#on twitter i go ham though

[emilyartstudio-s]

Are you in any other fandoms? Not asking you to draw all the fandoms you're in or anything! Just wanna know if you have any personality other than "heeheehoohoo southpark" ?

i don't have a personality

[istormortis]

Kindof went ham on him but he's one of the main characters of the AU so why not :3c So went down the rabbit hole with this one and pulled my inspiration from a couple of sources, mainly from two artists on twitter that I stumbled across and wanted to expand on it further plus the original story for Obanai in KNY.

Initial design is based off of the first halloween set with Obanai and the large cobra art (2019/2020 set?) - my style is going in twenty directions and I am sorry orz

SHINOBU | TENGEN | KYOJURO | MITSURI | SANEMI | GIYUU MORE UNDER CUT~

Obanai was living his life easily as a snake demon, usually in the noodle form or a humanoid appearance until humans had seen him and thought he was some poor soul that was possessed so they tried to do an exorcism on him to rid of the demon in him. Unfortunately due to their limited knowledge they were unsuccessful and instead fractured his soul into two, leaving a raw side of him and the side that is often presented. At night he is cursed with Ianabi's presence, which emerges from his back. At first Ianabi retained a snake form but overtime his ire/anger towards people has grown and he's formed a human version of himself (hence why he's similar to what he looked like as a child + snake demon woman his family worshiped in the orig. story). He cannot move far from Obanai's body and at most is stuck in a room with him due to that he's a danger to other people and most importantly himself (whatever happens to one happens to the other).

When Ianabi (name given to by Kyojuro, Obanai backwards but with an 'i' instead of 'o') emerges, the color fades from Obanai's body and shifts to the other which often leaves him white haired and teal-eyed. Kyojuro and the others have tried to help, but Obanai has accepted that he's forever cursed until he's run into Mitsuri who wants to try and help them. She tries to be friendly to Ianabi but due to Obanai's general distrust and raw emotion its making it difficult for Mitsuri to win Ianabi /Obanai over though she is have much better luck than the others.

During the day while its Obanai, he is less likely to have moments of raw emotion/reactions but it can happen when he looses his temper and at times can lash out. When at night and the two parts of his soul are separated he's reserved and quiet, hiding away while Ianabi acts as a guard until morning. Tl;DR - Ianabi is a physical manifestation of Obanai's distrust and anger towards life and people. It's his ugly side that would be a metaphor but has become a physical representation of himself that slowly grows stronger the longer his soul remains broken.

For the artist credits there's two! hotlemon17 - for they were the ones that did the white haired Obanai and I was like!! YES he looks nice with white hair so I wanted to draw him with that gogo_washiya - For their comic that had Obanai and Mitsuri meeting, and at night is when the giant snake on his back emerges and I really liked that idea so that was the spur of inspiration for this portrayal

[swtnrcmnt]

୨୧ — s.r x singer!r; headcanons (1)

pairing: post prison!spencer x singer!reader

feeding into my daydreams..

also, this was prompted by scrolling through radiant-reid's spencer x famous!reader posts which i love because they simply fuel my daydreams even more :)) enjoy !

probably met on a case or something of that sort. he also studied in la at one point so they possibly could have met through a mutual friend but tbh her being a target is most likely!

penelope is obviously a very big fan. like out of all the people on the team, she's probably the one who listens to y/n's music the most, maybe even went to one of her concerts

oh my god just think about the sweet little love songs. :'(( ugh imagine spence getting all flustered when it gets released and the whole team is just playing the song 24/7 to tease him

most likely didn't have any social media beforehand. but after dating y/n he decided to get instagram or maybe twitter just to see her posts and literally only post her on his feed because she's just so pretty and cute to post

oh my.. imagine the fans the first time y/n ever posts a photo of spencer in a photo dump !! and his reaction to all the comments and tweets, he's just so confused why people want him to hit them with a truck he's like ??? "that would be fatal, why would they thank me for that?"

also yes this is post prison reid because he was just 10x hotter than he already was once he was released. argue with the wall.

guys !! award shows with spencer !! that would be everything !!

he would be so supportive of every win too :(( even if you were only nominated or just there to perform he would still be so so proud as if you did win something

he's for sure for sure the first person to hear every song. unless it's about him. those one's are usually a surprise.

ugh imagine putting a soundbite of him somewhere in a song. maybe at the end or beginning and it's just a small bit of a voicemail or video that you two filmed together just having fun. or possibly something spicy but... shhhhhhhhh

comes to every fitting, every rehearsal. hell, maybe even on tour as well if he gets time off from the bau. especially since he would already be used to the whole 'flying around every other day' thing from cases.

whenever they have a case in california he always always makes sure to stay behind a few days to hang out with you especially because him being in dc and always travelling for work would mean long distance

and if you're not on tour you decide to stay in dc for a while or even move there (while still having property in california) so that you get to be with him anytime he's home

having a concert in dc !! ofc he invites everyone (as if garcia wasn't already planning on going anyway lmaoo) so they could all see and probably meet you

if this is pre prison!reid, and hotch was still unit chief, he would for sure give spence a whole lecture about how careful he has to be with dating somebody with such a high profile profession, because he knows how high risk celebrities are to stalkers and home invasions

the whole team is very very supportive of them though, even if it's long distance because they find a way to make it work.

also best believe she gets spence an actual iPhone as a gift so that they can facetime when either one of them is away

him playing the piano in one of your songs awhhhh :( and he has writing or producing credits on it

you already know that whoever is driving puts on y/n's music just to tease him. ESPECIALLY IF IT'S A SPICY SONG ehehehe

ugh but if it's a really sad song for example "decode" by sabrina carpenter (which is absolutely heartbreaking lyrically but i highly recommend u listen to it) he gets all sad because he knows exactly what it's about and remembers when you first wrote it

ok i have to stop myself before i go absolutely ham on headcanons. i have so many thoughts about this trope.

hope u enjoyed !

part two | part three

[pbnmj]

Genuinely curious, what’s up with Noir’s age? And what does it have to do with his 08/09 run? ((You may ignore if you wish :D))

i no longer have to do an extremely long explaination about comics noir because it has already been done here, by foolsocracy!!!!!!! really great breakdown of his very vague age, which is never said outright in the 08-09 run, only implied!! my own personal take on this is that he's 17-turning-18 in the first one, just about graduated high school but not able to afford college (see the panel below LOL)

this also got a little longer than i thought it would, so under the cut for the rest of it! the tl:dr is "itsv!noir is not the same as comics!noir, and people saying that he's 19 isn't strictly true. to me, he's around 30!"

eyes without a face (the 09 run!!) only takes place 8 months after, in september 1933, which makes peter 18-turning-19. this is more of a headcanon though!! (see the noir birthday poll, which made me a noir-is-a-december-baby truther)

(peter being a libra is mentioned once in the first issue of amazing spider-man (2015), mostly as a punchline, and a specific date of october 10th was given in another issue that i have lost. other media, like with the mcu, has his birthday on august 10th. but to me noir is a sagittarius and you cannot pry that from me)

the 2020 run of noir begins establishing the year as 1939, making peter around his mid-20s, and 25 if you believe me on the 'peter was 17 in noir 2008' LOL.... i won't lie though i haven't read this one properly i very quickly skimmed so pinch of salt regarding my takes on the 2020 run

noir being in his teens during the first original runs is why "itsv!noir is 17-19" goes around so often! i've seen that on tumblr, twitter AND on tiktok and i don't mind what people hc, but it has become a pet peeve when people say it like its canon even though it's never been mentioned by the writers or the art book. itsv!noir is similar to his comic counterpart, but his differences in his origin story make me interpret him as a different noir (like how peter b.'s dimension is 616B, making him... 90214B?)

again, we are straying from itsv canon/etc here because i'm deranged, but i personally hc noir as being 32! some of my friends think he's in his mid-20s, others think he's older, but really the only reason is that 32 is the midpoint between the other two peter parkers: ripeter was 26 and peter b is 38. he's also voiced by nic cage, which makes me think older in the first place!

i just like the idea that he's more experienced that ripeter, but hasn't gone through as much as peter b. he spends most of the movie being broody ("moral ambiguity of your actions!", "matches burn down to my fingertips", etc etc), or snarkier than you'd expect ("it's that easy" "who are you again?" "you gonna fight or are you just bumping gums" etc etc). he also very sweetly tells everyone that he loves them before he leaves !!! i feel like it can in fact be in character for a peter parker in his late 20-early 30s, distanced from his tragedies in his own world by time (he doesn't forget them, that's different !) being able to look out for the spiders around him.

okay now we are VERY deep into hc territory, but it makes him able to balance out the rest of the itsv spider-gang as an older-brother figure who's able to guide peni, miles and gwen but also be able to act as a voice of reason for peter b. and ham if the sitauation calls for it. that being said noir is still peter parker and is therefore capable of spider-esque tomfoolery, which can lead to him misjudging the need for a snarky one liner ("this is a pretty hard core origin story"). my characterisation of him is also very inspired by heyitsspiderman, the itsv fic that changed me for the better, and noir isn't even in it that much LOL

veering back into itsv!noir's age and your actual question though: he's always read older in the movies, and not at all 17-19. noir is always going to be around 30 (32 if i have to give a number) to me!! if anything, he did go through the same kind of 'canon events' as comics noir did, but is an older and more experienced version of him, with tweaks to the backstory (like a radioactive spider instead of a spider-god, and webshooters instead of organic webbing). there are reasons ofc to see him being younger (egg creams are non-alcoholic, and that if it's 1933, his comicsverse self would be 18-19 too) . however you must consider that sony didn't expand on this and therefore it's up to fan interpretation and also that

[noddytheornithopod]

PnF Season 5 Title Speculation

Okay first thing's first, found out through this (click on "relationships"), which I found out through the PnF Wiki twitter.

As for the episode titles themselves, I will list what's been confirmed here.

501: Summer Block Buster/Cloudy with a Chance of Mom

502: Appetite for Adventure/License to Bust

503: Dry Another Day/Deconstructing Doof

504: Tropey McTropeface/Biblio-Blast!

505: A Chip to the Vet/More Than an Intern

506: The Aurora Perry-Alis/Lord of the Firesides

507: Agent T (for Teen)/The Haberdasher

508: [Title TBD]/Out of Character

Alright, now that's out of the way, time to get crazy and speculate nonsense based on titles alone

Summer Block Buster: I don't really have much to say besides the fact the title is very fitting. Yeah Summer Block Busters are a thing, but I won't be surprised if this episode is just one big grand re-entrance for everyone. I expect it to be very meta about it too, some of the dialogue Dan recorded for Doof even suggests this.

License to Bust: IDK what to say here but the whole pun on "licence to kill" (which is also the title of a Bond movie). I don't think puns are emblematic of much, but it's most explicit confirmation Candace is still trying to bust her brothers, which people understandable debated after Candace Against the Universe. Wonder if the licence thing is going to be relevant.

Dry Another Day: Second Bond title pun, lol.

Deconstructing Doof: Not sure what's being gotten at here, but it's an intriguing title to say the least. Very uh interesting. I could make a joke about how it's about how they don't know what to do with him post Summer but I'm not here for snarky commentary.

Tropey McTropeface: Uh... very interesting. Named after Boaty McBoatface, apparently. IDK what tropey nonsense they're getting up to though.

Biblio-Blast: I feel like SOMETHING is being said here but I don't know what. Was pointed out to me it could be something about weaponised books but IDK what that even looks like.

A Chip to the Vet: Okay this is very interesting. Firstly, it's probably Perry going to the vet. Secondly... one thing done for pets at vets is to get chipped. Whether it's just something the vet does or it's a deliberate request so they can get an idea of where Perry wanders off to... it's gonna be a big problem for Perry. Hopefully OWCA has a way to get around that lol.

More than an Intern: Carl episode. Nuff said. More trying to prove himself to Monogram probably even as Monogram treats him like shit, lmao.

The Aurora Perry-Alis: Aurora Borealis? At this time of year, at this time of- yeah we all know Steamed Hams probably. No idea what this will add up to honestly, maybe some kind of astronomical phenomenon that looks like a platypus, or the gang make one? If there's anything I have to say though, there's a chance it might run parallel to the next episode in a Bubble Boys or Bee Day type fashion, because...

Lord of the Firesides: Yeah you know I'm gonna be talking about what is obviously a Fireside Girls episode as that guy with the Isabella brainrot. So if it works like Temple of Sap or Bee Story, it COULD run parallel to the last episode, but that's not guaranteed. Either way... some friction between the Fireside Girls is going to come up. The title obviously references Lord of the Flies, aka the story where kids turn brutal and try to dominate each other or whatever. Maybe there's a split Isabella is caught in the middle of. Or perhaps... Isabella is removed as troop leader. She could make some serious blunder (could even be unrelated to Phineas even if that bias does affect her activities a lot), but maybe the other girls just end up being sick of Isabella's Phineas nonsense after something went too far. :P If Isabella is kicked out, I feel like she'd really struggle with that, because being a Fireside Girl is really important to her. Also, IDK who would replace Isabella as leader (honestly this ep would be good to just flesh out the other girls more in general), but I did see a hilarious suggestion that maybe it could be Candace. Would be similar to We Call it Maize (a very underrated episode IMO) but with more serious consequences. Not something I'm riding on, but it's a fun idea, especially if she proves she's more egotistical or just outright doesn't know what she's doing. Also saw a hilarious yet touching idea that somehow PHINEAS helps Isabella regain her leadership, he'd reassure her of why she's a good Fireside Girl and all that (cuz he believes in her to the ends of the Universe guys, shit my Phinabella is showing), or just somehow help her prove herself again. Also, the solution coming from what the girls thought was the problem would just be ironic and funny in a very PnF way. Either way... amazing at what a mere title can make me wonder.

Agent T (for Teen): Perry the teenage girl??? Okay so I've already seen this catch on from many people, but if there's one thing everyone in the Phineas and Ferb fandom wants, it's more Stacy and Perry interaction. Sure, maybe it could be someone else (Monty's a teenager, where's he been? maybe something leading to or following up Vanessa's internship based on when the revival takes place, or even some weird Candace shenanigans)... but come on. Even if it isn't, we all are gonna see this and hope it's Stacy related as she gets roped back into Perry's world again.

The Haberdasher: So something to do with selling men's clothing? Definitely a scheme PnF could enact. Also there's the meaning of stuff for things like sewing but that's supposedly British and the men's clothing thing is American soooo we know what's more likely. I wonder who's gonna get the glow up though? Baljeet? Jeremy? Maybe the guys just wanna slay? Shit, Phinabella brainrot is back, what happens when she sees whatever Phineas puts on? :v Of course, this could somehow tie to the B-plot too, maybe Doof needs to dress nicely for something.

TBD: Truly a profound title. So much is said with mere letters... okay yeah I can't do this lol

Out of Character: So much is said with so little. The first thing that came to mind was once someone asked Dan and Swampy at I believe SDCC if they'd ever do a personality swap episode, and their response was to look at each other and be like "maybe we will now" (it was likely too late before the show ended then but yeah). Point is... maybe we're finally seeing this idea. It can be very easy to have characters act out of character through whatever means ie an inator or invention, but if you're going to name an episode that, I think you're going to have something that really commits to that premise. There is ENDLESS potential of weird dynamic shifts you could do with this, it could be truly hilarious. Maybe it's also body swap shenanigans, but well I think I made my case for personality swap. Just imagine Perry trying to take over the Tri-State Area, or Baljeet bullying Buford, or Ferb talking while Phineas is silent, or *could go on for hours*.

Soooo yeah that's way more speculation than I expected, let's see if any of this leads to anything lol

[policemanofprincesspark]

"I don't think he ever specified who the chicken parma ham was for, did he? If there's a clip out there of him trying to insinuate that it was for Eleanor, then that will truly have been a slip-up."

(this response got really long, sorry...)

I sent in the original anon about the chicken story and just wanted to say that I'd wager most non/anti-Larries assume Louis made the meal for Eleanor because those fans either don't know about or don't remember Harry's post about Louis' first meal and have no real reason to keep track of stuff like that as closely as Larries, so they probably don't even know there's a wonky timeline there - at least in terms of assuming it was for Eleanor. That's the reason I say, at least to a non-Larrie maybe researching Larry for the first time (which I was at the time), that story is one of the only genuine slip-ups in my opinion - maybe that's the wrong term for it. A lot of people also either don't know about or don't remember Hannah either.

Speaking of, I'd just like to point out that I got something wrong. Eleanor was first pictured with Louis in Sept 2011, him and Hannah apparently broke up around July 2011. So, unless you believe Hannah was some sort of early stunt - which has never really made sense to me to be honest but feel free to add your two cents on that - you could argue the chicken dish was for Hannah.

Actually, can I talk about Hannah for a hot minute? I know I just said her being a stunt doesn't make sense to me but she does have her own weird timeline discrepancy, at least in my opinion. According to the CosmicLeeds 2011 video - assuming most of their info is correct (and I believe there were screenshots of this shown) - Hannah once responded to a fan on Twitter saying that Louis and hers anniversary was March 18th but in January of 2011, she said they'd been together for 17 months which… okay, am I insane or does 17 months not add up no matter the timeline? If they got together in March 2010 as she seemed to imply, 17 months would've been August 2011. January 2011 would have been closer to 10 months, that's not even a year. Even if the dates are wrong and we assume they got together in March 2009, 17 months would still be in August 2010 and January 2011 would be about 22 months, closer to two years. I even got really weird about it and subtracted 17 months from January 2011 and that would've been August 2009, so unless she got confused and got the dates wrong or claimed the day they met or something else entirely was their anniversary, 17 months by January 2011 genuinely doesn't make sense to me. Maybe they first met March 2009 and their first date wasn't until August 2009?? Or perhaps their first date was March 2009 but they didn't make it exclusive until August 2009?? I'm just trying to be reasonable here, sorry. I suppose it doesn't matter much and maybe I'm just reading too much into it but it made my brain hurt for a good couple of hours one night. Oh hell, maybe she's just really bad at dates and math lol.

Sorry if that was confusing and weird, I'm gonna go hide in a corner now.

(it is nice to find a Larrie blog that seems open to discuss stuff like this though so thank you)

It's possible she was referring to when they'd first met or something. I don't think too much about Hannah. I don't think it matters whether she was a stunt. If she was, why did they get rid of her and give Louis a long-term beard? Why not just stick with Hannah? Sounds more like a situation where Louis broke up with her because he came to the conclusion that he was gay, and, after the G.A.Y. club incident, Simon saw it and that's when they brought in ol' Max Clifford to hook Louis up with Eleanor. On that subject, yes, Simon was upset that Louis had gotten too drunk, but... what did he specifically do that showed he was too drunk? Because watching those videos back, it doesn't look too worrying. Oh, wait:

Okay, so it's always been my theory that this picture did it. Simon saw that and flipped. It should be obvious why, but I never see anybody talk about it.

It looks like a scene out of a gay porno. Again, for obvious reasons that I shouldn't have to point out, lol.

This was about to be horrible for 1D's marketing. It was only 2011, and WMYB had just come out. Simon was not about to let Louis think it was okay to be gay openly, grabbing the hands of men in the crowd and posing with them shirtless like he was doing. Again, this was the very homophobic early 2010s, and as well 1D was marketed toward girls around 9-18 total, with the sweet spot being more around 12-16. They were just breaking into the US market. This. Was. Bad.

[animentality]

Did they get a postive response from adding those Gortash lines? I thought a bunch of people hateing on it instead? Also what if they removed the lines to change them a go a diffrent direction. I'm sorry. I have a lot of worry they wont do something I agee with.

The overwhelming reaction was positive. Durgetash artists went on Twitter to celebrate, and the small but passionate fans of the ship went nuclear here and on Twitter, and helped BG3 trend, yada yada, tale as old as time.

Most people don't care about Durgetash or Gortash. The majority of people you hear from would be the people who like both of those things. It's also a small ship.

The haters of that ship are even smaller in comparison, because the hand that reaches out will always touch more than the hand clenched into a fist.

And the only "legitimate" complainers, who don't just dislike the ship on principle, are the whiners who keep insisting their durges are lesbians, and how dare Larian "force" them into a relationship with a man - which is literally not what Larian did.

No one bitches about how Gale's ORIGIN completely precludes him from being gay.

I see no reason why you can't similarly have Durge's ORIGIN make them attracted to men. Or, you know. Enver is special.

Oh. And also. It's so fucking platonic, if you want it to be. Stop being stupid and just say you don't like Durgetash. It's as easy as that.

Stop using "lesbophobic" as a handy label for your self righteous soapbox. You just don't like the ship, and that's fine. It's FINE. But acting like Durgetash is lesbophobic - oh, go play a Tav.

And also, Astarion and Gale and Wyll better not flirt with you in game, even though you can tell them to fuck off, or else they're lesbophobic too.

That's the only discourse that gained traction on Twitter. As far as I know.

If Larian had made Gale wear blackface or something, and people got pissed, then yeah. They'd back up on that, and get rid of it pronto.

But Durgetash???

Aside from the general evil antics, they're not that fucking controversial of a ship.

Most people don't even PLAY the Dark Urge.

I don't know how to stress this any other way...

People act like Durgetashers are loud - we're honestly not that loud.

Astarion fans are far louder, and yet, the most romanced companion is SHADOWHEART and then Laezel and KARLACH.

He's not even in the top 3. And yet, he dominates the content on Twitter and Tumblr... he's definitely more popular than Gortash or the Dark Urge or Durgetash together...but his fans are still technically the damn minority.

So Durgetash in comparison to Starries???

Infinitesimal.

And Durgetash haters?

Would be even smaller.

So what I'm saying is...

I'm kind of tired of answering asks about this.

I don't KNOW for certain whether or not this is Larian backing up or walking forward, and while I don't believe they'd walk back on this, and especially not for a handful of people, it kind of annoys me to even think about things outside of my control.

now if Larian makes a big grand statement and says actually we totally rescind something WE WROTE AND ADDED TO THE GAME because some people got mad...then I'll call them cucks, and complain.

But as of right now?

As far as I know personally, and assume in my heart... it's neutral.

The lines are probably just bugged. Also, not ALL of them are bugged either, so.

Please stop freaking out, guys.

I am the world's biggest resident durgetash freak, and I'm shrugging at this, and just saying it's a bug.

Don't let it bother you. It's out of your control, regardless.

(And I stress again - if we find out they're legitimately backing away from something they did...they have the spine of a ham sandwich. But until we know that for sure, I won't condemn them for this, because as far as we know, it is legitimately an accident.)

[steddiebang]

Steddie Bigbang Weekly Round-up: November 1 - November 4

Remember Me, Love (when I'm reborn) Author: @stevebckley and on twitter / Artist: @fancycheliniarts and on twitter Steve Harrington was born an Alpha. Everyone in his life had expected him to be an Alpha so they weren't surprised

Everyone except himself.

After over two years of saving every spare dollar, Steve is finally ready to take the final leap to transition from the Alpha he appears to be, to the Omega he’s always known he is. When the clinic pairs him with Eddie Munson as the Alpha that is meant to help guide him through his transition, it only takes one meeting for Steve to realize that he may not want to let go of Eddie when it’s all over.

The Baby Project Author: miraculousmultifan / Artist: @danadaria. Steve turned around with a grin and propped his elbows up on Munson's desk. Then, before he could really think about the words coming out of his mouth, he said, “Guess that makes us married then, huh darling?”

Munson, of course, stared back at him blankly, but instead of backtracking or something, Steve batted his eyelashes for good measure, really hamming it up.

Munson blinked at him once. Then twice. Then he raised an eyebrow and said, deadpan, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

In the last month and a half of Steve's senior year, he gets paired up with Eddie Munson for the final project in Mrs. O'Donnell's Home Economics class. The assignment? To take care of a fake baby for four weeks. For some reason, Steve finds himself surprisingly excited. Eddie, not so much.

I Wanna Be Adored Author: @StrangerThings1975 / @strngrthngs1975 (twitter) / StrangerThings1975(ao3) / Artist: gimmekaseddie (twitter) / @gimmedemosteve (tumblr) Eddie thinks it would be cool to add a fake demon summoning ritual into his song lyrics. He thinks it’s even cooler when the summoning actually works... eventually. At first, though, he’s just wondering what the hell Steve Harrington is doing at his door.

“What is it exactly that you want, Eddie? What are your deepest desires?”

And they thought he was the freak?

“Dude.” Eddie threw him a look. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I know one of them.”

“Oh, and what would that be?” He couldn’t resist taking the bait.

trouble’s always gonna find you, baby (but so am i) Author: tumblr strangersatellites / twitter strngrsatellite / Artist: tumblr becomingfoxes / twitter becomingfoxes / Artist: tumblr amethyst-crowns / twitter amethystcrowns Steve Harrington has spent the better part of the last five years knocking out hit after hit for the Assassin’s Guild and becoming one of the most lethal agents in the business. After a series of unprecedented, wildly successful cases across the country, his boss pulls him off the active case roster for eight months. He’s been keeping tabs on the Chicago Syndicate for years and has finally deemed Steve ready to take out their leader, The Sandman.

The only problem is that undercover agents have been able to turn up little to no information regarding The Sandman’s identity. The only information the Guild has been able to dredge up is the name of one of their business fronts: a sophisticated private nightclub called Hellfire, and the name of its director, Syndicate member Eddie Munson.

or: Eddie is a low ranking member of the mafia and Steve is the assassin hired to kill his boss.

(i fear) for what tomorrow brings Author: eiqhties (tumblr / AO3) / Artist: sullymygoodname (tumblr / AO3) Since Starcourt, Steve and Eddie have been meeting (and falling in love) secretly. Until - frustrated by Steve’s secrecy - Eddie ended things between them. Steve doesn’t cope well. He’s been having nightmares, nosebleeds, and painful headaches. 

Everything is made much worse after Chrissy Cunningham dies in Eddie’s trailer. Steve is forced to watch as Eddie becomes involved in everything Steve tried so hard to protect him from. 

Or: Steve Harrington’s No Good, Very Bad, Awful Month. 

nobody rules these streets at night like me Author: maxinemaxmayfield [tumblr / ao3] / Artist: maikaartwork [tumblr / twitter] Eddie Munson has never stayed in one place for long. 

When his mom disappears for the last time and his dad goes to jail, he has no other family to turn to. He spends his teenage years moving through the foster system, making friends and then losing them just as quickly. In the end, there’s never any reason to stay. 

After he runs away from his fifth foster home, he finds his way to Hawkins, Indiana and for the first time, finds a reason to stay.

At the Start of the End of the World Author: InsaneJuliann /marvelingjules / Artist: mc-i-r Eddie survived the Demobats (if only barely), Max is in a coma, and the Upside Down is seeping slowly into Hawkins. Steve’s doing what he can, looking out for the people he cares about - but who takes care of him? Eddie, who’s cleared of murder charges but only technically, figures he’s got the time and the interest in taking that job on. And maybe, there’s more to the friendship growing between them than just Platonic feelings. But as the Upside Down grows stronger in Hawkins, becoming harder to ignore, and old enemies and allies make themselves known, Steve and Eddie’s growing feelings for each other may have to wait - indefinitely.

An Act of Grace Author: missberrycake / @daysarestranger​ / Artist: @bienmoreau​ / Podficcer: singinginmay / @daysarestranger​ On the morning after Broughton Hall’s annual summer fête, the body of a local Baron’s son was found on the grounds of the estate, as lifeless and cold as the morning was warm. Having spent the summer together, member of the household staff Edward Munson was the first to be suspected. As for the Baron’s son, perhaps there was more to him than the Baron would have society believe.

Decades later, Max Mayfield comes across the murder of Steven Harrington while researching topics for the second season of her hit true crime podcast. Along with her some-time engineer and full-time ex-boyfriend, Lucas, Max uncovers a story of two people that, entwined in secrecy and truths left unspoken, reaches out across history.

Two Truths and a Lie About Steve Harrington Author: endzela [ao3] / Artist: singinginmay [ao3] Steve is desperate to find a date for his high school reunion, and his best friend Eddie volunteers to pretend to be his boyfriend. What Eddie doesn’t know, however, is that Steve has had a crush on him ever since they became friends in college, and although Steve is not planning on letting him find out about it now, spending a week together in the same room might make things difficult. Especially since Eddie keeps flirting with him at every chance he gets.

As the poets say Author: ChristinMKay / @transmascsteveharrington / Artist: @quokkafoxtrot / Artist: riddletalks Eddie loathes the idea of soulmates. The words his soulmate will say the moment they realize they are in love with him sit heavy on his wrist. Heavy like a burden, like a cursed prophet, harbinger of death. Others cry tears of joy when they get their words, Eddie had cried tears of anxiety. The dark letters on his wrist read, “Dustin died.” On the other side of town and yet worlds apart from Eddie, Steve loathes the words on his wrist just as much. Not because he doesn’t want a soulmate. No, he longs for them every day. And every day is a painful reminder that he hasn’t found them yet when someone randomly calls out his words. The letters on his wrist simply say, “Hey Steve.”

tin roof rusted Author: @bdelaney_ao3 [twitter] [ao3] / Artist: @themeanderingty /. Artist: @cemeterylight / @cemeterylights Steve had always been someone who thinks of sex as something that was shared between people, never something that could be just for himself. After coming to terms with his sexuality, Steve finally finds the nerve to visit the adult store where Nancy works only to find something so much better than a toy along the way: the owner and resident king of nerds, Eddie Munson.

22 upcoming projects to be posted next week (Nov 5 - Nov 11).

*To keep up with all the Steddie Bigbang 2023 posting, be sure to follow us @steddiebang or track tags #steddiebang23 masterposts, #steddiebang23 project promo, or #steddiebang23 upcoming projects.

[writing-is-a-martial-art]

hi! So you know how you made that Greek myth about Tumblr and Twitter? Well due to the recent events of quote migration I plan on making a myth for the fall of the quotev empire! I'm a bad writer though, any tips?

Hi!

That's awesome! I wouldn't call myself an authority on good writing in any way, shape or form, but here's some stuff I gathered over the years:

Go ham on the first draft. Don't think about it as making a story yet, that's editing and rewriting and the like. The first draft is playing a "put the words together" game and you are winning (and i often find that the first draft written like this is better than the one where I agonized over every sentence).

See how other people did it. Look at stories of the same genre, or similar format: don't be afraid of being unoriginal, only you can tell your story, and if you use inspirations from others in it that doesn't make it less yours. (For Greek-style myth inspirations, Ovid's metamorphosis is a pretty fun one, although I don't know if it applies to the format you're working in).

Read the thing out loud. Read parts of it out loud. The best way to get a grasp on how the story feels, in my experience, is to give it a voice.

Finally, disregard any advice that feels stifling. I'm just some guy, every writer giving out advice is, and writing isn't an exact science where any one formula works for everyone. It might take a while to figure out what works for you, so experiment a bunch and don't be too hard on yourself if everything doesn't go perfectly right away. All art is great art.

That's all, I hope you have fun with it! Don't hesitate to drop me a link or tag me in the story if you post it, I'd love to see what you come up with.

[nsfwitchy2]

is your distinction with incest about growing up? like, if you grew up with your twin and you were besties and loved each other and had repressed interests, and then you found out you actually weren't related. would it be okay to start a relationship or would that be gross cause they grew up together. genuinely never thought about incest like this before. like reverse incest lol.

Oh anon the can of worms you are opening with this ask whwowhwkwhkwhwoeje

Ignoring the rest of what you said, we’ll get to it later, the distinction for incest for me personally when it comes to irl relationships is the same as my distinction for any and all relationships - which is that, as long as every party is consenting and acting of their own free will, do whatever you want, I straight up don’t fucking care.

The issue specifically that comes up with incest a LOT (not counting birth defects because then you delve into eugenics territory) - is that often times there is an unhealthy power dynamic. I remember back when I was on twitter everyone got in a huge tizzy over some guy who claimed he was in an incestuous relationship with his sister and the issue I saw get brought up the most was the power dynamic. If you have lived with somebody for a long time and you have a close familial relationship with them, it makes it much easier for them to manipulate you into doing things against your will.

The topic I was discussing in what I believe is the post you’re referencing, is the plot I’ve seen in a few medical tv shows now (ok it’s just two but that’s a lot of nickels yknow) where like…. Two people meet as strangers, date for years, fall in love, and then discover they’re related and suddenly it rocks their world. Personally??? I think that’s stupid because at that point the ONLY issue is the taboo nature of the relationship. There is no power dynamic created by being family because you have been literal strangers your entire lives.

In relation to what you’re saying though - yeah I guess if two people grew up together and then learned they weren’t related and then decided to date, so long as every party is consenting and there isn’t an unhealthy power dynamic fueled by that previously familial relationship, go ham, idc lmao

[theculturedmarxist]

One of my favorite follows on Twitter right now is a smallish account run by an anti-imperialist activist who goes by “Left I on the News”, because he has a real knack for going through articles in the mainstream press and highlighting the mundane little manipulations we’re fed each day to shape our worldview in alignment with the US empire.

One story he singled out recently was a New York Times article titled “Russia Fires Drones and Missiles at Southern Ukraine,” which opens with the line, “Russian forces launched drones and missiles at cities in southern Ukraine from the Black Sea early Tuesday, Ukrainian officials said, a day after Moscow blamed Kyiv for an attack on a bridge linking the occupied Crimean Peninsula to Russia.”

Can you spot anything funny in that sentence? It’s not super obvious at first glance.

“Look how the NYT phrases this subhead to make Russia sound extra evil,” Left I tweeted with a screenshot of the article. “Not ‘a day after Kyiv attacked the Kerch Bridge’, but a day after Russia blamed them for doing it (as if it’s just some wild accusation). Remember — the most effective propaganda is the subtlest.”

“The most effective propaganda is the subtlest” is a phrase you should try to remember, because it’s so very true.

It is indeed ridiculous to try to frame this as some wild accusation by Russia, as though Moscow should have remained open to the possibility that the bridge was struck by Bolivia or Nepal. CNN reports that Ukrainian officials have taken credit for the attack, and just days ago Ukraine’s deputy defense minister publicly acknowledged that Ukraine was behind last year’s attack on the very same bridge. No serious person doubts that Ukraine was behind the attack, including those who support Ukraine.

But that subtle manipulation didn’t really stand out when you first saw it, did it?

As we’ve discussed previously, these subtle little adjustments of perception are what constitutes the vast majority of the propaganda westerners ingest through the news media from day to day. This is because the really overt, ham-fisted propaganda isn’t what’s effective; what’s effective is those sneaky little lies that slide in unchecked underneath people’s critical thinking faculties.

Contrast the above example with the response we’ve been seeing to Yeonmi Park, whose outlandish, larger-than-life propagandistic lies about what it’s like to live in North Korea have turned her into an internet meme. She’s become so widely mocked that even The Washington Post, among the first to help amplify her as a trustworthy North Korean defector after her arrival in the US in 2014, is now openly questioning her credibility.

This is because propaganda only works if it doesn’t ring people’s cognitive alarm bells. You can’t slide propaganda down people’s throats if it triggers their critical thinking gag reflex. If you want to poison someone’s food, you can only pull off the deed if they don’t taste the poison or throw it up before it takes effect.

So most propaganda isn’t of the Yeonmi Park “communists are so poor that they have to eat mud and get out of the train and push it because there’s no electricity” variety. It’s subtle. It’s these tiny little adjustments where US allies are reported on more sympathetically than US enemies, claims made by unaligned governments are reported with much more scrutiny and skepticism than aligned governments, and the sins which take place within the US-centralized power structure are overlooked while those outside it are amplified and condemned.

We’ve been ingesting these tiny little manipulations all our lives like microplastics in our water supply, and they build up within our reality tunnels to significantly warp our perception of what’s going on in the world.

And the fact that it’s been so many tiny little lies over years and years means it’s a lot harder to extract all the perception management from our worldview once we’ve discovered that it’s happening. If it was just a few really big lies we could reorient ourselves toward truth fairly quickly just by recognizing them, but because it’s so very many tiny manipulations it takes years of sincere work to fully free yourself from all the distortions and false assumptions you grew up with.

But it’s worth doing, because positive change can only come from an awareness of what’s true, whether you’re talking about individuals or humanity as a whole. Our task as humans is to come to a truth-based relationship with reality to the furthest extent possible, and that means fearlessly diving headfirst into the long, hard slog of sorting out fact from fiction, one lie at a time, no matter how subtle.

[hacash]

ted lasso 3x02 thoughts

Listen, I think we can all agree that this episode could pretty much be titled ‘Trent Crimm: Return of the Crimm’. I’m not even a big tedpendent girl but this was definitely their time.

I loved seeing Trent back at Richmond! It’s going to be great having more of James Lance on the show: one thing I did think was that Trent had definitely lost a little bit of his customary swagger – he’s back at Richmond but he’s no longer dominating the press room, he’s very much now in the jock-dominated locker room where the Roy storyline made it clear that he no longer has that commanding power that he did in the world of journalism (James Lance’s headcanon that Trent got into sports journalism because his dad wanted him to be into football – Trent is both of that world and not of it - lives in my head rent-free), and the entire arc of this episode was a really interesting way of easing Trent into this scene.

Being a non-sports, non-celebrity, non-rich person, the one gripe I often have with Ted Lasso is it very much takes the rich celebrity jock-ish status of the team as given – of course the himbos are justified in being paid ludicrous sums of money, of course it’s funny and not unsettling that Jamie thinks of non-celebrities as ‘muggles’. So having Trent, who’ll be the first locker-room-regular to come from a more academic, working-a-regular-non-sports-job-background, will be an interesting dynamic switch.

Roy’s entire arc with Trent just stabbed me in the heart. I always knew there had to be more to the ‘you’re a colossal prick and you always have been’ line and now I feel so freaking vindicated. And whoever pointed out that Roy refused to carry on the cycle of condemning teenage players back in s2 as a pundit…argh.

AND HE CARRIED THAT REVIEW AROUND WITH HIM FOR TWENTY-ODD YEARS. (Apparently the British comedian Eric Morecambe did a similar thing: carrying an old bad review of his first television appearance with him for the rest of his life despite reaching unparalleled success in his heyday. *sniffles*)

The one thing that was slightly jarring about Trent’s return was it felt like everyone (except for Roy) was surprisingly chill about him being at Richmond, considering that he was the journalist who broke the story about Ted’s mental health problems (Keeley even mentions gunning for Trent in the S2 finale). Of course, Ted being Ted we can assume he did a lot of sticking up for Trent at the time, but this only turns us back again to the big, painful, heart-stomping elephant in the room…how much does the rest of the Richmond crew know about the leak? And if it does ever slip out, how exactly is that going to go down?

On that note, I was under the impression that we only had to suffer more of Rupert if we also got more delicious Nate angst and arcs into the bargain. The fact that this week we had Rupert’s gross manipulations and no Nate is just a slap in the face.

(Anthony Head remains so wonderfully evil though.)

Zava! I’ve been hypothesising about him since leaked pictures of the first West Ham match hit Twitter, and I’m really interested in seeing where he goes…though, I’ll be real, right now he strikes me as just a prick. And not even a dumb, amusing prick like s1 Jamie (who I knew I was going to have a grudging soft spot for back when he piped up about the snacks being shit), but just…a prick. We’ll see though. I’m also really looking forward to seeing Jamie’s reaction to Zava: if he doesn’t like sharing the spotlight with another ace, or if it’s seeing the primadonna beneath the glamour and not wanting Zava to hurt his team.

And speaking of Zava’s hire…Rebecca’s takedown of him was magnificent, and her ability to be dragged into dodgy business decisions just to one-up Rupert are being played for laughs right now…but let’s be real, this show always plays things for laughs before turning the tables on you. Which basically means: this is going to hurt like a motherfucker.

Also REBECCA WAS THE OTHER WOMAN?!?!? God, that adds so many layers to Sassy telling her she’d hurt people while with Rupert. I cannot wait to find out more about that, it’s already hurting my heart.

DANI SCORING A GOAL WITH HIS FACE. Also his puppy dog excitement about Zava, which I’m sure won’t come back to bite him in the arse later.

I love how Higgins is basically the Richmond equivalent of Varys – he has his contacts everywhere, and no secrets are secret from him.

Keeley and Barbara! Honestly, I’m quite here for where this is going – Barbara’s attitude in this ep unkind and, let’s be honest, pretty classist when it came to Shazza(? Keeley’s model friend?), but also you do need someone to be boring and sensible and check the numbers when it comes to running a business. I’m hoping they keep working together well.

And that moment when Keeley watched Roy come back to Chelsea *lip wobble*

Actually, that entire Chelsea return moment…

AND the knowledge that Roy left Chelsea and Keeley because he couldn’t bear to be left… That revelation hurt. Not even Ted batting his eyes cartoon-anime-style could take the sting out of that kick to the chest.

Jamie continuing to go from strength to strength by trying to comfort Roy (unsuccessfully) in this episode, in his own unique fashion. ‘Old people are jumpy because of the war’ was incredible.

Not nearly enough himbos in this episode, I’m sorry to say, but the scene where they react to Zava, Trent, and Roy breaking up with Keeley was a thing of absolute beauty. And Beard’s shriek at the news was both hilarious and justifiable.

I’m also fascinated by the choice to have the himbos identify the best tactic to fight back at the Chelsea match, rather than Ted – it’s the second time in so many episodes when someone else has stepped up to do something which would traditionally be Ted’s role, and I’m wondering if there’s a pattern here. (And if there is, how Ted – who’s clearly uncertain about his place at Richmond – will interpret that.)

God, I almost nearly forgot that this was the episode where we found out that Isaac is a student of kinesics (Renaissance man!) and apparently regularly checks out Roy’s arse. Here we were all thinking Colin would be confirmed queer this season…is McAdoo about to sneak in from under our noses?

Also the post-gym scenes made this the episode where I realised the Greyhounds are definitely sporting a somewhat more...athletic look this season. I may have to put together some s1 v s3 comparison pics to be sure about this. Stay tuned.

[quarterdollar]

HI I'm assuming this is the main for gabrielagresteofficial, I can't remember the exact wording of the question I asked you, but generally what were your thoughts on movie Gabriel and the movie in general :3

HII YES YAY

so going in i was certainly expecting a PRETTY movie but not expecting anything much from the story……pokemon did an “alternative take on the main characters’ origins” movie too that was fun to watch once but nothing super memorable. PLUS you gotta take everything in ML with massive grains of salt to begin with. BUT!!! I WAS BEYOND PLEASANTLY SURPRISED!!!! WOW !!!!!!! i was NOT expecting them to actually wrap up the love square or the hawk moth conflict in a single film, let alone in a way that actually felt satisfying for every character involved. it felt like a huge callback to season 1 in the best way……everyone’s early-show characterizations are back, the ladynoir dynamic is super tastefully written and fun to watch, and overall it’s just a super sweet unapologetically earnest cornball of a movie. did you know that they are in love? they’re in loveee 😭😭

AND GABRIEL. OH MY GOD. HOLY SHIT. FUUUCCCK!!!!!! HIS EVERYTHING. because like. i love him forever and ever to the end of time in all forms Always. season 5 is insanely funny to me. but this man did NOT start as a heartless megalomaniacal asshole who turns his son into a vtuber and attacks random passerby on the street and buys twitter. he was just an extremely emotionally neglectful weirdguy once. we used to be able to go to his house and beg him to let adrien go to a birthday party and he’d break just a little and say yes. he was SO sad. and blonde. the filmmakers understood this. they brought us back to what we used to have. and then they gave us more by making him SO unbelievably mentally ill. saying he’s busy because he needs to go stand in a corner and brood. having meltdowns on the daily. passing out on the floor. CANONICALLY suicidal. jesus christ. but he’s ALSO still Hawk Moth bitch!!! he’s goofy and campy and a ham without the weight of Being Gabriel on him. being evil is awesome and fun actually. torment and hatred forever <3 and then they do a good job of showing how he falls further into it over time until he’s doing actually outrageous evil shit and attempting murder and going crazy and he’s SCARYY and gets the upper hand super easily and you’re like Good lord he is going to KILL these children. but then the power of love saves him because we do remember that he still has a soul. he takes the L and goes to jail while keeping his Shady Tendencies. that’s what i thought was gonna happen in the show too, once,

also i didn’t know it was a musical going in!! that was a magical surprise!! and then i was like Oh thank god they’re not making Bryce Papenbrook sing. and i was hoping and praying and begging that gabriel would get a song for obvious reasons, and also because i KNEW that if any VA was going to get to stay for that it was going to be Keith Silverstein. and sure enough he completely bodies the villain number and they even gave him a high note to hit!!! ohhh my god. INSANE moments in victor quarterdollar history. it Was weird that they dubbed cristina vee though. she does have a nice voice, i listen to her music. but other than that very good decisions across the board. exploded. died. will be watching again

[imminent-danger-came]

drop a bitterbomb about lmk or the fandom, just go ham. i am here for that mk rant

Hmmm I don't think I have a complaint about lmk itself! (Except maybe the fat clone joke, but I have my man Pigsy so it evens out for me). I really love this show with my whole heart, and though I can be bitter about some things (toh, shera, recently nimona) I do try to give things the benefit of the doubt if I can tell there's real heart and thought behind something. And lmk? So much thought goes into this show, you can feel how talented these writers are!

As for the fandom. *Ahem* *Gets on top of my soap box.* This is a lot of power you've given me.

Like I said in my tags, MK is so often relegated to the role of "therapist" it's shocking. I think a lot of folk view MK and Steven (from Steven Universe) as the same character, and while there's fun similarities, MK is very different from Steven. Steven is definitely the group therapist and ends up having to be the most emotionally mature of all the crystal gems, struggling to keep everyone above water. MK on the other hand has to rely an incredible amount on everyone around him, rarely being the one to actually give comfort himself. MK just also isn't really a character with a "I can fix them" mentality. He's not going out of his way to redeem anyone, except the person in front of him who he thinks can help save his friends/the universe.

Maybe this is a bold take, but I view MK as someone who would choose his friends over the world (he also literally does so in 4x02). He is not a selfless world-first kind of hero, which makes his guilt over getting the world in trouble all the more delightful to watch.

So, it's always surprising to me when I see MK being the one to comfort other characters (namely Red Son and Macaque), when Mei is LITERALLY right there. Our hopepunk shonen protag girly. She's the one to usually do the comforting (along with the rest of the gang), but I think in general a lot of people sleep on Mei.

Which brings me to my second rant: another thing that's kind of disappointing/annoying about the fandom is how pretty much Sun Wukong and Macaque are the only two characters, with MK as a third to promote some kind of interaction between the other two. Sometimes I play a game with myself of seeing how far I can scroll the lmk tag before I see a post about only Sandy.

Which, lmk has such a wonderful cast of characters, it's kind of sad seeing fan content only about Wukong and Macaque—now don't get me wrong, I also love those monkeys, but there's also a lot more characters to explore! Mei is one of my favorite characters, and I think Tang has one of my favorite arcs in the show (3x08 is such a good episode. I am also a big fan of 4x03).

And, god. For all the fan content about Wukong and Macaque those two definitely get the brunt of the blorbofication.

In canon? They're very flawed and fucked up immortals who have hurt themselves and others. But in the fandom? UWU Precious sad boys who blush. It's kind of maddening. Originally I had a lot of people mad at me in my notes for thinking sweet boy Sun Wukong knew MK was a monkey the whole time/involved in MK's creation. Like. I legitimately can not believe there was discourse on twitter about Wukong being a "deadbeat dad". Have you seen this man. Hello. He's an asshole, but he's our asshole, and he tries.

[squadrah]

prosciutto/ghiaccio for ideal ship dynamics!

"Send me two characters and I will tell you what my ideal ship dynamic is for these characters!"

Rubbing my hands together because this has been a long time coming, probably ever since I had been on Twitter toying with the idea that I headcanon Ghiaccio as younger than most of the team, around Pesci's age, and I posited that Prosciutto being a mentor figure, he might have mentored Ghiaccio when he first joined. I even wanted to write fic about an altercation where Prosciutto had to get through to him with brute force, but then things finally clicked for everyone and Ghiaccio started feeling more like part of the gang.

Now, the thing is, Ghiaccio strikes me as someone who is in great need of validation. In this he is similar to Pesci, but while Pesci can easily get validation by being earnestly self-conscious, Ghiaccio is less gifted in that way, so it's harder for him to garner sympathy, let alone have someone agree with him and support him. Nor would he take it from just anyone: respectability in his eyes would go a long way. Pesci or Formaggio praising him would have very little effect that way, but Prosciutto? Now there is a stone cold professional, and he just happens to be very physical on top of it. What I'm saying is, have him pap Ghiaccio's cheeks at the right time, with the right kind of validation, and Ghiaccio would fall pretty hard and fast for that extreme dopamine hit of being praised by someone whose praise is worth the earning!

On top of this, Prosciutto is an enabler. He is always encouraging Pesci and nudging him in the right direction, which is usually professional violence. He would absolutely tell Ghiaccio that there is no need to hold back, that violence IS the answer if someone tosses their cigarette butt at your feet or cuts in front of you in the line, and the results would be spectacularly terrible. These two are easily the most deadly and destructive Stand users on the team, and they would push each other towards maximum execution. To the point where Risotto would say, THANK YOU BUT THAT IS ENOUGH I WILL TAKE OVER HIS TRAINING BEFORE YOU DESTROY NAPLES.

That wouldn't stop them from going ham on missions though and then make out like wild beasts.

[boygiwrites]

Harley D. Dixon 11

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

📖Chapter List.

Author's Note. I'm sorry for the long wait, but at least this chapter is a lengthy-(ish) one, at 6,200 words! :)

Please enjoy!

A twig snaps.

When I open my eyes, it's still night-time. The moon bathes the forest floor in a pearly blue light, just bright enough for me to make out what's happening when I lift my head from the tree roots. A bulky, black silhouette groans loudly as it staggers toward the tree. A walker. A big walker, wearing a white cap. Just as I suck in a breath, ducking back down to hide, it trips over its own two feet and lands on its stomach like a big, fat seal, on top of the entanglement of roots. It lazily claws down at me with its grey-ish hands through the gaps.

I feel around for a rock, pulling one out from the dirt. I toss it away from the tree. I hear it tumble down the hill. The walker gives it a slow backwards glance, but little-girl-meat must taste a whole lot better than rocks, 'cause he turns his attention right back onto me.

He resumes moaning.

Darn.

Looks like I'm stuck with this jerk until he leaves on his own.

"Goodnight, I guess."

I close my eyes, settling back down in the dirt to try get some sleep as he flails above me.

Morning comes.

My eyes flutter open at the first sign of daylight. It filters past the roots like white-gold ribbons, onto my face. I slowly come to. I almost expect to be back in Dad's truck, wrapped up in the fish-print blanket, but the dream quickly vanishes when my skin begins to itch and my back begins to hurt. Right. The woods. The mosquitos. The ditch beneath the tree. I'm still lost and alone. I hear birds twittering in the trees.

Dirty and exhausted, I sit up.

My new friend, the asshole-walker, moved a little in the night, I see. He's rolled over onto his side, laying dormant.

I sigh, my eyes heavy. If only he did that last night.

I take my time crawling out from underneath the tree, and then I stand all the way up and stretch out my arms— God, that feels real good — and then my legs — That feels even better — and gaze out over the misty greenery around me. Wow. I made it through the night. A good start. I walk down to the stream and rinse my bug bites in the cool water, enjoying the way it burns. I'm thirsty, I realize, as I watch the water bubble past. I can't drink it, though, 'cause this is where foxes and birds and frogs poop and pee all day, and it'll make me sick. I can use the mud, though. It's thick, and runny. I smear it over my face and my neck, 'cause it's gonna get hot today, and I'll burn easily.

I pick the twigs and leaves out my hair.

When I look back up the shallow hill, I see the walker is on its feet.

"Fuck you," I call out to it, and then turn on my heels.

I follow the stream for hours.

The sun climbs in the sky.

My Dad got lost in the woods, too, once.

The way Grandpappy Dixon always told it, my Dad went missin' for nine whole days as a child. He ate wild berries, drank pond-water, and wiped his butt with poison oak to survive, and when he eventually stumbled his way back home, the first thing he did was walk straight into the kitchen and make himself a ham and cheese sandwich. My Pappy used to say that Dixons are like cockroaches. They're tough, they're mangy, and just when you think they're gone, they pop right back up again. I'm a Dixon, just like my Dad. I know how to find North, and I know which mushrooms will make ya go green and puke your brains out, and which ones won't. It's been one day for me so far. The only difference is I got people lookin' for me. I'd call that an advantage.

I also know what poison oak looks like. Three leaves, notched edges. No way I'm makin' that mistake. Ouch!

I scale a small mound that clings to the bank of the stream, sweating through my shirt like a hog. I was right. It's gettin' real hot today.

When I stand, I notice a still, black lump amongst the underbrush.

I decide to check it out.

I push back a fern, revealing the lump.

It's a really, really old walker.

Its body is shrivelled and thin like a rotten fruit skin, and it's laying on its back, staring up at the sky with glazed eyes, with its entire chest cavity torn to shreds around it. It's innards hum with flies, gooey and black like thick tar. I almost retch. It smells like every type of yoghurt in the world got mixed with dead fish brains.

I look around the tiny clearing.

I see boot-prints leading to and from the corpse.

Oh. The group.

This must have been them.

Eugh. Why?

I also see tiny bones littered around the place, which prolly came from the walker's stomach, which is flipped inside out on its thigh, which makes me gag. It looks like it's been sliced. They cut open its stomach and pulled out the bones, I realize, which deserves another gag. It's nasty, but at least they saw that none of the bones were Harley-sized. They know this walker didn't eat me up.

Disturbed, I find my way back to the stream and push on.

No walker's gonna eat me up.

I ain't never killed a walker, but I done killed a lotta other things.

Startin' small, I killed plenty of bugs before. Easy, peasy. Movin' up the food chain a little, I shot a rat with a sling shot, before. Its itty-bitty brain exploded around the pebble I flung at it, and that was that. Crunch. Dead. Then, fish. Lots of fish. So many fishing weekends. Apparently, fish don't got no feelings, so that makes it easier. Then, squirrels and possums. My Dad always makes me finish those off when he can, 'cause he says it makes me tough, and I ought to be tough. I don't like the sinking of the blade through their fluffy pelt, or the sad little squeak that comes when they die, but that's just how it is. It's how we ate when money was tight. Then, biggest of all, there's a walker. A full-grown, human person.

I haven't made it there, yet.

My Dad hasn't taught me to kill walkers like he's taught me to kill game. I know what to do in an emergency — You gotta stick 'em in the brain, Harley — but that's it. An emergency hasn't happened, yet, 'cause my Dad's always been there to kill 'em for me.

I won't let anything happen to you, I remember Shane telling me.

I bet he's already found a way to blame this all on my Dad.

I wonder if they've fought today.

Sophia's doll.

I find it caught on a branch in the water.

Dizzy from the heat of the sun, I stumble into the stream to try and fish it out.

By now, it's around mid-day, and I've tied my hair back into a pony-tail, soaked my shirt through with water about two miles back to try cool myself down, and scratched my mosquito bites completely raw. I've eaten a handful of wild raspberries and drank some water from a hole I dug adjacent to the stream, 'cause that's how you filter out the animal-germs, but I'm beyond tired. And against my best efforts, a little sun-burnt, too, all over my upper body. There's been no sign of anyone since the mutilated walker, but this— This is Sophia's doll. It's got orange yarn for hair, and two giant, blue buttons for eyes. It's definitely hers.

Matilda, I think she named it.

I lean over the fallen branch and pull the soggy doll out.

"Hi, Matilda. You're lost, too?"

I wonder if Sophia dropped her while searching.

"Don't worry." I smile, tucking her wet hair behind her round ears; petting the mud off her patchwork dress. "I'll get us both back."

I climb back outta the stream.

"This way, Matilda."

"Karma, karma, karma, karma, karma chameleon!"

I come to a sudden stop sometime in the afternoon.

"You come and go, you come and go-o-o."

That's music. Like... from a radio. As the static-y popstar voice continues singing loving would be easy, if your colors were like my dreams, I step through the dry foliage in the direction it's coming from and come across a tiny, green tent. The owner is nowhere to be seen, but the radio hasn't had time to run out of battery, so they might still be nearby. I scan the trees. No one around.

I cautiously step inside the tent.

There's the radio.

"Karma, karma, karma, karma, karma—"

I search around.

There's also a sleeping bag and a backpack. I sift through it for food or water, but there's only junk in here. A book, a crucifix, another music cassette tape, rope, and... And a steak knife. I pull it out, turning it over in my palm. It's the exact same as the ones in Dale's kitchen drawers.

Black handle, gold button.

This.. I recognise this.

Jim.

This is Jim's knife. This is knife we left him with.

That's the same rope, too.

"Oh, my God."

I back out, taking the knife with me. I take in the camp again with new eyes, feeling alarmed. The cap resting on the stump by the fire, that's Jim's, too. Those foot-prints, those discarded boots — They're both about the right size. Over there, too, that's — That's the peanut butter jar.

It's all Jim's.

This is Jim's camp.

He's alive.

"I'm a man, without conviction!"

If he's alive, he's gonna be real angry with us.

"Karma, karma, karma, karma, karma chameleon!"

I ca— I can't be here.

I spin around and dash straight for the thicket, more than ready to leave this camp far, far behind, but I run into something — Fabric, and string, a makeshift washing line — and as I'm tryna untangle myself from it, a pair of hands shoot out from the other side. They latch onto me. The shirts are ripped off the line as I struggle against them. I can't help it — I scream, and I scream loud. It's Jim, it's Jim, it's— No, no it's not Jim. It's not even a person. It's grey skin and bruised nails and yellow eyes and puffy gums, and jaws snapping in my face.

It's a walker.

It's wearing a white cap.

It's the same one from last night. It's been following me through the forest all day.

It slams me into the ground.

I brace my arms against the heavy walker's chest, crying out in pain. Underneath me, wetness begins to bloom. Then, pain. Searing, searing pain. As I writhe, I drag around a trail of blood that stains the dirt a dark maroon. I look at it, panicked. I can feel a deep slice in my flesh.

I-I think I landed on the knife when I fell.

God, it hurts. It hurts real, real bad.

The walker hisses like a feral cat.

My fingers slide against its slippery, bloody skin as I grapple with it, kicking, kicking, kicking its stomach, and hitting, hitting, hitting its chest. The skin comes apart as easily as layers of lasagna. It peels off and falls onto my bare neck — Oh my God, yuck, yuck, yuck! — and my fingers sink deeper into the soft meat underneath. Cold, red sludge drips down onto my cheek. I turn, squirm; clamp my mouth shut. I use all my might to keep the walker's weight offa me, but I can't keep this up forever.

The knife. Where's the knife?

I dropped it somewhere.

I throw my hand out and feel around for the knife. My arm buckles under the walker, which drops closer to my face, growling and twitching just an inch from my nose. That's a leaf. That's a twig. That's the tin. Come on, come on. The knife. I need the knife.

I squeal when my foot suddenly breaks through the walker's belly.

Slimy entrails slide down my leg.

I moan miserably.

That's a twig.

That's another twig.

That's— 

That's a knife hilt.

I wrap my fingers around it.

I have to kill this thing now.

With a violence I don't recognise, I swing the knife all the way down into the base of the walker's neck and then again, and again, and again, and again, again, again, in the collarbone, and the cheek, and the throat, and the shoulder, and then the soft membrane of the under-jaw, which splits open like a water balloon and splatters me with more sticky blood, like cold, chunky soup, and again, again, and again, in the chin, and the nose, and the forehead, but not the brain, 'cause the skull is just too thick to break through. I think about all the times I've heard of skulls breaking, like in car crashes, and I think, why can't you break again, just break now. I drive it into the scalp, again, again, again, but it doesn't work. You gotta stick it in the brain, Harley. I gotta get the brain. I gotta.

The meat hanging from the walker's jaw vibrates as it gurgles at me.

"Come on!" I grind out, losing my strength.

This is when somebody like Rick or Dad or Shane would step in and end it for me, in this moment right before death, but nobody's here to save me this time. I have to save me.

I cry out once more.

The knife squelches through the walker's eye socket.

I drive it deeper and deeper and deeper, until the blade reaches the sweet spot, and pink brain-slime comes leaking out. I twist it and I twist it and I twist it, forcing the razor-edge up into the socket, until the hilt starts to disappear, until my hand starts to disappear. Until— 

Until the walker gives out one last croak.

It slumps over into the dirt.

It's dead.

I scramble away, clutching the knife, shaking.

My first walker kill. It weren't nothin' like killing a damn squirrel, not even a little bit, not by a mile. It ain't squeaked. The damn thing squelched. It had layers of skin and meat and bone and cartilage, and I felt them all with my bare hands, and I killed it.

I killed it all on my own.

"I killed you." I laugh, elated. "I killed you! Fuck you!"

Hell yeah!

My side suddenly pangs again, making me groan.

I peel my bloody shirt back.

"Oh, God."

It's a gash, alright. I won the fight, but now I'm gonna have to drag myself through the woods, alone, with this crippling wound in my side. I groan as I take off my shirt. It's still wet. It's bloody, too, now, so I throw it away. As my vision blots, I pick up a new one off the ground and lethargically pull it on, wanting so badly all of a sudden to just lay down and go to sleep. I can barely keep my eyes open.

I cradle my side as I stand.

Chunks of walker-flesh fall off my leg.

There's blood in my hair, on my face, on my neck, on my hands.

I look around for Matilda, 'cause even though I'm about to faint, I know I don't wanna leave her behind. Sophia needs her. I find the doll laying by the fire and pick her up, leaving behind a bright red hand-print on her pretty tartan dress by accident.

"Oh," I pant, shaking my head. "I'm sorry."

"Red and go-old! Red and go-old!"

I hug Matilda to my chest.

"It's okay. Carol will wash it."

The radio continues singing its happy tune as I stagger away.

The hours blend together in a long, hot slurry of sweat, heat, and blood. Barely conscious, I stumble alongside the stream, holding my bleeding side. I have to be close, by now. I've been walking for hours. I focus on my breathing. I focus on walking. I focus on keeping the setting sun on my left shoulder, to ensure I'm headed North. I think I can hear church bells ringing through the forest at some point, but I'm not sure.

It's all so confusing.

Next thing I know, my knees are hitting the ground.

It takes me a while to figure it out, but I realize that I've fallen down a small slope and landed in a watery ditch filled with reeds.

Cold water trickles silently past my hot skin.

I gaze up at the orange sky.

It's nice here. It's so nice here.

I let my exhaustion seduce me into closing my eyes.

I need rest.

I can... I can rest for a minute.

"You don't gotta follow me out here, man."

"I know."

When I open my eyes, woken by the sound of voices, it's night-time again. I must've slept for a long time. My entire side aches when I roll onto my back, trying to see what's going on up there. Through the thin shoots of grass, I glimpse a band of white flashlight illuminating the distant trees.

Those— Those voices. I'd recognise them anywhere. It's my Dad and Rick.

I listen to their foot-steps crunch through the underbrush with a grin on my face.

"You can't drag me back to the highway, so yer gonna babysit me instead? That it?"

"Well, you know I'd prefer you get some rest, like everyone else." Rick replies. Never thought I'd say it, but it's so good to hear his stupid voice. "Trying to, at least. We've been searching non-stop, for I don't even know how long. We can't afford anyone else gettin' lost out here, especially in the dark. Even Shane settled down, eventually, and you know how he's been."

I hear Dad scoff. "Yeah, well, there's no way I'm takin' a fuckin' granny nap while my daughter's lost in the woods."

"Trust me, I'm done tryna convince you. Hence, the babysitting."

"To Hell with Shane, anyway, man." Dad says. "Don't need him out here."

"What the deal between you two, anyway?"

"Whatchu mean?"

"I mean, look at you. Shane gave you a black eye today. He wouldn't do that for no reason."

"Yeah," Dad sighs tiredly, "Well, I gave him a broken nose, and I wouldn't do that for no reason, neither, so think about that."

A black eye?

A broken nose?

They did get into a fight today.

"Okay, I'll think about it. I'll think about it aloud, even." Rick concedes. My Dad huffs but lets him continue speaking. "Since you joined us, you and Shane have avoided each other like the plague. You work well together — I've seen it — but as people, you don't get along so great. That's how it used to be. Suddenly — As in, this is the first time I'm seein' this — You're throwin' hands for no reason, in the middle of the night. Black eye, broken nose. I mean— Well, it just don't make any sense to me, is all I'm saying. Like I said, Shane ain't like this, usually."

"You must not know your buddy so well, then." Dad retorts. "'Cause he's a piece of work."

"Oh, no denyin' that." Rick chuckles flatly. "But I don't know why you're so insistent on buttin' heads right now. Especially right now."

"Hey." My Dad's voice gets louder. "I'm out here right now, runnin' on two hours'a sleep with a busted face and a fucked-up eye, combing these woods for my lil' girl — Who if I recall right, is lost 'cause of your fuckin' super-plan — So don't go tellin' me I ain't got my priorities straight, man. If I beat Shane up, it's 'cause he fuckin' deserved it. You heard the shit he said t'me, you would'a done the same. Father to father, I know that."

"H— What? What'd he say to you?"

"He said it's my fault Harley's out here." Dad snarls. "Said I don't protect her right. Said I ain't a good father to her."

Rick stammers. "Wow. That's both... way outta line, and not true at all. He's got no right to say those things."

That makes Dad almost laugh.

"Nah, man." He scoffs. "Nah, you don't know."

Nobody knows. Nobody besides me, Shane, and my Dad knows about what happened at the CDC.

"I do know." Rick insists, oblivious. "No, I'm bein' serious here. Listen. I've seen you with her. You'd do anythin' do protect her. 'Sides, you said it yourself. You're out here right now, even when others aren't — Even when it jeopardizes your own safety. A lesser man, lemme tell ya, would not be out here in the state you're in. I don't even know how you're still standin', to be honest."

Dad brushes him off. "Nah, you don't get it. It's not— It ain't about that."

"What's it about, then? 'Cause from where I'm standing, I— I honestly struggle to see what Shane's talkin' about."

"Wait."

Their foot-steps come to a sudden stop.

I hold my breath.

"Those are new tracks." My Dad mutters.

My eyes widen.

"You think it's—?"

"It's Harley." He says definitively. "Look. This set go South. This set's comin' our way. She's been following her own tracks back."

There's a pause, like they're shell-shocked and can't quite speak.

Yes. Yes, I have been followin' my own tracks. I slept in a ditch, and I walked for hours, and I killed my first walker and stabbed myself, and then I walked some more, and I'm tired. I'm so, so tired. I can't wait to go home. I can't wait to go back to the group. I can't wait to sleep with a proper pillow and blanket. I hear Dad and Rick's foot-steps suddenly kick back up again, and more of their hushed, intense voices, becoming louder and louder as they follow my most recent tracks. I hear foliage bein' trodden on and snapped. I hear my Dad calling out, Harley, baby, we're here, where are you, and then, finally, after two long days, I see their faces.

I can't believe it.

We've found each other.

As they skirt down the hill, calling my name, I slip back into unconsciousness.

The next morning, I'm woken by sunlight dancing across my closed lids. There's a soft pillow under my head. I feel heavy blankets wrapped around my aching body, and new change of dry clothes rubbing against my skin. I'm warm, and finally, I'm safe. When I open my eyes, groaning lightly, I'm greeted with the blurry sight of the RV bedroom, draped in yellow morning light.

Rick and my Dad must've carried me here last night.

I hear someone moving to my left.

"Daddy—?"

"It's me." Shane says, sitting up. Oh. I look up at him as he reaches for my hair, tucking some behind my ear. "You're okay."

My side pangs suddenly, making me groan again.

I lift up the covers, and then my shirt, revealing a patch of fresh bandages taped to my waist.

Shane shushes me. "Hey, easy."

They cleaned it up pretty good. There's only a small flower of blood stained through the cotton-y material.

"Hurts," I croak, closing my eyes.

"I bet." Shane soothes. "You got stitches under there."

I open them again. "Stitches?"

"Yeah. It's okay. You were in pretty gnarly shape when we gotcha; gash is real deep. Jacqui made quick work of it, though." He says, smiling lightly. "Nothin' we can do about the bug bites. Just gonna have to put up with 'em for now, but you're tough. I know you can do it."

Exhaling thinly, I slowly nod.

I take a minute to look at Shane like this.

A strip of white gauze is plastered over the bridge of his nose, which sits on an awkward, crooked angle. He notices me starin', but doesn't make me look away. He doesn't explain how it got broken, though, either. He just strokes my hair, letting me come to my own conclusions.

"Dad hit you." I whisper, stating it as a fact.

I heard Rick say so, last night.

Me and Shane have barely talked since that day in the parking lot. It's strange to say that we're friends, now, but we are.

He pulls his hand away. "Who told you that?"

I shrug.

He frowns lightly, eventually nodding. "Yeah, he did."

"You hit him back."

Again, he simply says, "Yeah, I did."

I could ask him why, but I already know that, too.

As the silence stretches on, his gaze drifts from my face, down to the floor. He leans forward to pick something up. It's Matilda. They brought her back, too. He holds her for a minute, looking over her orange hair and her green dress — Still covered in my blood — and then he hands her to me, muttering that she fell off the bed during the night. He watches me hug the doll to my chest with a distant sort of look in his eye. I wonder if he feels guilty, but he's prolly just tired. I heard Rick say they were searching for me non-stop these past two days, and that includes Shane.

It looks like he stayed awake all night, too, waiting by my bedside, which for some reason, my Dad didn't.

"Let me get you somethin' to eat." Shane murmurs.

He stands to leave, squeezing past Carol on his way out.

She stands in the doorway, looking at me with tender, puffy eyes. She glances at Matilda. I think she's been crying.

"You found Sophia's doll?" She asks me quietly.

Yeah, I did. I nod.

She comes to sit beside me on the bed, smiling weakly.

"May I?"

I hand her the doll.

"I'm sorry I got blood on it." I mutter. "It was an accident."

She shakes her head, breathing shakily.

"Don't be sorry, sweetie. We're just glad you made it back to us in one piece."

"Can I give her back to Sophia now?"

Carol takes a deep breath. "I don't think you can. Not right now."

Oh. "Why not?"

"Because, sweetie," Carol says, placing a little kiss on Matilda's cheek, and then facing me again, on the brink of tears, "After you were able to escape into the forest — After the herd passed — Sophia ran after you." That makes my eyes widen. Sophia ran after me? Into the woods? Carol purses her lips, so tight it must be painful. "Yes. Your Dad, Rick, Shane — They were already chasing after you, but Sophia just wouldn't give up. Sh— She broke away from me before I could catch her, and we— We haven't seen her since. We haven't seen her. We haven't."

Carol breaks down into squeaky, tiny sobs, clutching the doll to her forehead.

I don't know what to say. I had no idea that the whole time I was missing, Sophia was missing, too.

"I— I found the doll in the creek." I say, feeling unhelpful. "I don't know where exactly, but... In the creek."

Carol nods. "Thank you. Thank you, sweetie. I'll tell them."

"I'm sorry."

I'm sorry I can't help more. I didn't see any other signs of Sophia out there.

Sophia, lost and alone, just like I was — Except Sophia's never learnt how to find North. Sophia's never learnt which plants are safe to eat, or how to out-run a walker. She doesn't know how to start a fire from nothin', or how to wring a rabbit's neck. She doesn't know the stuff I know.

She doesn't have the same chances that I had, which were pretty darn low to begin with.

Carol puts her hand on my knee. "You've got nothing to be sorry for, Harley."

"I— I wanna look for her."

"You can't." She soothes. "You're hurt."

"Sophia might be hurt."

"Nobody's gonna let you look," Carol tells me, "So there's no point in arguing. You know, your Dad has been worried sick about you this whole time. He pretended he wasn't, but it was obvious. He didn't care about anything other than finding you. I saw him maybe one or two times these past couple days, because he's been in those woods for hours on end. Dale's been blaming himself for letting the herd get to us while he was distracted. Shane's been... a mess. Then, last night, your Dad and Rick came running back to the highway with you, and they were barely hanging on. They were covered in mud, in blood — Your blood — in sticks, leaves, scratches. They ran with you for five miles, Harley." Carol frowns. "It's a miracle you're with us. Trust me when I say nobody's letting you back out there anytime soon."

I lower my head, fiddling with the blanket seams.

Carol changes the subject by gently asking, "What happened out there?"

I look up at her.

"I... I just kept walking, I guess."

That's all I did. I walked, and walked, and walked. I wonder if that's what Sophia's doing.

"And I killed one of the dead people."

I can still feel his cold flesh sliding against mine, and how he smelt like old steak.

Carol stiffens.

"Sophia prolly won't run into any." I shake my head. "There was only one."

"Where there's one," She whispers, "There's a hundred."

I stay quiet.

Shane comes back in through the door, holding a bottle of water and some snacks.

"Here you go, sweetheart," He says to me under his breath. "Gotta eat if you want your strength back."

I take the yoghurt-granola bar and the packet of pretzels, but the thought of eating makes my stomach churn. 

"Where's my Dad?" I ask instead.

He's the first person I expected to see when I woke up.

"He's still out looking." Carol answers, sighing. "After he found you, I thought I would've had to beg him to look for Sophia, but I didn't. He went on his own. I'm sure it's nothing, sweetie. He's just worried about Sophia, just like we all are, and he's going to find her. I know it."

My Dad's never shown concern for anyone other than his blood. I don't think he's as worried about Sophia as Carol thinks he is, 'cause I know him better than she does. I think back to the conversation I heard last night, and how my Dad almost admitted to Rick the reason he and Shane haven't been seein' eye to eye recently — Almost admitted to hitting me. I wish he would talk to me about it, instead of Rick, but that's not how my Dad operates. I know why he's still out in those woods. He's doin' anything he can to keep avoiding talking to me about the CDC, especially after the beating Shane gave him.

A wake-up call, is what it's called, I think. Shane gave him a wake-up call. Dad's bein' challenged, for the first time in his life.

Shane looks at me. I can tell he knows exactly what I'm thinking. He knows I've figured it out — Figured him out.

"I thought I told you not to help."

Shane goes still.

He glances at Carol, who frowns in confusion.

"What do you mean?" She asks me.

Please don't help, I begged him that day, Please don't do nothin'. Our conversation got cut off when Dale interrupted us, but I wish it hadn't. I wish I made myself more clear. Shane established that I'm allowed to be his friend, but he ain't established my Dad bein' the scum of the Earth, like I know he wants to. He prolly convinced my Dad that's what he is, which is why he's guilty, but he won't convince me. I'll be his friend, but I don't need this.

"I told you not to help." I repeat, a little harsher. "But you hit him, anyway."

"I— I did." Shane calmy nods. "After he swung at me — Broke my nose — I had to subdue him. I had to hit him back."

What a load of crap, I want to argue, You prolly hit him first.

"The fight?" Carol tilts her head. "How did you hear about that?"

I tear my eyes away from Shane's.

"Right before Dad and Rick found me, I heard 'em talkin'." I tell her truthfully. "Rick said Dad has a black eye, now."

"He does." Carol hums. "But you shouldn't worry about it. It's just men bein' men. Right, Shane?"

We both look at him expectantly.

"That's right." He agrees, tense. He's lucky Carol's so clueless, and just gave him an out. He claps his hands. "Now, how 'bout you try gettin' some'a that stuff down, and I'll see if I can't getchu some dessert for afterwards? Maybe a cookie, for our tough little cookie, here, huh?"

Carol smiles warmly. "One tough cookie, alright. Dragged yourself all the way back here with that gash in your side."

I try to smile back. "Uh-huh."

"Alright, then. Let's give her some space." Shane says.

Carol stands, tucking Matilda in besides me with great care. She strokes the doll's hair, and then mine. She even gives my cheek a kiss.

Shane nods her out the door.

After she leaves, he lingers there.

"You told me we could color together." He randomly reminds me. "I reckon I wanna take you up on that offer, later, if that's alright wit'chu."

Oh. He does? This is the first time he's brought this up since I decided he could be my friend, which I told him meant he could color with me, and do my hair, and play games with me. I don't know why he's decided so suddenly that he wants to do this. Maybe it's because my Dad is away.

I think about it for a time, but then I nod.

I don't see the harm in coloring.

Slowly, I nod.

He grins a little.

"I'll send Jacqui in to have a look atcher side in a little while." He says, before nodding, seemingly pleased. "Alright. See ya later, Harley."

"See ya later."

I hear him walk away.

Shane's got a way of makin' me like him, even when I don't wanna.

After I force down three bites of the granola bar, I lay back down, pulling the blankets up to my chin.

Matilda stares back at me with her giant button eyes.

"I'm sorry, Sophia." I murmur.

A short while later, I get a visitor.

"Somebody has a present for you." Lori sing-songs quietly as she guides a nervous-looking Carl into the bedroom. He clutches a large canvas bag to his chest, squeezing it tightly like a teddy-bear. There's a slight sunburn underneath his freckles, and a scab on his eyebrow, but he made it out of the herd just like everyone else did. I don't know Carl so well, but I'm real glad he's alright. I think he's sad about Sophia, and sad about me, too, 'cause his eyes begin to water the longer he stares at me. Lori rubs his back. "Off you go, baby."

He takes slow, calculated steps toward me, and stops about a foot away from the bed.

I notice him glancing at Matilda.

I tell him, "I'm gonna keep her until we can give her back to Sophia."

'Cause we're gonna find her. We're gonna.

He sniffles, nodding.

He likes that idea.

"I— I kept something for you, too." He sniffles. "While you were missing."

Lori hurries over to help me sit up properly, as Carl sits on the edge of the bed.

He carefully places the heavy bag over my lap.

I lay my hands down on it, feeling it out. It's hard. It's kinda crinkly. I look up at Carl, excitedly smiling at what I think is inside.

He's smilin', too, now. "Open it."

He scoots closer as I flip the bag open.

I laugh.

"No way! You got it!"

It's the Pokémon folder, in all its sparkly, yellow glory. The blood on the cover has been wiped away. It looks almost brand-new again, untouched by the horrors of that deadly afternoon. On the name-tag sticker, which was previously blank, is now written in bulky but neat letters, Harly Dikson.

"I had to ask your Dad how to spell your name." Carl says. "But he wouldn't answer. I hope I got it right."

Carl's never been good at spelling. The thought makes me laugh even harder.

Suddenly, I'm hugging him.

He hugs me back.

"He's been very eager to give those back to you." Lori smiles, her hip cocked as she watches on fondly. "He even slept with 'em the first night."

Carl pulls back. "Mo-om!"

She holds her hands up. "Sorry. Embarrassing?"

"It's okay." I giggle. I pull the Lugia card out of my pocket and show it to him. "I did, too."

He gets immediately excited again. "Woah! Another GX card!"

"Yep!"

"Here we go." Lori rolls her eyes.

We spend about half an hour going through the cards and snacking on pretzels together on the bed.

It's as we're on the last page that Lori gently takes hold of my shoulder.

"Harley," She says to me, "I know you're both having fun here, but I think it's time we all got together and... talked about what happened to you in those woods... Okay? We all think it's a good idea. We've been waiting to know ever since you got back, and... Carol says you killed a walker." She smiles tightly. "Would you like to go speak to us about everything? Get it off your chest? Maybe... help us piece everything together?"

I get the sense I don't got a choice in this. They need to understand what I went through; what signs of Sophia I came across.

She senses my answer, and stands, urging Carl out the door.

No more Pokémon cards. 

Time to talk about Jim, and the stabbing, and the church bells, and everything else I endured in those Hellish woods.

I just wish my Dad would come back.

Author's Note. For some reason, I ssssstruggled with this chapter. Like, a lot. It's always the most random chapters that seem to kick my ass. Maybe it's because Harley was alone for the majority of it. I tried to make it interesting, nonetheless.

And here is the beginning of Sophia's whole shtick 🫥

Thank you for your patience, and I really hope you enjoyed reading this one!! <3