#(yes i know there's ways of reading them for free)

[krystella-shifts]

EVERYTHING IS CLICKING FOR ME Y'ALL!!! *ੈ✩‧₊˚

The only post you'll ever need for LOA. Literally.

It's so easy to manifest literally so easy once you do this. JUST SIT BACK AND RELAX, BE IN RECIVING MODE INSTEAD OF CONSTANTLY FEELING LIKE YOU HAVE TO DO SOMETHING. Yes sometimes it can be hard when you feel panic that you have to manifest as fast as possible but trust me once you TRUST, it'll all fall into your lap at the snap of a finger! Literally. You'll even feel better and happy instead of worrying and feel like waiting forever. The universe/god/your higher self, whatever you believe in is telling you or teaching you that the way isn't through worry, stress, pain, suffering. The way is through ease, love, trust. Once you understand this you'll ALWAYS and I mean ALWAYS be able to manifest without any effort. Yes, no need for that 21 days challenge, no need to set a reminder for every hour to affirm, no need to try hard to visualise every teeny tiny detail. Just have this inner knowing and relax. That's the cheat code. How easy is that? You literally have the cheat code and it doesn't require ANY effort outside and the most minimal effort inside.

Now let me explain all the manifestation techniques in more detail.

Every manifestation technique has one goal:

Think about any technique. Affirming, visualising, scripting,etc. All of these are for what? To remind you, you have your desire. YES not to get something. That's why Neville said feel it real is very powerful technique. Cuz that's what happens when we receive something right. But what we do in loa is we feel it rn and get it rn, and because the 3d is in the past, yes it's our past assumptions, that's why we say it's not real. So when we feel it real we already have our desire in the present, but the 3d is not in the present. So don't react to it. Just remember that. And after a few days of having our desire we don't get THAT excited, do we? So when you think about it again you don't have to feel anything or do anything cuz you already have it. AND THEN WE JUST SIT BACK AND RELAX. Again the same conclusion. Cuz that's it!

ALL YOU NEED TO EVER DO:

Decide what you want. And feel having it.

Remind yourself that you have ___ either saying it in your head, writing it down, etc

RELAX. SIT TF BACK. YES YOU DON'T NEED TO DO ANYTHING.

Whenever you think about ___ always remember you have it. And think naturally. How would you think having ___ cuz you do now.

Remember the 3d is a product of your past assumptions. Just like how we see the stars 8 years later of their actual form. Just like it takes 8 minutes for sunlight to reach the earth. If you remember this you won't ask "where it is" you know it is here. And yes u can manifest Shifting too.

Allow it to come to you. I don't chase i attract.

Yes that's what it means. And I am the living proof for that 😌💅🏻✨ I am literally living my dream life and bestie you are too. That's all you need to manifest (aka yourself). It's very simple but if you have any questions feel free to comment and keep me updated on your manifestation journey and success stories cuz I'd love to read them and know if my post helped you 🤭🥂 (atleast you can do that for me, right? ;p)

Love, ... redkittyjellyfish? Wait i need to change my user name 💀 (ps. I changed my user from redkittyjellyfish - Krystella-Shifts (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠) )

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[electricneonvalkyrie]

Abby notices when you’re depressed. Let’s talk about how she handles that as your partner.

These are modern Abby headcanons. The list was much longer, but I cut it down considerably to keep it from getting too long-winded. I do have a piece written for WLF Abby. If it's something you want to see, let me know.

Thanks for reading. I'm glad you're here.

• Maybe it’s a slow descent this time… little by little, losing interest in your favourite pastimes and finding it hard to discover meaning in daily life. In the midst of trying to survive, there is suddenly no room left for indulging in your hobbies.

Abby, with every random blanket and sheet she owns, constructs a blanket fort in the living room, offering a pressure-free zone where you can do nothing but feel completely safe and loved.

Super cozy, not too busy, and mega peaceful against the demands of a world that is asking far too much of you in this moment.

Does she deep-dive Youtube tutorials on how to build epic forts that probably belong in a magazine? I mean, yeah. Give her a break, alright? Complete dedication is the way this girl operates, and I’ll die on that hill. Also, Abby is a tall, sturdy girlie, and she needs to fit inside it with you. If you’re going to live in this fort together for the foreseeable future, she needs it to be good for you.

Now, if you want an enormous blanket hanging precariously off the side of the couch with a half-dead flashlight and crinkled comics shoved underneath some pillows, date Ellie. Still cute, still the thought that counts, but she’s no Abigail it’s my mission to save you Anderson.

• Abby stocks up on all your go-to snacks because she gets that it's hard to think about the basics when you're too bone-tired to move… nevermind prioritizing measly things like providing yourself sustenance. She’s got you covered.

• She refuses to let you marinate in the feeling of being a burden. She shuts that shit down fast.

“You’re my person, okay? I’m not going anywhere. End of story.”

• Abby grew up around doctors, so she'll for sure be the one to look up therapists and leave the info pinned to the fridge beneath a small magnet that is, of course, a laminated photo of the two of you on your first date. She describes it as the most important day of her life and brings it up regularly.

“You know, I’ve seen this picture a hundred times, but every time I look at it, it hits me all over again—how much that day meant to me.” Her voice dips low as she confesses something so immensely sacred to her. “The day I realized you weren’t just someone I wanted in my life. I’d been waiting for you without even knowing it. I thought I had it all figured out before you. Fuck, was I ever wrong.”

(Just know there's no rush to decide anything big when it comes to choosing a method of healing, but it's there when you're ready.)

• On your hardest days, she stays close, but she doesn’t push. She’ll busy herself with repairs around the home or folding the mountain of laundry shoved up against the wall in your bedroom.

• Abby loves to buy those cute nightlights with little animals on them or the ones that change colours, and she scatters them around the house. When you’re lost in the darkness, right?

• She serves you warm drinks in your favourite mug and nothing else. She’ll handwash it a million times a day if she must.

• Abby's phone chirps with little alarms throughout the day, reminding her to do something special for you. This is all the time, not just when you’re depressed, to be certain.

• Weighted blankets everywhere. Vehicles included.

• I don’t care what anyone says, Abby is soft as a motherfucker, okay? Is she rough around the edges? Maybe. Yes. 100%. Fine, she’s a hot mess, but will she read you poetry aloud, until her voice is hoarse, and her lips go dry? Without a doubt. There are sticks and jars of lip ointment all over the place wherever Abby resides.

Fun fact: Abby hates when her lips feel dry, even slightly. She is constantly reaching for ChapStick and all its cousins. Whenever someone tells her she should stop using her precious lip stuff because it will improve the sensory nightmare in the long run, she’ll immediately do that pouty, nose crinkle thing at them and ignore the advice without a breath.

• Abby lets you wear all her sweaters. That’s a given. But when you’re depressed, she tends to reach for yours as well. It helps her feel close to you when she’s dealing with her own inner turmoil.

• She doesn’t fuck around when she senses you’re starting to spiral. Her routines are extremely important to her, but she will put them on pause to be there for you.

Now, does she gently, lovingly, force your ass to go on walks with her to get some fresh air somewhere you feel comfortable? Yeah, she does. This might be annoying at times when you’re really struggling, and she knows it. She’ll still encourage movement in a way that is manageable for you if leaving the house is too daunting.

If that means you’re standing on her feet, arms wrapped around her neck while she sways side to side with you, so be it.

• She'll binge-watch your favorite shows and movies with you until she drains all the power in the entire city.

• Abby won't make you feel awkward if you cry. She'll just start crying, too, even if she tries so hard not to. She gets better at keeping it to a little glossy eyed moment, but sometimes your pain is her pain, and the dam just… breaks.

• Abby is an actions over words type of human. She’s a doer. Also, timing doesn’t matter much to her. She is desperate to give you a future to believe in because she is so certain that what the two of you share is everlasting.

Abby proposes to you when your hair is a mess, and you’ve been in the same pajamas for days. Fuzzy teeth? Fear not. She isn’t afraid of the hard times. Her love is an anchor. A constant.

She wants to remind you that you’ll never have to face your dark times alone.

Shadows dance on the tapestry walls of the blanket fort, illuminated by the warm, flickering lights hanging inside. Across from you, Abby lounges with her legs stretched out and her back propped against a pile of soft pillows. She’s quiet for a moment, fiddling with something in her hands.

“You know,” she begins, her voice gentle and husky, like gravel smoothed by unrelenting water. “When I was little, I used to make forts like this with my dad. We’d sit in the middle of all the chaos and just… talk about random shit. Nothing outside could touch us.”

As she glances at you, there is a small, almost shy smile playing on her lips.

“That’s what this feels like—being with you. Even when everything else seems like it’s falling apart, you’re my safe place.”

Abby leans forward, her knees brushing yours, and you realize she’s holding a small velvet box. Her confidence wavers, revealing a hint of vulnerability you rarely see.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while. About us—what we mean to each other.” Her voice cracks a little, causing her to pause and clear her throat before she continues.

“I know you’ve been feeling lost. And I know I can’t fix it, even when it kills me—even when all I want to do is make the hurting go away. But I can promise you this...”

She opens the box, the ring glimmering in the soft light, her affectionate, earnest gaze meeting yours.

"I promise you'll always have someone by your side to help you through it. No matter how dark it gets, I’ll be right here with you. For the tough days, the good ones, everything the world throws at us. Because you’re it for me. You always have been."

With each word, her voice grows softer, filled with an unmistakable tremor of emotion.

“Let me be your person forever. Let me love you, fight for you. Let me build you giant blanket forts until we’re way too fucking old to do it by ourselves—and then let me find new ways to take care of you. Because it’s all I want in this lifetime. You’re all I see. Will you marry me?”

[archie-sunshine]

your art is genuinely cute and hot but you shouldn't treat your followers like that, man. responding everyone like everything is so obvious isn't the way you should treat the people who love you and your work.

maybe if you did a less confusing pinned post you wouldn't be that stressed out about people asking you things for the billionth time and getting your blog pixelated, just a tip.

I see your point, and I’m definitely working on being less reactionary when people don’t read the rules and all, and I totally recognize in the past my response has been frequently disproportionate

But really, here’s the thing. I post art online for fun. Yes it’s my job, but it’s also something I do because it’s fun. I had requests open near constantly for like an entire year, and that’s a service, you know? I said ‘hey, I’ll draw something for you guys for free, and the only rule is to read my clearly marked rules page’

And then they didn’t read the clearly marked rules page. And continued to not read the clearly marked rules page and that feels like. Really shitty! When people send in asks that go against my rules, I feel sad and disappointed that people didn’t at least check them before sending in an ask.

And then, after months of people doing that, and dozens of deleted rules breaking asks stacking up and people are still not listening to me, then it’s easy to have animosity to people who just genuinely didn’t get the memo. I like to consider myself a pretty patient guy, but you’d be as irked as I am if someone repeatedly prodded you on a topic you didn’t feel like talking about.

I feel bad for alienating people from my page but man you can’t come here and order sushi from my sandwich restaurant and then get an attitude when I get upset because you might not know it, but like the last 8 people in line before you all also asked for sushi from my sandwich restaurant and every single one left pissed off because I DIDNT HAVE SUSHI. WHEN I ADVERTISED THE FACT I DIDNT HAVE SUSHI. AND THEN SOME PEOPLE TRY TO ARGUE WITH ME ABOUT WHY I DONT SERVE SUSHI AND WHY I SHOULD SERVE IT.

Like to them, what they see is ‘I sent in an innocent ask one time and he blew up on me’. But what I see is ‘oh that’s the 12th tfp ask I’ve gotten this week and it’s only Wednesday, I’ve had enough, everyone leave me alone’ and yeah, it’s a bit immature of me, and I’m working on that

Going into this year I’m not gonna do the whole litany or explanation or anything like that, I’m just going to start deleting stuff more regularly, but I hope that explaining my side of things helps you understand my way of thinking.

And for the record, I don’t think my pinned post is that confusing. I made all the important links colour coded and a bigger font, it’s not that hard to find my rules.

[klunkcat]

dialogue prompts for ~injury~

11. “I’m going to lift you up, okay? Tell me if it hurts.”

with maybe portal duo my beloved :3 💙🧡

(I don’t know what’s wrong with me but I read this and immediately thought about how cold it was outside the other day, so this got away from me a little bit <3 if you live in upstate new york and know geographically that this is impossible, know that I looked up exactly enough for this to not be nonsense and that's it so sorry in advance lmao)

tw: mild injury, some mentions of potential suffocation (does not happen), avalanches

Maybe it’s a cliche to say that ‘everything happened so fast’, but in Mikey’s defense, it was freezing and he was thinking about the hot cocoa he was going to make when he got home (with mousse, and sprinkles. Maybe the cherries April had sneakily bought him the other day), and frankly it was freezing. 

The opportunity to hang out at April’s cabin with his brothers upstate had been a dream come true. Donnie kept the train carts from getting too cold regularly, but there was a power outage issue that made things draftier than even their mounds of blankets seemed to be able to drive out these days. When it had been suggested they spend a few weeks away until the grid could come back on, it sounded like a vacation. 

Complete access to an open acre of land in the mountains complete with a two story log cabin home, with full wifi? And a full kitchen? Paradise. Easy trade. Every single one of them had yes and’ed that bit. 

Of course, it didn’t mean they’d left the winter behind. 

One second, they’d been playing ‘Free Willy-Raph’, which is to say competing over who could launch themselves high enough off a snow hill to make it fully over Raph’s head – kind of like a pole vault but with a sled and a lot more crashing limbs– and the next. Well. Mikey isn’t entirely sure what happened next.  

He’d been up the slope, maybe a bit farther than his brothers had gone just to prove a point, spiced up on the barest bit of playful spite after Leo had beat him the last four times in a row, and sure he could get it this time. His brother’s and April looked like stickmen down the ways as he’d started settling down his bright orange sled. 

Suddenly, a shout, or a rush of noise. He wasn’t sure what came first. A roll of white, and he was flying. Swimming, maybe. Then: darkness.

Mikey’s not sure if he blacks out for a second, or when he blinks himself awake it’s just fallen instantly silent, but it’s muffled all the way up to his eyes. Oh, he thinks distantly. There is stuff on my eyes. It’s really unfortunate that his arms are too tired to move anywhere at all near his face. He wiggles his hands anyways. 

It’s cold, too— his thoughts are hard to order. It’s an all over cold like Donnie had stuffed snow down his jacket again. He hopes Raph caught him doing it this time. 

“Not funny, Dee,” he mumbles, and hey. Actually, it’s hard to move his lips, too. He knows something about that— Leo had drilled it into all of their heads after he’d read through one of the big medical textbooks April ‘borrowed’ for him. 

We don’t regulate temperature like people do, Leo’d said. Which means, if you lie around in the tunnels all day or take a funky trip up to skate around without a scarf. Bam, turtle pop. 

Does that mean we can’t go up top at all? Mikey’d whined. It would be horrendous if they couldn’t visit April for a good few months; they had a tradition on Christmas eve of watching the absolute worst Christmas rom coms they could for the entire afternoon before her parents got home from work. They’d never gotten that cold before. 

Leo’d poked Mikey and leaned forwards with a sideways smile. Nah, just gotta stay warm is all, Angie. If you feel sleepy, let me know okay?

“I think I’m sleepy,” Mikey tells Leo. Except Leo isn’t actually here, he doesn’t think. It’s cold, but it’s packed all in at him like there’s something warm under the center of it. He can’t really feel his toes, he thinks one of his boots might have fallen off. April had tried really hard to find some in his size, she’d probably be sad. 

Fuck, Leo thinks. Imagines a Raph who isn’t just as mortified as he is scolding him for it, and swears again just for emphasis.

In theory, he’d known that avalanches were a thing. He’d even made a joke about it as they were driving up and noticed exactly how nestled into the mountainside April’s parents place was. He’d thought it was more for skiers, or freak accidents in ice storms, or dramatic beginnings to a meet cute made by someone who had absolutely no understanding of gravitas. 

Not for little brothers. Definitely not for his. 

The notice that the snow was giving way had been almost nothing— a faint drum sound maybe. He’d hesitated, for a second while goofing around with Don and gotten a handful of snow to the face as a result. Mikey trudging stubbornly up the marker that Leo’d set to try to get even more airtime, bright orange sled bobbing with him as he went. 

He’d looked so tiny. For all his little brother was an absolute powerhouse of a maniac when he needed to be, sometimes it hit him funny just to remember that he was little. 

Then, a cracking noise. Something rumbling— a white hill appearing behind Mikey, farther up the slope, April’s gasp of sudden realization and— 

He couldn’t find Mikey. 

“Maybe he followed it out,” April said, panic making her voice sound thready to Leo’s ears. “If he— in an avalanche, you’re supposed to swim with it.” 

Leo shook his head. Numb down to his finger tips. “He wasn’t even looking at it.” Mikey hadn’t even seen it. His baby brother was a fluid instinctive wave of thunder in motion on his worst days, but it hit him from behind. They’d never been anywhere that had so much snow. 

Donnie made a faint noise to his left, the kind of exasperated hiss that meant he was overwhelmed and shutting down. He typed even more frantically on his wrist guard. 

“He’s here,” Raph said, swallowing roughly. “We just— we just have to find him. Right?” 

Leo nodded back. “Maybe we should, um. If we split up, we can cover more area. Don, can you lend Raph your staff?”

It was a testament to how far deep into shut down mode his twin was that he didn’t even argue, passing it over without a word. Leo tried to center himself. 

“It’s. If you poke first, gently. You can find more under the snow, so it doesn’t get more compact.” Raph’s weight would be a problem in terms of accidentally standing on Mikey, if he was under him. He tried to will his brain away from the mental image and failed. “You go left, I’ll start where we saw him and work down.” 

Raph nodded, mouth set in a wobbly line. Find him Leo, he imagined Raph saying. Please.

It was a tiny one, April’d said, which was the craziest part. They’d had enough time to back up out of the way, and it hadn’t reached the house. Just a top layer shifting with the snowfall from last week, probably. Just bad timing. 

There could be another one, if they weren’t careful. Leo was the fastest, he could portal himself down the mountain if he triggered anything, but it would mean Mike potentially buried under another layer. Shit. And it was cold. He’d almost told Mikey to come back down at first, because he was the most susceptible as the smallest to bone chill and they’d been out for a good hour already, but Mike had looked so determined—

He set out up the mountain. 

“Mike? Angelo?” He called, gingerly plodding through the snow, one careful foot at a time. “Buddy, you’re scaring us a little here. Can you make a noise? Reach a hand up? Come on, I’ll even let you tell everyone you won the jump if you want. Once in a lifetime offer!” 

The wind whistled emptily back at him. He shivered. The chill was already starting to bite further through his layers, or maybe it was the shock of seeing his baby brother’s orange hat swallowed up like it was being erased in front of him. This was supposed to be fun, was the thing. A big relaxation party time after barely surviving the end of the world, again. 

Dad had stayed home to keep the lights on, and April was off school for winter break, and it was supposed to be the best time ever so that dad didn’t get a heart attack and ground them all from ever doing anything until they were forty. Fuck, he thought again, which really put a finer point on things. 

What if Mike was hurt? What if he’d hit his head, or crashed into a tree– what if he couldn’t breathe, and Leo was walking around slowly above him all the while, oblivious. What if this nice holiday trip was the last time he ever saw his baby brother, and the last thing he’d ever said was a teasing insult about being last. 

“Mikey!” He called out more urgently. It echoed back, just on the side of too loud, and he froze. Waited. One one thousand, two one thousand. 

No drum sound, no cracking. Just the potential of his brother suffocating three feet to his left. 

Dad was going to lose it. 

He scanned around, white snow and wind blurring at his vision in every direction. Panic had already settled its grip in his chest so hard it hurt, his hands thrumming with adrenaline. It seemed all dead here, frozen still life portraits of something lost years ago. Grey and white and— there! 

A peek of bright orange, barely poking out of the snow. His sled. 

Leo collapsed beside it, digging immediately, heart in his throat. “Mike! Mikey, can you hear me, buddy? Are you— can you say something?” 

He wiggled the sled free after a long frantic moment, using it like a shovel. What if Mikey wasn’t even under it, what if the sled had flung itself the opposite direction, and Leo was wasting time— 

A gloved hand reached up through the layer of snow, weakly. “Oh thank fuck,” Leo breathed, and dropped the sled to grab at it with both hands. “You okay? Can you— is anything broken?” 

Mikey’s face appeared, paler than usual. Bunches of snow tucked against his eyelids. The most wonderful sight he’d ever seen. 

“C’n get it off,” he said, barely a mumble. Leo leaned in. 

“What was that, sweetheart?” 

Mikey’s face scrunched, a barely there motion but something that shot right through Leo’s heart with every big brother instinct he owned. “Snow. M’ eyes.”

“Oh,” Leo chucked, nervous and rabbit quick with fear. “I got you, shush. Hold on, Sunshine.” He pulled his glove off with a thumb, wiping at Mikey’s eyes as careful as anything. His hands shook violently.

Mikey cautiously blinked up at him, eyes dazed. “Leo, I’m sleepy.” 

Leo shoved his glove back on, pushed the remainder of the snow off Mikey’s legs. Unburying him as much as he could. “I bet, big day for you, huh? How’s about we get you down the hill–”

“No,” Mikey’s voice got a little clearer. “I’m. You said to say. If we’re cold and sleepy. I remembered.” 

Oh. Oh, shit. Leo made himself smile. “That’s right, I did say that. Great job for telling me. We’ll get you warmed up right away, okay? But I— I need you to stay awake before that, okay? Can you do that?” 

Mikey’s eyes fluttered. “Try.” 

The whiplash of fear and relief was making Leo dizzy. He nodded frantically, made himself stop. Mikey’d landed the right way up under the snow, had almost certainly hit his head from how his pupils looked, but he didn’t know if anything was broken. He shouldn’t move Mikey until he was sure, but— there was blue, just there ever so slightly. The edges of Mikey’s lips. Shit. Shit. 

“I’m going to lift you up, okay? Tell me if it hurts.” 

“‘Mm.” Mikey’s head flopped back into the snow. His hat was missing, Leo realized. He didn’t know where Mikey’s hat went. 

“Okay, that’s– that’s good. Hey, you were saying something about hot chocolate earlier. Can you remind me? You always make it the best.” He slid his arms under Mikey’s shell, one under his legs. Mikey rolled his head towards him as he pulled him towards himself like a limp doll– Leo made himself stop noticing. 

“Mousse,” Mikey said, simply. “And sprinkles.” He added, more crossly. 

Leo chuckled, then grimaced as he carefully moved to stand. “Yum, that sounds great. Hey, nothing hurts, right? You’re not being brave on me, are you?” 

Mikey let out a vague mumble, then frowned. “Raph was. He was gunna eat all my cherries, for the hot chocolate.” 

Fifteen years of growing up with Michelangelo was the only thing that prevented Leo from freezing in sheer confusion. The best way through was with him. “Oh? I’ll tell him not to.” 

“Good,” Mikey said, with a tiny head not he seemed to regret. “You can have one, though.” 

The trek back down was going to be slow, Leo thought. He smiled vaguely at Mike, listening carefully for any angry mountain noises around them. April and Donnie seemed to have noticed him already, at least. April was sprinting back to the house. 

“I’m special? Didn’t know you liked me carrying you so much.”  

Mikey huffed, sounding more like a sniff. “Didn’t put snow d’wn my. Down my jacket.” 

“Hm. Think that might have been the mountain, Miguelito. Are you feeling sleepy still?” 

“Head hurts,” Mikey said after a moment. “Oh. We were sledding.” 

Okay, good. Leo breathed out. “Yep. You got surprise attacked a little bit there, so we’re done for the day I think.” 

“Aw,” Mikey whined. Looked up at Leo with big eyes. “I lost my boot.”

His little brother, Leo thought with a wave of fondness so loud it felt like a heart attack. He nodded seriously. “April will forgive you.” 

He hefted Mikey up higher, making sure his arms are tucked in and his face pressed to the warmest parts of Leo's jacket. Hot baths and big blankets aside, he was going to make Mikey the biggest, sweetest hot chocolate the world had ever seen.

"Big shitty rom-com marathon in your future, Angie."

Mike sighs, just there against his pocket, looking smaller than anything without his mask. "Can we play the mustache game?"

He'll tape as many fake mustaches all over the screen as the kid wants, he thinks. "Mhmm. I won't even cheat."

"Yay," Mikey said tiredly. "Thanks f'r not letting me be a turtle pop."

"You got it, sunshine." His heart right between his hands. "Anytime."

[confiaenanaa]

haircut - b. rabbit

hairdresser!fem!y/n x jimmy

masterlist

synopsis: Jimmy goes to take Lily to get a haircut.

A/N: hey guys! ik it's been a while. sorry!! but thought this was cute.

Another morning at the salon; at least it wasn’t busy. Y/N looked over her schedule once again. Two trims and one cut and color. Simple enough. She turned her back to the front door, going into the back to make herself a quick cup of coffee. While she waited for her drink, she looked over the magazines her boss insisted on keeping in the waiting area. She looked through the assortment of articles. Nothing really caught her eye, but it was enough to keep her distracted while she waited for her first appointment of the day, which should have been arriving within the next 20 minutes. 

After she finished the elderly woman’s trim, she charged her and walked her to the door. First task done. She then waited another two hours for her next trim. During those two hours, she really exerted herself trying to find something to do. She had some snacks, watched a TV show on her phone, read some more magazines, and eventually found herself dozing off on one of the salon chairs. 

She groaned as she heard the familiar notes of the doorbell ringing. Y/N opened the door for the woman, leading her to the chair she just napped in. Snip, snip, snip. She cut her customer’s hair expertly, leaving it looking fresh. 

Once again, she had a wait, this one being four hours. This time, she heard the doorbell, but only an hour had passed. Y/N stood up to go greet whomever was at the door. She opened the door to see a tall and pale man. Somewhere near her age, she guessed. Brown hair and bright blue eyes. She caught herself staring, and quickly opened her mouth to diffuse the awkwardness. 

-Um, hey! How can I help you?

Just as she spoke, a little girl revealed herself from behind the man. She was visibly anxious, gripping onto the man’s shirt. She had beautiful blonde hair and a cute little face. Y/N smiled down at the girl and in return received a wry grin. 

-Hey, um, I was wondering if you could give her hair a trim? I don’t know if you take walk-ins but I thought she needed a cut. 

Y/N smiled happily and opened the door a little wider to let them into the salon area. 

-Yeah, sure! You’re lucky I have a free for the next few hours.

The man smiled at Y/N and urged the little girl to follow her. Hesitantly, she stepped forward.

-Hey, sweetheart! What’s your name?

Y/N kneeled to reach the girl’s height.

-Lily.

She muttered, barely above a whisper. Y/N smiled and led her to the wash station, which had a pillow or two on it so Lily could reach the bowl. 

-I’m Jimmy, by the way. 

-Y/N. 

They exchanged some quick glances and sweet smiles. Y/N then washed Lily’s hair while asking her some questions to try and get her to open up. 

-So, what’s your favorite color? 

-Pink!

-Mine’s pink too! That’s so cool.

Lily giggled at this while Jimmy watched lovingly from a chair a bit farther away. Y/N then brought Lily over to her chair and asked her what she wanted for her hair. Lily had fairly long hair, so there were quite a few possibilities. Jimmy walked over and showed Y/N a photo from a magazine.

-Lily said she wanted this.

Lily smiled up at them, excited for her new haircut. It was simple enough, some layers, cute little bangs and some face-framing pieces. Y/N got to work, snipping and cutting away. Then she blow-dried Lily’s hair and asked if they needed anything else. Y/N was bored, so she pulled Jimmy aside and told him she could throw in a mani-pedi, on the house, since she had a lot of free time and with how tiny Lily was, not a lot of materials would be used.

Jimmy agreed quickly, anything to please his girl.

-Hey, Lily, wanna get your nails done?

-Yes, please!

Y/N giggled at their interaction. It was too cute how they spoke to one another. She brought Lily over to the little spa area and got to work painting her nails with a bright and glittery pink polish. Once she was done, she brought Lily back to Jimmy. 

-How much? 

-Eh, 5.

Jimmy lit up, the price wasn’t bad. He quickly brought out a five-dollar bill and handed it to Y/N.

-Thanks a lot, she really loves it.

-Anytime!

They grinned at each other once again, Lily hugging Y/N’s leg before leaving.

-Bye!

Lily called out.

-See ya sweetheart!

[nicktremblaywayfu]

I've seen Outlast x Pokemon but i have yet seen Outlast x Monhun so IT'S TIME TO SHINEE (if you like dragons in general this post also for you)

Also, I wrote this as general as possible so non-fans can read it as well don't worry hehe. I also open request for this MH x Outlast for your OCs even if you haven't played Monhun so feel free to drop in your oc references and some details of their personality/behavior ;)

Leland Coyle - Zinogre

An electric k-9. There are many other thunder element monsters that I also think fit for him, like how Rey Dau uses his horn the way Coyle uses his baton or Kirin as his pride ride

But Zinogre would fit as this cop's best friend. With the biggest size length of 21 m, this giant electric puppy would be a pet that Coyle flexes 24/7. This wolf-dog monster also has a symbiotic relationship with Thunderbugs, which is the source of his electricity. This also means Coyle would use those bugs for his own power as well. So basically These two shares are similar in having electric source power for their ability (Coyle with his Pontiac Battery and Zinogre with its Thunderbugs). And bonus point Zinogre is canine themes

Mother Gooseberry - Rathian

Mother's knows best. And these two have strong mother instincts in their respective game. Rathian, just like any good mother, is very protective towards its younglings. The same goes with Mama Goose. They are equipped with deadly weapons to defend their nest, a sharp poison sting, and a drill. Oh and, did I mention in MH we have quest stealing Rathian's eggs and in Trials, we have MK kidnapping Goose's children?

Alternatively, the Pink Rathian variation also fits Goosebery's aesthetic

As for Futterman, I think he would be YiantKut Ku for shit and giggle lol (Although Yian Kut Ku is also treated like a bird mascot in MonHun like how Futterman exists in Trials)

Franco Barbi - Yian Garuga

I kinda struggled to find the perfect monster that fits for him but I think Yian Garuga fits him perfectly. Both have a purple color palette, and both have a precise aim of attacking the intruders. Franco aimed his Lupara to shoot the Reagents, while Yian Garuga launched itself from the sky and targeted unaware Hunters with its beak. Yeah, afterward you'll see the poor Wyvern got its beak stuck on the ground lol. Also, they have balding hair/fur around and are overall small-sized compared to other characters/monsters (listen, I'm gonna pretend Franco is dialogue-accurate considering Coyle mocked his height and Franco was insecure being small). Both Yian and Franco scream a lot in the game and they are very, very loud.

Alternatively, Shogun Ceanataur also fits for him as it uses its bottom (yes. Bottom), acting like a water pistol to shoot Hunters. Not to mention it's a crab monster and Franco has Dock map with sea theme inside.

Danny the Big Grunt - Nergigante

Listen, this one is very biased I'm (not) sorry. But also like, just look at his device and that dragon's spike. It fits the aesthetic (trust me). And the implication of Big Grunts eating reagents as meals with Nergigante titled as Elder (fellow dragon) Eater, yeah both fit. Also, this is because he shares the same VA with MonHun Stories 2' villain, Zellard. And that villain wears Nergigante armor so, yeah

Both Nergigante and Danny rely on raw power, with their muscle as their source of power. Nergigante was also considered big for his class, with muscular and meaty bodies he would body slam Hunters standing in his own way. Just like how Danny grabbed a reagent and threw them out of his way. They are also packed with strong punch and are able to inflict large damage on their enemies.

And bonus: Danny in MH Wilds

Pusher - Chameleos

There are three monsters that fit him, but I pick Chameleos because of its goofy googly eyes, Pusher's, and Outlast's theme connected with reptilians (Which Pusher also mentions about Tuatara, a lizard species). Chameleons is a chameleon dragon that has the ability to emit fog from its mouth (and steal your stuff), which reminds me on how Pusher gassed the Reagents. Chameleos are also able to spit poison smoke, which also reminds me of psychosis damage as both inflict damage on the player.

The rest of the candidates for Pushers are Volvidon and Congalala, two monsters that weaponized their stinky gas

Night Hunter - Malfestio

I think it's already obvious. Owl themed. Both prefer dark areas and swift enough to attack unaware foes in their dark lair. Just like owls, Night Hunter and Malfestio rely on pivoting their head and neck as they can't move their eyes like other people/monsters. There's not much I can think about it other than them being owl-based, but if you are both NH and jester/clown lover, this monster is for you.

Another monster that i think fits for NH would be Nargacuga, a dark cat-bird monster that hides in the dark to ambush its prey. Narga often pictured having its eyes glowing in the dark

Pitcher - Rathalos

Listen. This is very obvious. Both breathe fire. The iconic fire-breather in the game. Pitcher also speaks nothing but roaring and spitting fire on you, the same as Rathalos. Despite there are other fire-breathing monsters in MH, Rathalos is just the most iconic one and I place him with the Pitcher, our iconic fire shaman of Trials.

Berserker - Brachydios

Look at Berserker's gauntlet, then look at Brachy's fist. They shared the same vibe. Go punch punch, tho Brachy is not blind. The two use their fist to flatten their foes, except Brachy's fist leaves up green acidic slime that will explode on impact.

Although we do have a blind monster, I doubt this one looks like Berserker

That would be for Dave the Naked Big Grunt

I think that's all! if you want to request any outlast character / your oc with MH monsters I would associate with them, feel free! ;)

PS: if you are fellow Hunter-Reagent, let's play MH someday

[userautumn]

I have a genuine question about your other post, do you think people are loyal to tim as a person or like loyal to the show (for whatever reason they have) and feel like they have to defend it 24/7 and no one can criticize any aspect of it therefor being loyal to Tim? I hope this reads the right way cause I agree with you and you and Kay are really the only blogs I check in on

Both, actually. I don't know how long you've been around but members of this fandom (especially on Instagram and Twitter) are very protective of Tim Minear because, in their minds, how Tim is treated directly correlates to the chances of Buddie going canon. I have seen this sentiment repeated countless times over the years—Don't make Tim mad or Buddie won't go canon. I'd like to believe it started as a joke because, some years ago, we did used to poke fun at Tim. But somewhere along the lines, that joke transformed to a genuine sentiment I see echoed among some members of this fandom, which is concerning. It goes without saying that allowing one man the power to toy with hundreds or thousands of free-thinking adults is alarming at best, and very dangerous at worst.

People are protective of 9-1-1 as well, but only so much as it is imperative to them that the show maintain its status (in their minds) as "Inherently Good." Such a culture has been built up surrounding media consumption and what people are and are not "allowed" to engage with, and how that engagement correlates to one's own "goodness," that if you have a show that is "Inherently bad" and you continue to watch it, that also makes you "bad," and since no one wants to be "bad," it's easier to pretend the show is "Inherently Good" so that they themselves can stay "good." I think we can all agree this is absolutely insane and faulty logic. But this this idea all comes down to the vice-like grip rightwing ideology and internet activism have arrested society in. Everything is always connected, at the end of the day. But the gist is that people are defensive over 9-1-1 and Tim Minear with the same voracity for two very different reasons.

At least ninety percent of our problems as a fandom could be cured if people realized that, 1) They're not "bad" because of the fiction they engage with, no matter what that fiction is, (yes, even that) and 2) No showrunner should have the power to manipulate a fandom so deeply that the validation (or non-validation) of canon causes people to treat others inhumanely. Fandom is supposed to be a community; we must try to get back to that.

Now, am I optimistic that the 9-1-1 fandom at large will learn either of these lessons? No. But. Some people will, and that's good enough for me.

[froggyfernycabbage]

Wildest Dreamings

Chapter 4: Skimming the Surface

Fiyero arrives late to history class and finds himself seated next to the green girl.

Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3

READ ON AO3

The afternoon session of Dr. Dillamond’s history class had just commenced, the students settled along the aisles of the lecture hall, reluctantly ready to harp on the past.

As per usual, Galinda was nestled between her lackeys, Pfannee and Shen Shen, in the back row, while Elphaba sat independently in the front, a permanent empty seat beside her.

The professor was waxing poetic about the assasification of the Archduke Winkifred when the sound of doors banging open brought the lecture to a standstill, everyone turning their heads to see who had caused the disruption.

Fiyero stood in the doorway, looking frazzled, though no less handsome. True to form, he’d gotten lost on campus after his spree in the library, his new blonde friend having distracted him from comprehending that map sufficiently. Her “guided tour” had been more like a flirtatious stroll, and she also hadn’t known any of the actual building names. 

Thus, Fiyero had found himself wandering aimlessly after they parted ways, a crumpled up class schedule his only lifeline. Not that he was desperate to go sit in a lecture hall, but he didn’t need that excitable Head Shiztress writing to his parents to expose his immediate truancy. 

He’d bolted into Briscoe Hall, hoping the class hadn’t started yet, but the silent head turns that greeted him indicated otherwise. Their stares triggered the memory of a traumatic tardiness from his past, but then he remembered himself. He didn’t have to shrink in shame just because he was late on his first day. He didn’t care about punctuality, because that’s how untroubled free-spirits like him went through life. 

Dr. Dillamond, however, was concerned with the new student’s tardiness. “This class begins promptly at the 2nd hour, young man. You’re late.”

A small bit of humility overrode his dedication to indifference.  “My apologies, professor, is this Ozian History I?” 

“Yes, now find yourself a seat so we can continue our lesson.” 

Fiyero quickly scanned the room and was disappointed to find that there were no vacancies in the back row. Galinda, panicking, shoved Pfannee to the floor to free up a space for him. Before she could wave him over, Fiyero’s eyes found a single empty seat down front next to a bespectacled green girl.

Smirking, he made his way to the aisle and motioned towards the bench, “Is this seat taken, miss?” Not waiting for an answer, he slid into place next to Elphaba. 

“I was starting to believe I imagined you,” Fiyero whispered teasingly, “like some wood sprite sent to torment me in the dead of night.” She was tormenting him in the light of day by ignoring him. It was especially cold of her after he’d greeted her with his warmest wave earlier. 

“Don’t you know that it’s rude to talk during a lecture?” she whispered back at him harshly. Her acknowledgement was delicious, despite its bitterness.

“My apologies, Miss Studious.” Elphaba sighed with contempt. 

The lecture resumed, but Fiyero could barely concentrate with the sage shrew so visibly tense beside him. As the other students took notes furiously, he realized he lacked the essential tool of a writing pen. His satchel was merely for show as he’d forgotten to pack any actual study materials. 

He dared not risk his life by asking his neighbor to borrow one, so he sat back and listened, a little invested in the harrowing tale of the rogue chicken student and his potato gun. Dr. Dillamond was a passionate orator, and Fiyero was admittedly impressed by his vigor.

When that day’s lesson concluded, Dillamond dismissed the rest of the class but waved a hoof at Fiyero and Elphaba to beckon them over to his desk.

“Miss Elphaba, I wanted to speak with you about your midterm project. As you recall, it was intended to be a partnered assignment, but we had an odd number of students at the time. So, you offered to work independently.” 

Elphaba did not like where this was going. “Yes, Dr. Dillamond, I remember.”

“Well, seeing as we have,” the goat glanced at Fiyero skeptically, “a new addition to our class, I’d like for you and Mister… uh…” 

“Tigelaar, sir.”

“Ah, yes. I’d like for you and Mister Tigelaar to work together on the project.” 

Elphaba suddenly wished his horse had trampled her. 

“But Dr. Dillamond, we agreed that I could work on my own— I’ve already started!” 

“Well, I’m sure you’d be able to help Mister Tigelaar catch up. I look forward to seeing what the two of you accomplish together.” The goat nodded and trotted off with the departing students.

Betrayed by her favorite professor, Elphaba crossed her arms and seethed, glancing up at her undesired partner. He met her glare with an obnoxious grin.

“We haven’t really met properly, have we?” he asked the green girl, extending his hand. “ Fiyero Tigelaar, recovering trampler.” 

Her arms still locked in anger, she ignored his attempt at a handshake. “Elphaba Thropp, impending casualty.”

Elphaba. How fitting for someone so peculiar and striking.

He had half a mind to invite her down to the Ozdust that evening as a gesture of goodwill, but his ego couldn’t take another rejection from her. 

Before he could work up the courage, Galinda pulled him away, eyeing Elphaba as if to scold her for being so unwelcoming. As they made their way out onto the courtyard together, Fiyero’s curiosity got the better of him. 

“So, what’s the deal with that Elphaba girl? Do you know her?” 

Galinda whipped her head towards him in minute horror. “Well, she’s actually my um… roommate.” She whispered that last word as if confessing a sin. 

“Your roommate? How did that come to be?” Fiyero was suddenly desperate to know the lore of their connection. 

Galinda sighed like a true martyr. 

“Well, you see, she wasn’t originally enrolled here at Shiz. Only her sister, that tragically beautiful girl I asked Boq to invite out, was supposed to stay. But Elphaba caused a big commotion on the quad, sent things flying all around—”

“Wait, flying ?” Maybe she really is a wood sprite, thought Fiyero.

“YES! She gave us all quite the scare, I was nearly flattened by a bench!” Galinda placed her hand on her heart in exasperation. “Anyway, Madame Morrible took credit, Oz bless her, to spare the poor girl from more embarrassment. However, she saw potential in her and now Elphaba is in her sorcery seminar, which I think is really unfair because she didn’t even have to write an entrance essay!” 

“Sounds like she made quite the impression. But how did that lead to the two of you becoming roomies?” 

“Oh, that part. Morrible asked for a volunteer to share their room, and being the gracious person I am, I offered her a place in my private suite.”

“How good of you,” Fiyero remarked.

“I know. You think she’d be more appreciative, but no, she’s quite the prickly presence.” 

Fiyero sensed there might be more to their cohabitation than Galinda was letting on, but he decided not to push it. 

“So, I'll be picking you up around eight?” he asked as they approached the dormitory entrance.

Galinda perked up at the mention of their scandalocious plans. She winked at him, tossing her hair for good measure. “Sounds perfect!”

[seyaryminamoto]

Fic-to-Art #44: Zuko and Katara meet Hotaru

This time around, my Patrons chose these two scenes from the prompt I offered them... and that prompt was "Hotaru", our tiny firefly herself <3 drawing her continues to be a challenge pertaining how to ever make babies look cute, but I hope she looks alright this time!

These two moments take place not too far from the other, but it's worth noting that Katara and Zuko don't get to see Hotaru at the exact same time. Thus, I figured I'd take advantage of the opportunity... and draw Sokka and Azula introducing their little one to their respective siblings. This will be an emotional chapter (lots of those coming up), but I do hope that these moments of happiness will be a good way to soothe the pains caused by our very intense angst from the current chapters... to be specific, this is chapter 378, so we're not that far away!! Just gotta wait a bit longer!

A part of me took joy in this specific prompt... the fandom has an abundance of "uncle Sokka" and "aunt Azula" content, be it with them together or not, while Zuko and Katara (also while together or not) happen to be the ones who become parents first. This often relegates their siblings to a secondary role, and too often there's either implications or outright accusations that these two just aren't fit for parenting. I don't really remember seeing much, if any, content where Zuko and Katara are the uncle and aunt instead... thus, I figured this would be a fun switch-up that, ultimately, doesn't mean any of these four aren't fit for parenting (Zuko's already a dad, Katara will be a mother someday in the future!)! It just means that Zuko and Katara get to bond with little Hotaru and be supportive siblings! And everyone's happy and wholesome in the process!

At any rate! I hope you guys like it, and as ever, if you'd like to be part of the creative process behind these pieces, a $1 pledge makes you eligible for suggesting art prompts and voting for the winner, as well as reading Gladiator snippets 6 days before the next chapter releases!

[tblsomedoodles]

I recently met Jennika in the idw comics and now i have Family Web thoughts.

(i had said a while ago that i probably wouldn't add Jennika or Venus until i knew more about them. Well here we are. for jennika at least. Still haven't met Venus (if she's even in the idw comics. everyone else is so i kinda expect to see her at some point) but i have a way of adding her in as well, which i might do regardless.)

I'm not sure i have words enough today to explain my entire thought process on Jennika here, but i'm going to certainly try. under the cut b/c it might end up rambling

Jennika is the turtles' bio little sister born months after their disappearance. I'm not sure if Lou knew about her before everything went down (i'm thinking not since i'd imagine it was fairly new news to even Mama and she just didn't have the time to tell him.)

Her Spider traits are visibly subtle unless she is actively showing them off. Her eyes are red (and can be entirely red w/ a bit of a glow like mama's spider eyes) and her teeth are pointed. She can also stick to surfaces (which she does a lot) and she might do webs like mikey (i'm still debating that one.)

Jennika grew up fairly isolated b/c Mama already lost her other four and she didn't want to risk loosing Jennika as well. She had tutors for everything. She excels in dance class and when she showed interest in martial arts, she was given a teach and excelled in that too.

She idolizes her mother and, having grown up being told about her older brothers (and promises that they would be reunited one day) she idolizes them as well. Well, she idolizes the versions of them she's mentally imagined over the last 12 years. So meeting them in person would be a bit of a shock since she was expecting four perfect brothers and, instead, got four goobers who think that even frozen pizza is a delicacy.

She can already use her mystics pretty reliably (via a mystic conduit like the boys' weapons). Hers is basically just shadow clones that she can (maybe) mystically switch places with when needed.

She usually hangs out on the ceiling of mama's office when she's not in classes. But, once she turned 13, was finally able to convince Mama to let her help a little more directly. Since then she has posing as Mama's assistant (though mama insists that she must use a clone if the task is anything other than standing next to Mama. Jennika doesn't always listen to this rule.)

I might have more, but i can't think of it right now. so just enjoy some concept art for the turtle's little sister, i guess.

[rotisseries]

the amount of people on that post who straight up don't fucking get what I mean when I say "conflict free fluff" is an actual nightmare

[mayo-is-an-instrument]

I made a boo oc!! I'll make more drawings to use them for when I start making "serious" YouTube videos :3

[skibasyndrome]

So one thing I've always loved about uni/studying/learning new things is when you have different subjects or different tiny dots of knowledge and slowly, as you learn more and more, those tiny splashes of knowledge are becoming less isolated, and you realize that it's all connected and - at least with my subjects being in the humanities - you sort of “unlock” this new perspective on a certain aspect of the human condition. And like, that's fun enough and - if I'm being honest - probably my favorite thing about studying already as it is, BUT NOW, now that I've finally gotten back into writing as a hobby this is just ANOTHER dimension for me to expand that knowledge into and to use that knowledge for. And I am absolutely living for it. So happy to be back on my bullshit and so happy to be at a place in my life where these two passions of mine fit so seamlessly together and one passion benefits from the other and vice versa

[mr-independent]

you know, its not brought up in fics often but ted is extremely well read. he doesnt brag about it, but hes read everything from f scott fitzgerald's b sides to ayn rand's doorstoppers to the sixteen book Ender series, etc etc etc. Ted reads about as much as we see Beard reading (which. in my head is a trait that was passed on, a new focus to sharpen the mind and keep him out of trouble and his mind off drugs, something Ted offered up as a coping mechanism for when his own dad died, a way to have fun and adventure and escape without ending up in jail like Ted himself had a handful of times before, scaring the bejeezus out of his ma.)

this turned into a mini fic and i lost my train of thought but point is, Ted reads So Much and more people need to pick up on this in fics please and thank you.

[inafieldofdaisies]

WIP Wednesday | Tagging @thesingularityseries @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @adelaidedrubman @strafethesesinners @strangefable @nightbloodbix @aceghosts @madparadoxum @g0dspeeed @trench-rot @josephseedismyfather @josephslittledeputy @euryalex @sstewyhosseini @detectivelokis @purplehairsecretlair @jinfromyarikawa @shegetsburned @clicheantagonist @locustandwildhoney @fourlittleseedlings @poisonedtruth @vampireninjabunnies-blog @cassietrn @wrathfulrook @jacobsneed @voidika @harmonyowl @henbased @schoute and anyone with something to share <3

Sharing another snippet from Chapter 10: Calahan and Leslie's first meeting. A rocky start of a bromance. Sprinkling some Mary May x Hartley breadcrumbs in there, too. <3

Hours after discovering Harker passed out on the side on the road among two other dead Resistance members, Calahan found himself parking his truck in front of the Spread Eagle. Arguably, he had never needed a drink more. Not only had he lost two recruits, no matter how difficult they had proven themselves to be, while the third was still recovering from the Bliss bullet he was hit with, but he had discovered his biggest fear to be true: Sabrina was in the hands of John Seed, just like Hudson. He couldn't come up with any other explanation for what Justin had seen on that road after Charlie's group had ambushed the bastard. The woman sparing a life, the child in the car, every detail he had received from the woozy teen further confirmed his theory about the identity of the woman John had with him. And Savannah. His gaze darkened at the thought of the kid that called him uncle anywhere near that goddamned bunker. "Gray wouldn't allow it. She would fight like hell.", he whispered to himself as he finally exited the Eden's Gate truck he had recommissioned from a capture party recently. "Rest in peace, NOT, fuckers.", he said out loud as he slammed the door shut and turned in the direction of the bar. A couple of minutes later he was sitting in his usual seat inside, nursing a glass of whatever liquor Mary May still had in stock after John Seed had his men confiscate her main stash few days back. Bastard is quickly climbing up my shit list. Calahan didn't care much about what she was serving him as long as it took the edge off, calmed him down after finally getting news on Sabrina and her sister. His eyes fell down on the handmade rainbow bracelet Savannah had gifted him few weeks back, something he hadn't taken off since she had tied it around his wrist with the biggest grin on her freckled face. It was another reminder of what needed protecting, why he fought as hard as he did even before the Reaping's start. Why he argued with Whitehorse so often, why he lashed out at the damned Peggies as a result, why he didn't give a single fuck about protocol when it came to the Project. As he ran his fingers over the white beads that spelled out his actual name, not "Rookie", he told himself this is what Joseph should never get his claws into: the innocents he could so easily poison with his deadly ideas. And yet John had done just that- gotten his hands on Savannah, too. Where are you, Tiny? You better be alright or he will be paying in blood.

"Something's on your mind, Rookie. I can tell.", Mary May stopped in front of him. He let out a dry laugh, "Just the usual bullshit, gorgeous. Don't worry." "You sure?", she eyed the way he was gripping the glass in his hand as he willed his anger to settle down, to retreat, "You seem out of sorts. I've seen that look before, you know, then seconds later you were punching a customer." "He was asking for it." "Didn't say he wasn't. But still… what's up?", Mary May raised an eyebrow and leaned against the bar, her hand coming to rest on top of his. Calahan found himself unable to process the unexpected touch after months of her ever only being annoyed with his flirting. He opened his mouth, wishing all his worry would pour out as easily as she poured his next drink, knowing she was good at listening to people. Her soft blue eyes assured him of it in that moment, hinting that maybe she actually cared for him. Was willing to hear him out. But the words never came, instead the bell above the door chimed, putting an end to the brief moment between them as she returned to her post to greet whoever had entered. Calahan didn't bother turning around, instead he released a tired sigh and took another sip. He reveled in the familiar burn of the alcohol as it slid down his throat, in the promise it would get him closer to feeling numb, even for a short while. "I will be damned.", Mary May exclaimed suddenly. Her tone made him look towards the bar's entrance sharply, his hand immediately reaching for his pistol on instinct in anticipation of trouble. It took him seconds to register the sight in front of him, seconds where he wondered if he was imagining things, if the liquor was hitting him harder than expected. Certainly that was the only explanation for seeing John Fuckface Seed standing in front of him. Before he could think twice, he practically flew from his chair, almost knocking it over as he charged at the bastard. His hand wrapped around his neck before he slammed him into the wall next to the door with all his might.

"Where is SHE?", Calahan screamed, the anger he was struggling to keep under wraps escaping at the unexpected appearance of the man that fucked with him daily. The man that paraded Hudson on his broadcast as a cautionary tale for what's to come. The man that he suspected had Sabrina and an innocent child as prisoners, too. Deep blue eyes stared at him in confusion, betraying his panic. Good. You should be afraid. "I'm-", the bastard tried to croak out, the force of Hartley's hold on his windpipe made it impossible for him to get anything else out. Calahan knew he had to loosen his grip, that he'd get no information from a deadman, but his hate for the Seeds had reached a boiling point with the missed opportunity to save Sabrina still fresh on his mind. "CALAHAN! Stop.", Mary May pulled at his shoulder, trying to bring him back from the edge, at the same time the man grabbed his wrist, twisting his arm behind his back swiftly. "I am not JOHN SEED.", came out as a frustrated shout as he restrained him, the words making Hartley blink in surprise, his face no doubt mirroring Mary May's. "Let go of my arm, bastard, if you don't want me to break yours.", he gritted out and whoever the man was finally released his arm. "Rookie. You okay?", Mary May whispered as she put a hand on his bicep, her gaze a mix of shock and concern. "He attacked me, m'am. And you're asking if he's okay?" M'am? Fuck me. Definitely not John Seed. Calahan turned around, scanning the man that stood in a defensive pose in the doorway from head to toe. The dark hair, beard, blue eyes… he could pass for John's fucking double. "I will be damned.", he parroted Mary May's words from earlier, "Who the fuck are you?" The stranger rubbed his throat before answering, "Detective Leslie Parish. I'm here looking for, well, you." Calahan couldn't help the shocked laugh that escaped him, "Isn't my day just getting better and better?", he returned to his seat and pointed to the chair next to him, "Sit."

Mary May sprung back into action, retreating behind the bar as she addressed what she considered now a potential customer, "Anything to drink, Detective?" "Whiskey. On the rocks, uh-", Leslie responded in a low tone as he sat down and rubbed his face, "Sorry, I didn't catch your name…" "Mary May." She wasted no time pouring him a drink which he downed immediately the second she put it down in front of him. "Thank you." "Now you've officially passed the test. Definitely not John Seed.", Calahan spoke up, making the detective next to him laugh. "Sorry for almost choking the life out of you.", he added and reached a hand to him, "Deputy Calahan Hartley, though most call me Rookie." The man accepted the handshake with a raised eyebrow, "You're new to the Sheriff's?" "No." "Should I call you Rookie, then?" Calahan paused, not many had bothered to ask him that question, not since Sabrina had shown up on her first day months ago. "Calahan or Cal would be nice." Leslie nodded, "Noted." "I gather you're aware you look like a certain someone?", Mary May interjected. "My last few days have been hell. Fuck, the moment I arrived in your beautiful County, I had a shotgun pointed at my face. Lost count how many times I had to explain to people I'm not John Seed, or say I'm not related to him or his brother in any way." "Have to admit, it's kind of a challenge not to punch you in the face, no offense.", Calahan eyed him with curiosity, "Why are you here?" "I planned on visiting someone when all hell broke loose. Haven't managed to find her yet." "Who?" "I thought if anyone would know where she is, it would be you, Deputy.", Leslie took a deep breath, his blue eyes filled with worry as he muttered, "I'm looking for Sabrina Donovan. She used to tell me stories about you anytime we talked over the phone, then people mentioned your name as the one in charge of things out here, and it all clicked. I knew who I had to track down." Well, fuck me, ain't that a plot twist.

"I don't know what to say, aside from that I'm looking for her as well. Have been for days now.", Calahan took out his zippo, flicking it open and closed in attempt to soothe his nerves. "Where is she, Calahan? What happened?" "You might need another drink before I tell you that story." Leslie's eyes narrowed while Mary May poured him a second glass. "What happened?", he repeated in a low tone. "On the first we got called in afterhours by the Sheriff himself, Sabrina included, weren't told much about why until a Federal Marshal walzed in announcing we'd be arresting Joseph Seed. He was so giddy, too giddy." "Sabrina didn't tell me anything about the cult, how serious things were…" "Sounds just like her, too independent for her own good.", Calahan gave him a sad smile, before continuing, "So, we flew over to his compound, entered the fucker's church while he's holding a service in the middle of the night. Like what the hell, right? Sheriff had decided Sabrina would have the honors to slap the cuffs on him. At the last second, she backed away, all frantic, saying something's wrong." "She's never afraid of arrests. I've known her for years. She has chased down all sorts of questionable characters… not once have I seen her flinch.", Leslie's face darkened, but he didn't say anything else, waiting for more. "My thoughts exactly, but this family, Detective… They're different.", Calahan lowered his voice, "The second we walked in John fucking Seed was eyeing her with interest. Got even worse when she hesitated to arrest his brother while the Marshal lost his shit at the delay. I jumped in, cuffing him. We managed to escort him out… but his people refused to let him go, crashed our chopper." "Sabrina… is she dead? Is this what you're trying to tell me?" Hartley shook his head, "Last time I saw her, she was alive. I insisted to get her out, to help with that fucking seatbelt. Joseph's men were all around, took away the others from the chopper. Sabrina demanded I run, promising she'd be right behind." He was close to losing his cool at the memory of that cursed early morning.

Mary May put an ashtray in front of him then, whispering, "I'm making an exception this one time." Calahan gave her a grateful smile, lighting a cigarette and taking a drag of it before adding, "We never reunited, I bumped into the fucking Marshal instead, bastard left me to drown after we tried to make a run for it and a freaking plane sent our truck flying off a bridge." "Fuck." "Yeah. A good samaritan saved me. Dutch. Helped me get back on my feet, offered we start a resistance seeing how the cult has everything on lock down and no help is coming." "Good call, with everything gone to shit." He nodded, "We had a mole, you know. Fucking Nancy. Loyal to the "Father", as Joseph likes to call himself. Didn't get us the reinforcement Whitehorse asked for." "And Sabrina?" "Have been looking for her ever since the goddamned Reaping started. It's what they call this shitshow. "Reaping". Think they're saving our souls, that the world is about to end…" Leslie looked lost in thought as he uttered out, "I saw John's broadcast with the other Deputy." Hartley lit another cigarette, his anger bubbling as he kept reminding himself the man in front of him wasn't John, despite how much he resembled him. "Yeah, he has Joey. Has been calling me daily too, railing me up with her capture, but hasn't said anything about Sabrina." "I went to her house. Cult trucks were parked at the front, no sign of her or her sister, it's why I've been trying to find you, Calahan." "I might have something, but I doubt you'd like it. I sure as hell didn't. Are you sure you're ready?" Leslie downed his drink, "Yes." Mary May winced, "Yeah, maybe avoid saying that word," she gestured to his head, "with that face." "Sorry.", he sent her a knowing smile.

"Earlier today, a trainwreck of a recruit showed up here with his buddies, claiming he has intel on John's next move, was planning to ambush him. I didn't believe it, so I turned down their invite." "Something tells me they were right?" "Sadly. Hour or so later, I get a call from the youngest guy, saying they have him, listing off their location before he went silent. I drove there and found quite the bloody scene." Leslie's hands formed fists on the bar. "Bastard killed two of the three guys, slashed their throats, the one that contacted me got shot with a Bliss bullet, but he's recovering." "Bliss bullet?" "Potent shit. It's a drug the cult makes, knocks you out in seconds, the things they use it for… pure hell, Detective." "How are things this bad?" "They've been preparing. Joseph claims to see the future, you know. Visions from God, he calls them. When we showed up at the church, he said he knew we'd come, that we'd try to take him away, but "God" won't let us." "Fuck, and Rina didn't think to tell me any of this. Assured me it's all fine.", Leslie muttered in frustration. "She does that a lot, doesn't she?" "Who shot Harker with a Bliss bullet?", it was Mary May that spoke up, her voice curious. Calahan took a deep breath, revealing what he had planned on keeping a secret. "Sabrina.", he said quietly, glad the bar was empty. "What the fuck, Rookie?" "She saved the bastard, gorgeous. He has her sister, from what Harker told me." Leslie slammed his hand on the bar, "Savannah. Where are they?", he got up from his chair, but Hartley caught his arm, stopping him from storming out. "Sit down, Les. As much as it pains me to say this, to be the voice of reason… we have to be rational about this."

"I should have come with her.", he said darkly, but followed Calahan's advice. "I've been down that road, too. Thoughts about what I should have done keep me up at night. But if I know one thing about Sabrina… she's resourceful, resilient." "She is.", he smiled. "I don't know for certain where she could be, it kills me to think he dragged Savannah into that bunker.", his fingers touched the bracelet again absently, "But we can't storm it, not with how much manpower and resources he has, not without a solid plan or people we can rely on, especially when we have no eyes inside to be sure she's even there." "Fuck. I- I know you're right, Deputy." "He hasn't mentioned her once, Leslie. Not once in the radio calls to me, she's not in the broadcast, it's like he doesn't want people to know he has her. Anytime I ask about her, he dodges my question." "He's planning something." Mary May looked between the two with a unreadable expression, "You don't think he turned her?" "Fuck no, Mary May. You know Sabrina. I just told you she saved Harker." "Fuck.", she pursed her lips, "Rookie, I know the games John plays, how he breaks people. And after Nancy… what if Sabrina's on his side, too? Maybe has been all along." Calahan shook his head sharply, "She's not turned. She's not a fucking Peggie. I know her." "Fine. For what is worth, you know I trust your judgment.", Mary May crossed her arms over her chest, giving him a stern look. "Peggies?", Leslie seemed lost in thought as he asked that. "Project at Eden's Gate, Peggies for short. It's what locals call Joseph's men." "Noted."

Hartley took a deep breath, putting out his cigarette before he turned to Leslie, "Look, I know there's not much to do right now about Sabrina, not without more information… but seeing how you're here, that you found me, maybe it's all for the best. I sure as hell can use another helping hand against the Project." Leslie's eyes darkened, a look of determination coming over his features, "Your battle is now my battle, too, Calahan." "Good.", Calahan raised his glass for a toast before asking, "You got a gun, Detective?" Leslie nodded, "My service weapon.", he opened his leather jacket, showing off a holstered pistol. "We're gonna get you more serious firepower ASAP.", Calahan pointed to the gun, "You had to use it yet?" "A few times. The "Peggies" are everywhere. Even tried to take over the motel I was staying at. I tried to help people along my way here as much as possible.", he said the nickname with uncertainty. "Learning fast. The only good Peggie is a dead one, Les, because chances are they'd try to take you back to John's bunker or dunk you in the river to cleanse you.", Calahan's voice became lighter, "Hell, now that I'm thinking of it, you have an advantage, if you ask me. They see your face and start to wonder if they're not about to shoot their precious leader, giving you an extra second to strike." Leslie chuckled humorlessly, "What a way to spend my vacation days. I will keep it in mind." "Is Abeline okay?", Mary May questioned, her tone laced with worry. "She was when I left, she's a fighter. Who do you think pulled that shotgun on me? Never have been more confused in my life. She went from wielding a gun to making me coffee." "Good old Abby.", Mary May laughed, "Thank you, Detective. For looking out for our people." Her words made Leslie look away, "Just doing my duty." "We got a shy one on our hands, gorgeous.", Calahan slapped him on the back as he got up and headed for the door, "Come now, there's some people you need to meet." Leslie finished his drink, muttering a quiet "thank you" on his way out. "Leslie." Mary May called out before they could exit, reaching under the bar and pulling out a Spread Eagle branded hat that she threw at him, "Might want to cover your face as much as possible. Spare yourself a "friendly" welcome or two."

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Ughhhhhhh I hate writing and I hate not writing and I hate myself