#you can pry these lil guys from my cold dead hands :]

[lordichamo]

SO UH. ITS REALLY FUN TO DESIGN/REDESIGN BOTS.

Design Notes (WARNING. LONG AS HELL)

General note: if im givin em (slight) digitigrade legs im givin em a tail. for balance. and for funsies.

Daigo (M-DIG)

its his stupid lil jacket

to differentiate him from fishiki (both predominately white/monochrome bots) only his upper half is white. again. jacket...

platforms. #shortkingdaigo

slightly wider waist (still. snatched as hell. bc the bots look like that)

Mine (M-MIN)

kirin influence

rgg can pry his red/brown/gold color palette out of my cold dead hands.

pretty sure the lil fur tuft on his tail is real fur.

congrats! you programmed a robot that can experience love! unfortunately this means that he & his bf are going to be Insufferable

Has the gunshot wounds Mine sustained on The Ruff

ALT: he uhm. he fell.

Ryuji (M-RYJ)

BIG FUCKIN DRAGON !!!!!!!!!

added in the black from his coat trim. + the other colors are a combo of his suit + the one dragon from the strength tarot.

also wider waist than default

Has the gunshot wounds Ryuji sustained in the finale

ALT: i think they just . gave him a random spare part arm HJGHKWEHTLEW it doesnt even match w/ his colors..... doesnt even turn into a gun either booo

Nishiki (M-NSK)

hes fish !! i was allllmost considering giving him a fancy lil tail fin thingy but mrrr. nah.

again . lots of focus on differentiating him & daigo. adding more colors n shit helps

if u look reeeeal close in the midsection the uhh. black section has a real faint y0 shirt design.

shortest of the 4 if you don't account for Daigo's platforms.

ALT: i had to look up. so many burnt out cars. anyway. he exploded.

Kiryu

dragon elements but more normal abt it. he doesn't care as much as ryuji (who is. #1 territorial dragonposter rep)

bulkyyy. his legs are the closest to what the actual canon bots have???

Akiyama

bird but also catboy. stray cat strut......

first robot to experience the effects of smoking (outdated)

the lil gold accents come from his lil necklace

Saejima

yes the fur pauldrons are real fur. scritching him....

obligatory tigerposting. this does mean he's SO patterns though.

Tanimura

this guy's got turtle shells. rounding out the whole 4 gods motif

otherwise. pretty standard design. shortest of the 4. etc.

Masato

a lil busted to hell n back

most exposed wiring

most snatched waist of the bots

Cancelled Governor Ryo Aoki

literally just repurposed the masato bot lmfao

anything pure blue was entirely replaced, otherwise they just kinda sorta. painted over. lmao.

bulkier replacement legs since support was an issue

[writing-for-the-gays]

ermm i have another request to make :3c if thats ok :3c

billy loomis and stu macher (both of em, in the poly way :3c) x reader with all of the specifications i had in my last request with uhmmmm :3c knife play :3c and predator/prey dynamics :3c

again, reader being fat nd hairy being central to the story :3c

also again, do whatever format and length you want ^_^

-🐛 anon

'Can I get a kiss? And can you make it last forever?'

Billy Loomis x trans male! Stu macher x trans male! hairy! reader

Again with these things being self indulgent, reader is a disk jockey and a radio host who spreads misinformation Abt the lads so they can fuck two serial killers for a lil longer .

Brought to you by ovulation and weed.

I'm a Stu fucker so Billy is a little neglected.

I read hairy and ran with it.

You can pry my trans male stu hc out of my cold dead hands.

I wasn't sure how to end it but I did it.

Up to my usual bullshit

- You were supposed to be a victim, a little bit of a trial run before everyone else.

- you were a generally quiet guy, they didn't think that anyone would really notice you disappeared. Save for the fact the news station would have to get a new host, but who even really listened to it. Billy and Stu definitely didn't listen to it.

-they probably should've though. Desensitize each other to it. But they didn't.

- so when they called you Stu's face instantly turned red and he hung up. Which confused the hell out of Billy. ("Stu, what the hell was that?!" "His voice, man! It's making my fucking head foggy-!" "Fine I'll fucking do it!")

- Billy wasn't any better, but at least he was talking to you unlike Stu.

- he's palming himself through his jeans just listening to you try to tell him off for calling, but then he starts talking about fucking you with a knife to your throat and you go quite.

- he keeps going and he hears you panting on the other end, and he doesn't assume you're touching yourself at first.

- but then you fully moan while listening to him talk about fucking you balls deep and he's not dumb so he can put 2+2 together.

- he asks what room you're in and you give it too easy (he knows where you are, he can see your shadow from the window.)

-and soon you have two strangers fucking you so hard you can't think!

- Stu finds out you're trans too and starts rubbing your t-dicks together, and Billy fucks into Stu's hand, and you watch as they make out and-

- you cum so hard you literally pass out.

- Stu thinks he's killed you, and honestly, if he had you would've died happy, but he didn't and so you wake up to a very concerned Stu and a cackling Billy.

- You're fine obviously. But Stu still tries to be gentle with you, Billy keeps teasing your t-dick though, more fascinated with it than anything else, it's different than Stu's bc he's gotten surgery to make it appear bigger so he's just seeing how it's different, and he finds out you're significantly more sensitive!

- you three become semi regular fuck buddies, and when the official killings start you pretend you have no idea who's doing them, you pretend that when stu and Billy come over covered in blood to fuck your brain out you don't almost cum in your pants.

- then fuck buddies become something more. Somewhere in-between that first call and being bent over the bed as stu pegged you and Billy fucked your mouth 6 months lster you'd fallen in love with them.

- in the heat of the moment as you come moaning their names you say it.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"Fuckfuckfuck! Fuck right- right there please right there- Stu " your fingers sink into the sheets as you pull away from Billy, whose cum you'd just finished swallowing; mouth finally free to beg like the good boy you where.

"so good- so good Stu it's- ngh- haah please please more, need you to touch my cock~." The double ended dildo you were oh so familiar with fucked into you.

"Gonna cum- Please Please- Please-"

Normally you would fake it with penetration, there wasn't that much pressure in it... but with Stu- oh Stu was special, he knew exactly what to do with it, what to do to make your toes curl and your eyes roll back.

He denied your request with a simple scoff.

"No- not yet, I'm not even close, you can cum when I cum got it?"

You nod desperately, needing to submit to the look in his eyes. Filled with hunger, the urge to hunt. His hands travel up your body to your neck, resting on your Adam's apple.

Gently pressing down and cutting off your air Stu lets out an airy chuckle. "You don't even put up a fight... Fuck- don't even get the thrill of the chase with you, I just fuck you so good you forget that you're rubbing dicks with the big bad Ghostface..."

He grinds his hips, the dildo inside of you lets out a wet noise that makes your eyes squeeze shut and face go bright red.

"Fuck-! Pretty boy you're so wet, Jesus, it's the prettiest fuckin thing I've every seen, just glistenin' and shit-"

His free hand goes to your thigh, massaging the flesh and playing with some of the dark coarse hair that covered it.

He places his hand flat and plays with the fat on your thighs, watching as it jiggles with every harsh thrust he gives you. He admires the way they look powerful, dark hair covering your body, he admires the way you look different from him.

The way your body was covered in thick hair, starting from your face (a light stubble, and the starting of an already well maintained moustache)

to your chest (dark hair covering two mounds of mouth wateringly hot flesh, softer and bigger version of Billy's pecs.)

to your cunt (fuck the way your hairy cunt rubbed against his clean shaven one made him weak, he didn't know something like that could even turn him on that much.)

to your legs (You wore a pair of shorts mid summer once and both Billy and Stu couldn't keep their eyes off your legs).

Stu was thin and almost totally hairless, what hair he had was sparse and blonde, it hadn't changed with T for him, and he wasn't mad. He generally likes being hairless, a preference.

He was always at least trimmed if not fully shaved down there. (To show off his t-dick, that surgery was expensive. Wasn't as expensive as full Phalloplasty tho.)

A Twink in all regards making his big handsome bear fall apart on some silicone, it made his dick throb, twitching in-between his folds.

He locks eyes with Billy who's staring at you intently, focusing on the way you seem completely out of it, face flushed, mouth hanging open and eyes squeezed closed in concentration. Trying not to cum until you where told.

Your cunt flutters helplessly against the dildo in you, It's slick, not just with your juices but his as well, the double ended dildo didn't have any barrier to prevent your juices from mixing, or your t-dicks from grinding together with each thrust.

Billy's once softening cock perks right back up when stu brings his hand in-between your bodies to rub at both of your cocks. finally.

Your mouth hangs open and Billy doesn't hesitate to take the opportunity to thrust into your mouth, leaning over you to capture Stus lips in a heated kiss, tongues sloppily rubbing against each other as they use you. Billy's hands rests on your chest, running his fingers over the thick dark hair and massaging your boobs while playing with your nipples. He's not in your mouth long, mind you, still overly sensitive. He jerks off slow and steady as he watches you two.

Then you're cumming, eyes rolling back mouth hanging open. It's like your body is lit on fire, thighs jolting and quivering

you babble "Fuck! Fuck I love you- I love you your cock is so big- your so fucking hot, both of you, need-need both of you-!" Your hips are rolling wildly, right against Stu's clit. Which sends him over the edge face scrunching up before it relaxes and his mouth hangs open.

Billy comes on your face with a low growling noise slumping over as his cum decorates your cheeks his cock twitching with every shot of jizz.

After a moment Billy lets out a soft chuckle, breath heaving.

"Stu... I told you they'd say it first."

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

- you three are basically inseparable.

- the girls think you're just best friends, and considering the fact you're a disk jockey with the school radio station they don't put if past the boys to just be using you to play their favorite songs more often.

- you also did the morning news, and you always reported on the ghost face killings. Billy would sit under the desk and suck particularly hard on your dick if you said something that would throw the investigation off.

- Billy loves playing with your ass, he's such an ass man it's almost funny.

- he gets hard just watching you walk away. Especially if you have a particularly large ass. (His nickname for you is booty.)

- he just grabs a handful of your ass.

- both of them are constantly horny have fun trying to keep their hands off of you.

- y'all's sex playlist is mostly disco

[assless-chapstick]

BABY JOHN HEADCANONS

not like baby baby but like he's MY baby yk? my babygirl as a baby before he was babygirl when he was a little baby boy

• When the gang gets John - cuz let's be real, they get him the way one gets a puppy or a case of smallpox - he's fresh off that attempted hanging. It was more of a lynching than anything, an impromptu eye-for-an-eye killing after John shot a feller with his own god damned gun. What made a twelve year old mad enough, scared enough to kill, and how'd he manage to grab the guys gun? Kid won't say

• kid won't say much of anything, really. The gang had a disgraced doctor running with them at the time, a guy so hooked on his own cures and tinctures you wouldn't trust him to diagnose a hole in the head, and he said the noose had crushed John's larynx. Sure, the boy can still talk, but it ain't ever gonna sound the same and for the first lil while it'll be hard as hell, but he should be able to. So why don't he?

Doc says maybe the lynching, lack of oxygen to the brain made him go daft cuz just look at him, ain't a thought behind those eyes.

But Dutch, he has faith, he knows.

I think just the fear and trauma after the incident sent John to a pretty rough place and he went nonverbal for a space of six or nine months. Not right after, maybe, but in the following days and weeks - enough they got a name out of him, an age (he said 12 but he's got the stature of an eight year old, not nearly enough meat on his bones), a little bit of a story. "Where's your daddy, boy?" Dead. "And yer mama?" Dead.

• John was always told his ma was a lady of the night, knocked up on accident and dead in childbirth. He came out with the cord around his neck and his ma bled out before they could even untangle him.

There'd been a picture, though he'd never had the courage to ask his father about it, drunk and angry as he was. A young woman with round features and hooded eyes, long dark hair parted in the center and braided, his father's hand resting gently on her shoulder, both posed like a portrait.

(john is métis/mixed indigenous and you can pry that headcanon from my cold dead fuckin hands)

• in the winter john is so small and skinny he gets too cold at night and Arthur begrudgingly is like "FINE you can share with me" and so they share a bed until John is like 16 fjjfbfbf way too old to be sharing but imho John is a bit of a late bloomer and sort of, not a mamas boy but just kind of a baby yk?? Arthur is like "dontcha think it's time you got your own tent or something?" and John's like "No." and just walks away and Arthur is like "AT LEAST YER OWN COT??"

• john is reptilian in his search for heat he just wants to be warm ever since they got him he's crawled into Arthur's jacket whatever chance he gets

• during that first year especially, John was clingy and strange.... after a particularly terrible bathing experience (Susan is great but she's fastidious about personal hygiene and if water goes above John's navel he starts to freak) Arthur is just posted up by the fire with John sat between his knees, tucked into his jacket as they sit in silence mutually brooding... and John reaches up to rub the stubble on Arthur's jawline as a way of like, stimming n self soothing and Arthur would stop him cuz it's weird but he feels those boney little shoulders loosen and John says something, and he never says Anything so Arthur knows it's a big deal... so he just let's John keep doing it after that

• Susan is highly against taking in a child when they first bring John around - maybe because she thinks the main childcare duties will fall to her, or because she doesn't trust the gang to be a safe place for a kid - and this manifests as a little bit of short-temperedness towards him. it's not unusual, she's kind of a Bitch on the best days, but she's cold towards him at first... and I don't think anything Happens, per sé, no big event, just over time she sees he's a damaged boy in need of mothering and that's a part of herself she tried to kill a long time ago... but he brings it out of her. She nags him to cut his hair but brushes it out for him anyway; she'll share an apple with John if no one's looking, peeling it and quartering it and sneaking him a piece. She'll complain about the food - "God this stew is terrible what's in it? Rat meat? Here John, you finish it" - because sometimes good food is scarce and he's a growing boy and she sees his hungry frame, remembers how he used to steal and hoard food in the early days. They almost always have enough but she wants him to have more than enough. She reads to him, and then when he's learned to she gets him to read to her. A damp cloth on the forehead when he's laid low with fever, maybe a soft lullaby if she thinks no one's around...

• at age 12 John has a smoking habit. I don't know if this is unusual for the era or not and I dont know what the gang thinks of it but the kid loves his tobacco

• in fact John rolls his own cigarettes and, when he's young, that's primarily how he earns his keep - those tiny little kid's hands did a great job and he ends up getting the chore foisted on to him from everyone fndbbdf ( prerolled cigarettes had been invented only 7 years prior)

• at agw john also unfortunately loves to drink. I don't know if this was unusual for the era but I'm sure Hosea and Susan and even Dutch had something to say about it

and I think that's all I got in my head for now fellers.... thanks for reading mister....

[pokemenlovingmen]

A mlm pokeimagines blog? In this economy? God where have you been all my life.

Apologies in advance if its a long ask lol

Seriously though you would not believe how happy I got when I saw this blog pop up! Barely any mlm reader stuff so finding you got my lil poke men loving heart all excited!

If requests are open I was wondering if you could do Emmets reaction to a male reader who loves the fact that Emmet is so blunt? I've seen some stuff like this in the past were reader loves Emmet DESPITE him being so blunt but I love him because of it!! I find it useful and charming!! I have a hard time understanding most people because I'm bad at picking up subtext and stuff in conversation so characters like Emmet that are just blunt and honest are always appreciated!

Also, claiming 🐗 boar anon in advance lol

Hi hi boar anon!!! I’m glad you like my blog so much! I literally made it bc I couldn’t find enough male reader content, and as a trans guy that gendered language is really affirming to me. Also not being courageous enough to get into a relationship with real human people lmao I gotta be gay somehow!! Literally all of you who’ve come to visit me on this blog are so sweet. I changed the blog description up for a reason, it really does feel like I’ve invited a bunch of funny gay guys into my living room and we’re all sitting in a circle whispering about boys. Doing this makes me feel so stupidly comfortable in my own skin and so much like a part of the LGBT community when I’ve had to stand on the sidelines most of my life, I just can’t explain how stupidly therapeutic writing imagines for fictional men from a fictional monster battling game is LMFAOOO

And we’re always here for supporting the autism shit lol, you can pry my autistic submas out of my cold dead hands, my submas will always be pretty heavily headcanoned and a post appreciating those verrry autistic coded traits is a huge win for me :) Emmet deserves to be loved for just being Emmet

Straight (Gay) to the Point— Emmet x Male Reader

⚪️ — Emmet and Ingo have grown up with a lot to be self conscious about, from their appearances to the behavioral quirks they share and the quirks they don’t. Kids can be cruel when you’re neurodivergent so different. So when you get together with Emmet and he comes to realize you LIKE his speaking patterns, he’s floored.

⚪️ — Emmet has always had a lot to say, but he’s quite bad at phrasing things. Compared to his brother who is a constant stream of consciousness, just prattling on about anything and everything that crosses his mind once you get him into conversation, Emmet needs to carefully plan out each word and it never comes out how he wants. Sometimes it feels like with his more approachable appearance (even if some call it creepy) and Ingo’s ability to talk (even if some say he rambles too much), they’re just two halves of one fully functional person. But you like him. Not his brother. Not him and his brother. You like him. How crazy is that?

⚪️ — He doesn’t have time to waste on careful wording. Do that, and he’d be plotting his course of conversation for ages. And he’s rather aware of that fact, so one day, he offhandedly mentions that he’s sorry his bluntness can be so off-putting, and he really hopes he hasn’t said anything to offend you.

⚪️ — Imagine his surprise when you said the contrary! When he heard you liked him because he said exactly what he meant, and he was always so clear-cut and easy to understand, it was like a fuse blew in him. Growing up, he’d always heard the opposite, and while Ingo never criticized him for it, plenty of other people did call him out for being rude when he didn’t mean to be.

⚪️ — He feels verrrry comfortable in conversation with you, yes indeed. Your sense of communication with one another is very strong and any conflict gets resolved very quickly. Emmet is happy to just talk with you and not have to pretend to have conversational skills he doesn’t have. You like him, his brother likes him, that’s all that matters.

⚪️ — He wants to talk with challengers on the Battle Subway more freely, so he’ll often come to you about the best ways to translate the things he wants to say into more “socially acceptable” ways of saying them. Of course, he’s also fully aware that he can come to you and not need to jump through all those hoops.

⚪️ — Since he’s so comfortable with you, he’ll say just about anything to you or around you and knows he can say things to you that will make you laugh, while others would just shush him for it.

⚪️ — After all, nothing makes you laugh quite as hard as sitting on your bed only to hear “OH DEAR! THE GALVANTULAS ARE MATING ON THE SOFA!” from across the apartment. Like cool Emmet, you definitely did NOT need to hear that—also please make them stop??—but that got the best laugh out of you you’ve had in a while.

⚪️ — He’s genuinely just so funny without trying. Another iconic moment you can recall is when, on a Friday night, a particularly inebriated woman was getting a bit too comfy with Emmet, which he was oblivious to at first, too preoccupied with the joy of battling. When you did tell him, though, you ended up laughing your ass off as he gasped and ran off with great urgency to apologize to the woman, as he was unable to reciprocate her advances due to both being taken and, I quote, “a homosexual”.

⚪️ — You’ve definitely made him a lot more comfortable, even in public situations, which he doesn’t seem to realize. The Battle Subway staff has regularly mentioned Boss Emmet has been way chattier than he used to be (which still doesn’t mean anything dramatic, but it’s a big step to him and that’s all it needs to be!) And anyone who has a problem with Emmet’s mannerisms can answer to you.

⚪️ — You’re more than just Emmet’s boyfriend, you gel perfectly into his family. And granted, that family is only Ingo, both of their Pokemon teams and Elesa ever since she basically adopted them, but it’s perfect anyway. It’s not like Emmet has been telling his brother about how much he wants to marry you eventually or anything.

⚪️ — You have literally so many Joltik grandchildren already.

⚪️ — Since both of you can struggle with reading other people, you often put your heads together to try and figure things out. (If it’s anything like the attempts at two neurodivergent people trying to use their combined knowledge to socially navigate that I’ve been a part of, it probably accomplishes nothing, but at least you can both relate to each other’s struggles and have a good laugh about it at the end of the day.)

⚪️ — He acts like a little kid with a crush around you and when he’s not working, he follows you around like a lost puppy.

⚪️ — He also knows that when he’s specifically feeling insecure about his mannerisms, he can lean on you for comfort, because you unashamedly love that about him. All of it. One night, after a particularly rough day, you remember him cuddling up to you and getting teary-eyed about how much you love him.

⚪️ — Please stay in his life, okay?

[zenithpng]

slaps more tourettic Lance propaganda down in front of you

Lance notices something is off early on but he's practically the poster boy for ADHD so he figures it's just that

as a kid his tics are pretty mundane. snapping, tapping, popping his knuckles, stuff like that

his siblings get annoyed with it sometimes, and they don't really get it when he says he feels like he has to

as he gets older they get more complex, but hes largely able to mask and keep things under control

when the paladins find the Blue Lion and go to space, his tics really ramp up and he's got no clue what is happening

he starts having really bad attacks after battles when he's stressed and the adrenaline has worn off

after suffering through it alone for a long while he finally tells Shiro because. how do you explain human brainweirdness to aliens.

and Shiro is like "no yeah dude you have a tic disorder"

Lance has only ever seen Tourette's as "person shouting at inconvenient times" so at first he's all. tic disorder? me? FAKE NEWS.

but then he, yknow, actually thinks about it and goes back to Shiro and is like. heyyy man how do you know 👀

turns out Shiro knows because. he also experiences tics (you can pry Shiro and his functional tics from my COLD DEAD HANDS!!!!!!)

lance is super. whoagh. because whaaaaat his role model has tics? the guy he's looked up to for all these years is like him?

he cries a lil bit but it's ok Shiro won't tell anyone

after the war he uses crutches because he kinda messes up his legs and his tics don't exactly help with that

Lance and Keith trade stims and tics like Pokémon cards

they purposely remove themselves from each other's premises if things start ramping up because it creates a feedback loop and it. isn't exactly fun after a while.

[nebulaegalaxy]

Hi im late but for the character meme, rapidfire round: naven, ramsey, zora, qibli and peril :3c

Naven:

First impression: oh he’s just a lil guy!

Impression now: the therapy friend needs therapy [still love him]

Favorite moment: it’s not even canon but “my epithet is twink!”

Idea for a story: :)!

Unpopular opinion: i actually like ac naven. he’s a lil shit but he’s one of my favorite lil shits

Favorite relationship: none really [unless we count platonic but i’m gonna go w the assumption we’re not]

Favorite headcanon: BOY OH BOY DOES HE ACTUALLY NEED THOSE GLASSES

Ramsey

First impression: scrunkly lil rat man

Impression now: this guy deserves a break holy shit [but i’m not gonna be the one to do it]

Favorite moment: oh! it’s extreme ee spoilers from ac! so i won’t say here so i don’t get yelled at by the portion of ee fandom that didn’t watch it

Idea for a story: [in the middle of trying to brainstorm nicknames he might call molly for yet another “[x adult character] would be a better parent for molly” au]

Unpopular opinion: i don��t think i have one?

Favorite relationship: him and zora and/or percy

Favorite headcanon: GOLD BLUSH GOLD BLUSH GOLD BLUSH

Zora

First impression: oh she’s kinda mean-

Impression now: ma’am i would like your gender [has already stolen her name]

Favorite moment: pretty much most of them, including in ac

Idea for a story: i honestly wanna try to dip into childhood friends stuff w her and percy. we’ve done her and ramsey [multiple times!] and ramsey and percy but.

Unpopular opinion: again, i don’t think i have one

Favorite relationship: her and ramsey and/or percy

Favorite headcanon: she has freckles! and you can pry that from my cold dead hands!

Qibli

First impression: look at this fuckin nerd [/pos]

Impression now: LOOK AT THIS GUY

Favorite moment: every time him and winter bicker like an old married couple

Idea for a story: uuuhh no thoughts head empty a lot of what i might’ve wanted to do has been done

Unpopular opinion: maybe we don’t go there

Favorite relationship: him and winter and/or moon [softly: wibli....]

Favorite headcanon: [chanting] trans qibli trans qibli trans qibli

Peril

First impression: oh she’s a little fucked up actually

Impression now: oh she’s just a lil guy!

Favorite moment: that one bit at the end of her book where she starts a sentence out loud and finishes it in a v stupid way in her head, making moon laugh

Idea for a story: i want her to actually meet her brother

Unpopular opinion: i’m not sure i have one?

Favorite relationship: her and clay [tho she still has some issues to work out]

Favorite headcanon: pan but doesn’t realize bc literally only clay is able to touch her w/o hurting themself

[boygiwrites]

Harley D. Dixon 24

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

📖Chapter List.

Author's Note.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But you know she's—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And of course, I say yes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rick simply grunts, "Welcome back, Jim." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Is that what they did to Shane?"

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

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

Huh? "How you hear about that?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We both know they are. "Yeah."

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

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

"You're pregnant?"

Oh, Lordy. She told him?!

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

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

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

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

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

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

"When's that happen?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Whack!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Let's try this again, huh?"

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

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

"I've always been innocent."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Be careful." Carl mutters from behind me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"None of us ever liked you, neither."

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

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

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

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

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

Before I can stop myself, smack!

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

He groans. "Shuh— S-sure."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hell's that mean?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

After which, we do, too.

Author's Note.

Whew! Hope you enjoyed this one.

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

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

@poetoflawed

[use-your-telescope]

cw: pet loss, pet death

My parents contacted me this morning to let me know that they would be putting Boots, their 18-year old cat, to sleep this week, and if I wanted to say bye I should come down sooner rather than later.

He’s been having a lot of health problems and it’s definitely the compassionate thing to do, but we got him when I was 13 - I was the one who begged them to get a cat (which led to his adoption), and for the first nine years of his life he was my cat - the only reason I didn’t take him with me when I moved out was because my parents told me “you can pry him from our cold dead hands” - they treat the lil’ guy (literally little - he’s a rescue who was definitely the runt of the litter) like royalty.

He’s had such a good life and I knew this was coming sooner or later, but I’m just sad about it.

My parents are also moving out of the house I grew up in at the end of October (found that out last week, along with the news my dad is retiring) and idk, it’s just a lot.

[afunfunkytime]

Outfit of the Day 1: Arkansas

greetings my fellow silly little guys, welcome to day one of my fun cool post series- in which i will deliver a stunning Ted Talk about what I think the states would wear outside the table. don't question my thought process it's mostly tv shows and dnd characters.

Arkansas (my beloved<3) dresses like he's a detective in a black and white movie. He owns many trenchcoats and will swoosh them dramatically when entering a room for flair. Most of his trenchcoats are older, worn out and falling apart a little because of constant wearing. Alas, you can pry them out of his cold dead hands. Like the majority of his jackets, all of his trenchcoats have leather patches on the elbows that are hand sewn on.

My silly dumb brain likes putting him in a 1920's Peaky Blinders-esque outfit. Like that wool suit and waistcoat god damn that's a fine look. Especially with that flat cap. I'm feral. He doesn't wear this all the time, this is his dressed up look and damn does he look good in it. I love him.

He's giving corduroy vibes. This man owns at least 3 corduroy blazers with silly elbow and shoulder patches and I'm HERE for it.

Him in fingerless leather gloves. Him in regular leather gloves. Him in gloves. Him.

Genuinely owns a trilby hat.

Genuinely wears suspenders sometimes.

Genuinely owns and uses a pocket watch from the 1800s.

Ark's casual wear is a polo shirt and cargo shorts with bottomless infinite pits for pockets. Dude has the answers to the universe in there. And a Werther's original. Or a bag of them.

Has worn cowboy boots and cargo shorts at the same time, Texas didn't speak to him for a week after.

This man enjoys a good sweater, I'm a lil feral for the grandpa look so y'all know I'm giving him a cute lil button up with a soft warm colour sweater on top. It's the law, he'd be adorable in it. He doesn't wear this often but when he does? It's cute as hell.

Rolls his sleeves up all the time. He thinks he looks nerdy with a button up with the sleeves rolled down, but up? Hot. Especially with a waistcoat. His favourite thing to wear outside of meetings is a lil white button up with the top button undone, rolled up sleeves, and a cute waistcoat. This man does not know what modern is. He doesn't. And it's adorable.

Ark doesn't know what fast fashion is. He bought all his clothes ten years ago minimum. Pretty sure he got his scuffed up work boots before sliced bread was invented. He mends all his clothes himself because getting someone else to do it is expensive and this man is fiercely independent. If he can't do it himself, it ain't being done.

All of his clothes are CRISP. He refuses to wear something with wrinkles. Sure he lives and works on a farm but he'll be damned if the cows aren't impressed with his ironing skills. He must Always look his best. Lil dude is spiffy and I love him.

let me know if y'all liked this, and if you did then please submit a request for the next day! y'all can do this through reblogs or asks, I'll respond either way- I crave human interaction please speak to me.

[thespacelizard]

for your thirsty drow: rizeth 28, ashenivir 35, zeth'rinn 30, vizeath 69

i will fully admit i reblogged this ask game like a lil cheese under a cardboard box trap for you :p

28 - Are they into body worship?

For receiving, I think he’s pretty neutral on it, but would be happy to do it if it was something Ashenivir really wanted to do. He’d be very into giving it; you know how much he adores Ashenivir all the fucking time, he’d love the chance to bring that into a scene.

I do even have a note for him doing some in arc 5, after Matron Zauvym pulls some bullshit.

35 - Have they tried something adventurous that they ended up disliking?

you mean apart from the debacle of To Know One’s Limits? (well, i guess he did like part of that, he just accidentally ended up triggered. oops). Hmm…not yet, really, I want to say. None of the people he’s hooked up with have ever been that adventurous, especially compared to Rizeth, and he hasn’t done anything with Rizeth that he really dislikes yet (apart from the aforementioned fic debacle).

I mean we could say, based on the two things that are in his active dislikes column, that he did try watersports with someone one time and immediately went ‘actually no thank you’. Because my boy, sometimes regrettably, will try most anything once, especially if a partner is into it.

(the only other thing on his active dislikes column is breeding, and there’s no way he needed to try that one out to know it was a major hard limit)

30 - How bratty are they?

ahhhh, i’m so predictable, but i think i am going to commit and say he’s very bratty. He’s a tease. He’s an annoying little shit. He’s just like his fucking dad, and you can pry my bratty Jarlaxle headcanon from my cold dead bratty hands.

I think Zeth likes teasing and taunting. I don’t think that he’s fully a brat with everyone he hooks up with, it depends on how they click, but if he finds someone who will push and pull with him. He’s doing that bit from that one tumblr post where the guy taunts the most jacked guy in the room then just goes ‘i’m just a little birthday boyyy’ only what actually happens is he gets fucked stupid.

…I think I’ve just realised Zeth’rinn is very into people who are built. Like he’s into Menzova, who's a fucking Darksong Knight and is definitely a Pretty Buff Lady. Oh no, he likes being thrown around.

Well, I guess I wanted asks to make me develop this boy, so. There’s that i guess!!

69 - Do they have anything that they once considered a squick but is now a turn on?

(of course you picked 69 for viz. of course.)

now, I have not fully fleshed this out, but I lowkey have this idea that Viz has some deeply suppressed horny feelings about Being A Girl During Sex. Like he hated it when he was a girl, but I am convinced that now he has a different body, the idea of it is uncomfortably erotic for him.

i really just think that if Pharaun put him in a lil skirt and stocking situation, he would lose his mind. like he’d be fucked up about it, but also. if Pharaun called him a pretty girl the amount of therapy he’d need would instantly double.

[sassygwaine]

For the character ask thing- Stede, of course :)

hell yes okay this took me a while i have a LOT of thoughts abt this guy

favorite thing about them

WHERE DO I START

he’s a total bitch and he’s the softest lil guy in the world, he picked flowers and wanted to marry for love, he’s gnc as fuck and is absolutely nutter butters, he feels a lot and very deeply and doesn’t know what any of the things he’s feeling are

he’s just like me fr

least favorite thing about them

total lack of consideration for other people as people!! even when he attempts to operate in service of other people, he bases his actions on assumptions rather than evidence, and ends up hurting people instead. the type of self-absorbed you can only be when you hate yourself.

favorite line

hi all!!

changed my fucking vocabulary

also “oh my god, i’m not a pirate, i’m an idiot!”

brotp

the stede & lucius & olu friendship trio is lovely

also i REALLY love the idea of mary & stede as friends and coparents (really only works in fan works, i don’t expect or anticipate it in canon)

otp

YOU ALREADY KNOWWWWW

blackbonnet, gentlebeard, ed/stede

notp

i’m gonna be real with y’all i don’t vibe with stede/ed/izzy or stede/izzy

random headcanon

i meannn you can pry autistic stede headcanon from my cold dead hands i will say that

unpopular opinion

i’m tired of posts talking about how stede sucks. we know. it’s literally the plot of the first four episodes! (arguably the entire show is stede is so bad at this and also occupying a space he doesn’t understand how to actually navigate bc he’s thrust himself into this world that was created because of people like him (societally, not specifically)) so idk i guess it’s just like ‘yes we know all of this and you spent hundreds of words talking abt it??? okay i guess’

song i associate with them

runaway goliath by mantaraybryn

'Cause you just wanna run away

While I’ll just stay and fight

Can you just be more brave

To fall from such a height

favorite picture of them

okay so i have had this image saved on my phone for a few months and i forget where i saved it from

however, reverse image search places it to a t-shirt design by @/general.caronobi on tiktok/insta

if that’s not the original credit somebody pls tell me

[ID: a three wolf moon style image with three stede faces: french party look, excited smile when the crew backs him in front of the firing squad, and when jackie holds a knife to his nose]

[meili-sheep]

(i cant spell at all so ignore the nicknames for il dottory and anything else lmao)

meili_sheep, the chilucer supreme, after the 3.1 demo, i started thinking. now i am not a very clever guy and cannot think for long periods of time but i got a brainworm and it wont leave me alone so now youve to deal with it too.

il dottory, the weird lil guy that he is, clones himself every year ya? but what it he cloned someone else... 👀

picture this, diluc gets captured during his trip to shnez by the funky doctor guy and he see that not only does diluc wield a dillusion with no (major/notable at least) issues and he also knows that diluc has a vision, which isnt on him (cause like, one of the clones interacted with di in the manga when he had a vision on him (i think anyways, might be misremembering that)) that also doesnt seem to affect him so instead of dorey being a good loyal harbinger and bringing him to the big icy woman, he clones diluc 2 times, one to send to The Cryo Lady™ and the other to send to Mondstad.

i dont have any idea what to do with this little brainrot but all i know is that

1) potential to make a load of chiluc angst eg. good ol tartaglitits finds out about dr crime and watchs experiments and maybe he says, "hey fuck it why not join in? could be fun" and sometime during that luc says something about kaeya referring to him as his big brother ((kaeya bigger brother, cant pry that from my cold dead hands)) and child(e) feels stupid guilt about whats been happening to luc cause ✨family ✨ and they become jailbreak bfs or smth idk.

and to

2) hurt diluc at the same time! (i love him but he needs to suffer, he too much like me fr).

im not a writer so i need other ppl to work with me on this one please i am begging this concept wont leave me alone lmao.

(if i ever come back to annoy you with more of my brain ideas ill sign off as "🌙🫀" :) )

Meili underscore Sheep the Chilucer Supreme.

I also want to make that my Twitter bio.

Anyway. I actually do like this idea quite a bit. I had an idea a while back about Diluc being captured and brainwashed to be a Harbringer. Childe who had fought with Diluc before his captures, hates this new Diluc because he'd admired the old Diluc. He admired the wild passion and the fiery strength and with this new Diluc. All of that was gone. So Childe was secretly trying to break Diluc free. And I can see a similar angle here. When Childe finds Diluc trapped by Dottore.

Maybe even finding Diluc in a delusion state and Diluc called out for his big brother.

And Childe is instantly hit with guilt cause... that could be his little bother. So again that combined with knowing how firy Diluc was before Childe sets to getting ride of the Diluc Clones and breaking free the real Diluc.

[moonlitmeeks]

regulus black dating a male reader !

type; headcanons

warnings; swearing

request; can you do more male!reader x regulus black?😅 - anon

a/n; hi! i'd love to - thank u so much for requesting and please feel free to send in more requests for male!readers! you guys deserve content <3 i hope you enjoy these, have a great day/night!

okay okay okay. first thing i feel i'm desperate to talk about is nicknames.

- you'd think reggie isn't really one for nicknames, but he is. just certain and specific ones.

- he's quite likes some classic petnames; handsome, love, the like

- but because this boy is a show off, french nicknames are where his heart lies. you can pry the french speaking regulus headcanon from my cold, dead hands, okay.

- things like mon amour, mon cher, mon ange, the list goes on. he likes it best when you don't understand what they mean.

- in terms of himself, you can call him whatever. he might not like if you go too far with the mushy, soft stuff, but if it makes you happy, so be it

- simplicity is his thing when it comes to nicknames for him; reggie, reg, love, babe, all that jazz

you've heard the saying that in a relationship, what's mine is yours. this definitely applies to yours and regulus's relationship

- you two basically have one large combined wardrobe at this point. what clothes belong to who doesn't matter anymore, if you want to wear it, you will.

- it's very fun to try on all of the overly fancy dress clothes his parents buy him for balls and dinner parties

- "reg, i really don't know why you don't wear this more often." "ugh, stop making fun of me mon ange."

- sharing books, quills, textbooks, and the like

- if you're a reader, he will leave little notes in the margins of your favourite books, sorry

waking up with him is always an experience

- regulus is not a morning person, okay. he will not wake up. no matter what.

- you will have to shake him vigorously whilst shouting at him to get up or he'll be late

- he will try to pull you back into his arms, his chest warm against your back

- but if you aren't a morning person either? good luck

- you'll need to set so many alarms

he loves subtly flirting with you in public

- look i know i said before he isn't one for pda

- but little winks and smirks across rooms?

- compliments bordering on flirty

- getting just a little too close when you're sitting next to each other, your knees brushing against each other

- he sees it as a fun game

sirius lives for teasing you two

- calling you both loverboys 24/7

- teasing regulus when he shows a little more affection than normal

- loves pointing out when you borrow one of his shirts, or when regulus steals your trousers

- "oh? and what's going on here?" "piss off sirius"

- but its fine. you get your revenge by making fun of him and remus

lets talk height differences

- if you're taller? he loves burying his face into the crook of your neck, or just rubbing his face against your jaw (if you've seen the gifs of timmy chalamet, you know what i mean)

- standing on his tiptoes constantly to 'prove' he's taller

- if you're shorter? he'll rest his chin on top of your head at all times, pressing sporadic kisses to your forehead and temples

- doesn't matter if you're only an inch shorter, he will tease you, so long as it isn't an insecurity of yours

also feel like finishing this with a few random things

- always being able to find each other at parties. it's a talent at this point. you'll be wondering where he is, then next thing you know he's right by your side

- a lot of inside jokes. he'll just whisper them into your ear at random times to see you dissolve into laughter, leaving everyone around you like??? why is he laughing so hard??? what did regulus say to him??

- play with his hair. right now. do it.

- also play with his rings. he loves it. "hm? d'you wanna borrow one, mon cher?"

this is all i can think of for now, so i hope these were okay!!! thank you so so much for the request!!!

regulus black taglist; @thesilverskull @lilgayn00dle @apocketfullofstorms @bazpitchs-violin @neilfuckingperrydeservedbetter @pagetpagetpagetpaget @adoreachilles @wlfstxr @cozyballofanxiety @matte-moony @d22malfoys @ms-heartbreak-queen @anderperrysupremacy @teen-years-suck

marauders era masterlist !

[a-rainey-day]

🌙 My hc for the moon boys! ⭐️

A/N: first time writing Hc’s :) most of the ones with an S/O are going to have they/them pronouns bc I rarely see gn!Reader stuff

A/N 2: since this post got so much love I’m gonna try and write more on here! I’ll probably do Layla next :)

A/N 3: Just a lil update I have this plastered all over my page but I also take requests! :)

Warnings: None! All fluff :) (probably some bad grammar tho)

Order: Non romance/general hc, romance & S/O hc w/Steven, romance & S/O hc W/Marc, and romance & S/O hc with Jake

Starting with some non romantic hc

So we all know how dr strange can push people out of their bodies right? Well we see in ep 5 each alter has their own soul

So like Marc is fighting with dr.strange and gets punched out, then Steven takes the front and is like “sorry mate” but before he can hit strange he gets punched out too

At this point marc is half pouting/half laughing

Jake takes the front and decks strange but gets punched out, now he’s laughing as the body goes down

Strange is like “we good? No one else? You aren’t faking it?”

But marc is back in the body and he IS faking it, he springs up and decks strange

At this point it’s a revolving door and marc, Steven, and Jake are all laughing abt it

When the moon boys do meet thor/Loki Khonshu is like staying away from them bc Loki tried to stab him and Thor bit him when they were kids

Once Marc and Steven are done with Khonshu they just call him “murder bird”

Marc convinces Steven to get rid of the sand by the bed

Steven keeps the ankle restraint tho

When Marc is mad at Steven and vice versa he throws a sheet over/covers every mirror until he’s calmed down a bit

The moon knight system is autistic, you can pry that from my cold dead hands

Steven has a bunch of fidget toys

Jake bit people when they were kids

Marc still has his childhood teddy bear/comfort object somewhere

Marc was a leash kid but it was mostly cause Jake bit people

I don’t think Steven cried a lot as a kid but was very emotional when he first started fronting for long periods of time

I think Steven struggles with processing big emotions tbh

He’s not like emotionally immature or anything but like he gets emotionally overwhelmed easily

Marc just struggles with saying how he feels. I feel like he can process his emotions but he doesn’t know what to do with them

Jake just struggles with emotions in general, like he’s v reactionary when it comes to them

Jake I feel over thinks the least out of the moon knight system, he just does

Marc overthinks the most tho, like he spirals when he overthinks

Steven tries not to overthink things but sometimes does but can stop himself before it gets too bad

Steven I think is a cat person, Marc likes both cats and dogs, and Jake is a dog person

I feel like Jake specifically like big dogs like golden retrievers and labs

Steven likes black cats with fun names specifically

Romance hc with Steven!

Steven can’t cook, he wants to but he just can’t for the life of him

Poor guy most he can make is like scrambled eggs or cup ramen

I think the autism is clearest with Steven cause we see him talk to Gus and flap his hands and such

So we all know stevens dislike of the taweret plushies at the museum but I feel like if his S/O likes plushies he’d get them for them

like say he’s out like at target or smthn and sees a stuffed animal/brand you mentioned you liked and he’d just get it without thinking

He has a note on his phone full of things his S/O likes and all their clothing sizes and favorite brands

I also think he loves to leave lil notes for his s/o to find around the flat

Another thing!! If you like to game steven loves to watch! Like he’ll sit next to you and just watch you play

I also feel like once you come into his life he’ll probably start trying to keep the flat cleaner and I also feel like he buys a blanket for the couch in case you ever get cold

He also loves to listen to you talk about your interests like could sit there for hours and just listen to you talk

He just loves you sm, he buys you jewelry specifically I think

He loves to see it sparkle and loves how well it goes with your outfits

He gets such big heart eyes when he sees you in his sweaters

I feel like one of the first gifts Steven gets you if you like to game is like a minecraft bee plush

Steven calls you things like “my love” or “lovie” or even “lovely”

Up next is Marc!

I feel like Marc can cook the best out of everyone in the system

It took a while to warm up to you especially if you met Steven first

Cause Steven is all he’s had since he was a kid (not counting Layla)

Eventually he warms up to you.

I feel like if you left Marc like notes he’d draw something on them or keep them but he’d never tell you

Once Marc adjusts to you he loves to cook for you

Lots of quiet nights cuddling on the couch with Marc

I feel like Marc’s love language is words of affirmation and quality time

He needs to be assured you love him

I also feel like a breakfast date with marc would be him taking you out to get doughnuts and coffee

he loves to go on little adventures with you, target, the gas station, late night drug store run, he wants to come with you and make sure you’re okay

He has a note on his phone full of date ideas for you guys

I feel like with your help he’d probably seek therapy, but you’d probably have to be in the room with him for at least the first session

He loves to hold your hand. He doesn’t realize he’s doing it half the time

Marc calls you things like “honey” or “flower” and sometimes “dear”/“dearest”

And finally Jake!

He’d probably be the last to warm up to you

Not because he doesn’t like you but because he’s the one who protects Marc and Steven and he has to be sure you’re a safe person for them

The first time he fronts around you he’s mostly silent just watching you.

Once he realizes you don’t want to hurt Marc or Steven he’s mostly in the background

It takes him the longest to realize he has feelings for you

Doesn’t want to accept it at first cause he’s stubborn but eventually gives in and tells you

I feel like a breakfast date with Jake would include making chocolate chip pancakes while he holds you from behind

his cabbie cap is stored on a squishmallow by the door (I specifically picture Abe the bearded dragon)

Happened bc you put it there as a joke and he just went along with it bc he didn’t wanna make you upset

If you give him a stuffed animal (think like the squeezemallows) it’s either going in the passenger seat in the limo or on his dash in the passenger side

He loves to get you gifts, like flowers or anything that makes him think of you he’ll probably get for you

The most physical of all the moon boys, he loves to be holding you close

Always holding you or has his hand on you

If you’re like walking with him he has his arm around your waist

If you don’t like physical touch though he’ll usually just hold your hand if you’re okay with that

Probably the best with kids tbh. Like if you have little siblings or little cousins he loves to see them

I think it’s cause kids (most of the time) are easy to understand

Calls you things like “mi amor” (my love) or “Mi osito” (my little bear/teddy bear) and “mi vida” (my life) pls forgive me if any of my translations are off/correct me in the comments :))

Overall I think the moon boys all treasure you and love you no matter what and will do their best to love you and try to heal from their past so they can have a future with you

[wh6res]

three's a crowd | nomin

synopsis. picking favorites is impossible when you like neither of them.

warning. read at your own risk. abuse, bullying, poly relationship, yandere themes, manipulation, nonconsensual touching, noncon, degradation, smut threesome oop

disclaimer. i do not condone whatever tf i wrote in this nor does it reflect my beliefs or values or morals and such. it is all pure fiction and i also dont think jaemin or jeno would act like this in real life.

note. this was meant to be a new year's gift lmao i obviously got a lil carried away 👀 anyway a late happy new year to you all! we survived 2020, let's start living in 2021, yeah? lmao if covid lets us grr mwah!

the relationship you had with the two of them was a weird one, bordering on taboo, but it wasn't as if you willfully chose to be who they wanted you to be and it took jaemin's unwanted pining and jeno's intimidating demeanor for you to fall right into their arms.

it was a joint effort on their part, you couldn't've possibly stood a chance.

"this many?" the cashier asked. "are you sure?"

stepping back and studying the whole situation, you figured you only had your addiction to caffeine and procrastination to blame. it was a chain reaction you didn't even know will lead up to your inevitable doom.

if you hadn't been slacking off during your first semester of junior year college, you wouldn't be forced to overwork yourself trying to catch up to the looming deadlines, but to be able to 'work yourself to the bone' you need your boost of energy… and that was when you met one of them.

"uhm," you scratch the back of your head sheepishly as you eye the six glass bottles of iced coffee. sure, it looks bad and you kinda appreciate the look of concern the cashier throws your way but it was none of his business.

"yes. now could you, like, you know… hurry up? i'm in a little bit of a time crunch right now."

screw it. although you hardly snap like that with other people on a daily basis, it'll be a whole different conversation if you were under a significant amount of stress and today, unfortunately, is one of those days.

now can he just fucking stop asking questions and give you your six bottles of death drink to keep your fucking brain going so you can pass an eight-page essay tomorrow? thank you very much!

the guy snickered, the beeping sound of a barcode being read sounding a thousand times more annoying than it usually sounds as he keeps his hand busy by punching your items out.

you fail to notice how he studies you through the gaps of his lashes, finding you interesting rather than threatening as you stood before him with your messy hair and oversized hoodie.

"haven't seen you around university grounds 'till today," he tries striking another conversation with you. "you new? i'm jaemin."

this was your first mistake, you shouldn't have been so… downright rude when you met him. if you were granted the miracle of meeting him a 2nd time, you would've acted more nice, throwing yourself at his feet even to blend in with the rest of his fangirls you didn't even know about at the time. you would've done anything to make sure he never gives you a second glance, to never pique his interest.

jaemin is the pep squad captain. flying over colored blue mats and doing tumblings in the air with no ounce of fear. he was the best in his team, that much was evident when your friend dragged you into watching a pep rally practice. his landings were clean, balanced, and executed to the best he can at all times.

no wonder he was popular, his talent is outstanding and his looks are a bonus. his killer combo of a smile and wink after pulling off a tough flip is enough to send them squealing in their seats.

he spotted you that day and since then, he snuck the quickest glances at the bench during practices. recognizing you as the coffee girl he met during his convenience store shift. jaemin tries not to let his disappointment show too much when he doesn't see you, but of course, a pair of cold calculating eyes could see right through him.

"i saw that," his boyfriend said, hand darting forward to hold jaemin's gym bag for him. "you kept looking at the crowd. do you want to see her that much?"

"but she reminds me so much of you, jeno!" he retorts, pouting at the slight grumpy tone the other boy used. "i can't help it. she doesn't seem to give a fuck around me so she's quite interesting. maybe she can even be a great addition to our relationship!"

"well," jeno replies after a beat of silence, plastering a small smirk on his face before slinging an arm around jaemin's shoulder.

"convince me?"

you don't like jaemin's attention. not in the slightest. and it seems that was enough reason for the reign of terror his little fanclub has subjected you too.

it wasn't the petty elementary forms of bullying like pulling at your hair or calling you names. they pale in comparison to the other things they do to you—beating you up, messing with your homework, "accidentally" dumping their food trays on you.

and you weren't stupid.

you knew exactly who was behind it, knew how jaemin spectates the whole thing from afar so that he can swoop in at the end to play your knight in shining armor.

"oh, you poor thing. do you need help?"

the first time you accepted his "help" you ended up in a supply closet near the gym during your free period, cornered and weak as your cries for help drowns under the squeaking of shoes and the booming sounds of rubber balls hitting the floor.

if it weren't for jeno appearing out of thin air and prying the boy off of you, you would've been painted blue and red from the death grip he had on your wrist, neck, and waist.

you can still remember feeling the soreness of your scalp from when he pulled your hair too hard. remembered feeling his teeth gnawing at your lips as if he wanted to tear them off.

that time hadn't been the first time you saw jeno. you've shared a few classes with him and it strikes you how polar opposites they are with one another.

while jaemin likes to bask in his professor and classmates' recognition by confidently reciting his answers, jeno would rather keep to himself. liked sitting at the last row, near the window, so he'd be the first to go once the professor ends their lecture. while jaemin loved the attention of his fangirls, jeno preferred solitude. while jaemin is impulsive and wild, jeno liked to think things through.

it was within these reasons that you decided to do what you did. but your judgement of character has never been more wrong.

you approached jeno one day in the library, tried to make yourself appear as stoic and confident as possible. but your constant slouching and averting eyes was a dead giveaway.

you came to talk to him about what jaemin has been doing, hoping there's one person left in this entire school that isn't under the cheer captain's trance. the one reasonable person that has already saved you once and (hopefully) is willing enough to save you again. the only one that probably has a certain level of control over jaemin, if the supply closet incident is anything to go by.

but you've overestimated lee jeno.

"you should've just given jaemin what he wanted."

"but—but aren't you two lovers? isn't it bothering you?"

you try baiting him, only for an uncomfortable shiver to start crawling down your spine when he chuckled humorlessly, pushing his school materials to the side while pinning you with an unreadable stare.

how can a person make someone feel so small just by a gaze alone? it was nothing like you've felt with jaemin. this is way worse.

"the only thing that's bothering me is why you're not ours yet."

you feel cold fingers creeping their way under your shirt, going higher and higher until it brushes against your bra. and when your eyes meet, the look on his face was unmistakable—what are you going to do about it, huh?

you stood up in lightning speed, the chair you've been sitting on scraping loudly against the floor.

you've never ran out as fast as you did.

and jeno swears it'll be the last.

you tried everything in your power to ignore them for the next following weeks but it soon became useless when the two boys took it upon themselves to give you your space.

although judging by the pinpricks you feel on your back, and the constant weight of a stare you feel on your shoulders, you knew they weren't done with you yet. far from it. and for some reason, you just knew they wanted to lull you into a false sense of security first before striking again.

and while they continued to ogle at you from afar like a hawk circling its prey in a desert, you took it upon yourself to return the favor. not because you were the slightest bit interested in those creeps but maybe, just maybe, if you look hard enough you'll find a way out, a weakness.

but what you realized made your insides churn in great discomfort—although it may seem that jeno holds the reins in the relationship since his reserved nature fits the role, it's actually the other way around.

jaemin might appear too self-centered, too focused on himself to give a fuck about his surroundings but in actuality, he has quite a knack for reading people. even more so than jeno. and it was scary how he used it to his advantage, and paired up with his devoted fangirls? it was hell on earth.

you found it alarming how the two seem to magically appear wherever you are.

although you weren't in the least bit surprised. for some reason, you can't take your eyes away when jaemin's devotees flock around him (and jeno) in a circle.

it almost reminds you of a shoal of piranhas, waiting for their meal to drop into the water before ripping it to shreds with their teeth. only their "meal" isn't actual flesh but the carefully crafted words jaemin says that drive them into a sick frenzy.

one that has them doing everything in their power to satisfy him like the loyal dogs they are.

so this was how he got them to bully you?

"oh, that? don't worry! yangyang just ran into me during cheer rehearsal. no biggie. my cheek stung a little bit, though…" is what he said but really he's telling them "scruff him up a bit for me, why don't ya?"

"of course, i can't be the best all the time. haechan is just too good, maybe even better than me…" is what he said but really he's telling them "can you remind him where his place should be?"

all the while jeno did nothing to hold him back.

no matter how wrong jaemin is, how much of an asshole he is, jeno will stick by his side through and through. so as much as jaemin is a puppeteer that gets a kick for controlling people, jeno is as much at fault for looking the other way.

because in jeno's perspective, why the fuck would he do shit when he can just get off from the entertainment that comes with jaemin's sweet little mind games?

we lost :(

you had been busy sorting through paperwork for one of your professors in the faculty when your friend texted you the results of the intercollegiate cheer dance competition. a frown paints your face, heart feeling heavy at the bad news.

in all honesty, you still supported the pep squad—you just hated the captain and his boyfriend. they've been practicing non-stop for this and prior to the weeks of the competition, jeno looked a lot more tense and jaemin less smiley than usual. you swore you even saw the latter snap at one of his fangirls.

not to mention, they paid less attention to you, too, and it was the best three weeks of your life.

tension starts rising in your shoulders, fingers absentmindedly running through the edge of the papers you had been sorting until you became immersed with your thoughts.

jaemin must be in the worst mood yet.

and jeno too, probably. if anything, that guy gets triggered the most when something bad happens to jaemin or when he catches snippets of people talking shit about his oh so "perfect" boyfriend.

jeno is a lot scarier when jaemin is in one of his mood swings, you noticed. he steps up in the relationship to offer comfort to the other boy and for outsiders? it isn't a great experience to go through—being on the receiving end of jeno's ice cold stare is a position you don't want to find yourself in after that time in the library.

he is still as much a threat to your peaceful life like his lover.

you snap out of it when the blinding headlights of a vehicle seep through the closed blinds. you hear the gentle hum of an engine switching off as the headlights vanished as quick as they had appeared. that must be the cheer squad's bus.

as you look around the empty faculty room, something in your gut tells you to ditch file sorting duty for professor kim tonight and fucking get the hell out of campus grounds as quick as you can.

after haphazardly throwing the unsorted papers back into the cabinet, you groan aloud when the keys to the office drop out of your skirt’s pocket.

the indoor gym where the cheering squad practices is right across the hallway. you sure as hell don't want to bump into jaemin. or jeno, too, if he had decided to ride along the cheer squad's bus on the way home.

you kept looking for the keys underneath the cubicles, cursing aloud when you heard the telltale squeaks of shoes rubbing against linoleum. you almost hit your head against a table when you quickly got back up your feet, darting forward to shut the lights for the faculty room.

they can't know you're here. alone. and if it meant sitting in the dark for a few hours 'till they leave, meant going back home a little later than usual is what you have to do then so be it.

you try not to react so violently when the door you're leaning on jolts when someone from outside slams their back against it.

"it's not like we didn't do our best, right guys? i don't have regrets. it might sound fucking cheesy and although i'm sad myself, atleast we did what we can."

it's jaemin. his voice clear as day.

you try peaking, craning your neck up from your place on the floor. only to see the back of his head leaning against the glass section of the door. someone else joins in on the conversation, followed by coach park himself, and you slowly tune out whatever they're saying as you stealthily start scanning the faculty room.

you curse under your breath. is there no other exit other than this door? jesus christ! even classrooms in this university had two doors—

"what are you doing here?"

the switch flickers on, basking the once dark room with light. only when you hear an echo of your name being called, did you snap out of it and quickly picked yourself up from the floor.

"i said, what are you doing here?"

their coach asks, drilling the question as he looks at you skeptically with his arms crossed. you try not to look at the people behind him.

particularly, not at his cheer captain standing on his right.

particularly, not at jeno, who stands out like a sore thumb with his blue hair, a protective arm snaked around jaemin’s shoulders.

this isn't your lucky day, too, you guess.

"i was…" you cursed yourself for stuttering. "i was, uhm, i was file sorting for prof—professor kim, sir."

coach park looked like he didn't believe you as he narrowed his eyes in scrutiny. your nerves are going haywire and you can feel the sharp pins of their stare with how close they are.

you kept juggling your weight with the balls of your feet, hands fisting and unfisting behind your back. you want to leave. you have to leave.

"file sorting… in the dark?" he asked incredulously.

fuck this.

"uhm, you can ask professor kim himself tomorrow, coach. for now, uh, i'll be going now. i'm sorry you guys lost…"

originally, the exit is on the right side, at the end of the hallway. but no, you are not going to pass by those two while on your way out so you ducked behind a random student standing on the coach's left instead and practically ran away from the scene.

everyone had been too busy. too busy looking at your retreating form to even notice jaemin and jeno exchanging glances, too busy to notice the latter untangling himself from their captain to slip away unnoticed, his hurried steps filled with a burning purpose.

you didn't know why you ran, but you did. your shoes practically booming against the floor as you sped away through darkened hallways. you're sweating profusely, heart hammering in your chest. you can worry about professor kim tomorrow but right now you just had to—

"why are you in such a rush, pet?"

crashing into jeno felt like crashing into a wall. if it hadn't been for his arm quickly wrapping around your waist, then you would've landed on your butt before him.

with the small distance between the two of you, jeno could see as clear as day through your eyes.

jaemin was right.

it was addicting to stare into them.

especially when he can see every single one of your thoughts flying through your pretty little head. but hey, it wasn't their fault you were so easy to read.

jeno barely conceals the wicked smirk on his lips when your hands come up to his chest, trying to push him away but to no avail.

he can see your eyes shifting from shock, to confusion, until it finally settles on fear—to which it's slowly becoming a favorite emotion of his to see on your face.

"you know, jaemin is in a really shitty mood right now. and we were wondering, maybe you can cheer us up?"

no. this can't be happening.

"jeno, please." your dilated eyes and disheveled hair made his blood run south. "let me go. you don't want me. you don't need a third party in your relationship."

you yelp when he lets you go, literally shoving you against a wall—which you found out is actually a door, as it swings open as soon as your body crashes against it.

with jeno looming unforgivingly before you in his full height, the tears stung extra hard but you won't let them fall.

if he wanted to bask in the image of your weakness then it'll be something you'll deprive from him for as long as you can.

"i don't need a stupid bitch like you to tell me what i feel." he scoffs. "don't fucking kid yourself, you little whore—i don't want you. i'm not jaemin."

the echo of the classroom door shutting closed surged through you like a wake up call.

this is really happening.

you've always led a decent life, had done nothing too questionable and you've always thought maybe life will spare you if you lived quietly enough. but the feel of jeno's freezing hands crawling against your skin felt like life itself had spat at you in the eye and left you to rot in a ditch.

"i've always liked how you wore skirts," he comments. playing with the ruffled hem of the soft fabric as he purposely grazed his knuckles against your supple thighs. "gives me easy access, don't you agree?"

you scream when he flips your skirt up to reveal the innocent pink of your cotton panties. it was as if a switch had flipped inside of you and the will to fight started coursing through your veins.

"stop! jeno! i don't want this!"

his brows furrow, grunting as he struggles to push the waistline of your skirt up higher with how much you're thrashing underneath him. you buck your hips, tried curling in on yourself, anything to prolong what he wants to do to you.

with your legs trapped underneath his, you blindly reach forward, relying on your upper body instead to push and scratch whatever your palms and nails reached.

you continue screaming like a banshee until he shoved two fingers into your wet cavern.

"stop fighting me," he sounded strained, as if he's holding himself back. you feel him fisting the fabric of your skirt and you fear he's simply going to rip it apart.

you tried responding to him, only the sound had been muffled, gurgled by the flat of his fingers pushing down against your tongue mercilessly. when you reach forward to push him away, your hands land on the apple of his cheeks, nails digging through skin.

until it slips and—

you lie rigid when red scratch marks in the size of your fingernails slowly appear on jeno's skin, his head turned to the side as he paused. your actions slowly start sinking in to him as he shuts his eyes and bit his lip 'till it looked like it was about to bleed.

oh no.

"jeno—"

the slap he planted on your cheek left your ears ringing. all those hard earned muscles of his put to good use—if the tears hadn't fallen for the last few minutes, then it definitely started falling now.

the hit had been so strong, a few of your hair flew astray, the buzzing feeling of your skin tempting you to reach a hand up to soothe your abused cheek.

until jeno let out a low growl and your hand immediately drops limp against your body, afraid of whatever else he can do to you other than a slap.

"that's more like it," he whispers under his breath. you let out the tiniest of whimpers when his hand darts forward to fist your hair. "do you know what happens to bad girls? they fucking get busted up. do you understand me?"

his patience is nonexistent.

jeno slams your head against the floor when you don't answer because you thought his question had been rhetorical. it felt like your skull had been split in two as you wail in pain.

"are you fucking deaf—i asked you a fucking question!"

the hand that cups your jaw is painful as he squeezed your cheek with his blunt nails. your hand shoots up to wrap around his wrist, silently pleading for him to let up as you sobbed out loud. you started nodding as best as you can despite his firm grip on your face.

your reply was nothing short of pathetic. with lips forcefully pursed and the steady stream of your tears and snot rolling down your face, your response is gargled and hardly incoherent and jeno seemed to thoroughly enjoy your anguish if the condescending curl on his lips is anything to go by.

"look at you," he whispers, his face coming close to yours as he holds you down. there was something in the way jeno stared so intently that it made your skin crawl.

"i think you're prettiest when ruined like this."

with his nose touching yours, he felt too close, bordering on intimate as you felt his hand creep back up your thighs, trailing up with feather-like touches that made goosebumps appear on your skin.

you tried wiggling your legs underneath him but one sharp look from jeno is enough to make you stop.

the hand holding your face moves. coming down from gripping your face to encircling his hand around your neck.

"do you like it when i touch you? freaky bitch."

his hands trail further up, up, up until you felt him slotting a finger underneath your panties.

jeno didn't like how frozen you were underneath him as he pulls at the hem before letting go. the elastic snapping back against your skin.

the action evokes a strong feeling through the young male, promising to have you writhing and screaming and begging because by the end of all this, you'll be so needy and frustrated that you will have no choice but to give in to what your body wanted.

"jeno, didn't i tell you to play nice?"

someone stands by the door, the minimal light from the hallway creating a silhouette with his form but you knew who he was. that deep voice, with the same annoying flippant tone, is a dead giveaway.

you didn't know why you even hoped in the beginning. as if there'll be someone who can save you from these two.

you thought the flash of hurt in your eyes was quick to disappear but jeno noticed it quicker.

in a span of seconds, he pulled you up from your position from the ground and tugged you towards his lap. you haven't even gotten the time to settle on your new position when he already smashed his lips against yours.

it was messy. too much saliva. too much teeth. no tenderness to it at all.

the fabric of his jeans felt rough, not to mention the ice cold belt buckle made you severely uncomfortable as it seeps through the thin fabric of your skirt.

when you attempt to hover over his lap, jeno grunts as he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you back down without your lips breaking away from each other. you didn't know why he let out a whine, but you understood the moment you fully sat down on his lap and you felt a tent on his jeans hitting your clothed entrance perfectly.

in a normal circumstance, you would've found everything hot and might've actually gotten off from it but not when it's him who’s doing this to you and you didn’t consent to any of this.

you start squirming again. palms lying flat against jeno's chest as you attempt to push him away and jaemin sees this as the opportune moment to slot himself behind you, caging you in between them.

“i want my turn,” he hisses and without an ounce of hesitation, jeno stops to do what he's told.

jaemin doesn't waste any second to grab your face, awkwardly craning your neck up to meet his lips in the same feverish kiss.

while jeno had been all teeth and aggression, practically forcing you to open your mouth and kiss him back, jaemin on the other hand is more soft, more romantic, you daresay. he seemed to like taking his sweet time by clutching your face, kissing you like he actually meant it.

he pulls away slightly, resting his forehead against yours as he murmurs something incoherent under his breath and then he's kissing you again.

you think you heard something along the lines of, "finally."

you've been too distracted by jaemin to notice jeno's nimble fingers quickly fumbling with the buttons of your blouse. it was only when you feel the sensation of his tongue laving against the swell of your breast did you turn away from jaemin, jerking backward in surprise.

"no—!"

your scream is cut off by a hand cupping your mouth. jaemin pulls your back towards his chest, molding your body against his as jeno licked and suckled all he wanted, thankful to have the other boy there to not worry about restraining you and keeping you quiet while he has his fun.

"ah, ah, ah," jaemin teases, going hard over the pleading and teary look you sent his way. it looked pathetic, he wasn't going to lie, but it doesn't mean he didn't love it. "just keep still and appreciate jeno's efforts to take care of you, alright baby?"

you don't like how he talked as if this was all a mutual thing, how he talked slowly like you were some toddler who didn't understand anything.

it's cruel how jaemin giggled and basked in your vulnerable state as he kept his eyes pinned on you while undoing the zipper of your skirt. your muffled cries of his name only serving to egg him on.

the way he stared was similar to jeno, too intently and intrusive, like he wants to burn your image of despair in the back of his head.

you whined involuntarily when jeno got bored of all the licking and thus decided to start biting and nipping at your chest instead. he was hypnotised by how responsive you were, how every little bite and nibble made you shudder.

it was a shame that jaemin had to cover your mouth. he didn't get to hear your pretty mewls but it wasn't as if he'd let the night end without hearing them loud and clear.

jaemin is fast in undressing you, feeling slightly betrayed by how quick your skirt and blouse fell under his hands.

you know what he wants, what he's going to do, and the tears fall harder when you can't dodge away from him. forced to endure and accept whatever they give you.

"you act like you don't like it but look how fucking wet you are," you bit your lip hard when jaemin starts circling the pads of his fingers against your clit, fascinated by how more juices streamed down your thighs.

"jeno, do you see this? fuck."

you can only blink in defeat, staring off to the side as you force down any noise bubbling up your throat, forcing yourself to think of anything else other than what's happening right now.

you try not to think about how they managed to tear all of your clothes off while they're left completely dressed. tried not to think about the fingers lazily drawing up and down your slit to collect your essence.

if they're doing this as a way to further humiliate you, it's working.

"slut," jeno mocked, a wicked curl on his lips when he wraps his fingers around your throat. the moment he dives down to claim your lips again is the same time jaemin pushes two fingers inside you.

"look at how wet you are because of me," jaemin whispers hot against your ear and you feel a sick churn in your stomach when you feel his smile against your skin.

he purposely drives his fingers in and out quicker, settjng a brutal pace, wanting you to hear the lewd squelching sounds. "hear that? do you hear that, darling? that's because of me—"

"don't go talking big now, jaem," jeno retorts, pulling away from your lips to start nibbling on the back of your ear. "i was here first. did you see how she fucking reacted when i sucked on her tits?"

you're quick to catch how jeno particularly loved degrading you. but how he talks about you as if you're literally not in front of him naked made you hit a new all-time low.

you felt… filthy.

his hands find purchase on your butt—only because jaemin has already claimed the front. for now.

you close your eyes tight when he painfully squeezes the flesh of your ass. you swear, his blunt nails will paint your skin black and blue.

"i'm the favorite!"

"i'm the favorite!"

as someone who's part of a varsity team, you already knew a competitive nature runs through jaemin's veins. but never had you thought jeno would share the same sentiment. once again they prove that they're cut from the same cloth.

all of a sudden it wasn't all about claiming you as theirs anymore rather it was all about who can make you moan the loudest, who can make you cum the most, who can make you feel the dirtiest you can be.

you're absolutely terrified for the hours to come.

thankfully, they have yet to ask for your verbal opinion or validation. they let your body do all the talking—every repressed shudder and sharp gasp is enough.

but it's game over once they pop the million dollar question.

"who do you like best?"

you don't want to find out the consequences if you actually answered their question because you didn't know what could be worse.

jaemin's manipulation or jeno's aggression?

but it was all normal. trial and error is inevitable in order to build and mold you into the ideal lover for the both of them.

because adding someone new to the mix has never been easy—after all, three's a crowd.

[zenithpng]

slaps more tourettic Lance propaganda down in front of you

Lance notices something is off early on but he's practically the poster boy for ADHD so he figures it's just that

as a kid his tics are pretty mundane. snapping, tapping, popping his knuckles, stuff like that

his siblings get annoyed with it sometimes, and they don't really get it when he says he feels like he has to

as he gets older they get more complex, but hes largely able to mask and keep things under control

when the paladins find the Blue Lion and go to space, his tics really ramp up and he's got no clue what is happening

he starts having really bad attacks after battles when he's stressed and the adrenaline has worn off

after suffering through it alone for a long while he finally tells Shiro because. how do you explain human brainweirdness to aliens.

and Shiro is like "no yeah dude you have a tic disorder"

Lance has only ever seen Tourette's as "person shouting at inconvenient times" so at first he's all. tic disorder? me? FAKE NEWS.

but then he, yknow, actually thinks about it and goes back to Shiro and is like. heyyy man how do you know 👀

turns out Shiro knows because. he also experiences tics (you can pry Shiro and his functional tics from my COLD DEAD HANDS!!!!!!)

lance is super. whoagh. because whaaaaat his role model has tics? the guy he's looked up to for all these years is like him?

he cries a lil bit but it's ok Shiro won't tell anyone

after the war he uses crutches because he kinda messes up his legs and his tics don't exactly help with that

Lance and Keith trade stims and tics like Pokémon cards

they purposely remove themselves from each other's premises if things start ramping up because it creates a feedback loop and it. isn't exactly fun after a while.