANY TO LIST… so predictable of me to say this but Daffy and/or Porky are definitely up there regardless HAHA. it is very true though! they’re very forgiving to me. i can get into their minds well, and they’ve known me and my pencil enough to know what to do. we have a good relationship!! they’re always two characters i can draw with ease and feel good drawing. i will never run out of inspiration with them.

like any artist, i have a lot of Personal Artistic Philosophies, and one of my biggest is that i view my art as a conversation. i try to get into the heads of the characters i draw. at the same time, i feel like a director—telling them where to stand, what to pose, what to emote, no, this isn’t working, i need a little more from you, good, good, maybe try it like this, etc. it’s something i’ve embraced tenfold as of late, seeing as my job relies on this whole principle—getting into the minds of the characters and making them act believably, endearingly, and innocently funny. i really just like getting to draw any sort of character that i can build that “”relationship”” with, so to speak. it’s especially nice with my favorite characters or characters who are receptive to me back, so like Daffy or Porky or SpongeBob and so on.

on a LESS philosophical note though, i DO love painting as well. i really enjoy every part of the art process (and i’m not just saying that!), but i find coloring and painting and rendering particularly zen. it’s rewarding to watch the fruits of my labor come together and materialize! likewise, there’s less stress, because painting and coloring can be more ambiguous—i’m not doing thumbnails or rough layers of how i’m gonna color something, not struggling to figure out the construction or perspective of color. it’s a nice leisurely change of pace and is something i find relaxing… which is good and rare considering i’m firing on all cylinders otherwise! my mind is always going 37466372mph and so it’s nice to have something to ground it.

11. Favorite comment you’ve ever received on your work?

THIS I DO HAVE A MORE STRAIGHTFORWARD ANSWER TO HAHA.. i’m so fortunate enough to have been told many, many kind things from friends, coworkers, supervisors, followers and strangers alike. i make a point to internalize every compliment i get—acts of kindness are something i take very seriously and i’m very, very sentimental. i’ve been told many great things over the years and i am sincerely lucky for all of them.

one of the most profound, though, was Bob Clampett’s daughter, Ruth, commenting this on my tribute to The Great Piggy Bank Robbery (and yes i’m posting the screenshot because i still can’t believe it!!)

i’ve been lucky to have been told MANY nice things.. but i don’t think a single comment has ever made me bawl like a baby more than that one LOL. i still get emotional thinking about it! it reminded me of how eternally lucky i am to be doing what i am.

21. Weirdest thing you’ve ever drawn?

THERE’S QUITE A VARIETY TO CHOOSE FROM.. i have “i was on deviantArt when i was 11” syndrome so that spawned a lot of. interesting things. i truly could not narrow it down.. but i immediately thought of this one so. i don’t know what it means or who this is either

thanks for the asks!!