#rj probably draws

[edaworks]

Well, my meds are on backorder and I think the barometric pressure swing is screwing with me too, so please welcome “need to keep hands occupied during business calls” mspaint.exe RJ

ugh I just want to feel like I’m not under 10 feet of water and my head to not be stuffed with cotton balls

[seeminglydark]

as much as i don’t like how they treat Caro, i’m kinda curious about their parents…

What to say about Robert and Claire Greensboro. Upper middle class, picket fence house. Rob works as an investor, Claire is a Wine Mom (re: functioning alcoholic in this case) and former beauty queen herself. Their marriage is more of an arrangement, Claire wanted a certain type of life, and Robert wanted a beautiful wife. They both desperately wanted a Boy, but ended up with Caroline (the irony here is outrageous.) When they have trouble keeping up with the Jones, and rack up credit card debt and take out a second mortgage on the house, they audition baby Caro for a tv commercial and what do ya know, there's something special about that kid afterall. Turns out that Caro is a winner automatically at so many things. Pageants, auditions, modeling contracts, and it only gets better the older Caro gets. They go from a disappointment to having a purpose, the ticket to funding their parents lifestyle.

Love just isnt on the menu here, but when Caro is young they do everything they can to try and win it. Their parents are both master manipulators, dangling the promise of happiness or love and yanking it out of reach when Caro doesn't do things just right. Its always something.

The only 'good' thing is when Caro gets a bit older. Their dad likes to go on fishing trips with his neighbor, O'Sullivan. And their mom has lovers, and is usually drunk, so it gets easier to sneak out and see Sully and the gang or do the normal things teenagers are supposed to do like hanging out with friends and going to the movies without it having to be earned. Obviously their parents are transphobic and homophobic, and they believe that Caro being trans will ruin their career, thus lose them their cash cow. They threaten many horrible solutions, but in the end, Caro leaves when they find out about a life insurance policy their parents took out on them, dollar signs are more important than their life and they aren't sure how far their parents will go to keep things the way they are.

Caros parent will show up later in life, of course they will, all apologies and offerings of love. Our hero has friends and found family now, fortunately, to support them, and are aware their parents love and acceptance is a thin veil for greed, they never expected Caro to make it this far, and now that they have, of course their parents want back in their life. These people unfortunately will probably never change.

[td-brick]

Maybe Scottgar? (As a request) :3

Also, your style is so cute!! It reminds me of pillows or lego men

Thank you!! I assume scottgar is scott/sugar so i drew them but if i'm totally wrong send me another ask and i'll draw whatever other ship you had in mind 😭😭

Ive never drawn sugar before lol

[sirmanmister]

MacCready in dad drip + Damien cuz I feel like I haven’t drawn him in a minute

This is so stupid LMAO

[havin-fun-imagining-twd]

It felt so real.

What - Yearning. Daryl misses you and your family so badly that it seems his imagination is dreaming you up to keep him from going crazy

When - big time jump to when Daryl finds himself in France (spinoff season 1, episode 2)

Where - the school in France

Pronouns - she/her (howdy, wife reader!)

TWs - language, reference to child loss, self-loathing, sappiness (it's fanfiction, y'all XD ) and Daryl gets a little...'excited' (mild instance of sexual arousal between a married couple)

Perspective - Daryl 3rd person POV

References - some are yet unpublished because this is a significant time skip, which means a few little surprises. Others can be found throughout the series!

Series? - the Slowpoke Series! It's a fun, slow time that sticks to canon to help maintain immersion (as much as you can with adding an oc lol) ;)

Can I read this chapter if I haven't started any part of the Slowpoke Series yet? - definitely

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“It's so good to hold you again, sugar.”

Those words, that voice, made him relax into the bed. She was there again! He’d last imagined her when he was being tended to by those nuns, so it was only, what, a handful of days ago?

Wasn’t enough for him, he missed her so much.

“Dare, I want them all. Full stop, every last one.���

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I knew you’d say that.”

“As if you aren’t wantin’ to take at least a handful. All those kids with just an old woman to care for them…well, now she’s dead, but…” She sighed and held him tighter. “Lou reminds me of Enid. Don’t you think they look similar? M’sorry her name had to be Lou. A lot of things over here are making you homesick, ain’t they? And that poor boy in Maine, named TJ, too.”

He pulled her closer, doing his best to not wake himself up so Y/N would stay with him. He wished that kid, with same name as his oldest, has just gone back to his girlfriend like he'd told him to.

“Our own Louise lights a candle with me for you every day. Those nuns would be proud.”

He swore to himself that whenever these dreams happen, there’s got to be some way it isn’t just all in his head. It was way too real.

It felt so, so real.

But that Louise was lighting candles for him, he knew because Carol told him when she spoke to him briefly over the radio in Maine...

“Did Carol also mention that Lydia’s been drawing you? Or did I write part that in the letter?”

“The letter. Carol and I didn't have much time to say anything.” Y/N wrote him a long, long letter. One part mentioned how both Lydia and Glenn took to getting nightmares again after he left. At Maggie’s suggestion, Lydia had been drawing his picture. Apparently it helps her feel safer.

RJ had been 'retreating more than usual,' also. Adam was acting out, too, so she wrote. If Daryl was figuring it right, the boys losing another father figure probably hadn’t helped.

“Dare, he’s three. Three-year-olds don’t only act out with foster parents, Adam would be doin’ the same with Alden. And RJ is without Michonne right now. That's the greater culprit.”

His wife also wrote how Coco just started calling her ‘mama,’ and correcting her to say ‘auntie’ wasn’t working yet. She chalked it up to her being a motherly figure and the baby assuming all caring ladies were ‘mama.’ He wondered if Gabe knew yet. Ain’t like Y/N hasn’t been a mama to that little girl since Rosita died. Actually, nah, Gabe obviously knew; Y/N would’ve (legit) run to him immediately and told him what was up.

The faces of all their kids ran through his mind over and over, Lydia and Judith and RJ included. Then his wife’s face. Carl. Adam. Hershel. Gracie. Coco. Carol. Ezekiel. Maggie. Rosita. Aaron. Jesus. Jerry. Rick. Merle. T-Dog.

“Oo, I want to be here when T-Dog visits. Has he ever visited?” Y/N chirped.

He wished. “Once. I just think about him a lot.”

“Bummer. He must have been so thrilled when we actually did name our first after him, without you even tellin’ me nothing about how he’d teased you on it! Say, what about Uncle Jesse? Does he visit? He must’ve been happy TJ’s middle name is for him!”

He shook his head. You even visited me before I was smart enough to fall for you. When I fell down the ridge. It was you and Merle.

A sneezing from one of the kids in another part of the building resounded four times. It woke him briefly.

He closed his eyes, focused…

It was okay, Y/N was there. Daryl breathed a sigh of relief.

“I am a mite surprised you didn’t take the floor anyway,” Y/N admitted, peeking over his side to look at where the nun Isabelle was laying down next to him. “Or share with Laurent so the two sisters could share.”

“Neither of them trust me enough for me to share a room with the boy. And she sounded like she didn’t want me on the floor. Must be that I’m gettin’ too old." All I feel these days is tired and sore. "Hell, I don’t think I could get up if I slept on the floor.”

Angel, I ain’t the same without you, I’m a fucking mess. Look at the shit show that I’ve made of things.

His wife whispered, “Hey. You know I can hear that, I’m from your imagination.”

“Y/N, I miss you so fucking much.” Baby, I’m so goddamned far from you all and I don’t know how I’m gonna get out this time.

“No cusses in front of the kids, Daryl,” She cupped her belly, the one he was imagining she might have again. Carol, when she spoke to him, used what little time there was to mention how Y/N was avoiding taking a test because she missed him too much. Y/N didn’t say nothing about it in her letter she'd packed in there during one of his home visits.

How’s that for a reason to hate yourself?

“You should,” shot back another familiar voice. “Leaving your own kin, leaving your woman. Ain’t you learned nothing, boy? Didn’t think you was that much of a deadbeat but here’s proof the apple didn’t fall far from the tree."

Merle.

Damn, it’d been ages!

"Yup. Nanu nanu," his brother mocked, waving his metal stump and glaring. "Here you are, in the white flag capital of the world, surrounded by Euro kooks instead of your own blood.”

“Oh, Daryl, don’t imagine him as cruel again!" Y/N cooed. "Let us both love you if you’re gonna go about having us here.”

Daryl breathed slowly so he wouldn’t wake up. When he felt level enough, he answered, “I don’t have much control over what y’all say.”

“I thought you had some control over it.” Y/N gently pushed his hair off his face. He loved it when she did that. Delicately, she examined the new scar gracing his forehead.

“I blame that old coot what you let whup you on the head as to why you’re seeing things,” his brother crooned.

His wife nodded. “Another concussion, you poor man. But this isn’t a hallucination, it’s just a dream. It’s that good kind of dream where you’re not fully awake but not fully asleep.” She trailed her hand along his forearm.

“Y/N, you’re too good for this sad sack.”

She fired back faster than Daryl knew his imagination could go. “Merle. You love your brother to death and you’re happy he got hisself a wife and family.” Y/N had pushed herself up to sitting in order to scold him. “Tell me you don’t swell with pride seein’ him be a good father and good husband. The cycle stopped with him, and you’re proud of it.”

Daryl, a hand protectively around his wife’s side, was busy trying to figure out what Merle was even doing, whittling?

Ah, he was eating an peach with the knife attached to his metal stump.

Weird, he thought ghosts didn’t eat.

“Maybe I ain’t a real ghost, retard,” was a blunt comeback. “Maybe I’m just a poor copy you conjured up in that concussed little head of yours.” Merle then turned to Y/N. “As for you, kitten, he left you and your brats! Left you when you was up the duff, left you when you don’t even got all your legs no more! How’s he supposed to protect you when he’s out here?”

“Merle William Dixon! I ain’t ‘kitten’ and those ‘brats’ are your nieces and nephews, dick. Noah’s middle name is even for you, so you best watch your mouth, hear?”

Merle smirked and sliced off another wedge from the peach. “There’s my sister-in-law. I had to make sure your square self at least still had that fire in ya.” He offered her a slice, but she crossed her arms.

The expression on her face was so disappointed it made Daryl’s chest tug.

His brother duly inclined his head in apology and raised his hands in surrender. “You’re right, ma’am. Y’all are doing a good job on them brats. And this sumbitch ain’t nothing like our old man, so there’s something.” Merle chopped another piece of fruit. “And it’s always a pleasure to roll with a fellow amputee, Y/N. Not many can relate to how trippy the phantom limb bullshit can get.”

She tilted her head in agreement, rubbed the spot above her prosthetic calf, and settled back down next to her husband with a big sigh. “I do wish Daryl imagined you in a kinder light, Merle, but, either way, I’m happy he watched Mork & Mindy because it got him thinkin’ about you — and now you’re here for him!” Her hand grazed along her bump. “And, you meant to say to him that I was possibly pregnant.”

“Dunno about that, sister, you’ve always seem to know when you been knocked up.”

“That ain’t incorrect,” she confessed, curling in on herself. “Even if I was, it’s possible we had a loss again, Merle. Whether early or late this time.”

“Another reason he shouldn’t be screwin’ around out here.” Merle next words sliced him as if his heart were the peach in his hands. “I'm angry for your own good, lady. What if you had to handle another kid's death, this time on your own?”

The bad memories crashed down like waves threatening to drown him in grief and guilt. He wanted to pummel his brother in the hopes Merle would best him and make him pay for leaving her.

But Merle wasn't actually there. Neither was Y/N. It was pretend. Daryl was just beating himself up in his head, and failing even at that.

Y/N said the words as Daryl thought them: “Why are you twisting the knife?” She swallowed and covered her face with her hands. “Maybe, this mission is w-worth the sacrifice of, of us not havin’ him here right now.”

No. It’s not.

I know you said that before I left to make it hurt less, but it’s not. Listen to your stutter, you know it ain’t.

I should be back there with you, not constantly leaving for weeks at a time. I'm supposed to be home now. I'd told Carol when I reached her on the radio back in Maine that I'd be there in a about a week, which is what she would've told you. This whole thing is horseshit!

“Darlin’, think on happier things or you’ll upset yourself awake or into another nightmare,” Y/N soothed. "You almost woke from anger at Merle just there, which is really just anger at yourself." Her fingers laced into his where his hand rested on her belly. His wish was that his dream would include feeling the baby move. He loved that feeling. Except, he must’ve been waking up because his dream wasn’t letting him feel her hand or her belly very much when he tried. Still, it felt real enough. He’d take what he could get.

“Might could be fun to think back on how beautiful it was making them, if indeed we made another one.” She walked two fingers along his bicep. “Would’ve happened on or around the last night before you left. Or,” she mused, then started to giggle. At that moment, he could even imagine the vibrations of her laughter as if she were really, actually laying beside him. It felt so real! “I wouldn’t be surprised if made them on the day itself, that was soo — oh man, hold up!” She pulled away from him and eyed his crotch in suspicion. “No sex dreams allowed, there’s a bride of Christ in the room! Keep that thing down, deal?”

He almost laughed out loud, and possibly in real life. So long as he didn’t wake up, he didn’t care if he laughed in his sleep. The reactions, the tone, it was all just like his Y/N. And he could hope they had another kid. He’d take as many as came along.

Aw, shit, how far would she even be along, if this one made it? How long had he been away?

“Goddamn, y’all, is this some kinda kink you got?” Merle cut in. “Me and the penguin are still here, you perverts.”

“Oh hush, neither of us are actually here. Him and me aren’t doing nothin’, he just got a little aroused,” Y/N countered. “And to answer your question about another baby, Daryl, I reckon you’ll find out when you come back.” She shrugged. “Unless you reach us on a radio? Eugene is diligent about it, especially now.”

That was another thing she wrote in her letter. Eugene and his radio.

The helplessness crashed back down on him. “I’m tryin’ babe.” He didn’t want to start crying. The nun was next to him and he didn’t know if he’d be able to stop crying once he started.

Merle jeered, “Try harder, Darylina.”

He was right, Daryl needed to. He needed to try harder! What kind of washed out fuck-up was he?

“Sweetheart,” his wife called softly. Her hand caressed his cheek. It felt so, so real. “Margaret — a woman who knows the pain of losing a husband — trusted this to you because you survive. And I trusted you to go, because you’ve got the brains, the balls, and the grit. You don’t die or get bit, Daryl, no. You always come home.”

Bullshit. Not this time.

“Not bullshit. Yes, this time.” She looked to the window. “Merle, back me up.”

“Based on your track record, she’s right, little brother.”

“You may not believe you can or will,” she lifted herself up on her hands and leaned forward to kiss him. It had to have been real. It felt so, so real. But he was not about to open his eyes to see if by some miracle it was. “Despite how you feel right now, my bet is you will get that happy ending. It ain’t coincidence that Laurent said so just like our Judith did! How’s that for a reason to hope?”

Shit, he was about to break down. “Y/N, maybe I don’t deserve that. You saw the shit-show what got me here.” And there came the tears. “I left you, that’s all there is to this. I don’t deserve you.”

“Oh, that word.” Y/N wasn’t a fan of the word ‘deserve.’ “On that topic, what an honest prayer you said to bless the food! So many times you used ‘deserve,’ ugh, but,” she paused, “God loves honesty like that. Very, very much.”

She kissed his eyelids where the tears were starting to slip out, kissed the scar that never seemed to fade, then settled back against the side of his chest and curled one leg around him. With her hand, she rubbed comforting circles along his torso. “And He don’t punish or withhold, that’s just our fallen world. His hand is always out for you,” she murmured. “Say, how long do you think you can keep up with imaginin’ my theology?”

“Angel, I’m already at my limit. That’s why part of me thinks you’ve gotta be here somehow, some parts of this feel so real. Smart stuff like this ain’t in my head.”

“TJ and Georgia would call out your self-hate if they could hear you. You’d owe them a lot of quarters. Hm, and euros, seeing as you're here.”

His chest tugged at their names. “How are they?”

TJ, their oldest besides Lydia, had long hair like the little French kid here. Just one other thing that ripped at Daryl’s heartstrings to make him ache so bad for home it shocked him that he wasn’t bleeding out.

“They’re as good as gold and better. Just like their father.” That phrase he knew was from his memory because she’d said it before. “All of us miss you like crazy. Postal level.”

You shouldn’t.

“Daryl.” Her hand gripped his. There’s no way it wasn’t real. It felt so real. “When I was broken after Carl's death, and I claimed the same stuff — that you should leave me and TJ, that you needed someone better, that your life would be better if we weren’t a part of it — how much did it rip you up? ’Cause even if I hadn’t told you this before, you would have to understand how it’s tearing my insides to shreds hearin’ you think the same.”

Calm. He had to stay calm or he’d be alone again.

“I’m right,” he whispered.

“I have to disagree.”

“I —” his voice went up. He switched tactics and spoke to his brother. “Merle, talk some sense into her. I failed. This is it, this is—”

“—You did screw shit up like a royal turd, but your lady would rip my danglers off if I went along with your pretty little pity party.”

Believe it or not, the tough love helped. Felt genuine, as if Merle really was shouting some sense into him. It felt so real.

He caught his wife giving Merle an air high-five. “Thank you, Merle.”

In hindsight, Daryl figured it must’ve be because Merle, in Daryl’s imagination, had to raise his metal arm to return the five. He taunted Y/N, “You’re welcome, peg-leg.”

Dream or not, Daryl was fixing to bark, but his wife playfully kicked her own prosthetic and taunted back, “Love you, gimpy.”

His brother was smug. “Square.”

As if Y/N hadn’t heard that before.“Trailer trash.”

As if Merle hadn’t heard that before. “Goody-two shoes.”

“Two shoes? Ahem,” Y/N drawled as prim and proper as a southern belle. “Did we not just establish how I only require but one shoe these days?”

Merle slapped his thigh and cackled like a hyena and Daryl couldn’t help but do the same. Y/N joked about her missing calf like she got paid for it, pirate jokes to no end.

Daryl hadn’t felt this light in months, not even close to it since leaving home.

…And to think, it was all a lie.

All fake.

They weren’t really there. Not his wife, not his dead brother. It was all in his head.

“Oh, my sweet mangy hick. Enough moping and angst, enjoy the moment! Merle and I really did a fair job on our banter just there. And you never know, Merle could really be here, seein’ as he’s dead.”

“Y/N, I even miss bickering with ya, goddamn,” he breathed.

“It is one of our love languages. That reminds me — you’re doing great with the French, Dare!”

She can’t be serious. Or, rather, he himself can’t be serious. “Babe, I ain’t spoken a word of it. The letters don’t matter half the time. I swear, these people sound drunk.”

Merle snickered, “Hell, even I speak better French than him. Voulez vous coucher av—”

“—Well, I meant like when you used the dictionary to translate that conjugated verb.” Her voice had gone down when she said this and it sounded, well…how it usually sounded when she was turned on. “If I were there, the part where I’d push your suspenders off your shoulders would drive me wild…”

Stay calm or you’ll wake up, Daryl.

And you realllly don’t want to start a sex dream with some other chick in the room. A nun!

“Get a room, horndogs. The word was ‘conjugated,’ not ‘conjugal,’” Merle spat. “This is why you got all them kids.”

His wife made one of her signature huffs, but didn’t say nothing back to Merle. Into Daryl’s ear, she sympathized, “Being horny is so annoyin’.”

Ha. Blushing even in his dreams. Part of him wondered if he was cracking up in his sleep, too, but either way, it felt good. Felt real. It felt so, so real. “I don’t even know what ‘conjugated’ means, Y/N.”

“Yes you do, otherwise I wouldn’t say it. I’m a figment of your imagination, remember?” Aw man, why’d she have to nuzzle him in the crook of his neck? He loved it when she did that. Mmm, hot damn it felt so real… “And you know that you doin’ something like conjugating a verb in another language would be sexy to me.”

“I told y’all jackrabbits to keep your britches on. Now, Daryl: ‘conjugate’ is when you make the verb agree grammatically with the subject. You’ve heard that word before,” Merle explained. Seemed out of character. And the room looked strange, there was—it was another room now?

Daryl’s thoughts turned to when Y/N and Rosita would speak Spanish. Listening as Judith helped TJ and RJ with phonics. Watching Georgia sing to baby Louise that song Siddiq had taught her in, what language was it?

“Hey. Dummy,” Merle scoffed. “You’re driftin’ off, sweet boy. Gotta stay a teensy bit lucid if you want us here.”

So that’s why the room had just looked different. He’d been slipping.

“I still don’t get how this happens, which is why I think you’re actually here,” Daryl said to both of them. “Merle, you’re probably in…somewhere in-between.”

“What, I don’t get to be in heaven yet? Y/N, you hearin’ this uppity sumbitch?”

“He still has trouble believing in such things, Merle, especially lately. I prayed for your soul, so I got hope.”

“Thank you, sister.”

“Anytime.” Y/N looked up at Daryl and smiled. “Then what about me, dude? I ain’t dead, pinky promise. So, how is it that I come to be here?”

Yeah, he’ll be as sappy as he wants with his wife of ten years. “Maybe you’re dreamin’ about me, too.”

Merle’s kissy noises were interrupted by Daryl firmly telling him to get out after which Y/N smooched him harder than she’d had in his imagination since he’d left America. The smell of her, the sounds she made, the way she would lift her head so he could bury his face in her neck, it all felt so real.

It was when she ran her hand lower down his abdomen and almost reached his you-know-what that it all stopped cold. “Sorry! Aw, shoot — Merle! Get back in here, quick, we got carried away! Well, t-technically it was all you, Dare, but — just, please don’t get a stiffy with a nun in the room!”

“Someone should put that on a shirt,” his brother called.

“Ew, no, Merle! Good Moses, maybe I really should ought to be there if you’re startin’ to imagine messed up t-shirt slogans.” She was only teasing. “Ooh, but if I were really there I could meet little Sister Sylvie! So far, I like her.”

“I knew you would.” Daryl grinned. “The way she is with the boy, she reminds me of you.”

If only you were really here, angel.

Wait, no, I don’t want you here because you wouldn’t be safe. I need you safe.

She brought his hand to her lips. “I know what you meant, sugar.”

Unexpectedly, the nun shifted on the bed, nearly jolting him fully awake.

Slow breaths. Keep your eyes shut, do not open them!

He kept them shut tight and pictured where Y/N had been to try and keep her there.

“What am I, chopped pig’s feet?” Merle grunted.

Daryl relaxed. Merle was still there, and he got back the feeling of Y/N beside him.

“You know,” his wife considered. While she was still there, he was having trouble visualizing her. Was he still close to waking up? “That Sister Isabelle is willin’ to risk sharing a room with a strange American says a lot about how much she’ll give to protect the boy and the others here.”

“Still damn weird she didn’t just share a room, the three of ’em.”

“It is. It’s really weird.” Y/N rested her forehead on his chest. He felt the warmth of her breathing against him. If he focused really hard, he could just about imagine the feel her heartbeat, too. “Maybe she’s fixing to be the first line of defense, with all them other kids livin’ here.”

“Still weird,” he grunted. “Hey, where’d my—” He looked around in his imagination at the room. “Where’d my brother go?”

“Maybe he wanted another peach. Or, maybe you're too close to wakin’ up. Be careful, darling.”

He breathed slowly and kept his eyes locked shut. His frustration was growing. It had felt so real, why was it going away?

Calm. Stay calm so she’ll stay.

“It was also unusual,” Y/N thought, “how Sister Izzy—”

“—Sister Izzy?”

He imagined that her mouth would have twisted in embarrassment. “Yes, I’d probably definitely give her that nickname. You sure know how to portray me realistically.” She started again, “It’s unusual how she didn’t accommodate for your maybe-not-wantin’-to-be-seen-in-the-tub-by-a-nun. By anyone, for that matter. Although,” she reconsidered, “they were nurses who had to change your undies and cauterize your wound, weren’t they?” When he pictured her bottom lip beginning to tremble, he held her closer. “Oh, I hate that they all died but for two! What has this world come to? Why would those men kill them?”

That was something.

The dream got easier to maintain. He felt the curve of her waist. The rise and fall of her chest. It felt real again. It felt so, so real.

Relieved, he didn’t know what to say at first other than, “The water was cloudy enough.” When he was getting treated, bathed, doctored, how hard he wished it was Y/N doing it. Another thing that made him ache, watching them nuns give him medical attention when for the past 12 years it’d almost always been his wife.

He breathed out heavily. “Dunno, when she was in there, it wasn’t too uncomfortable.”

“The habit can have that effect on some. The crucifixes and religious artworks hopefully brought some peace, too.”

“Habit?”

“Nun outfit.”

He tried to hold her even tighter. The way it felt more real than before encouraged him, got him nearly falling off his seat with excitement that he got her back!

Except, the excitement turned into panic that he might lose this moment because he was so happy, as fake as it was.

And it sent him over the edge. Just like that, he was awake. Very awake. And alone. No Y/N, no Merle.

He blinked as the room came into focus.

None of it was real. He’d, he'd known that.

And now he was awake. Lying on some flat, shitty, tiny bed, an ocean away, in a country full of people he didn’t understand, that had walkers who burned you when they touched you, and soldiers who shot up a convent full of nuns who patched up strangers and were only trying to keep a little boy safe.

He didn’t even have his ring anymore. All he had was a snippet on a voice recorder that told the world his name and how badly he'd fucked up.

Daryl turned onto his side, the pain from his burned arm screaming at him, but he didn’t give one flying fuck. Y/N wasn’t there anymore because his stupid ass had woken up! He’d earned the pain, he needed it, he deserved it.

Quietly, he thought to hell with it and let himself weep. He was so fucking done with all this bullshit.

He wanted Y/N back. He wanted his kids back. The fuck kind of brainless jackass was he, leaving them for so long, so much? And for what?

To "see what's out there?"

As if he'd find people who had a cure?

To bring Rick and Mich home? If Rick is even alive, if Michonne is alive.

To transport some creepy French boy to a group of weirdos grasping at the hope of some imaginary friend in the sky who damns them if they don’t do all the rules in the world that He’d let go to shit as a punishment or test?

Really, was Daryl that much of a guilt-ridden jerk-off to still say yes to whatever Maggie asks him to do? It’s a hopeless fu—

“Daryl, I love you so much. Please don’t blaspheme.”

“Y/N?” I thought you was gone. No, you were gone, I woke up! “You’re back?” Holy shit, thank you. Thank you! Thank you, Whoever's up there.

That small, shy smile melted all the ice he’d just had in his heart. “Try not to wake all the way again?”

He didn’t waste any more time blubbering like an idiot, he reached for her and held on. It was still a dream, so he had to be careful to not get too excited or do anything too stimulating. And, don’t worry, he wasn’t about to willingly get a hard-on when there was a nun next to him.

He just needed to have Y/N in his arms again so he could make it through the next 5 minutes without going insane!

For 12 years, she’d been there, loving him in one way or another. For 10 years they’d been husband and wife. Without her, without their kids there, in that strange, foreign place, he was losing himself so quick it brought him to his knees with shame.

Her lips pulled away for a moment. “I wouldn’t agree that you’re losing yourself. I watched Shaney lose himself, it looked different. Daryl, I’m serious,” she insisted. “Listen: did you not save that dad and daughter even after they robbed you?”

Big whoop. “You know what those guerrilla shits would’ve done to her." The same thing that got done to you. "And those assholes would prolly have made the old man watch and killed me regardless.”

“Yeah, but you also went back to try and save that gaggle of nuns from those jar-head pieces of shit, that’s got to count for somethin’.” Wait, that was Merle’s voice. He was back, too?

Daryl looked over at the window to see his brother there once more. Merle winked. “My baby brother, the hero. Stay zen if you’re fixing to keep us here, now. Keep hittin’ that sweet spot between dreamland and the real world.”

Y/N beamed at Merle before turning back to Daryl. “And did you not help those children get the medicine, Dare? Heck, now they got access to that whole castle full of supplies and it’s so much more secure. Um, m-minus the moat full of dead ones.”

“I lied to those kids out my ass, Y/N. Lied and didn’t give a damn.”

“And you ensured none of them got hurt, then promptly admitted the lie with what I’d call purity of heart.”

“I cut that boy’s mule loose without a second thought. You see that? He loved that thing.”

“Better than to have failed to back up the cart in time, which would have happened and would have gotten all five of y’all eaten. And it was almost fast enough to escape by the looks of it. One dead mule to the benefit of four living souls is a good outcome.”

“What’d my sister-in-law say earlier?” Merle asked. “Brains, balls, and grit? Not to sound all mushy gushy, but she’s right.”

The memories of falling into that moat of walkers seized him, made him start to panic again. No brains, no balls, he almost died right in there—

“—Baby, shh,” Y/N hushed. Her arms tightly wrapped around him the way she would when his nightmares hit bad. “You survived. No bites. No burns. Not even a broken bone, I don’t know how you managed it again.” Her lips, her chest, her hands pressed against him. It felt so, so real. “But you always seem to.” She kissed him. “You’ve got brains.” Another kiss. “Balls.” A deeper kiss. “And grit. And you’re alive, sweetheart. There’s always hope as long as your heart is still beating.”

“How will I get out of this?”

“You’ll find a way,” she said with confidence. “You simply don’t know what the way is yet.”

“What do I do about the nuns?”

“Help them keep Laurent safe, of course — if you choose to do so.”

I don’t want to.

“You don’t have to,” she assured him.

I want to go home.

“And you will,” she assured him once again.

I don’t want to help them. I don’t want to. I don’t fucking want to!

…God damn it. “But I should.”

“You ain’t obligated,” Y/N responded, but with hesitation that time. “It is up to you.”

Merle was the one to point out, “It’s that conscience of yours, kid. Sometimes you just can’t help but help. I’ve been watchin’ you these past, what is it, 11 years since I got my crusty white ass killed?” He chuckled to himself as he shaved off the final bit of peach before flicking the pit away. “Can’t be too mad at it when it roped you a fine piece of ass to squeeze at night and how many kids because of it?”

“Merle,” Y/N warned.

Daryl could feel his anger rising.

“What, ain’t you relieved I can’t call you ‘sweet little virgin’ no more, son?” Merle kept egging on.

“Daryl, this isn’t really him. Don’t get angry or we’ll both disapp—”

“—So, my thinking is, Daryl, that you just won’t be able to help yourself from bringing that little sissy boy to them nutjobs —”

“Shut up!” Daryl burst out — and opened his eyes in real time. Again? Is he that much of an idiot?

His pulse was pounding. Dread and self-loathing flooded his mind, how stupid could he be?

Immediately, he squeezed his eyes shut in a desperate hope to get his wife and brother back. He focused, focused, focused, prayed, pretended, focused…

“Daryl,” came her voice.

He could hear Y/N, but not see her. It was clear that it was all him forcing the memory of her voice back. It was all in his head.

“Why bother caring that it’s in your head, sugar? Breathe slowly and focus on the feel of my body against yours. I don’t wanna leave you."

“Y/N, I need to get back,” he panted. “I can use their help to do that. Those religious people, the Union of Hope or whoever, Isabelle says they got a good radio. I need that to get back home.”

“Well, there you go! I trust you.”

He reached up to tangle his fingers where her hair would be. His imagination wasn’t letting it happen, so he focused with gratefulness that at least he could still hear her.

“Just don’t abuse their trust, and you’ll be alright,” she softly pleaded.

Don’t break their trust? “Angel, you don’t know what I did to end up in this mess.”

Of all the ways he could have daydreamed her reacting, it was that her laughter filled the room. “For the last time, my mangy hick, I am a figment of your imagination and quite literally know everythin’ inside that brain of yours. And I still love you despite that ‘shit-show’ what landed you here.”

He brought to mind the color of her eyes, wanting, wanting, begging for a miracle that would make her truly there with him so he could stare into them all night. “What would you say if I asked ‘that if I don’t find nothing, what good am I?’”

“Y/N, you can blame our raising for that shit right there,” his brother commented.

“You poor boys. Broken people sometimes make for broken kids.”

Gently, he started to perceive the way she would rub her cheek against his chest when she’d lay down with him. “Daryl? If I were here, I’d say things to try and make it stick in your head that your worth ain’t dependent on what you can offer.”

“What does it depend on, then?”

“Careful, you’re treading into religious waters now, and I ain’t sure you’ve got the bandwidth tonight. But God is involved,” she hinted.

This mess was hopeless, wasn’t it? No winning, no out, no happy ending.

“Angel, I can’t come home empty-handed.” He squeezed his eyes tighter and willed himself to not lose his cool yet again. “I can’t come home with no Rick or Michonne, no cure, no nothin’ but a burn, more nightmares, and more lives on my conscience.”

“You can,” she answered simply. “It ain’t all on you. No — please, don’t get any more upset or you’ll wake up again! Daryl, I’ve already slipped so far away!” He heard his wife begin to cry, but the sound went further and further from him. All he could see were the backs of his eyelids.

Still, he held on as best he could. “Please stay here, angel.”

“I-I would, sweetheart.”

“When I’m back, I won’t even want to leave the walls to hunt if it would mean not being next to you, d’you know that?”

“Let someone else hunt. You’ve done enough to last a lifetime.” Her voice was hoarse the way it had been when she’d said those same words to him about a year and a half ago. “More than enough. Oh Daryl, I’m so sorry we’re going.”

“Not yet, angel, please don’t!”

“Use all those things makin’ you homesick as reasons to hope. Do it for me, sugar. Get yourself home again. Don’t die, don’t get bit.”

“I won’t. I’ll get back to you. Tell the kids I love ’em?”

There was silence.

Stillness.

Daryl lay there, accepting that he couldn’t feel Y/N next to him anymore.

His throat tightened. “Angel?”

He doesn’t know why he bothered. She was gone, he knew it. He ran his finger where his ring should’ve been, if he hadn’t lost it.

“Angel,” he tried again.

Silence.

“Babe, please. Please.”

Silence.

“Y/N, please, one more time, angel.”

Silence.

The pain in him was hollow and cold.

Feeling small and helpless, he lifted his arms above his head and held back a wail of despair. He closed his eyes again and, in his head, he cried out in desperation, “Merle?”

At first, there was no answer. He hadn't expected one. Why should he?

But then he heard a quiet, low, “I’m still here.”

Merle spoke slowly and heavily, almost as if it hurt him to admit it. “I don’t think she’s gonna come back tonight, Daryl. You’ve already fallen out a few times. I ain’t gonna be here much longer, neither. You know that.”

Any strength he had left seeped out like a stab wound, leaving him crying like a child. “I can’t see you anymore.”

“I know, little brother.”

“It felt so real.”

“It sure as hell did. I think you needed it, even if it hurts like a bitch now.”

It had felt so, so real!

But it wasn’t. “I’m alone,” he choked out.

“Nothin’ you can’t handle.” For a moment Daryl could make out his brother’s face again. “You’re a tough sumbitch, so I’d advise you act like it. Quit blubberin’ like a baby and wipe the snot out your nose.”

Daryl sniffed and tried to get a grip.

“Good.” Merle’s voice began to echo. He was almost gone, too. “Now listen here: don’t die, don’t get bit. Get your ass back where you belong.”

The room came into view.

The echoing stopped.

The hollow, cold pain he’d felt at knowing they were gone there turned sharp and hot. Turns out, it was actually the throbbing in his arm. Daryl really had turned onto his side, which positioned his burned arm underneath him. He strained to get off it and flip onto his back.

You know what? The pain from his burned arm didn’t hold a candle to the ache in his chest.

Were those tears on his face, too? Guess he must’ve started crying for real in his sleep. Made sense considering how real it all felt. It all felt so real.

If only his pulse would stop racing, he felt sick.

He was getting damned old.

Instinctively, he tried to fiddle with his wedding band, which is when he recalled yet again how he’d lost it. Only a faint tan line remained.

He closed his eyes, exhausted, and chewed at his lip. Another tear or two escaped and ran hot down his cheek.

A strange part of him wished he hadn’t lied to Laurent about having a wife and family back home. At the time he said it so it wouldn't hurt as much, but…

“You deserve a happy ending, too,” the kid had told him. Just like his Judith had, when she saw how low and unworthy he begun to feel. She told her auntie Y/N, too, of course, not that his wife wasn’t unaware of how twisted his head had gotten into thinking he was no good. It didn’t feel twisted to him, it felt honest. He didn’t deserve them. They were too good.

His wife’s words to him played again in his mind. He may have just been making all that shit up in his brain, but he was only remembering a mix of real things that she’d told him before, over and over in the hopes his stupid ass would accept it one day.

“Despite how you feel right now, my vote is you will get that happy ending. It ain’t coincidence that Laurent said so just like our Judith did! How’s that for a reason to hope?”

He did need a reason. It was getting harder and harder to hold onto hope. Any hope.

So, maybe, a weird kid with long hair like TJ’s who drew a picture of some washed-up bum on a beach three weeks before Daryl showed up was reason enough to hope. He could grasp onto that.

If it would get him home, hell yeah, he could do that.

How the same weird kid told him what his niece had and what his wife had could be reason enough, too. He could grasp onto that as well, if it would get him home. He could do that for them.

Daryl ran his hand in slow, gentle circles along his stomach like Y/N would. Maybe he’d been doing this in his dream, which is why it felt so real.

It had all felt so, so real.

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

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[slasherhaven]

The Devil you Know

Otis Driftwood x Reader

CW: Typical Otis things, violence, death, threats, Stockholm Syndrome, manipulation

Not really happy with how this came out but here's a little snippet from a larger story that's been whirling around in my head for a bit!

The door creaked on its hinges, the light breeze causing it to repeatedly tap against the wall. It was open and the road was right there, stretching out endlessly. Even RJ’s truck was sitting beside the house, keys probably still in the ignition.

The door was open, the road was right there, and so was a truck. And yet your feet remained glued to the floor.

All you had to do was move, one foot in front of another. Get to the truck. Even if there were no keys, you could run. Even if it was hopeless, not another soul for miles, you could try. You should try.

Instead, you just stood in the doorway, staring out as all hell broke loose in the basement.

You weren’t completely sure what was going on down there and you didn’t want to think about it too hard. RJ had towed a car up to the house, a young couple having car troubles and needing some assistance. Some good old southern hospitality. You wished you could have warned them, but you hadn’t dared say anything. You couldn’t, not when Mama was fussing over how kind you are for bringing these strangers some refreshing lemonade. Not when Otis was still eyeing you from his seat until you set the tray down as he could pull your stiff frame down onto his lap.

They were all busy now, dealing with their latest victims. They were all busy and you were unsupervised. You could run. Should run.

You remained still. The outside seemed too vast, too impossible.

You were snapped out of your warring thoughts when a strong hand grabbed you by the arm and spun you around.

You recognized the face immediately, the man that RJ brought in. He was a large man, who seemed even larger as he loomed over you, which was probably how he had managed to get back upstairs in the first place.

Blood pounded in your ears so you couldn’t make out what he was saying. You watched his mouth moving, trying to make sense of it but he was talking too fast. Even though you could hear what he was saying, you read his expression.

He was angry. Fearful, sure, but also furious.

His grip on your arm tightened, not loosening when you flinched and hissed. It would add to the litany of bruises, you were sure.

As he tugged you towards him, you acted reflexively. You thrashed to get out of his hold and attempted to pry his hand off of you, digging your nails into his hand and arm hard enough to draw blood.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” 

You could finally make out some of his words, the harshness of them making you panic more. The feeling of being trapped, his bruising grip on your arm, the way he grabbed at you with his other hand.

“Get off me!” You fought and shouted, cheeks sticky with tears.

But this man was larger than you, stronger than you, and easily knocked the wind out of you by slamming you into the wall beside the open front door. Pinning you there.

Suddenly his grip went limp and the anger faded from his eyes, his words falling silent.

Your chest was heaving with uneasy breaths as the man collapsed to his knees before falling over on his side, blood pooling around his body and seeping into the floorboard.

Your vision was hazy, the whole room spinning around you.

The only thing in perfect focus was Otis. Standing just behind where the other man had been with a dark look on his face. He was covered in grime and blood, his knife left behind in the spine of the corpse at your feet.

“O-Otis…”

He said something, his lips were moving but you couldn’t hear anything just like before. The ringing in your ears even louder now. You watched, eyes wide and hands shaking, as Otis spat at the corpse, his words coming harsher even if you couldn’t really make them out. He was baring his teeth now.

The walls were still spinning and the floor was moving, the only constant was Otis. 

He was your anchor.

You didn’t even realise you were moving until it was too late, your body acting on instinct. You managed not to trip over the body between you both before yours collided with Otis, your arms clinging around his waist and your eyes squeezed shut.

“Otis, he…I…what…”

Clinging to Otis’ steady frame, you feel still finally. You could still smell the gore on him but it reminded you of where you were, it grounded you. It anchored you even more when you felt his arms slow encircle your body.

“Don’t go crying on me, darlin’,” his voice was teasing, almost mocking, but you didn’t care. The threat was gone and the world was steady, you could breathe easily again. Nothing else mattered.

“Shush, Bunny, everything’s alright now,” Otis cooed, actually managing to soothe you some despite his sarcastic drawl.

“I’m here, I’ve got you. Nobody fucking touches what’s mine, right?”

It shouldn’t have brought you any comfort and yet it did. There was a time where those very words would have made your skin crawl, but now you found yourself burying your face further into Otis’ sullied shirt.

Seemingly seeing no further need to indulge your need for affection or reassurance, Otis unwound his arms from you and pushed you away by your shoulders.

For the first time you were able to catch him off guard, moving with lightning speed as you clutched at his arm. “Please, don’t. Otis, don’t leave, I’ll do anything, please, just…” you could already feel your breath quickening again in panic.

“Aw, silly Bunny,” Otis smirked with too many teeth, his eyes glinting with mischief. “C’mon, Mama will sit with ya.”

“No,” you felt a sob catch in the back of your throat, suddenly desperate to not have Otis out of your sight. He was the only thing keeping you stable.

“Oh, you just want Ol’ Otis all to yourself,” Otis’ smirk somehow grew as he dragged a calloused thumb over your cheekbone, wiping away the fresh tears, the drying blood on his hand leaving a pink streak in its wake. “Why didn’t ya just say so? You can help me deal with this fucker then, then we can check in on Baby. She’s playing with his little bitch right now, maybe she’ll save some of the fun for us.”

Your stomach churned at the thought of actually partaking in the horrors that the Firefly family enacts but the dread you felt from the thought of leaving Otis’ side was overwhelming.

You nodded shakily before you could stop yourself.

Blood and gore squelched under your feet at Otis led you away from the still open front door but you clung to his hand all the same. Otis was dangerous and you had almost forgotten just how dangerous everything else could be.

Otis was deranged and dangerous and you never really knew when he would snap but he also protected you. He didn’t let anyone touch what belonged to him, so as long as you were in his clutches, you were safe from everything but him.

[marigoldbaker]

making a list of good things that happened this year because there's too many and i need them recorded for posterity

visited bonus mom in england and it rewired my entire brain chemistry. i did not blog about it a lot i don't think and i don't talk about it often because it was such a joyful celia is fully present experience, but i will say that when i first arrived at the airport i was so fucking nervous and i was all kinds of shaky and fucked up and terrified that this six year long relationship would fall apart when we tried to translate it to irl and then i saw them there with a sign for me that is now on my wall in my apartment and something in my heart snapped into place and i literally physically flung myself at them and tripped over my suitcase and my knees gave out and i ended up dragging them down to the floor and we hugged for like at least ten minutes (conservative estimate probably). true story

jess is an entire bullet point on this list. funny sweet important passionate talented dedicated hardworking academically iconic definitely needs to take more naps keeps me apprised on extensive sims lore is coming out to visit in february is incisively thoughtful and we've made up beef for our dnd characters together. i love you a lot jess. i would say more things but i bet even these things are going to make you hide under a pillow. so.

so many other friends! like??? insane???? quite a few irl friends which is so cool! particular love for hal and silvain and rj (calendiles dnd crew i love you i'm so glad me putting down jenny has not meant putting down our friendships bc you're all such marvelous people) and gabby and silvain (silvain gets a double mention for Reading Literally All Of My 200K Word Fic reasons. erudite, and immensely appreciated)

and the new bg3 friends i'm beginning to associate with who i don't wanna name by name bc i'm shy and i care overly but PLEASEEE know if we've texted more than once about bg3 i probably adore you greatly and admire your creativity and thoughtful opinions and am trying to play it cool but im bad at it. yes this is about you. i deeply hope we will continue talking. probably about jaheira bc im obsessed with that woman.

being part of like 2 different dnd campaigns this year right around the time i started playing bg3 for the first time was REALLY fucking cool.

ACTUALLY ON THAT SUBJECT THE WHOLE BG3 THING WAS REALLY FUCKING COOL. it feels really special to not like....idk, this year is the first year of my life i have not been labeling myself as That Jenny Calendar Girl! i don't feel like i'm That Jenny Calendar Girl. i am celia :) i like a lot of different things! i like video games, i like bookmaking, i like drawing, i like cooking and food, i like fashion, i like writing, i like little calico critters <3 ironically my url is still the same but i think i am going to keep it that way for a little while, because i like remembering what brought me to this blog in the first place.

fell in love with my neighborhood! it was always bound to happen, but the moving-in process was rough, and it took me a while to connect with the place. now i know what drink i like to order at the local cafes, i know where i want to go for coffee and for pizza, i know about farmers' markets and local events, i know that There Is A Fucking Swimming Pool Across From My House. i do not think i can ever leave.

started to FINALLY feel comfortable in my job! i still don't totally know what i'm doing, but i don't feel like i'm sleepwalking through work while badly dissociating, and i really love the work that i do + the position i fill. i'm so hopeful that i can continue to work with teens. being a teen librarian is oft a difficult position to find

learned how to cook! did not do it often this year but oh well. i was busy.

went to the chicago art institute for the first time ever and got to see a sunday afternoon on the island of la grande jatte by georges seurat which was really insanely meaningful because sunday in the park with george is one of my dad's favorite musicals, and he went and saw that painting a long long time ago, and he also went and saw the monet paintings, and we texted a bunch about it

kept connected with my dad and my brother, and am starting to realize that having my own adult life means i fit a lot easier into theirs.

was briefly and meaningfully reunited with the actual love of my life (the pacific ocean)

VISITED A ROCK BEACH IN ENGLAND. if no one else got me i KNOW rock beach got me. everyone i have talked to is like "no, beaches need to be sandy" but i don't think they understand the sensory experience of sitting among 10000000000 rocks and picking them up and playing with them and finding a piece of rock chalk and drawing faces on the rocks and leaving all the rock faces for someone else to find and hopefully be unnerved by and then having your bonus mom's partner be like "celia are you just abandoning your children there" and reconsidering a lot of life choices but not enough to take the rock faces

i love you lake michigan im sorry i spent 80 percent of this year being mad at you for not being the pacific ocean im done having emotional problems i promise

went and saw wicked 3 different times

went on a couple of really meaningful and sweet dates and even if they didn't go anywhere i think the fact that i'm capable of feeling like that about another person is super awesome to know, and makes me so excited to keep on trying with that

went on a bunch of REALLY wonderful friend-dates and made new friends :) who i have been hanging out with on and off when our schedules allow for the last few months, and who invite me to parties and things!

received some really incredible and personal holiday gifts from a couple of friends, making me subsequently realize that maybe i'm not impossible to give gifts to

drew an entire wall of art for above my bed

bought a four piece microwave safe dish set in colors i love that remind me of marigold. for $10. will absolutely never let anyone forget that or change my blog title (which is a reference to the fact that i went insane that day to the extent that a woman leaving the shop saw me sitting outside with my cardboard box of dishes and went "are you still enjoying your dish set?" and i did not know who she was bc i blacked out and told everyone in the store about how much i loved the dish set. apparently)

i cannot even talk about marigold without getting so unwell and feeling in my chest just this indescribable feeling. i spent like eight years unwaveringly obsessed with a minor character from a 90s tv show who i really was just making into my own original character, but she never could feel fully mine, and the experience of creating my own girl from scratch (baking her, lol) when i was regularly dissociating and vaguely suicidal and having her be the thing that made me figure out how to connect with things and be happy again has been probably one of the best things i have ever experienced. to know unequivocally that the thing that makes me feel strong and centered is something i made for myself out of all the complicated insecurities and worries i feel. she brings me so much joy. i don't think i'm ever going to put her down. that 90s girl was not my baby, and that 90s video game woman, as beloved as she is, may not be around in my heart forever (though i strongly suspect it's going to be another decade, lol) but marigold? that's always. i love her. she's the girl i made for me

[ihopesocomic]

People only care when it's AI art as in drawings or animation

There are so many artists who are supposedly against AI art that make AI music, use AI voices without permission from the original voice actors, or make AI scripts

Who then go and cry when people treat them the same as AI "artists" as if it's any different

It really sucks and I'm sorry people are using your writing to feed into AI so they can roleplay instead of just roleplaying with real people :/ (hell it's probably not good to replace what's supposed to be real human interaction with AI anyways)

Exactly, anon!

And yeah, no doubt certain people will scoff and roll their eyes at Cat's response to this person and think she's being mean but we sincerely don't see how trading out actual interaction with AI is healthy and we're gonna call a spade a spade and say it like it is.

Not being able to make friends irl is certainly one thing - I can relate to that - but idk, I just always found it pretty natural to use the internet and make friends in the communities I engaged in. And we didn't have things like Discord servers back then either (old person moment lol) - RJ

[richonnesbitch]

LOVE, LOVE, LOVE that Judith went to Rick on her own. Like, of course with RJ it needs to be more of an „introduction“. But not with Judith, even if at this point they are essentially strangers, she still knows him. That’s her Daddy! 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

That's her daddy and she loves him!!! She missed him!!! She knew he was out there and that he was alone and she never wanted him to feel that way. They are so beautiful. Their relationship is gonna blossom so much. That's his babygirl and he finally has her back 🥺🥺

Rick had drawings of her and she was even the very first thing he asked Michonne about. He missed her so very much. And it's amazing to finally see them together again. I'm so glad he gets to be a dad again. Being a father was always core to Rick's character. I know not having his babies probably felt like he had a piece of himself missing.

[lunar-years]

Re: the fic tropes from the s2 hiatus, I have a related thought or question.

I would welcome your thoughts or recs (including recs of your own fic) because I admittedly found the OT3 WAY more easy to believe in fic in the s2 hiatus, in terms of Jamie joining an established RoyKeeley, even if the signs for the RK break up were there in retrospect. I now find it hard to believe in, post finale (well, post fight - up until half way through the finale we were looking good.) I still read lots of OT3 things that diverge at different points in the show, up to and including mid finale, and them simply not taking their bullshit argument to Keeley’s door, but I CANNOT see a path back from that after they do it, only to RJ, in a strictly canon compliant post finale fic. Of course Keeley becomes friends with them again but the events of canon made me feel like she fully closed the door on either of them in that scene for good, and I can't see it working out the way I once could. That's a let down, and makes me sad especially after 3.11! I used to not even like RJ without K, I much preferred OT3.

So what are your fave fics that deal with them getting together post finale - as in, one that doesn't diverge and that deal with what actually happened? I want a fic to really to sell me on it, if that makes sense, because the show really didn't in the end, it felt like it killed it. (Even with the barbecue scene - it felt like potential for RJ + Friend Keeley to me.)

Can you help me believe in the possibility again?

Hello!! First off, let me apologize in advance for what I'm fearing might end up a lengthly response to what was a very simple question, and frankly more than you probably wanted to know lol. That said, I feel like I need to preface my suggestions a bit first to help explain my breakdown of the recs so here's just a few things to keep in mind:

So, I don't see Keeley kicking them out after their bullshit argument to be a permanent door closure on the possibility for a relationship, which obviously influences my enjoyment of post finale ot3 fics greatly. Instead, I sort of just view it as Keeley drawing a hard boundary on what she's willing to put up with, and categorically deciding that she not going to engage with either of them when they're being that idiotic (enormously valid of her). HOWEVER, I honestly believe all it would take is a genuine apology from them to allow them both back into her good graces (look at how easily she forgave Roy after he gave her that sort of half-arsed [imo] apology letter! Now, obviously that didn't fix anything between them, and Keeley was in a particularly vulnerable place when it happened, and possibly their subsequent decision to sleep together then made things worse for their future romantically, but they are also undeniably back to genuine friendship + complicated feelings about ~more~ in the very next episode! I think this situation would go very much the same way.)

NOW, I'm not saying that's like... an entirely healthy and well-adjusted basis for a romantic relationship right off the go, just that I do think that Keeley would accept their apology and return to being friends with both of them really speedily. And that I don't think the lingering romantic feelings between them all (that imo, we do see hints of all season) would disappear. The big problem with roykeeley that led to the breakup was their inability to communicate their needs and feelings and what they wanted out of their relationship, alongside an inability to be truly vulnerable about their emotions. But i think s3 made it very clear to me how much the love is still there between them, and I'm of the belief that all it would take to fix them would be an honest conversation where they acknowledge they've hurt one another, admit they still love each other, and come up with a plan to move forward. I think the solution would be similar for budding ot3--they just need that heart to heart moment to hash it all out, because the love is there!

As such, the most "realistic" path forward for ot3 post-finale the way I see it is for all three of them to agree to be ~just friends~ for the foreseeable, giving Keeley time to focus on herself & her career and explore the self-discovery that comes with being single for once, as well as giving Roy time to develop a routine with therapy and work esp. on the issues that promoted him to initiate the bullshit finale fight with Jamie in the first place. I do not necessarily think anyone but Jamie is necessarily ready for any relationship where we leave them in s3, so I feel very similar about routes forward for RJ, JK or RK and I do for RJK. Eventually though (because let's face it, I do think they're all deeply horny for one another as well as share deeper feelings) the simmering, underlying sexual tension would boil over and the friendship would develop into more.

But all that said...I also am very easy to please and can be made to believe in pretty much any route to ot3, so I enjoy most interpretations of how they get together post finale/*that* fight. I love that it was left so open-ended, it makes it so easy for me to enjoy most fics about how they might get together

I say all this not to argue over your different interpretation (which is a totally valid one!) or to try to suggest everyone needs to see it how I see it, but rather to sort of warn you I guess that some of the fics I'm recommending might not be as successful for you as you were for me, because I see the situation so differently.

I think a lot of canon-compliant post finale fics (mine included tbh) tend to sweep the fight moment under the rug (as in, it gets mentioned that the boys apologized or what have you, but there's also been at least a few weeks time jump since the finale and the three of them have kind of moved on from that evening) because myself and other authors maybe see it as less of a major dealbreaker that needs to very addressed before the three can more forward. I have tried to curate the fics out accordingly into categories that will hopefully steer you in the right direction, but it's also been a while since I've read a lot of these:

Category A: Very convincing (imo) canon-compliant getting-together post finale fics that don't necessarily address the final fight head on:

The Third Wheel by scintilla10; a very cute one-shot based around the idea that Jamie and Keeley have a heart to heart in Brazil and then bring that energy back home to Roy.

Upside Down by @morethanslightly; post finale, they're all friends! then Jamie and Keeley go to Brazil and more occurs :)

take away the glass by @izzyspussy; OK...so to be fair... This one explicitly states in the leading author's note that it ignores everything that happens in the finale, lol. However, it's so good and otherwise (imo) very in line with canon that I'm recommending it to you anyway, even though it doesn't match the brief. JamieKeeley get back together first, which is a unique take I haven't seen in any other fic that nonetheless feels SO fitting for the dynamic in s3. I just really think this is the post-series fic that could convince you on the three of them again :)

Oh, Lord, You've Never Been So In Love by asexual-fandom-queen; post finale friends to lovers, the fight is mentioned in what i think is a very effective way, but not really focused on.

Triangles by @catalogercas- I love fics where Phoebe is the one to knock some sense into them :)

Category B: Post-finale ot3 fics that DO address the finale/fight of it all head on:

How to Build A Triangle (or accidentally fall headlong into one, or whatever the fuck) by SquaresAreNotCircles; very fun but also They Talk About It! Pretty in line with how I see how things actually playing out in canon, tbh.

boyfriend lessons by @mixtapestar; so this is in alignment with "they apologize, Keeley forgives them and they all move on" which I realize might be enough accountability for the way you view the fight, but there's fun twists and I love anything that involves shenanigans and also their Brazil trip.

it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning - butterflybook; a quick one-shot about the boys apologizing & Keeley forgiving them (author notes this happens quickly, but they share my sentiment that that is pretty in character for Keeley)

Category C: Maybe less convincing, given canon, in terms of like, long-term stability for the relationship without further conversation and hard work, but definitely convincing for in-the-moment rampant horniness:

three turns by scintilla10; this is about Keeley inviting them back in immediately after kicking them out for horny purposes, so I'm not sure you'd be convinced by this lmao. But it's also so fun, so I thought I'd throw it on the list anyway for others people who might be interested and/or if you read some category A stuff that gets you back in the ship and then want to try something different

Triple blend by Dancey96; this definitely takes some liberties with what Keeley may have said before kicking them out. so it's "canon-compliant" in a very loose way I don't think aligns with what was actually intended in canon, lol. BUT! It works for them and it's fun and it's hot and it's a fun way to play with what happened so maybe it would make you feel better about the scene! idk

Heart Trouble by @morethanslightly this is another play on the scene that maybe doesn't address their problems as much as you would need, but gosh it is sexy and fun!

Category D: My own fics that may or not be your speed but I'm throwing in to self promo anyway:

Confetti ; This follows the concept that they're all friends post finale and then slowly the dynamic starts to change; fluffy getting together fic ft. Roy's family

last to leave the party ; another iteration of the above but this time it's years of friendship between the three of them post the finale before the something happens that causes things to shift back around to romance

Actually, the one I'm writing now (RJK friends with benefits) is I think going to be the one that addresses what you are looking for most head on (in terms of dealing with the direct aftermath of the finale and staying completely canon compliant). So stay tuned!

If anyone else has any suggestions or would like to self-rec one of your own fics for anon, please add them/share them with me!

[felineverdure]

do u think the canon jean loves floch & riener? (not talking romanticly only, just generally. just basically what does the word "love" mean? the meaning doesn't always have to be romantic)

if "yes" for both, who do u think he loves more?

also idk if i said this to u before BUT i love ur content on all ur socials. i'm rly happy i'm not the only flojean passionate lover and there's other ppl like me and u. but UNFORTUNATELY i srsly fear on the flojean community from extinction from 2 things, the hate and not being a lot for the flojean shippers to enjoy arts or takes or fics or fanmade mangas etc. that's why i always say to flojean shippers who feel like they wanna quite for those reasons to see it from other flojean shippers perspective too. like u know, let's pretend i make flojean art plus fics etc but i don't see a lot of ppl who support the ship and i also get hate so that made me wanna quite BUT i see one die-hard flojean stan who also wanna quite bc his fav flojean accs are now gonna quite which means EVEN LESS flojean content than it ALREADY is; and since this one die-hard flojean stan wanna quite too, the flojeans fans of this acc wanna quite as well cause one of their fav flojean stan acc is now quitting too AND SO ON...until extinction (hopefully it won't happen)

sry for the rant but the point i'm trying to make is PLS DON'T QUITE bc ur art, takes, the sharing of other flojean posts, ur whole acc is a HOPE for new flojeans to exist and is a REASON for current flojeans to KEEP existing, so this way our beloved community is going to grow instead of dying.

LMFAO ik u might think i'm being sarcastic or being dramatic but i'm not, and for the delivery of words "ur whole acc is a ✨HoPe✨ for new flojeans to exist and is a ✨ReAsOn✨ for current flojeans to ✨KeEp existing✨" PLS i sound like my life depends on this ship LMFAO.

i didn't kno how to get the idea across other than this LOL also English isn't my first language. also ik u might wander why am i saying this to u because u might never have the thought of quiting BUT i just think u might feel like quitting in the future bc i KNOW all flojean accounts have came across these 2 things, the hate, the idea of quitting bc the flojean community is small. that's why i said all these things to u out of nowhere. also it'll be a good idea if u show this to other flojean shippers so they feel more motivated to continue. it'll be even better if u make one similar to this bc u have better choosing of words than me o b v LOL

anyways who jean likes more floch or riener? LOL

Awww thank you ♥️ It does get pretty lonely sometimes when the community is small, I wouldn't say it's the sole reason to get demotivated by that fact. I'll still draw or yap about FJ whenever I want, shamelessly too. 😂 I don't particularly care that it spawns hate or makes people uncomfortable. I get quitting as AoT has long finished so it's natural that the fandom fizzle out especially so if its for ships/characters that are less popular. I also encourage people to actively interact with each other! Go talk to people @ bsky/X. Make silly headcanon posts, polls, anything to make the fandom alive! As for the haters part, unfortunately it can be a strong deterrent from encouraging ppl to make content. I don't blame them for leaving tbh. It is mentally exhausting and especially so if you're in small communities which means having to deal with it alone.

Ok to answer the first part of your question: Canon Jean never actually says who he loves more, so I don’t think anyone can ever give a definite answer in regards to canon. Just a bite sized explanation on what I think of RJ and FJ:

Jean admired Reiner a lot during their cadet days, like most of the 104th. Reiner was that strong, dependable guy who everyone looked up to. So when the betrayal happened, Jean was completely appalled and it probably hit him even harder when he found out the full details later. In Shiganshina, like Connie and Sasha, he was struggling to accept that they have to end Reiner but ultimately learn that he has to. But by Reiner's luck, they failed. When presented with the opportunity to argue for Reiner's life, Jean took his chance. You could argue he was arguing for science and stuff. I chose to see it as that AND Jean trying to save his ex comrade life despite feeling betrayed.

Still, after everything, Jean managed to push those feelings aside to stop the Rumbling. He even saved Reiner multiple times. People argued that it’s just because they couldn’t afford to lose Reiner, which is fair, but Jean didn’t have to give him that pep talk mid-battle, risking his own life. Then there’s that banter between them near the end. Some people see it as joking around and getting comfortable with each other again. I have seen others taking it as serious insults. Personally, I think it shows they’ve reached a point where they can move past the betrayal and just be themselves again.

Now with Floch, he and Jean started out in pretty similar places, but then they were hit by their own traumatic event except they took completely opposite paths. Floch went full extremist, while Jean tried to stick to his morals. Jean was the only person we saw in canon who actually “comforted” Floch or is friendly with him judging by how Floch stuck to him during pre ceremony. Most of their interactions later on is of Floch leaving Jean speechless with his arguments because, as radical as they were, there was some logic to them and that spoke to Jean the practical guy. Jean understood Floch and how he came to be what he is.

I’m sure Jean was super disappointed and disgusted with what Floch did during the Rumbling, but he never wanted him to die! (People need to stop saying that!!) And it says a lot that Jean stayed by Floch’s side as he died, something none of the other Paradis alliances (except Hange) did. In the og manga, he was also seen stopping Floch from bleeding out. I also just realized that Jean showed sadness and was not shocked upon realizing it was Floch who was shot. That shows that Jean still cared about Floch, despite it all.

So, who did Jean love more?

Honestly, I don’t think it’s a matter of “more.” It’s about the different ways he cared for both of them. He forgave Reiner and respected him as a comrade again. With Floch, it was more about empathy and understanding, even if they ended up on opposite sides.

Jean trusted Reiner again.

Jean understood Floch.

Both mattered to him, just in different ways.

Also, I want to point out that even though I used canon events to explain my thoughts, it’s still not canon! Different people interpret these moments differently. In the end, it’s all a figment of our minds. 🙂

[caufield193]

Guys- come on. The angst has nothing to do with their relationship. Rick chopped off his hand to get back to his wife, and the only things Michonne did in an 8 year time frame was have ricks baby and give him ricks name and legacy. They have to introduce tension so that we watch it… it’s what they did with the trailer that had Michonne and Ezekiel kissing. Had everyone afraid when all it was, was wzekial having a moment, Michonne pushing him away crying because she missed Rick. If anything, the angst probably has to deal with how they handle leaving or Rick losing it because of RJ, or Michonne having repressed anger because Rick lead the herd away which lead to the bridge. It seems the angst is in 4, which also happens to be the episode Danai wrote… the episode screeners are saying is for the richonne fans. They have marketed the shit out of this being a love story… I swear their angst is environmental or situational related…. Nothing to do with their relationship. You must remember that they both need each other to live. We see this with Rick hitting his lowest by almost taking his life because he can’t get back to his wife…. He decided not to do that thankfully but still decided to die. Michonne made a similar choice in season 7 when she thinks Rick is dead… she drops her sword, almost welcoming death because they can’t live without eachother. The difference is, Michonne had people to look out for she was a single mother… pregnant with their baby. Anytime she needed to be reminded of Rick, she looked at RJ. Rick was alone, by himself, with no child to look after. All he had were pictures of drawings… Inam excited for the angst because 1. That’s a very human thing, and it’ll show that Rick and Michonne deeply love each other by being vulnerable with eachother. Rick couldn’t be vulnerable in his first marriage, because let be honest, not only did Lori admit that she wasn’t sure if she loved him anymore… Lori didn’t want to hear him, she admitting to always wanting to fight him…so how could Rick be vulnerable when all she wanted to do was misunderstand him. Lori said that he didn’t speak enough yet with Michonne, he doesn’t have to speak bc she automatically gets him… so it’ll be nice to see them be able to be intimate by sharing angst and conflicting emotions, because they know that at the end of the day… they’re obsessed with eachother Deep breath people

[thegratefulsouth]

Alright I have just finished Season 1 of TWD DD and I have thoughts and questions and feelings. And energy!

I am very new to this fandom, and while I've done some searches in places, I'll still just apologise in advance for being repetitive and missing stuff. I will miss stuff every time.

I'll get Laurent out of the way, and even though it's all connected for me, the rest is Caryl.

#1 So Laurent. I have questions about his ability to see into the future. He was convinced Daryl would survive the Gladiator battle, he knew they'd all end up back together. Is this a real thing? Is it coincidence in faith? The drawing I don't care about, I'm not sure how involved he is with the manipulations, but he should definitely be able to feel that this is happening with Isabelle, given his empathic nature. So in that case, does he sense there is a reason to go along with her ways, for a future purpose we don't know about yet.

The empathic thing:

Episode 1, he says to Daryl "You're homesick. I see it in your eyes. I feel things. In my stomach. I feel your sadness." Episode 5, he tells Madame Genet that she isn't angry; her heart is broken.

He can distinguish sadness between heartbreak and homesickness- these are very specific feelings. Are there more examples? Not sure when I'll be able to watch it back. Is this significant? Is there a point to this? Is he going to make the match? Is he going to be overwhelmed by Carol's grief and guilt, though hopefully she'll just be happy and relieved when he meets her (hopefully!!).

"Daryl why don't you just kiss Carol like she wants you to?"

What are the rules around this? I don't know how it works.

#2 Second up! The boats. Is there any evidence that any of the boats have any significance? I know they probably just make sense with the location and the storyline, etc. But when Laurent cuts the boat loose, Daryl is losing his most immediate TANGIBLE lifeline to Carol and that is because a BOAT has drifted. A boat.

Okay, and also, I was thinking about this on my long drive to work this morning and I swear to the husks of dust on my Jim Shore Dorothy and Glinda figurine, Spotify threw THIS song I've never heard before at me. Yes, PIRATE song. Pirate song by mehro. But dear god the lyrics.

"Are you ready to let me in?"

"I've been trying to believe what I said is what I need."

This is such a haunting, beautiful song. I'm so thrilled to discover this artist. I'm not immune to dissolving into a puddle on the side of the road when I hear a new song that spins me out. I feel things so intensely. I'm going to do a post just for this song. This song is Caryl to me.

#3 Daryl's longing for Carol in a ramble:

I like the connection between Daryl saying "I have family back home," and Carol in the teaser clip saying Daryl is the only family she has left. It feels like a string, tying them together. Feels like they're on the same damn boat. Emotionally.

I just want to touch on the name dropping Who Are Your Friends scene with Laurent. Even though I have no idea whether this scene is supposed to have any significance or if it's just supposed to be a simple moment of connection for these two. Regardless, it is significant. Every second beyond about a week just is. So to touch on Laurent again, I'm just wondering is it possible that Daryl's a little guarded here, because he knows the kid's intuitive? Does he feel like he needs to be more careful with his emotions? He's already elevated. But he says Connie's name really easily. It's easy for him to say her name and I think that says a lot. He's trying to connect with the kid, so of course Judith and RJ pop up. Daryl got himself started, and there's a very slight gap, while he's thinking before he offers up Ezekiel. That's where he should say Rosita but she's gone, or Aaron (but too much missage? Their bond), Michonne's not there! Oh, Ezekiel! They were starting to get along? They had a hug and everything? I don't know. I like the link between Connie and Ezekiel though. Anyway Daryl has to say Carol because she is his heartbeat, so he manages to get that out and then he stops. No more names.

Laurent says they sound nice and is Daryl's response a little defensive? Even though Laurent's just a kid, he's a little intense. Daryl says, "Yeah, how do you know?"

I think that's interesting. Like he's shared as much as he's comfortable sharing and then he wants to bundle his family back up again. It's painful to talk about Carol because he misses her and he promised her and she cried when he left and she is his soulmate. She's a little too precious and valuable to be spoken about by someone who hasn't even met her.

Alrighty now I need to go find some gifs for that song post.

[atombonniebaby]

Atom Bonnie Baby's Rat Man Starter Pack

MacCadooldles:

The Playlist.

A mix of songs that I listen to when writing! Some remind me of Mac, some are songs I think he'd listen to, and some are HC and Fic specific!

Rat-Man Garbs:

DadCready Screens Masterlist:

Swings - Happy Tears - Bedtime Stories - Pulling Faces - Happy Tears 2 - Sleepy - Sanctuary - Protective - Duckie Boots - Sleepy 2 - New Dwellings - Off to the Beach - Mr Huggy

A MacCrady Profile

Name: Robert Joseph MacCready

Occupation: Gun for Hire

Experience: Gunner (don't hold it against him) Mayor (from 10-16) self proclaimed 'ruthless little bastard' (still applicable)

Nickname(s): RJ, Bobby-Joe, Mac, Sasshole, Mac n Cheesy, MacGreedy, MacSneezy, MacSleepy, MacWeepy, MacEaty, SnarkCready

Age: 22 years old (no really)

Height: 5'8'' (Short King)

Build: Scrawny (130 lbs.)

Eyes: Bright Blue (pwetty)

Hair: Light Brown, choppy (hella cute)

Features: All sharp edges and angles, rat-like (but in a sexy kinda way)

The best ways to annoy/piss him off:

-Trying to make him carry your junk.

-Leaving him in the dark about what is going on and not letting him have a say in important decisions

-Being irresponsible and not taking the situation seriously.

-Using chems in front of him, knowing he disapproves of them.

-Not taking proper care of yourself (i.e., not wearing armor, getting enough food and water, etc.)

Molerats (anything that looks, walks, or sounds like one)

Murdering Innocents and sadistic behavior.

Abuse of Power (this is probably the thing he hates the most)

What he likes:

Wit, sarcasm, and smart-assness (loves it!).

Making MacCready smile and laugh.

Playfulness (MacCready can't resist).

Cuddling and being held (He'd never admit it).

A good listener.

Surprising facts about MacCready:

His guilty pleasure is Sugar Bombs and Nuka Cola.

He started drinking when he was six years old.

He has a high level of intelligence and enjoys learning new things (he likes to spout out random facts)

Named all the dogs in Little Lamplight: Muttface, Pete, Hooligan, Ginger, Bandit, and Rex.

Headcanons!:

If there were one word he'd use to describe himself, it would be hardy. He's used to pushing himself to do whatever it takes to survive, even when doing things that others consider crazy. MacCready is sarcastic, stubborn, and guarded—he doesn't trust easily.

He affectionately refers to his rifle as 'Baby' (but only in private).

He is surprisingly insightful and observant, noticing details that others overlook.

MacCready's past has left scars on him emotionally and physically, and some days are worse than others.

When MacCready is ill, it the more clingy and needy he becomes.

Hates being cold, so bundling him in warm blankets helps make him feel better. Will accept hot soup (but NOT cave fungus)

Self-consciously hates how his knees knock together and his ribs poke under his shirt. (due to having rickets as a kid)

When genuinely happy, he's all toothy smiles until he thinks someone might notice, and then he reverts back to his usual stoic self. (doesn't like his teeth)

MacCready is always smoking, his cigarettes resting between his lips as he goes through one pack after another.

His guilty pleasures are Sugar Bombs and Nuka Cola. He loves sweet things but doesn't have time for much food.

His mind is full of cuss words.

He also has a habit of tapping his fingers against the side of his rifle whenever he's nervous.

MacCready and intimacy:

He misses physical intimacy and closeness and longs for that connection again but struggles to communicate it. Insecurity eats at MacCready; he feels guilty about moving on with his life and letting go of Lucy.

When MacCready does allow himself to get close to someone, the things that draw him to you aren't lost on him. How your presence brings him a sense of peace and makes him forget about all the problems in his life, if only for a while, how you make him smile when he wants nothing more than to cry, and how you somehow always manage to look at him with such kindness, even when he feels he doesn't deserve it.

MacCready finds sleep with a new partner extremely difficult. After losing Lucy the way he did, having trouble falling asleep is now a side effect of his traumatic experiences. He often wakes up in the middle of the night, unable to fall back asleep, and if his companion stirs, he's instantly wide awake, unable to keep his eyes off them.

He tells himself it's because he's trying to protect them, but he knows deep down that part of him can't stop wondering what it would be like to lose another loved one in a heartbeat. To find himself alone yet again... and being alone scares the heck out of him.

MacCready can be very vulnerable at night, especially after a nightmare. When he comes back to his senses, it takes a moment for the memories to fade away. Once they do, he gets flustered and tries to push his nightmares out of his head. He doesn't want his partner to see him as weak and break down.

As MacCready starts trusting you, he eventually reveals his troubles. He's more willing to seek support rather than deal with everything alone. He may still shy away from physical contact or withdraw after the initial breakdown. Once MacCready starts opening up, he slowly becomes more comfortable, allowing you to show affection and comfort him.

An ongoing conflict with himself is his attraction to men, which he has repressed for many years, believing that acknowledging it would question his marriage to Lucy. In MacCready's eyes, you either like women or men and not both. So, the fact that he harbors these feelings of attraction to men makes him feel guilty, ashamed, and, most of all, confused about his identity.

[regaliasonata]

Thinking of PR ideas for later in the year, probably during October a collage of sorts. Artists get together and draw PR characters as monsters or in costume and put it all on a poster, and the deadline is like Halloween, I’ll think on it.

Tempted to draw Cruger as Anubis and Kat Manx as Bast, maybe Werewolf RJ👀

[mrboogerlip]

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Hi! I'm MrBoogerLip! I'm a 5,000+ year old shapeshifter and I've been drawing since the beginning of my existence! I've come down to live amongst the humans ever since I was kicked out of heaven, so I'm not too used to conversing. Forgive me if I say something too weird haha! But I love reading your comments! Please don't feel the need to hold back! (*^▽^*)

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Estevan x Rolando

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