#Suri's shots

[candescentkpop]

Suri

Checkmate: Drum

Checkmate Part 19 / ?

[bixels]

quick update on art moving forward:

i'm gonna be switching back and forth between doing more original work/non-mlp content and gg20s art from now on. things may go slower, but that's part of me trying to take care of myself vs. the past couple of months which has been "i need to finish and post at least 2 gg20s artworks every week or i'll die." i still need to finish that utena juri illustration, and i have a neat character design exercise i wanna do on designing 90s high fantasy anime characters.

for full transparency, here are some things i have lined up for gg20s (on my end at least, tulli's still going strong): character designs for nyc characters (coco pommel, coloratura, suri polomare), the disney opening sequence video, more rarijack (obviously), including that one-shot fanfiction, and a daring do comic.

ty guys.

[reobsessed]

Guiding My Heart

Pairing: Tav X Astarion, Reader X Astarion. Gender neutral. Content/Content Warning: Panic attacks, anxiety, fluff, hurt, comfort, kissing, 2200 words. Summary: You'd finally made it to Baldur's Gate, unfortunately the city overwhelmed you in ways you hadn't considered possible. Astarion finds you panic stricken, hiding beneath a bridge. He does his best to comfort you and guide you through the sunset streets back to camp. Author's Note: Hi guys thank you so much for the love on my last fic! Wanted to do a comfort anxiety fic, so please bear in mind panic attacks are depicted in here. Thank you again to Suri for the wonderful reads and edits!

The chance to regain your bearings never came, as you were flushed down the street by a torrent of people. You watched with garbled breaths as your companions navigated them easily, all while you were pushed back further.

Heart pumping, nerve tingling desperation took hold of you; the kind you’d only ever felt during the heat of battle. It was fight or flight, as you ducked into a bricked out dead end.

Were you dying? Your chest pounded and ached as though you were dying. Upon examining yourself, there was scarcely a wound to be seen. Checking yourself over for injuries only heightened your fear. What if it was poison? 

The numbing weakness in your legs grew, you clutched the wall for support. 

“Darling, darling? Whatever is the matter?” The sweet words of your lover filled the hollow of the underpass. 

You could only respond in the form of irregular gasps. Fingers, slender and cold, held steadfast to your waist. You gave up control and allowed them to lower you onto a nearby crate. He crouched down beside you and pried your balled up fist away from your heart, replacing your hand with his own. 

“Did something frighten you, my dear?” His forehead crinkled with concern, before being undercut by an attempt at humour. “I’ve only ever heard it beat that fast for me, but I suspect this time I’m not the cause.” He shot you a reassuring smile, belied by a tremble in his voice.

“Started panicking. Don’t know why,” you choked.

He looked at you sympathetically, before rising to his feet. “Won’t be a moment my dear, stay here.” And with that he ran off, back the way you came. You could hear murmurings outside. Those of your partner’s hurried reassurance and that of your companions, voices raised with concern and inquisition.

The voices began to die down, as did the palpitations in your heart. Astarion rounded the corner back towards you, but slowed his approach upon seeing your distress. He moved gracefully and feline, as if you were prey not to be disturbed.

You looked behind him worriedly, but were relieved when none of your other companions followed behind. They didn’t need to see you like this. You didn’t want them to see you like this. Ideally you didn’t want anybody here, but if it were to be anyone you were glad it was him.

“Now then.” He crouched down beside you, dabbing your forehead with a frilled cloth. Cooling relief washed over you as he held the palm of his hand against your temple.

“Feels good,” you sighed, leaning into his touch.

“Ah yes, I thought that might help. You’re terribly warm.”

His gentle touch and the soothing cadence of his voice were enough to calm you, but the unpleasant tingle of your limbs persisted, as did your erratic breathing.

“Sorry for all of this, Astarion.”

“For what?” he mumbled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me. You only just got back, you finally get to see it in daylight and I’m ruining it.”

“Don’t be silly! We’re hardly leaving tomorrow. I’ll have plenty of time to wander the sunlit streets.” 

Despite his reassurance, your eyes began to well. Something about the rise in his tone unsettled you and like a toddler crying over their parent’s temper, you began to sob.

“Shit,” he muttered, looking around desperately; his face an entanglement of hurt and bewilderment. “I didn’t mean to upset you, my darling.” His hands clamped over yours, desperate to provide you with any sort of comfort. “Did I do something wrong?”

You tried to speak, but all that came out were incoherent whimpers. He looked at you with panic stricken eyes, hands still holding firmly onto yours.

This wasn’t fair, he didn't know how to deal with this sort of thing. You were supposed to support him, you-

“My love.” He looked at you sincerely, a slight smile gracing his lips; one of those rare, genuine smiles, few ever got to see. “Let’s stay here a little while longer.” He planted a tender kiss on the corner of your mouth and held you close.

Tears of a new source began to flow and there was no holding them back. His fingers curled around yours; you were drowning and they were your anchor. You tried to wipe away your tears, but he wouldn’t let you.

“Gods, darling, no. Think of all that dirt and those… fluids- from your enemies I mean, not yours.” He pulled another handkerchief from his pocket (did this man just have an endless supply?) and gently, he dabbed at your eyes and cheeks.

“Thank you,” you sniffled.

“There we are.” He looked you up and down, appreciating his work. “All cleaned up! Shame about your makeup, but nothing we can’t fix.”

Red soreness blazed across your cheeks and seared your eyes with swollen intensity. A quick glance into a nearby puddle revealed the inky smear that enveloped your eyes. Gods, what a sight you were and yet he looked at you with such affection.

You lamented his hands detaching from yours, until they returned to your thigh, stroking soothing circles up and down your leg. Lodged deep within the pulsating heart of the city, you'd finally found your pocket of serenity. Unfortunately your respite was short lived as adolescent bellows converged on your hiding spot.

Astarion’s ears twitched in their direction and his face warped from one of contentment to bitter irritation.

“Oi, oi hanging out under a bridge.”

“Like a couple of lovesick trolls.”

You rolled your eyes at their childish remarks. Astarion, however, lacked the patience needed when dealing with youths. He shot them a glare so piercing, it silenced them in an instant. He was a stray cat, territorial and fierce. A non-existent hiss threatened them from the shadows and like a pair of puppies, they whimpered and scurried out of view.

“Was that really necessary?” you laughed hoarsely. 

“What? You can’t honestly expect me to sit here listening to children babbling on.”

You stifled your laughter. “You’re such an old man. You used to be like that too, you know?”

“I’ll have you know, I was never the sort.”

“I sometimes wonder about that myself,” he laughed bitterly, changing the subject. “Are you feeling better now, love?”

“Hmm, I wonder what kind of child you were.”

You closed your eyes and nodded. “We need to get back to the others.” You rose to your feet and Astarion joined you, a supportive hand on your lower back.

“Very well then, I’ll lead the way.” His fingers locked with yours as he led you back into the sunlight. He lit up literally and figuratively, his skin beaming like a pearl in the warm light and his mouth curling into a soft smile. He was truly in his element. “Which route would you prefer? We have the scenic back alleys of Baldur’s Gate and the even more picturesque sewers down below.”

“We can go the normal way. I don’t think I’ll subject you to the sewers just yet.” You smirked knowingly. Your adventure would lead you down into the sewers eventually, why wouldn’t it?

With a guiding hand he led you away from the dark alleyways and into the teeming streets. You did your best to suppress your rising panic. You focused on the prevailing scraps of nature: trickling water, rustling leaves and the painless cry of birds up above. Astarion, on the other hand, had been suspiciously quiet. You noticed how his eyes lit up with delight, as he stared across the street.

“What’s over there?” you asked.

“Huh? Oh, you mean that.” He pulled you in closer; one hand wrapped around your waist, the other still clasped in yours. He pointed across the street. “I’ve always wanted to visit the florist’s over there. The flowers have the most delightful fragrances.”

“How come you’ve never- ah.” You trailed off sadly, already knowing the answer.

“They always close before sundown. It’s rather unfortunate Cazador never let me bring anything home other than victims. A bouquet of flowers could have done wonders for that tacky little entranceway.”

“Well, we could always go together.”

“As much as I’d love to tour the city with you, you’ve had a long day. Let’s get you back to camp first, hm?”

“Okay, we’ll come back some other time.” You said, making a mental note of the store’s exact location.

The sun began to retreat, lost to the shadows of the upper city. There was no quieting of the streets, as the fading light gave way to an influx of people; those departing their homes and businesses, ready for whatever nightly activities they had planned. Astarion held you near to him, skillfully threading you past any who came too close. 

While you had no intention of stopping, a prominent display of cakes and pastries caught your eye. You ground to a halt, dragging Astarion with you. Unnatural hues of reds, pinks, greens and blues peered at you from behind the glass, like rows of infernal eyes. Their construction was intricate and put the very store they were displayed in to shame.

“Quite darling aren’t they?” he said, standing beside you.

“They’re pretty. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted something so beautiful.”

“Speak for yourself,” he replied fondly, looking through the glass; his reflection non-existent, as he looked between you and the cakes. “A sweet treat for my sweet treat.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Yeah, we should really be getting back.”

The sun had almost fully set, your surroundings becoming a drab greyscale of abandonment. As you got further and further away the sounds of the city began to fade, muffled behind crumbling properties and streaming waters. It was peaceful, walking together in comfortable silence, firmly attached to one another.

“I could get used to this, you know? Strolling through derelict back alleys with you by my side,” Astarion mused. 

“I’d like that. Wouldn’t mind a change of scenery though, a bit more greenery perhaps.”

Astarion coughed nervously, turning to face you. “I was wondering if maybe you wanted to talk about what happened earlier?”

“I don’t- I don’t really know what there is to say,” you stammered in response.

“It’s alright, we’ll work through it together. We always do.” He flashed you a resolute smile.

“You don’t think it’s a little pathetic freaking out over nothing?” 

“The city can be quite overwhelming, I suppose. Not that I would know, I’ve lived here for hundreds of years.” Just like him to humble brag. “I’ve done my fair share of ‘freaking out’ on our little adventure, far be it for me to judge you.”

You wrapped your arms around him, hiding your face in the fabric of his armour. “Yeah, I guess I’m just not used to it. Sorry, again.”

“Oh stop it.” He returned the gesture and held you in his arms. You stood together silent in the moonlight, rocking against one another, all while steely waters lapped against the canal wall.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been anywhere so… populated. I feel trapped, like a rat almost.”

He gave you a once over. “Well you certainly don’t look rodent like. The taste is significantly better, I might add.”

“I wish I was a rat, then I could just run and hide in a nice wall.”

He hummed in contemplation. “I know it might be odd for me to be the one saying this, but perhaps running away isn’t the best option? We’ve faced all our problems head on so far, surely this is no different?”

You buried your face back into his chest, your agreement coming out as a muffled groan. “But what if it happens again? What if it happens while we’re doing something important?”

He rested his chin atop your head, arms still encircling your waist. “I’ll be with you, so you don’t need to worry.” He pulled back to look you in the eyes. “Just don’t stray too far from me, okay?” His tone was steady and confident, but there was a desperate and needy look in his eyes. A far worse person could take advantage of such adoration. You couldn’t let that happen, you’d never let anyone use him ever again.

You cupped his face in your hands, doing your best to look as sincere as possible within the eyes that reflected you. “I’m not going anywhere. Especially not while Cazador’s still alive.”

Satisfied with this answer, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was firm and tender, a silent act to seal the promise between you both.

“Right, we should get back before one of them burns the entire camp down,” you said looking off into the distance concernedly.

“Always a possibility when you’re not around.”

The hearty chatter and crackling fire were a welcoming sight, as you approached camp. None of the others had noticed the two of you yet and you were determined to have one last moment alone with your lover. Feeling at ease, you asked him one final question.

“Astarion?”

“Yes, my sweet?”

“Do you wanna go on a date with me?” You grinned sheepishly, lips brushing against his.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 114 (A Winterfest to Remember?)

The events of this post occurred leading up to and during Winterfest (Generation 2 parts 99 to 102)

As Winterfest approached, Nicola and her brother Dominic allowed themselves to reminisce about holidays with their father. The spirit of the season had begun to infect them, and their gloomy hearts were beginning to open up to the spirit of the season.

Hazel woke late and came downstairs - she'd been at the Gnome's Arms until the early hours of the morning, and Nicola wondered how she could be so chipper. "Morning!" Hazel said, but the number of good mornings between them had dwindled. "Are we all ready for Wicked Winterfest Movie Night at the pub?"

"You've been home for five hours and you already want to go back?"

Hazel shot an annoyed glance at her wife. "We've been going to Wicked Winterfest every year since high school."

"Midnight Massacre 3 is barely even a Winterfest movie."

"It takes place on Winterfest Eve!"

Nicola sighed. "I just don't feel up to it this year. Don't you want to stay in and watch something less gory? My mom said she'd bake her chocolate chip cookies."

"River, Cass, even my Dad said they'd be there tonight. It's a tradition. I have to go."

"You don't have to go."

"Well, you don't have to stay home."

Hazel left for work in a foul mood. While she and the mayor canvassed in Finchwick that afternoon, he stopped to talk with her near the village green.

"Is something wrong, Hazel? You haven't been applying yourself to the job as much lately as you did when you started."

"I like my job, Mayor Varner, but I'm not sure this is what I want to be doing. It's a lot of administration and I don't know if I'm making a difference."

The mayor smiled warmly. Taking the reins of a town like Henford was rarely a stressful job, but Mayor Varner was kind and unflappable. "Enjoy your time off over the holidays, and give your future some thought. We can talk more about it in the new year."

Hazel met her family in the upstairs den of the Gnome's Arms, where every Winterfest they played slasher flicks for those who appreciated a little subversion from the usual cozy celebrations. Her sister-in-law, Cassandra, was delightful and charming but also a little gloomy from time to time, and she loved this tradition as much as Hazel.

"Midnight Massacre 3 never gets old. It's a Winterfest classic!" she gushed, too excited to sit down.

Hazel stayed out late for another night, chatting into the early hours with fellow local horror fan, Elsa Bjerg-Watson. She lived in Old New Henford with her parents, Bjorn and Clara, her wife Maira, and their daughter Jada, but she said the family had just made room for her niece, who had moved to Henford from San Myshuno.

"Suri broke up with her girlfriend a few months ago and she needed a change of scene. My mother's the best professional baker this side of Simlandia - even she knows she'll never match Noemi Alegria in Tartosa - but Suri wants to be as good as her grandmother someday."

"If Suri's cakes are as good as Clara Bjergsen's, I'll be her best customer," said Hazel.

The next morning was Winterfest Eve, and Nicola's mom, Kim, made chocolate chip cookies. She probably missed Eddie's presence at their holiday celebrations even more than her kids, leaving the cookies on the kitchen table before heading upstairs to cry it out in her room.

Hazel joined her wife in the kitchen and made a beeline for the cookie platter. "Did you want to head over to my parents tomorrow in the morning to open presents, or did you want to open presents together here?"

"We want to open our presents on Winterfest Eve this year because Dad always liked opening them before bed."

Hazel shrugged. "Okay, great. Then tomorrow we can go over in the morning for presents with my family, too."

"We want to go for a walk to see the wildlife on Winterfest morning. Dad loved living out here for the wild foxes and bunny rabbits."

Hazel didn't mind Henford's picturesque forests, bunnies, and birds, but they could walk through Isle of Volpe Park any day of the year. "I'd really like to go over to see my family in the morning."

"You're with them all the time," she said. "Why not make time for me?"

"Nic, I'm sorry you lost your dad, but he wouldn't want you to mourn him this long. He loved you too much to see you so sad. But when I'm home you're grading papers."

"You don't know what my Dad would have wanted, Haze. And seriously, when are you home?"

"I'm home right now and we're fighting again!"

Nicola and Hazel finally heard themselves and grew quiet, but a bitterness had long ago started to fester.

Hazel spent Winterfest Eve and most of Winterfest Day with her family, not her wife. She gushed over Heather's new engagement ring, and wouldn't let her own relationship troubles dampen her excitement for her big sister.

Hazel lingered outside a while before sunset. She hoped to delay going home just a little longer, in favour of a cozy celebration with her family. Like old times. She finally turned to leave when her phone buzzed with a text from Nicola.

Come meet me by the rink. Please.

Henford's local ice rink was just across the laneway from her childhood home on Cobblebottom Street, and she met her wife next to the ice with a kiss.

"I'm sorry I've been so hard to live with lately," said Nicola with a sheepish smile. "I don't let myself get sad about my dad, but holding it in makes me angry. I know I need to talk to someone for me as much as we need to talk to someone for us. But I love you, and I want to make us work."

"I want that, too."

With the sunset providing a picture-perfect backdrop to a tense Winterfest season, Hazel and Nicola found a way to end Winterfest with a cozy celebration at the ice rink, after all.

Could their blissful moment last, and would they make time for counseling as intended? ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

In case you're wondering why this is such a sad arc already, Nicola's grief moodlets say it is:

[havin-fun-imagining-twd]

Trust Nelly's instincts

Aw hey, time for the infamous second pharmacy run

What -- Maggie said that the area where the drugstore is has been empty. Thank God, an uneventful trip sounds great! And nothing has gone wrong with keeping the secret about the barn, so, things are looking pretty good right now. And it's so weird that you thought it looked like Carl had a gun tucked into the waistband of his cargos, right? As if.

Who -- The series is slow-burning, canon-compliant Daryl x Reader. In this chapter, you're joined by Maggie, Glenn, Hershel, Lori, Carl, big brother Shane, Rick, Dale, a cameo by Jimmy, and most importantly: Nelly! (<- she's the horse)

When -- Chronologically after "A near-perfect Sunday," Meaning we're back where we left off in Season 2. This chapter takes place in S02 episode Secrets, and as with all chapters that take place directly in an episode, there is word-for-word show dialogue.

Special note -- The last chapter published was a time skip all the way to Daryl Spinoff Season 1, for those who want a little bit of non-linear fun featuring angst and fluffy yearning

Perspective -- 2nd person

Pronouns - none

TWs - mild language, bad screenshots, some intense scenes.

Masterlist to the rest of the Slowpoke Series :D

Trust Nelly's instincts

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

Morning

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

“I feel so special!” you sing. Nervous Nelly is letting you ride her again!

Mr. Greene gave you permission to ride her at your request. In fact, you can’t help but squeal, “Thank you, Mr. Greene!” one last time. You hadn't expected your squeal to travel quite so far, but you see his tiny, far off form turn ever so slightly and raises his hand in acknowledgment. Ha.

Thrice so far you’ve practiced riding on horseback for the pharmacy trip. You’ll be leaving with Maggie and Glenn closer to noon, and the trip might should last an hour and a half to two hours? Maybe less, you don’t know. After target practice, T-Dog is doing an extended search for Sophia today with Carol and Rick, so he’s not coming anymore.

The list is all ready to go. You’re going to look for one of the bio-identical types of progestogen that Lori was prescribed before. She���d miscarried a bunch of times, and finally (finally) her doc had her try it out because Lori had done the research and brought it up. The first trial ended in another loss, as was expected. Except she didn’t get pregnant again that she knew of until now.

As for the Rh shot, you have no idea if it would even work anymore. You don’t know how it’s supposed to be stored or what the shelf life is. But there's a high chance she’ll need it if both baby and her are going to survive.

Ooh, maybe the pharmacy has a manual you can utilize! Like, you have a Merck Manual but it only goes so far.

Either way, your prayer is that Lori and new baby make it to the finish line together. Another loss, now, may be too much for her to handle.

“You’re the sweetest horse, yes you are, sugar,” you coo. “Such a pretty, sweet horse, Nelly, such a sweet, sensitive girl.” *muah!* “I love you, Nelly-belly!”

The snickering you hear is…ah, Jimmy’s.

Side-eyeing him, you make your accent fancy like Blanche Devereaux’s and pretend to glower. “Hmph! It appears young James is jealous of our bond, Miss Eleanor. Pay the boy no mind.” If only your attempt to turn her around like a pro didn’t result in her doing a 360. Twice. In opposing directions when you tried to correct her, oof, that’s embarrassing.

“I thought you’d ridden before.”

“I did for fun when I visited friends at a rez in Oklahoma. We’d hang at the ranch nearby.” You were so painfully homesick the first (and second and third and fourth) time(s) that it’s shocking you chose to go back in one or two-week increments during so many summers. How Zee and Suri survived those entire summers visiting their mom’s side of the family out of state, mostly away from their parents, you may never know. “I learned how to ride a motorcycle there, too.”

“Cool, you know how to ride a motorcycle?”

“Yes indeed!”

He must be so proud of his follow-up: “Do you ride ’em better than you ride horses?”

“Difficult to say when clearly I am a great expert on the saddle, farm boy,” you goof off.

Jimmy just chuckles and brings the brush and hoof pick back to the stables.

You try your hand at having the horse canter (is that the word for horse jogging? Or is that trotting?). It goes okay. You just need to remember to use the reins to slow her down, not your feet, which make the opposite happen.

After 10 or so more minutes of practice during which you go back and forth pretending you’re in the Lord of the Rings or in the Old West, you hop down and hitch her to the fence post so you can pee before you go back to the campsite.

It’s your turn to wash the dishes from breakfast.

What a comfort that this trip is more than likely going to be entirely uneventful. Maggie went with Otis lots of times into town, and then her and Glenn’s trip was fine, too. According to her, the place is now empty. She hasn’t even seen any dead ones for weeks.

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

Mid-morning

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

“Glenn,” you murmur when he walks by with the latest bushel of bribery-peaches. He’s staring at the barn a little too obviously again. His skin looks clammy, too. “Did you have another nightmare about it?”

“A really bad one, right before I woke up. I keep—” he shivers. “Every time I look in that direction, it’s like déjà vu.”

“That sucks.” What else to say…“Only a few more days and we can revisit how to tell people. I really think I that time Mr. Greene will see reason. I got a feeling about it.”

“And I’ve got a feeling that they’re gonna bust down the doors and eat us.”

“They wouldn’t bother, you’re too skinny. You should eat more of them peaches,” you joke. “And enough carryin’ food like you’re still the delivery guy.”

“It helps me feel in control,” he admits. “I swear, I almost blurted it out to your brother when I was walking around with the basket just now.”

A shiver runs through you. “Well, thank you for not. Want my mp3 player?”

“No. I want to be able to hear when they break the chains around the door.”

You’re momentarily distracted when Carl walks by with a thick stick in his hands. Does he have a g…no, of course not.

It’s dumb, you thought he looked like he was packing. It was just the way his shirt was puffing out and folding because of the sheath of his knife, duh. Must be on your mind because he’s been asking and hinting more and more about learning.

Just the other day, he asked when you were helping Beth with safety switch drills if you’d teach him, too. You showed him that aspect, but repeated that he’d need express permission from both parents to learn to shoot, and suggested that he go to Uncle Shane to help him ask. Shane’s the best instructor, simply put, more than Rick and T-Dog and definitely more than you.

After standing by the adults (and Jimmy, who's taken on more and more of a role in looking for Sophia) planning the day’s search areas, your nephew takes the shady spot under the awning and leans against the side of the RV. He appears to be carving a point at the end of his stick.

Aw, it’s like the way Daryl sharpens the points of his bolts sometimes. Cute. Cuter still how he’s loving wearing Rick’s deputy hat that he gifted him. Such a little man.

It looks like Beth and Patricia asked to come to target practice again today, good. Jimmy keeps trying to shoot with the gun cocked sideways, it’s pretty funny. His mom will get a laugh out of it, hopefully.

When Shane saunters over and waves you to join, he claps his arm around your shoulders from the side with a “G’morning. Say, I, uh,” he then murmurs in your ear. “I think I need your help for this. You noticed the tracking on him, too, I assume? I saw you do that double-take and I reckon you’re right.”

You trust him entirely but want him to be wrong. Carl would have had to take a gun without permission to be carrying, an idea you don’t like one bit. “It ain’t just the way his shirt’s falling?” you quietly wish.

“I been telling you: trust your instincts. You’re not an idiot.” He briefly touches his forehead to yours, takes another bite from his half-eaten peach and tilts his head toward Carl before leading the way.

“Dude. Nice lid, man,” he tells him regarding the deputy hat, then walks around to the opposite side of the RV with the two of you. “What’s goin’ on?”

Upon getting a closer look, yes indeed, Carl is carrying.

It was well done, tucking it on the same side as the sheath. Makes it easier to miss.

“Were you trying your hand at making a bolt from scratch for Mr. Dixon or just killin’ time?” you comment about his whittling. He wouldn’t have taken a gun just for ha-has, he’s a wholeheartedly good kid. You can’t quite wrap your head around it.

“I was just killing time.”

“Well, it looked cool, punk,” you tell him softly, smiling through the disappointment. Sighing, you crouch and wait for Shane to do the rest.

Carl looks at you, then at his uncle. “I wanna learn to shoot, too. Can you teach me?”

Your brother chuckles as he sits against the RV’s front grille. “Well, man, that’s, that’s up to your parents.”

“That’s what Y/N said.”

Shane nods at you. “Y/N’s right.”

“Can you talk to them? They’ll listen to you.”

Chewing another mouthful of peach, Shane takes his time but is completely serious when he agrees, “We’ll see.”

Let down, Carl nods politely and makes as if to walk away.

You hold out your hand to slow him. “Hey. A moment, little man.”

Shane gently but firmly orders, “Let us see what you got there.”

Slowly, Carl lifts the front right side of his button-down.

“Carl Lincoln Grimes,” you cannot help gasp upon seeing exactly which gun he has tucked into his belt. “That is your mama’s.”

Your brother is staring, visibly pissed. You just know he’s imagining taking a whistling teakettle off the stovetop to help keep his cool.

It wasn’t just any pistol from the bag in the RV. No, that gun is Lori’s.

Shane looks to his left where no one is standing, hurls underhand what’s left of his peach in that direction, and stands. “Thank you,” he grunts, then strides away to get Rick and Lori.

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

Mystery number of uncomfortable minutes later

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

Lori gave Carl a chiding so effective it only needed her to state her disappointment that he’d went behind their backs. She’s so upset. So upset. You’re settled at the picnic table where Carl is awaiting his sentencing.

Briefly, you catch Lori laying her hand on her stomach, her forehead knotted in worry. Hopefully she’ll tell Rick about the pregnancy soon. Guarding this secret will only lead to more hurt the longer it stays a secret. She stands from where she’s been kneeling by you in front of her son, tucks her gun into the back pocket of her jeans, and joins the other adults. Other than Rick and yourself, Shane of course stayed, but Dale is also here.

“Bet you four quarters someone brings up how I started learning gun stuff when I was eight,” you whisper to your nephew, trying to lighten his mood.

Carl doesn’t make a yes or a no, he just sort of looks up at you, then back down at his shoes.

It sounds like Lori’s questioning herself more than anyone. “How the hell did this happen?”

“Well, it’s my fault. I let him into the RV,” Dale explains. (Except, that doesn’t make him at fault.) Here’s the kicker that he reveals, however: “He said that he wanted a walkie, that you sent him for one.”

Your mouth drops. Stealing the gun was out of character enough, but he also lied? That is not like him. At all.

Seeing your appall, Carl bows his head even more.

Poor Lori by taken by such surprise that her childhood accent begins to slip out. “So on top of everything else, he lied?” she chastises, then begins discussing something with Rick, the words too soft to make out.

Whatever they are, your brother must hear. “He wants to learn how to shoot. He asked both me and Y/N to teach him,” he says. “Now, it’s none of my business, but I’m happy to do it. It’s your call.”

“I’m not comfortable with it,” Lori is quick to answer, but her face falls into incredulity when she looks at her husband. “Oh, don’t make me out to be the unreasonable one here. Rick?”

“I know. I have my concerns, too, but—”

“—There’s no ‘but,’ he was just shot!”

Hearing her say this brings to the surface every painful detail of that awful, awful day.

Immediately and unexpectedly, you release a sob. You have to quickly stand and take a few steps away, holding your breath, trying to compose yourself and not make a scene. Shane’s familiar footfall sounds behind you, and you feel him peck a kiss on your head.

The next part of the discussion that draws your attention is your name after Rick mentions something about safe gun handling.

“Y/N, you were doing safety drills with Beth and him just the other day, is that right?”

“Ricky, leave me alone,” you huff. Carl gets up and wraps his arms around you. You hug him back and wonder how scared or responsible for others’ safety he must feel that he’d steal his mother’s firearm.

Lori is resolute. “I don’t want my kid walking around with a gun.”

“But how can you defend that?” Rick counters. “You can’t let him go around without protection.”

“He’s as safe as he’ll ever be right here,” she pleads. She did not need this today, any of this. “Look, everything you’re saying makes perfect sense. It feels wrong,” is the last thing you hear. You become consumed with second thoughts, worries, guilt over the barn. If any of them found out now…

“Do you think I can say something?” Carl whispers, still with an arm around you. “I wanna speak for myself.”

You nod and pat him on the back. “Start with somethin’ to comfort your mother.”

Rick is in the middle of telling Lori, “He’s growing up, thank God. We’ve got to start treating him more like an adult.”

“Then he needs to act like one!” The reprimand stings and you’re not even the recipient. “He’s not mature enough to handle a gun.”

Carl must’ve seen a chance, because he chooses now to speak up. “I’m not gonna play with it, Mom. It’s not a toy.” He walks toward the ring of adults as calm as could be. “I’m sorry I disappointed you. But I wanna look for Sophia and I want to defend our camp. I can’t do that without a gun.”

If you loved that kid any more, you’d explode. Just look at Lori's face, it's plain as day she's thinking the same.

“Shane’s the best instructor I know.” What a compliment from Rick. “I’ve seen him teach kids younger than Carl. Y/N was only eight.”

“I told ya someone would dredge that up,” you say under your breath. Shane raises an eyebrow at you, not being so bold as to smirk.

Carl turns and grins, however. “Guess I owe you a dollar.”

Lori appears to relent, coming to an agreement with Rick. She looks at her son and cups his chin the way she’s done for as long as you can remember.

“You will take this seriously and you will behave responsibly. And if I hear from anyone in this camp that you are not livin’ up to our expectations—”

“—He won’t let you down,” his father promises.

Lori kisses her boy on his head, kisses Rick’s cheek. She then looks at her stomach, looks at you, but averts her eyes so quickly away from yours that it gives you a pause. Something about it hits as eerily familiar, like the night at the CDC.

Red flag.

Not three minutes later when you’re finally finishing your turn on dish duty, she picks up the empty rinse pail. “Are you and Glenn still going to the pharmacy today?”

“Yes. We’re takin’ the horses. Teddy isn’t coming anymore but it will be us two and Maggie.”

“Good. I, um,” she trails off. Again, she won’t quite look at you.

What’s wrong? Did you offend her earlier? “Lore, what’s up?”

“Oh, I’m, I’m just preoccupied. It’ll be interesting to see what target practice is like,” she brushes it off.

“Everything okay with,” and you flit your gaze to her belly.

“Well, there's so bleeding or pain," she answers in a very soft voice. "And I still can’t stand the smell of meat or eggs, so..."

The best you can come up with is about as helpful as a screen door on a submarine: “Thank God we have all these peaches.”

“I cannot tell you how many I’ve eaten,” she begins to chat, seeming grateful for an excuse to change the subject. If only her smile was reaching her eyes. “Half of my body weight is probably peaches at this point.”

“Same,” you snort.

The conversation ends.

You’re left with the disquieting notion that there’s a big red flag you’ve missed.

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

Noon

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

Mr. Greene calls your name when you have just dismounted Nelly so you can lead her to the mailbox where you’re meeting Maggie and Glenn. Maggie’s going to adjust the straps on all three saddles before you three set out. You turn to Mr. Greene, happy as a clam that you’ve gotten the hang of riding Nelly and that Carl is safe with both mom and dad at target practice. After this morning’s drama, the rest of the day will seem a breeze!

You look at him.

Hershel’s gaze is too intent and direct.

Your stomach twists.

It’s so direct that a strange sense of dread and defeat presses down on you before he’s said a word.

“I am aware that you and he know.”

This stops you dead in your tracks.

No.

No, he can’t know.

The way he’s peering at you suggests that he can see straight into your mind. “To clarify, I am aware that you and your friend know about whom we are safeguarding in the barn.”

Your breathing turns shallow and quick. “But we ain’t told nobody!” slips out before you can speak with proper grammar and less twang. “W-We haven’t told anybody, sir,” isn’t much of an improvement.

If the old man had pulled a gun on you, you’d be less terrified than you are now.

He’s going to kick you all out and it’s all your fault. It’s your fault, you should’ve — if you’d — how stupid could you have been to — oh, fuck!

Lori’s voice, her words that helped get you through the panic come back to you, “Try this with me, honey.” Slowly in through the nose, out through the mouth. Yet, with this panic comes a curious style of anger that you’re almost tempted to call righteous.

“Sir, we respected your daughter’s wishes and told no one. We, we went ag-gag-” you pause, slow down, regain control over your speech. “We went against what we’ve learned. We kept quiet, and that’s, that’s with an injured man and a child among us. Sir, we are riskin’ their safety,” you very nearly lose your cool when saying.

Breathe. Take the kettle off the burner.

“If you’re of mind to, to kick us off your land for simply,” you swallow, “knowing what’s in there, I am beggin’ you, please, reconsider. Please.” You are unable to look him in the eyes for more than a second.

Unreadable. He’s unreadable.

Why isn’t he responding, at least, so you can know what the verdict is? Swing the gavel, already!

Not knowing what to do, you keep blabbing against the disquieting notion within you that you may be digging a deeper hole. “You ain’t the — I mean, you are not — the sort of man to punish the whole for an honest mistake of the few. You, you, y-you are the sort of man who,” you take a deep breath with palms open in supplication, “Rick and I was two blood-soaked strangers. Carl was a child with a shotgun wound.” How weak your voice sounds, as if already beaten. “You let us in through your doors and saved his life. That’s the kind of person you are.”

He finally answers. “So, you are aware of my reservations regarding your group.”

“We all are.”

“Again, I am inclined to appreciate your plainspokenness.”

A weak giggle.“I would say it’s more I can’t shut my mouth at times.”

Did he just find that amusing? “And yet, you have not spoken of what you know about the sick men and women.”

‘Sick men and women.’ Would it be a lapse of you to not address how wrong he is? If he’s already set to kick everyone out, maybe this is the last chance you have to change his mind.

It must’ve been written on your face because he calls it out. “And you appear to disagree with my referring to them as such.”

“Folk have to die to turn. Their souls have moved on.”

“There should be no indication of memory, in that case. I have witnessed it.”

You stand straighter. “The virus hijacks the deceased’s nervous system,” you say without a hint of a stutter. Maybe this will save you all, your speaking up at this very moment. Shane told you to trust your instincts, and they’re screaming at you to speak up.

“That is your opinion, then?” he asks, but not dismissively. He sounds genuinely curious.

“It is not my opinion, it’s a fact we learned right from the scientist at the CDC,” you risk stating. You're breathing too fast now. It’s making your fingers numb like they did before the panic attack, and your cheeks are so heated you’re beginning to sweat. “My opinion is that letting them walk is akin to desecration of a corpse, a-and I believe those people deserve a burial.”

Okay, it’s done, you’ve said your piece.

And regret it immediately.

Oh, Y/N, you stupid, stupid idiot.

You are not courageous enough to meet his eyes yet because you can tangibly feel his stare.

“Then I must ask you…” Oh, no, you stupid, stupid idiot, Y/N. “…How you could allow such a thing to continue, if you indeed feel so strongly?”

Nelly appears to become agitated.

Your bottom lip begins to wobble. “Sir, w-we need someplace safe.” This conversation is not only defeating, it’s humiliating. “We are completely at your mercy, Mr. Greene, you know this.”

“So at my mercy that you’d allow ‘corpses’ to be ‘desecrated.’”

That word must have really struck a nerve. You stupid, stupid, idiot.

“Th-they’re contained,” you attempt. If he leaves before you can smooth things, it’s on you if your people are kicked out. On. You. And when someone is killed because the lot of you got kicked out, it will be entirely on you, their blood on your hands. The hand you used to stanch the flow from Amy’s neck begins to feel covered in it once more. “They can’t hurt nobody in there, so that’s, um—y-you’re givin’ them dignity and reverence in that way. That’s not immoral.”

The description, you hope will offset the clear sting that the word ‘desecration’ had on him.

It wasn’t all a lie on your part, either. He is clearly trying to give those walkers dignity. He just doesn’t understand that they’re dead and not coming back.

“Y/N, thank you for your candor but please do not feel the need to hold my hand. There are far more troubling outlooks than yours,” he calmly intones. “I surmise that you are not aware that the older gentleman in your group now knows.”

Excuse you? “You mean Mr. Horvath knows?” You stare at your clean, non-bloodied hand to prove that it's not soaked.

“He described having taken a walk near the barn, hearing the sick inside. He was the picture of respect. However…”

You’re starting to feel unstable on your feet. What’s the catch?

“When I discussed this with my family, Maggie was inclined to believe that your friend had told him. This, of course, led to my being made known that the two of you had also made the discovery.”

You lift your eyes through the fear to meet his, one hand on the fence post for stability. “Sir. Are we to leave right quick?”

“No.”

“When should we be ready, sir,” you don’t even bother to make sound like a question. You wipe your hand on your shirt but the feeling of it being sticky with blood remains. “I-I only wish to be prepared.” You stupid, stupid idiot.

“I’ve not made any decision yet on the matter.” He hasn’t made — what? “Young Carl requires more time to recuperate and there’s the sad fact of the young girl being not yet found.”

You grip the fencepost. The group isn’t kicked out?

Mr. Greene continues, unaware that your relief is so intense that you just might float away. “Daryl is not quite on his feet yet, either, and seeing as he is one of the stronger members of your group, it wouldn’t be charitable to — are you well?”

You’re leaned against the post with your eyes closed because you started to see sparkles. Mr. Greene repeats his question.

“Mmhm,” you breathe. “Sir, are you sure you’re not drivin’ us off now?”

There are a few moments where he doesn’t respond. When he does, it’s in a low, soft tone. “You were under the impression I sought you out in anger, to order your group off my land?”

You aren’t thinking straight. Admitting, “If you’d held a gun to my head, I’d have been less scared out my wits,” is completely unintentional.

“Y/N, I,” you hear him sigh. “I am sorry that the prospect is so thoroughly frightening. To answer you clearly: no. I have not made any hard decisions as of yet. For the time being, your people are still recovering and getting settled.”

Rather than the sheer gratitude you intend to convey, you manage one, breathless, solitary: “O-Okay.”

“Oh, child…” He takes something out of his shirt pocket and offers it to you. A handkerchief.

You accept it and use it to blot your eyes dry and wipe your nose.

“It was not my intention to cause so much anxiety. I merely wished to convey my thanks, and to gain assurance that you would continue to maintain discretion. Please accept my thanks,” he softly drawls, careful in his wording. “For the respect and understanding that you and your friend are showing to the sick individuals under my care.”

‘The sick individuals.’ If only they were. He is so convinced that they’re merely sick, that you feel pain for him.

“They are of no threat to your people,” he then assures you. “They are well-contained. My own family would be in danger if they were not, so please, take solace that they are secure. The only way they would get out is if someone took the effort and time to let them out.”

“Okay.” If there’s an elegant way to save the conversation, it’s lost on you.

You do finally look him in the eye for longer than glance. He’s squinting in a way similar to how Rick does. Particularly, he appears concerned.

“Are you feeling well enough to accompany Margaret and the boy to the drugstore?”

You sniff and shuffle your feet. “Yes, sir.”

“You two are experienced in such outings, I’ve gathered.”

“Glenn and I have gone on many. We’re a good team.”

“I think they’re waiting for you by the gate,” he says with a nod toward their direction. “God protect you. And — Y/N? When you’re out there, trust Nelly’s instincts.”

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

35 minutes later

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

La-ti-da, the rest of the day will be a breeze compared to this morning’s drama, well, what a clueless little dewdrop you were.

The talk with Hershel notwithstanding, Glenn decided to be the biggest, most embarrassing nerd in the entire world and make the trip the worst, most awkward trip in the world!

Okay, might could be you’re exaggerating.

But he did say to Maggie seemingly out of the blue, “You didn’t have to come. You could hate me from a distance,” to only follow it up with “Please say something.” Like, was the man serious?

Maggie, so far, hasn’t uttered a peep in reply.

You as well are leaning toward saying silent. All you’d said was your short piece when the three of you first set off, explaining what Mr. Greene was talking to you about and that you were taking the rear, thank-you-very-much. The stress and panic from earlier mutated into getting m-a-d.

Although, there was also the brief incident where you, maybe due to being overtired or still out-of-it from speaking with Hershel, started absently giggling over the line from Friends, ‘They don’t know that we know that they know!”

Maggie smiled vaguely when you explained.

From your spot in back it’s really not so uncomfortable and awkward a trip. Every so often, you look behind you and to either side. So far, it’s been all-clear every time. It’s a treat, really.

More houses, spaced far apart, begin to come into view. Soon there are street signs and overgrown sidewalks.

So far, things have been very uncomfortable but entirely undramatic and uneventf—

“Whoa, Nelly belly, you okay?”

Her ears have gone back and she’s resisting going further.

“What’s up? Is there something scary, sugar?” you softly worry aloud. “Margaret, Glenn?” you call.

Maggie looks back to see the horse reacting to whatever is spooking her. Her eyes narrow and she looks all around.

“I know she’s ‘nervous’ but,” you lose your train of thought. “I’ll get off and lead her, Maggie?” you then ask more than decide, but dismount all the same. Don’t want to get reared off like Daryl.

Glenn sits up straight, alert and scanning the area. “Do you think she sees one?”

“I ain’t too sure.” Mr. Greene’s warning to ‘Trust Nelly’s instincts,’ pops into your head. “Maybe she smells one.” Like you'd been taught, you reach up to stroke her t-spot and help soothe her. She mainly pulls her head away from the attempt.

“Try a treat, too,” Maggie suggests. “Eating comforts them into feeling safer.”

You take the butter knife and one of the peaches (don’t worry about running out, you packed 7 peaches) from your bookbag and slice it in half to remove the pit. “I’ll lead her on foot,” you decide.

Maggie seems wary. “We’re almost there.”

She and Glenn go on. Nelly permits you to lead her, so you feel better.

Her instincts are saying it’s okay to go now.

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

5 minutes later

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

Maggie had described it as empty. Empty it sure is. It’s nice to see a commercial area that doesn’t have much broken glass or trash.

It does get to you sometimes; when you and Shane went to scrounge for what you could back when the lootings had died down, neither of you smashed things. Why did people smash things? Break stuff, trash stuff, steal stuff? The riots were such bullsh — you’re being uncharitable again. Right and wrong aside, people were panicked and going mad. Not that it’s a good reason, but still, few are immune to mass hysteria. When people are scared or angry, it’s contagious and folk aren’t in their right minds.

Besides, walkers were responsible for some of the smashed glass, namely full-length windows. They ran fast in the onset and getting cut on glass doesn’t bother them.

Anyway, yeah, this area didn’t have much of that, it seems. Granted, you’re at the edge of the ‘downtown,’ but the street looks great, to be honest. A lot of windows in the small buildings are intact.

In a sudden rush of excitement, you call, “Sophia! It’s Y/N and Glenn! Are you here, baby?”

No answer.

“Sophia!”

No answer.

You shake your head and walk faster, Nelly matching your pace.

Looks like the drugstore is ahead to the left. The inside appears pretty bare-bones from what you can tell from the outside.

Now is when Glenn attempts to talk more. “Maggie, I—”

“—I asked for your trust and you betrayed it. Now my dad’s pissed at me.” Maggie immediately claps back. “Your turn.”

“So your dad thinks they’re sick?”

“You know they all do,” you murmur to yourself. God, help them see, you pray simply.

“You agree with that, even after what you saw at the well?” he puts to her, and good on him. She and her dad could use some cold, hard truth. If only her father had seen the walker at the well.

“I’m not sure what I saw at the well,” Maggie answers uncomfortably. She dismounts and moves to hitch her horse to one of the beams in front of the pharmacy.

Glenn looks at you for support before challenging her, “Yes, you are.”

“Maggie, we saw it together,” you agree softly. “Split in half, still biting.”

“And there’s no way a person, sick or not, could survive that!” Glenn exclaims. “Look, if you saw Atlanta, you would not have a barn full of walkers!”

“I wish you would stop callin’ them that!” Maggie yells.

Glenn softens. “What do you call them?”

“Mom. Shawn,” she goes on, tying her horse’s lead with such ease that she hardly needs to look. “Mr. and Mrs. Fischer. Lacey. Duncan.”

It hadn’t really made sense to you until now that, for the Greenes, they are (were?) operating with a confidence that a cure was possible, that their loved ones were only sick. To learn after all these months, after hoping and putting in all that work to keep them ‘safe’, to learn that they have been dead and cannot come back is somehow less bearable to imagine going through.

“I’ll hitch the horses. I’m still worried about Nelly, so I’m gonna stay out here awhile,” you mumble to Glenn, then pull out the updated list you’d made and hand it to him. “I made three more copies. It’s got some updates from the last one.”

“I’ll help you with the reins,” Maggie answers for him, and takes over tying the horse’s lead for him.

Glenn stares at the ground, says “I have my own list,” and goes inside by himself.

That doesn’t irritate at all…

Maggie doesn’t speak until all three horses are securely tied to the poles. “Maybe it should’ve been just you and me today.”

“Glenn’s smart and fast. It’s better to have him here.”

“So smart he can’t keep his mouth shut.”

You have to admit, you groaned in solidarity at her comment. “He’s saved lives before, for what it’s worth,” you do need to point out.

She looks at you, then stares into space. “I’m so angry at him.”

It’s worth mentioning…“Maybe that’s a little how we feel about the barn, too.”

She places her hands on her hips. “Are you on his side, now?” she accuses.

“Come now, that ain’t fair.”

Nelly pulls back, agitated again.

“Baby, what’s the matter?” you shush to the horse. “Margaret, I’m gonna take a turn around the street.”

Maggie cautiously steps around the building, looking to either side while you do the same in the opposite direction.

“It’s clear over here,” she confirms. “Y/N, I’m gonna go inside, finish getting what we need faster.” Was that a scoff? “Lori sure knows how to ask for things. She should go fetch it all herself next time.”

Nope. You get that Maggie’s pissed, but you’re not even entertaining that bullshit attitude about Lori, especially not today. Where’d that even come from? The woman has literally done nothing to her. “Not everything on the list is needed," you offer, "but she makes them thorough because it’s with everyone’s input and needs in mind. Don’t go trashin’ her.”

At this, Margaret storms into the drugstore, leaving you outside, alone.

Good riddance, you were fixing to get huffy. Why can’t people get along and be zen for five minutes, good Moses…

You step quietly and quickly around the street, peeking through the short alleys (if they can even be called that), and making a loop around the pharmacy itself. You swear you hear rattling near the back right corner of the drug store, but Nelly’s loud whinnying mixes with your trying to pinpoint whereabouts it came from.

You call Sophia’s name again, just in case.

However, a raccoon bolting away from the general direction of the sound makes an end of both your worry and your hope. The subsequent thought you get to shoot it for food makes you sigh at the state of things. Moreso the thought that you highly prefer squirrel. But like, squirrel is hecking delicious, so oh my gosh, listen to you.

Having found no reason for Nelly’s unrest, you chalk it up to her being sensitive to the emotions of the humans with her, simple as. Her name is genuinely ‘Nervous Nelly.’

She’s still tugging at her lead, but has quieted enough.

‘Trust Nelly’s instincts’ plays through your mind again. If Mr. Greene thought it important enough to suggest it, it must be. You don’t like that she’s still uneasy.

“Nell, I’m gonna head in so we can get everythin’ and split, okay? Not much longer, won’t be ten minutes.”

You push the doors open and walk into the pharmacy. Glenn’s to the left. “Hey, man. What did you cross off the list so far?” you ask.

“I’ve been distracted. Sorry.”

“Where’s the one you made?” you question with just a hint of an attitude.

“Maggie has it. I wasn’t sure where to find…something on it.”

“Oh, what was it? I’ll go help.”

“I-I, it, she, th—nothing,” he stumbles through before pretending this could work: “I don’t know.”

You lick your teeth. What is with him today? “I’m glad you’re learnin’ to keep secrets,” you let slip in your frustration.

“Great. Now you’ve crawled up my butt, too.” He swipes a lotion off the shelf without looking and goes toward the doors, away from you.

Licking your teeth but holding your tongue, you figure you’ll start at the back of the small store and work your way forward. The prescription drugs are in the back where Maggie already is.

Ooh. The shelves back there look like there’s still a decent amount of stock on them.

“Need any help?” you extend the olive branch.

It’s not subtle the way she turns her head right, glares at Glenn, then answers, “Not for this.”

Whatever the hell that means. Seriously, can people just be zen for five minutes?

You throw your hands in the air. “Fine!” Glancing around the pharmacy section and not really clocking anything because you’re too caught up, you mutter, “There’s gotta be a manual somewhere,” and head left where it looks like there are a few smaller rooms.

There’s a strange scent in here that smells suspiciously like the dead. Must be a rodent that died in the walls?

The door to the first small room looks like it had to be crow-barred open by someone at some point. You step inside to look at the desk.

But the loud whinny from outside gives you a pause.

Trust Nelly’s instincts.

But she’s been acting up for seemingly no reason.

Trust Nelly’s instincts.

The hairs on your arms stand. You turn around, walk back to the middle, and turn your focus to the windows where you can see the horses are still hitched.

“Maggie," you quietly question. "This is normal for her?”

It’s only Nelly who’s rearing and trying to escape. The other horses seem disquieted, but only Nelly is panicked.

Trust Nelly’s instincts.

It’s the clatter of pill bottles falling to the floor that has you forgetting all about the fighting, the disagreements, the worries, and the stress.

Because the sounds of snarling only mere yards away is unmistakable even before Maggie begins to scream.

There’s a walker, reaching through the shelves that has a death grip on her wrist.

You throw yourself hard against the back-to-back storage shelving to keep it from falling on your friend and to push the dead man away from her even slightly.

“Glenn! The shelves, I can’t!” you yelp into the chaos, groaning from the strain of keeping the shelving from toppling over. “It’s got her wrist!”

But in an instant, the shelves abruptly stabilize; you lose balance and tumble hard to the ground. The walker, you twist on hands and knees to see, is rounding the corner and already — no, Margaret! It’s got its hands on her again, it’s gonna —

The few seconds it takes for you, roaring, to whip out your screwdriver and spring up from the floor seem too long, too late. The clumsy angle between it and Maggie at which you attempt to drive your weapon into its skull doesn’t work, and it tumbles from your hand and onto the ground.

The new fastest second of your life — seeing the walker’s mouth lunge for your forearm — seems to also, somehow, drag at a snail’s pace. It’s in that strange, rapid slow-motion that you rip your arm away and kick.

You reach for your pistol in a last ditch effort. The risk of the shot spraying the walker’s contaminated blood in your or her eyes or mouth outweighs the guarantee of its bite.

Ultimately, it's Glenn’s quick action with the metal board that saves you both.

From the countertop, he swings it with all his strength. Though you aren’t aware of having choosen to do so, it seems you’ve pulled Maggie down and back to get her as far from the force of the strike and the trajectory of the walker’s fall.

It collapses.

For a moment, everything turns still.

Maggie is too shocked to cry or say anything. Your arms are wrapped tightly around her even as you still tightly clutch your firearm. You can’t speak, either.

“Did it get you? Did it bite you?” Glenn cries, and you snap back to the present and begin to inspect Maggie’s arms, wrists, and hands while he squeezes her and you to him.

When the walker stands back up, its head hanging by half its neck, you have to cover Maggie’s eyes. She’s seen enough.

Glenn tries to use Daryl’s sickle machete to finish it, but ends up having to try over and over in a fury when it keeps gargling and snarling despite the blows. It’s gruesome.

You shout Glenn’s name and aim your gun at the walker, finishing it when Glenn sees and has moved away far enough to avoid the spray. The blast of the shot reverberates loudly in the closed space.

Finally, finally, all turns quiet and stays quiet. Safety switched on, you rely on muscle memory to tuck your weapon back into its concealed holster.

Glenn is panting. Maggie starts to waver where she stands, sobs coming out as the shock wears off.

You go to her. “It didn’t get you Margaret, look, all clean. J-just a little of its blood on your shirt,” you console, showing her her own wrists and arms that are trembling but blessedly uninjured. You recall the handkerchief in your pocket. “Here. Your daddy lent me this. Use it to wipe your eyes, don’t rub with your hands or arms until we get you cleaned up, o-okay? I-I got wipes, I got wipes and sanitizer. That should suit for now, sweetheart, okay?”

After a few more moments of catching your breath, you decide, “Y’all need something to drink and eat, I’ll, I’ll go get the backpack.” It’ll give Glenn and Maggie time to embrace in private. All is forgiven, you’re quite sure.

Picking up your screwdriver, you walk outside in a post-adrenaline daze. Typical for you, the post-adrenaline nausea is hitting, too. Some tears, as well. You note upon stepping into the fresh air that Nelly is calmer.

Much calmer.

Last you knew, she’d been trying to break free and escape. Right before the walker attacked, in fact…

‘Trust Nelly’s instincts.’

You wonder. If her whinnying hadn’t prompted you to take a few steps back toward Maggie’s direction, would you have had those precious extra seconds of time? Your slamming against the shelves when you did pushed the walker back enough to unsteady it, which bought Maggie the chance to free her wrist from its grasp. It gave Glenn more time to grab that piece off the metal shelving and leap up on the counter to strike it. If you hadn’t turned around because of the horse…

“Trust Nelly’s instincts,” Mr. Greene had instructed.

“Thank you, girl,” you whisper to the horse, with shaking hands blindly opening the bookbag. “I th-think you just saved some lives, Nell.”

Not only this, but the whole awful encounter showed Maggie firsthand that the walkers aren’t sick people. They’re dead. It’s the virus that makes their bodies move and walk and bite.

This terrifying day may just be your people’s saving grace.

Because if Maggie understands, her father will be more willing. And if her father understands, the walkers will be laid to rest. No more danger. No more disagreement.

You’ll still need to leave with Shane, but there’s a better chance that the group will be safe at the farm.

You praise “Thank you!” to the heavens, then boldly press a smooch to the spot above Nelly’s nose. She briefly allows you to rest your forehead there. “And thank you for your instincts.”

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

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

-> Masterlist link here <-

and our tiny taglist :D

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(inbox is open if you would like on or off the taglist, slowpokes! Please don’t feel bad or nervous if you don’t want to be tagged anymore, just let me know in the inbox. We’re all friends here and your comfort level matters)  

[reallypleasanttree]

NSFW Obamitsu snippet where they’re lovers in canon from my Obamitsu graveyard.

“Do you want me to leave?” Obanai asked, his lips pressed near her ear. 

“Not yet,” Mitsuri whispered. She brought his hand down. His palm pushed on her clit as his fingers ran over her outer folds. She moaned lightly. He rolled his hips and she felt his cock hardening. Just one more time. With every roll she pushed back into him. His mouth sucked on her earlobe.

“Sweet girl,” Obanai whispered. Her whole body trembled at his raspy voice. She turned her head and captured his lips. 

She was desperate to keep him here. At least she knew he was safe. If only she could keep him here. It was selfish. They were Hashira with a duty to the Corps. He would come back after the mission and they could return to this intimacy. Whenever that was. 

Obanai cupped her face as they kissed. She rotated her body to face him and hooked her leg over his hip. He rocked against her and every time his cock rubbed against her clit, it shot electricity up her spine. His hand trailed down her sides until it reached her hip. He grabbed it, squeezing roughly and forcing her to move in time with him. Mitsuri moaned into the kiss, savoring the sensations licking under her skin. 

“You like that, don’t you?” Obanai asked, breathily. He already knew the answer, but she nodded. “You like it when I take control and fulfill your every desire,” he continued. Again, she nodded. 

Obanai was not a selfish lover and made sure to keep her satisfied. His hand lowered to cup her bottom, squeezing. His mouth found her neck, kissing the length of her throat. They had been together enough times, he knew her most sensitive spots. Her body warmed as she wrapped an arm across his back. She extended her neck, allowing him more access and her breasts pressed against his chest. He smirked into the junction of her neck and shoulder. 

“How am I supposed to leave you like this? Needy girl,” he teased and sucked on her skin. He was going to leave marks if he continued. The lovemarks would be a physical reminder of his presence. Memories of their time together. How could she ever forget him though? 

Water formed at the corners of her eyes. Her heart threatened to splinter, fractured by the knowledge she could never tell him of her love. Not the way she desired to at least. His lips traveled down to her chest, kissing the top of her breasts. Every inch of her skin lit under his touch. 

“Have you nothing to say, Suri?” He asked, lifting his head. 

“Make it back alive,” she said, her voice nearly cracked. She looked down to meet his gaze. Gold and teal eyes gauging her emotions. His mouth partially opened as he tried to formulate a response. No one in the Demon Slayer Corps could promise their life, even in the throes of passion. 

“I can’t promise that,” Obanai admitted. His hand touched her face, brushing away a stray tear with his thumb. Of course. He had never been one to lie. It was another reason she loved him. 

“Then promise you’ll try your best,” Mitsuri tried to keep her voice from crumbling.

“I’ll do my best,” Obanai whispered before capturing her lips. 

That was the most she could ask for. 

[baldwin2001]

IMPORTANT TO MENTION. SORRY, BUT ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. I'M STILL LEARNING.

I already posted the One shot in Spanish, now it's in English.

The queen of his heart.

ENGLISH

"In the distance you can see the castle, gentlemen," the red-haired woman communicated loudly to her soldiers behind her. Just in time.

Surieth Sahar. Mother of the kingdom of Aktakistan. Despite being so recently after the death of his father, four years, his people and his knights feel immense respect for her. In such a short time she achieved public and economic policies that greatly favored her people.

Now she was about to reach Jerusalem, far to the south of her kingdom. But he was only doing it for one purpose, his late mother was originally from the holy land, she had promised him to maintain a good relationship with the Christians despite being of different religions. Currently he was in a delicate situation, Saladin's army had taken over much of the eastern lands, managing to expel the Crusaders from there, so he was going with his best warriors to recover the lost lands and can not advance towards the capital.

"Suri..." exclaimed Sibylla with a smile when he saw her enter the palace with his most important knights. "Well, rather. Surieth Shahar, mother of the kingdom of Aktakistan."

The redhead could not help but let out a little laugh, scaring her warriors, since hearing her laughter was something unusual. Since the death of her parents, her spirits had fallen to the ground, and the only people she was a little more affable with were the children of the village.

"Leave aside the formalities, and come here." said Suri, extending his arms and making a little movement with his fingers.

Even though making such demonstrations was against the manners she had been taught, Sibila was going to make an exception for her best friend.

"You don't know how much I've missed you." she murmured into Surieth's arms.

"I've missed you too, Sibylla" she replied with a small smile.

"Everyone in the palace has, even Bald..." she was interrupted by her friend.

"Where is your little son? The last time I saw him, he was a little above my waist." she asked ignoring her comment. Surely he's all grown up now.

"Yes, he's grown up a lot since the last time you were here" he smiled at her comment, took her hand and pulled her a little towards the palace. "But come, he's waiting for you in the garden, he even prepared a whole banquet just for you.*

"Oh, it wasn't necessary."

" Suri, don't be modest. I know you're not here for a visit, but you deserve it after all the trip you made to get here." This time he took both her hands as he brought them to his chest, giving her a smile making her fall for his charms.

"It's okay, Sibylla."

That only made the red-haired girl's smile grow bigger, she and her son had missed her terribly. And even though she didn't want to say it, her brother had missed her too.

Throughout the banquet the laughter was heard all over the garden, Baldwin V had grown into a very handsome boy, and now he surpassed her in height. And the first moment she saw him she almost did not recognize him, but he had not forgotten her, and she did not hesitate to give him a big hug. While in the distance Sibyl watched them with a melancholic smile. Since he was a child, he managed to establish a nice friendship with the redhead and he was glad that despite the years, it was still there.

The only thing that caused great discomfort during the meal was to feel the intense blue eyes of King Baldwin IV on her, but he was not alone, but at his side was his wife, it was a little strange, since he usually ate alone in his room, but to tell the truth he had not managed to hold the desire to see her after so many years, he missed her. And why not, if they were once lovers, but they ended when she found out that he had to marry a Christian, and could never be next to a paid one like her, or at least not let him marry her, or at least they wouldn't let him

Now, several years later, they meet again, she without any kind of love relationship, focusing on ruling her kingdom in the north, while Baldwin had been married for almost five years to a young woman of high society named Salome, daughter of a duke of the west. However, despite having been together for so long, they never got along well, he tries to have a good relationship with her, but because of her shocking character, it is impossible for him.

They had no children yet, and Baldwin did not want to have them with her, but he had an obligation to give an heir to his people, and he has felt pressured, since they have not managed to conceive one.

They were both in the royal library talking about the war tactics they would perform during their confrontation with Saladin, with dozens of maps and books scattered around the large table, while Surieth did not stop talking about the strategy she would do with her knights, Baldwin did not stop staring at her, she was still as beautiful as the last time he saw her, only without the tears that fell down her eyes after having broken her heart, and having told her that they could no longer be together.

"I miss you."

But she ignored him, she felt bad but it was for the best.

" Suri..." the affectionate way she called him, broke.

"Your majesty," she said bluntly, and without taking his eyes off him." I must inform you that the future war with Sultan Saladin is more important than something that is already in the past."

"For me there is still a chance, Suri," he said, sure of his words.

"Well, not for me," she said coldly.

She didn't support him anymore, she was ready to leave, anywhere but far away from him, but he stopped her by taking her arm and getting dangerously close to her.

"Kiss me," he challenged her without looking her in the eyes, "Or wouldn't you kiss a leper?"

"No," she exclaimed, giving him a furious look, "I wouldn't kiss a married man.... It's against my morals."

"You're right," she gave a little giggle of naivety, "it was daring of me."

" Please..." she was about to call him by his name, "Baldwin" but she regretted it "your majesty. Don't make this even worse, I didn't come for you, but to fulfill my mother's last will, despite marrying a man of a different culture who took her far from here, she never stopped having Jerusalem in her heart."

" I understand..." he lowered his eyes, not having the courage to look at her "I lost her heart a long time ago."

"It was at that moment... when you told me that you couldn't be with me because you was thinking of marrying another woman, it was then" she didn't look at him with anger, but with melancholy. "But that doesn't matter... Let's continue with the strategy"

He did not say anything, at least not on that subject. He was a fool, what he felt and lived with Surieth, do not compare with anything, not even with the five years he has spent with Salome, that more than a marriage, for him has been nothing but a hell.

[janecuppa]

Hi, honey! Hope you are doing fine. I really like your content and insights, especially how critical but also on point your writing is.

So, about the photos, they seem to be the material of a hired paparazzi for a couple of reasons: the shots seem to be from a single photographer due to the distance, angles, lens and camera adjustment - also, the person is really close to them. Plus, the exposure time of the targets: this type of content sells like water in the desert and the paparazzi being the most persistent and annoying people in the planet, want to make the most of it because they know how much can originate from a single photo. Since the couple hadn't made public appearances of any kind for some time, and when they announced the pregnancy the due date appeared to be close, I imagined that the press would love to profit from the family first photos, I expected more photographers to accompany this two recently. Suri Cruise and Addison Rae have more pap stalk than them, like???

Regarding the articles that came out, I haven't read any so far but I saw people on Tumblr and Instagram talking about some inconsistencies and duplicate articles (material published by various sources) and at the same time, if this happened, it probably means that someone in their team shared a release or a note about their appearance - and that it was staged.

I know that because I'm one of these people who writes and discloses this type of content, we also offer interviews and secret sources (PR especialist).

That's just how the business works, we do this stuff all the time.

Thank you very much for reaching out and sharing!

Also, would someone be able to request what outlet shares what? For instance, people magazine could publish photos, but another could not? I've seen some post the pictures and others not. Wonder if that's the outlets choice or not.

💐💐

[rosesnink]

Meet My MCs

This will be under the cut. Those with NA means that I won't be playing them, and others which books I have played but have no record of the MC's name. Some books have two different OCs who coexist due to romancing a different LI

Idea credit to @aria-ashryver

I will be updating it as I play more books

Across the Void MC- Ellectrum Ellara

Romance: Titania

FC: Katherine McNamara

All of Us: Her Story MC: Irena Collins

Romance- Theresa 'Tess'

FC- Megan Suri

All of Us: His Story MC: Lawrence 'Teddy' Heart

Romance: Brandon 'Brad'

FC- Álvaro Rico

Along Came Treble MC- TBD

Romance- TBD

FC: TBD

Alpha MC- Arianwyn

Romance: F!Channing Lowe

FC: TBD

America's Most Elegible MC- Selene Marquez

Romance: Bianca Sandoval

FC: TBD

A Very Scandalous Proposal MC- Felicia Hunstdown

Romance: Ava Montjoy

FC: TBD

Baby Bump MC- Monsterrat Bruch

Romance: Myra Dixon

FC: TBD

Bachelorette Party MC- Phoebe

Romance: Aisha Bhatt

FC: TBD

Big Sky Country MC- ????

Romance: Juliette

FC: TBD

The Baby's Billionaire MC- Not played

Romance: Not played

FC: NA

Bitten MC- Layla Hernández

Romance- Skyler & Alexandra

FC- TBD

Blades of Light and Shadow MC: Brienne Nagoni (f!orc!mc)

Romance: Nia Ellarious and Tyril Starfury

FC: None

Bloodbound: Cristina

Romance: Kamilah Sayeed

FC: Hunter Schaffer

Crimes of Passion MC- Neera Rose

Romance: f!brown!Trystan Thorne

FC: Melissa Barrera

The Crown and the Flame MC- Kenna Rys and Dominic Hunter

Romance: Annelyse Adair (K) and Rose Blake (D)

FC: Adelaide Kane and Bradley James

A Courtesan of Rome MCs- Aphrodite and Lavinia of the Cautani

Romance: Sabina (A) and Marc Antony (L)

FC- Kerry Condon (A) and Hanna Mangen Lawrence (L)

The Cursed Heart MC- Nymeria

Romance: f!brown!Kieran

FC: TBD

The Deadliest Game MC- Kayla Marquez

Romance: Farah Sabri

FC: TBD

Desire and Decorum MC- Celestine Walker

Romance: Ernest Sinclaire

FC: Vittoria Puccini

Dirty Little Secrets MC- Blair Gray

Romance: f!white!Charlotte King

FC: TBD

Distant Shores MC- Joan Beauchamp

Romance: Charlotte 'Charlie' Smith

FC: Kristen Stewart

The Duchess Affair MC- Wren Bedford

Romance: f!brown!Nat Pippin

FC: Arsema Thomas

The Elementalists MC- Ariadna Williams

Romance: Shreya Mistry and Aster D'Yew

FC: Lily Collins

Endless Summer MC- Taylor

Romance: Quinn Kelly

FC: Madelyn Cline

Filthy Rich MC- TBD

Romance- TBD

FC- TBD

First Comes Love MC- Not played

Romance: TBD

FC: TBD

Foreign Affairs MC- Elisabeth Kennedy

Romance: f!brown! Blaine Hayes (formerly Ayna Seth)

FC: Shay Mitchell

The Freshman/Sophomore/Junior/Senior MC- Vanessa Lewis

Romance: Rebecca Davenport

FC: Margaret Qualley

Getaway Girls MC- Abigail Thompson

Romance: F!White! Jordan Parker

FC: TBD

The Ghost of Us MC- TBD

Romance- TBD

FC- TBD

Guarded MC: NA

Romance: NA

FC: NA

Guinevere MC- Guinevere of Carmelide

Romance: f!white! Artura Pendragon

FC: Beste Kokdemir

The Haunting of Braidwood Manor MC- NA

Romance: Eleanor Waverly

FC: TBD

Hearts on Fire MC- TBD

Romance- TBD

FC- TBD

The Heist: Monaco MC- Elle Jackson

Romance: Sonia Alves

FC: Abelle Sinclair

Hero MC- ?????

Romance: Eva/Minuet

FC: TBD

High School Story Prime- Gala Moschen

Romance: Julian Castillo

FC: Linda Cardellini

High School Story MC- Elisa Connor

Romance: Emma Hawkins

FC: Talia Ryder

High School Story: Class Act MC- Halley Buchaneer

Romance: Skye Crandall

FC: Hanna van der Westhuysen

Home for the Holidays MC: Not played

Romance: TBD

FC: TBD

Hot Couture MC- Therese Ward

Romance: Hazel Ngyuen

FC: TBD

Hot Shot MC: Mina Tremaine

Romance: f!black!Casey Jameson

FC: TBD

Immortal Desires MC- Penelope 'Penny' Winthrope

Romance: Cassie Harlow and Gabriela Adalhard

FC: Anya Taylor Joy

Knock Knock MC- TBD

Romance- TBD

FC- TBD

It Lives Anthology

It Lives in the Woods MC- Tallulah Dawkins & Yun Faye

Romance: Stacy Green (T) and Lucas Thomas (F)

FC: Sophie Thatcher (T) and Havana Rose Liu (F)

It Lives Beneath MC- Rose Vance

Romance: Danni Asturias

FC: Emily Rudd

It Lives Within MC- Corvina Blackwood

Romance: Amalia de León

FC: Nicola Coughlan

Kindred MC- Amaryllis Woodstock

Romance: Marion and Fang Ziyi (aka Rainier and Kaine)

FC: Suki Waterhouse

Kiss of Death MC- Lana Roschelle

Romance: Victoria Flint, Faith Skelly (ex-girlfriend)

FC: TBD

Laws of Attraction MC- Ruth Ocasio

Romance: Lina Reyes

FC: TBD

LoveHacks MC- NA

Romance: TBD

FC: TBD

Make That Date! MC- NA

Romance- NA

FC- NA

Most Wanted MCs- Samantha Massey and Dave Reyes

Romance: Each other

FC: TBD

Mother of the Year MC- Alicia Day

Romance: Eiko Matsunaga

FC: Sofía Vergara

Ms. Match MC- Not played

Romance: TBD

FC: TBD

Murder at Homecoming MC- Valentine Aileen Stone

Romance: Stevie Sun

FC: TBD

My Two First Loves MC- Sandra González

Romance: Ava

FC: TBD

The Nanny Affair MC- Will never play, ew

Romance: Double ew

FC: NA

Nightbound MC- Nathalie

Romance: Vera Reinmonenq

FC: TBD

Open Heart MC- Jordyn Heart

Romance: Aurora Emery

FC: Hayal Koseoglu

Terrorfest MC- Charlie Mendez

Romance- Lucky Alvarez

FC- TBD

Passport to Romance MC- Thalia

Romance: Marisa Pires

FC: TBD

The Phantom Agent MC- Alys Jackson

Romance: F!Indian!Samara Grey

FC: TBD

Platinum MC- Crystal Rosales

Romance: Avery Wilshere

FC: Lucy Boynton

Plus One MC- TBD

Romance- TBD

FC- TBD

The Princess Swap MC- Gabrielle Hastings and Cassandra Julivert

Romance: f!white! Princess Clarke (G) and f!black! Devin Wright (C)

FC: Meagan Rath

Queen B MC- Reina Hughes

Romance: Zoey Wade

FC: TBD

Red Carpet Diaries MC- Kiara Clark

Romance: Victoria Fontaine

FC: Kang Kyung Min

Ride or Die: A Bad Boy Romance MC- Cheryl Addams

Romance: Mona

FC: Bridget Satterlee

Rising Tides MC- Not played

Romance: TBD

FC: TBD

Roommates With Benefit- Nina Berauregard

Romance: F!Drew Young

FC: TBD

Rivals With Benefits MC- TBD

Romance- TBD

FC- TBD

The Royal Masquerade MC- Lady Grace Everhart and Queen Olive Aster

Romance: f!hispanic!Kayden Vescovi and Fabian Rys (husband) (O) and f!white!Hunter Fierro (G)

FC: Freida Pinto (O) Emmanuelle Chriqui (G)

The Royal Romance MC- Eclipsa Ice and Primrose St. Claire

Romance: Lady Hana Lee (E) King Liam Rys (P)

FC: Jessica Alba (E) Ellie Bamber (P)

Rules of Engagement MC- Louise Han

Romance: Prince Leo Rys

FC: Kristin Kreuk

Save the Date MC- Chloe James

Romance: Lindsay

FC: TBD

The Shadow MC- TBD

Romance - TBD

FC- TBD

Ship of Dreams MC- Helene Foredale

Romance: f!white!Theodora Carter

FC: Jessica Brown Findlay

Shipwrecked MC- NA

Romance: TBD

FC: TBD

Slow Burn MC- Not played

Romance: TBD

FC: TBD

Sunkissed MC-NA

Romance: Eliana

FC: NA

Surrender MC- EWWWWWW

Romance: EEEEEEEEEWWWWWWW

FC: No.

The Unexpected Heiress MC- Claire Hayes

Romance: Dowager Duchess Gemma Montjoy

FC: Kate Winslet

Untameable MC- TBD

Romance: TBD

FC: TBD

Unbrindled MC- TBD

Romance: TBD

FC: TBD

Veil of Secrets MC- May Sorel Arrieta

Romance: Kate O'Malley

FC: Dilara Aksuyek

Villainous Valentine MCs- Not available

Romance- NA

FC- NA

Wake the Dead MC- Kerina Fyreheart

Romance: Shannon Fox

FC: Lindsay Morgen

With Every Heartbeat MC- Elsie Clarence

Romance: f!hispanic!Dakota Winchester and Lennox

FC: Madison Beer

Witness: A Bodyguard Romance MC- Ugh

Romance: Uuuuuuuuugh

FC: Uhh pass

Wolf Bride MC- Triple ew

Romance: Quadruple ew

FC: HARD PASS

Years Apart MC- TBD

Romance- TBD

FC- TBD

[lazarusphenomenon]

“Suri says this place has really good portions for the price.” “Siri,” Leo corrects her. "Apple has Siri." “That’s what I said. I had an iPhone back in 2011, we’re like this,” she crosses her fingers without looking up from the phone. He snorts because as always she’s full of shit. “That isn’t even an iPhone, you’re holding my tech. And we aren’t calling the AI interface Suri.” How he was the first person to seriously work on a monster proof phone is honestly beyond him. Even Androids weren’t safe for most demigods past a certain age.

just wanted to finish up this idea for a one shot i had before i get back to editing other stuff. leo and piper run the world.

[proximitytogod]

Miguel Harichi and Koen Prince-Fraser for McQ’s SS16 collection in Wonderland Magazine.

Shot by Paulina Otylie Surys.

[candescentkpop]

My heart is burning up

Checkmate: Drum

Checkmate Part 12 / ?

[poetlcs]

2023 reading tracker

total: 75/52

sff

a sky beyond the storm - sabaa tahir

enclave - claire g. coleman

a criminal magic - lee kelly (dnf)

the shattered city - lisa maxwell

a feast for crows - george r.r martin

the ballad of songbirds and snakes - suzanne collins

chain of iron - cassandra clare

hell bent - leigh bardugo

chain of thorns - cassandra clare

the bronzed beasts - roshani chokshi

the drowning faith - r.f kuang

how high we go in the dark - sequoia nagamatsu

the jasmine throne - tasha suri

the hunger games - suzanne collins

catching fire - suzanne collins

mockingjay - suzanne collins

a far wilder magic - allison saft

translated

the transmigration of bodies - yuri herrera

portrait of an unknown lady - maria gainza

love in the big city - sang young park

my brilliant friend - elena ferrante

frankenstein in baghdad - ahmed saadawi

la bastarda - trifonia melibea obono

bolla - pajtim statovci

contemporary

you are eating an orange. you are naked - sheung-king

seeing other people - diana reid

the henna wars - adiba jaigirdar

you and me on vacation - emily henry

now that i see you - emma batchelor 

delilah green doesn’t care - ashley herring blake

becoming kirrali lewis - jane harrison

style - chelsea m. cameron

yellowface - rf kuang

the summer i turned pretty - jenny han

it’s not summer without you - jenny han

the charm offensive - alison cochrun

love & virtue - diana reid

the divines - ellie eaton

sincerely, carter - whitney g

crushing - genevieve novak

icebreaker - hannah grace

cleopatra & frankenstein - coco mellors

duck a l’orange for breakfast - karina may

happy place - emily henry

wildfire - hannah grace

i am not your perfect mexican daughter - erika l. sanchez

you don’t have a shot - racquel marie

mystery/thriller

final girls - riley sager

nine liars - maureen johnson

the box in the woods - maureen johnson

a good girls guide to murder - holly jackson

good girl, bad blood - holly jackson

queen of the tiles - hanna alkaf

as good as dead - holly jackson

kill joy - holly jackson

five survive - holly jackson

the dry - jane harper

non-fiction

mirror sydney - vanessa berry

in byrons wake: the turbulent lives of lord byron’s wife and daughter, annabella milbanke and ada lovelace - miranda seymour

the lavender scare: the cold war persecution of gays and lesbians in the federal government - david k. johnson

odd girl out: the hidden culture of aggression in girls - rachel simmons

dinosaurs rediscovered - michael j. benton

queer others in victorian gothic - ardel haefele-thomas

alone time: four cities, four seasons and the pleasures of solitude - stephanie rosenbloom

how to break up with fast fashion - lauren bravo

the white album - joan didion

the gene - siddhartha mukherjee

the new hite report: the revolutionary report on female sexuality - shere hite

my body - emily ratajkowski

historical fiction

the mountains sing - nguyen phan que mai

one for the master - dorothy johnson

tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow - gabrielle zevin

the christie affair (dnf) - nina de gramont

classics

things fall apart - chinua achebe

northanger abbey - jane austen

jamaica inn - daphne du maurier 

[reobsessed]

Sickness In His Care

Pairing: Reader X Karl Heisenberg. Content Warning: 18+, Mentions of sex but no actual sex in the story itself, Reader X Karl Heisenberg fic, slight humour. Can't think of any other warnings but please let me know in the comments if I missed anything. Summary: You'd been seeing Karl Heisenberg for a while now and had since started staying in the factory. However, one day you come down with a fever. Expecting him not to care you do your best to avoid him but you find yourself at a loss for words when he tries to take care of you. This is just a short one, inspired by my current illness. Wanted to write about a sick reader being taken care of by Karl =p Hope you enjoy! Might add more one-shots to this series later. Thanks again to Suri for editting and reads!

Your body was racked by coughs and splutters, occasionally drowned out by the sound of heavy machines whirring. You did your best to fall asleep but the oppressive heat of both your fever and the humid factory air wouldn’t allow for that. How Heisenberg worked in this, day in, day out boggled your mind. You had a lot of questions concerning that man.

With no such luck in drifting off, you flung your legs over the side of the makeshift bed and wrapped a blanket around yourself, for modesty’s sake. You made your way to the main elevator and adjusted your underwear while you walked.

Despite their inability to see, you felt intimidated beneath the many dead eyes of the factory. They’d long since had the life and humanity extinguished from them, but much like a porcelain doll, their eyes followed you across the hall.

Unfortunately you weren’t wearing any shoes either. They’d been discarded halfway across a room, (you couldn’t remember which) when he’d accosted you from behind several nights before. He did that sometimes, he’d enter a room irritated, ranting and raving about his ‘life’s work’, Mother Miranda or some other insignificant event. Then as he would throw his coat to the floor he’d come up behind and bury his face in the crook of your neck. It was his silent plea for attention, the only release in his life that didn’t coincide with destructive violence.

Things would get rough sometimes. Tumbling around with shrapnel and a dirty man who never left his basement certainly had its risks; but at the end of it all, nothing ever went outside of your comfort zone. Cruel and ruthless Lord Heisenberg was capable of some decency, if only in that regard.

Memories of the prior night filled you with excitement. You brought your hand to the swollen cluster of love bites mapped across your chest and neck. You’d returned the favour, and left a colourful array dotted across his neck, ensuring they were in full view of any who encountered him. You hoped to God he got called into a family meeting sometime soon. With an impish giggle you clicked the button on the elevator and ascended to the top floor. You hoped he was anywhere but his office, but unfortunately your luck had run out around the same time you’d met him.

As soon as you opened the door you were greeted by his side profile, head in hands, slumped over a diagram on the table. Probably sulking again.

“The fuck are you doing in here? I thought I told you not to bother me while I’m working.” He let out a puff of cigar smoke. Didn’t even have the decency to look at you. Dick.

As per your usual pettiness you ignored him and made a beeline for the door at the back of the room. Suddenly you toppled backwards as a thin chain of metal wrapped itself around your wrist, not intended to hurt you but to stop you from going any further. However, he’d miscalculated and hadn’t noticed your sickly state until after you’d begun to tumble backwards. As you fell to the ground, he steadied you with more offcuts of metal.

“The hell is wrong with you?” he raised his voice, a combination of tiredness and confusion. 

Metal clattered to the floor as he stood up. With a rough grip, he pulled you upright and turned you to face him. He studied you intently, glasses slipping down past his nose. You stared into his eyes, watching as anger dissipated into uncharacteristic worry.

Heisenberg was never good at concealing his emotions, especially not his anger and now this too, apparently.

“I just wanted some fresh air,” you croaked.

Cigar smoke choked your already irritated throat and you began another coughing fit, you tried your best to turn away but his burly arms held you in place. You were shocked that he didn’t seem to mind when you spluttered all over his stained work shirt but then again, you’d covered him in worse things.

“Forgot humans get sick, haven’t been sick in over forty years.”

“Certainly starting to get sick of you.” 

You couldn’t see his eyes behind the blackened glasses, but you knew he was rolling them.

“What the hell am I supposed to do?” He grabbed your arm and shook it. “What do you do when one of these gets sick?”

“Well, I was hoping to avoid you turning me into one of your new toys, but I guess that’s up in the air now,” you sniffed, swallowing a large glob of phlegm stuck at the back of your throat.

“That’s fucking disgusting,” he sneered at you, now holding you away from him at arm’s length.

“I can’t help it,” you spat, attempting to pull yourself free. “And besides, have you smelt yourself recently?”

“Wait a minute, I have something for this!” His grip slipped from your wrist and fell into your hand. You let out a nasalled grunt as he dragged you across the room to his desk. After rummaging around with one hand he pulled out a dusted bottle from the bottom drawer. “This should do the trick.”

Your nose wrinkled when you looked at the awaiting bottle. It was covered in a thick layer of grime and much of the writing had worn off the label a long time ago, based on the few remaining letters you assumed this used to be some kind of ‘medicine’. You turned it over to see the date ‘1923’ printed along the bottom.

“Yep. I’ll be better in no time with this.” You swivelled the bottle, watching as black ooze splashed against the sides. He had a triumphant grin on his face and you couldn’t bring yourself to ridicule him further. “Right, well I’m going outside.”

“Dressed like that?”

“What are you, my dad?”

He pulled the blanket around your shoulders and touched a gloved hand to your forehead.

“You’re cold.”

Stifling yet another cough, you laughed softly. 

“How can you tell? You’re wearing gloves, you buffoon.”

He wrapped you in an embrace, only when held in the stillness of his arms did you realise that you’d been shivering this entire time. Had your fever turned to chills? With his arms still around you he pulled you over to his chair and sat you in his lap, presumably so he could keep working.

“So… you not gonna turn me into a Soldat after all?” you laughed nervously.

He brought the cigar to his lips. “Bad materials.”

You slapped his chest playfully and turned to nestle yourself in his arms. Usually after sex you’d push him away, the man radiated far too much heat in the already sweltering factory, but you were currently thankful for the warmth. It must have been awkward trying to work around the mass of your body, but he didn’t complain. As the two of you sat together you came to the realisation that he wasn’t doing any work at all, and that in reality, all he wanted to do was sit with you in his arms while you recovered.

Fuck.

Somewhere along the way the two of you had lost yourselves. What was supposed to have been a one-night stand had spiralled into weekly hookups, and from there it had turned into shared space and something akin to actual concern for one another. You were filled with a sense of dread, but you pushed it down in favour of sinking further into his chest. Before you drifted off, you could have sworn you felt the brush of his lips against your hair. 

A bitter sweetness churned your stomach. You felt a unique longing, beyond anything you’d ever felt for anyone else. Sex and desire had become secondary in favour of a new want; if only you had more time to spend in comfortable silence together.

[heliavaz]

CLOSED STARTER FOR @evanoraray

Helia could still remember how it had felt to loose someone she cared for. Fenrir had made that situation exist in abundance, there was no escaping it. And with how much Helia was a part of the community, every death was etched in her mind.

But Axel's was unfair. To be shot down by another human being, on a full moon, when he should've been either home or with the other witches. If only she could've taught him to speak to the spirits beforehand, if only she'd found more time to help him.

She sat in a cafe, her coffee untouched before her. She hadn't even lend a hand in location Zhyan Suri, who'd escaped that same night. She'd barely found time to prepare for tonight's Full Moon. She'd only been helping with the mourning, taking care of Axel's belongings, trying to reach out to family. She realised she knew very little of Axel.

When Evanora joined her there, after Helia had send her texts to request her company, there were tears in her eyes.

"Hello Nora, would you like anything to drink?"

[simplylove101]

2023 Horror Challenge: [48/?]

↳“You can't see it but it lives inside.“ It Lives Inside (2023) dir. Bishal Dutta

Plot: An Indian-American teenager struggling with her cultural identity has a falling out with her former best friend and, in the process, unwittingly releases a demonic entity that grows stronger by feeding on her loneliness.

Starring: Megan Suri, Neeru Bajwa, Mohana Krishnan, Betty Gabriel, Vik Sahay & Gage Marsh

Oh man, I hate that I have to say it but another movie that honestly I knew beforehand that it was gonna disappoint me because of the negative things I'd heard and yet I still watched it. I genuinely wanted to still give it a chance because it's always so cool when people are able to bring a different culture/perspective to a genre. People deserve to feel represented. So from that angle, I was all for this concept. The problem is the actual story itself for me because things in it don't feel very genuine/the world not fully set up. We get plopped in a scenario that feels half-baked (the ending of the friendship and the other different dynamics we see) We don't get much backstory and what we do get is super vague. Same with the entity it feels like. It all honestly felt drawn out for the sake of making it a 90 minute movie with not as much substance as one would hope with something that should feel different imo. I hate being so critical. lol I wish I could say I liked it but I don't wanna lie either. I think the lead's a good actress but they didn't give us much to really feel for her character. Everyone else just kinda felt like they were there, especially the guy interest, who literally had no reason to be in there, besides having a scene where she makes a confession to him. Otherwise, his whole role could have been scrapped, at least to me. lol The actual entity... I don't even know where to begin. Definitely not what I was expecting to see. I don't know what I thought it would be but not that. XD I am glad they did at least give a monster reveal though because it was getting kinda boring to just watch people get thrown around by nothing for most of the movie. I do appreciate it seemed like they were going for a practical approach for the actual look of it though (in a way that reminded me of an 80s monster), I was just iffy about the overall look. I will say there were some cool shots in there and some music cues I liked but the whole did, unfortunately, feel rather basic. Even the title. Like I said, I wanted to like it. I really did. I hate that I gotta be nitpicky with it but I didn't enjoy most of it. Oh well. That said, I've seen some people say they didn't mind it so you know, maybe there is an audience for it. I just hated how the story felt dumbed down personally.