#um i'm not sure how to tag this

[sasukimimochi]

Hi guys, so you might have noticed me being quite absent these recent weeks (which, at first bc i was just really drained) but shit's been hitting the fan recently one thing after another. I'm stressed and finding it hard to write at all despite wanting an escape from everything going on.

So as short an explanation as i can gather here...

I had to rush the man I live with to the hospital on my birthday, which some of you knew I had a rough birthday but not what happened. He's alright, but I spent six hours in the ER hallway while sort of frozen up, hoping that he didn't have a stroke or seizure. Luckily he didn't, but the experience obviously is changing how I'm treating his care at home so I can make sure it doesn't happen as frequently.

TLDR; spent six hours with the man i live with on my birthday at the hospital.

Then, my renters gave me a very impromptu notice that they're moving. They left the place pretty trashed outside and yesterday i was so stressed about it I was getting hella physical stress symptoms. (anxiety pins and needles, scalp tingling, fever) not to mention not having received the second half of rent, which was due already and hasn't been paid. Hoping to get someone new in but i need to write an agreement up to avoid stressors like last time...

TLDR; We're losing rent this month. Hoping to get someone new in but i need to write an agreement up to avoid stressors like last time.

+ We got an unexpected nearly 600 dollar charge from an insurance company (I need to make a call about it)

and there are a few more things I'm not going to list because of privacy but they're related to our home.

TLDR; All this is leading into me saying the next chapter for gom is very likely if not surely going to be delayed. I'm super stressed and its affecting my health because of all this irl business.

I will be trying to upload one thing this weekend I had prewrote before all this shit, which is a bonus scene for chapter 26 for a part i had to cut from it. I want to scribble something for it, but it might end up just as is, since this week is so terrible lkjfgdhfg

If any of you would like to help me out at this stressful time, i'll doodle mdzs for some donations (tell me an au of mine and who[max 2 characters], no specific requests beyond that) though it might take me a moment to get to them bc of all the stress. Send me an ask or a message on Kofi with your dono.

[talesoflore]

When they're not friends or lovers but a secret worse third thing (defying boundaries and blurring the lines between all other conventional relationships)

[ratcandy]

happy lesbian visibility week . everyone say hi to Lumi, who is now visible

For those brave souls wondering, "Who is Lumi?" well let me tell you. Lumi is a character that is referenced exactly once in-game offhandedly by the current Lighthouse Keeper, with an unused sprite to boot,

and she and Monch kiss each other very passionately by the fire, and nothing goes wrong in their lives ever ever. (To clarify, Lumi isn't her canon name, it is the name I have bestowed upon her. It's also never stated that this unused sprite is/was the old leader of the lighthouse, but that is the headcanon I'm running with. Just to avoid any confusion!!)

and if you're thinking to yourself, "Hey wait a second, isn't that one off-handed bit of dialogue about how the previous leader of the lighthouse was murdered by the Fox?" well u'd be right. but don't worry about it :)

SHe and Monch are holding hands and kissing and whatever else people who love each other do. Why? Because they love each other very much. Thank you and goodnight <3

[the-red-thread-that-strangles]

Rei is late for the first time since he's started working at Poirot.

Neither terrorism attacks nor hostage crises have affected his being on time. Not even a runaway horse managed to keep him.

But he spends one night with Akai Shuichi, and his perfect record is ruined. Asshole.

Despite his calling ahead, Azusa gives him a worried look. He stops briefly to give her a mock-embarrassed apology, turning up the charm. Promises he won't be late again. Then he's off to the storage room.

He needs to fetch his ingredients and get to baking.

Rei's going to find Akai and strangle him, just as soon as his shift is over.

.

Roughly 12 hours earlier.

There's a gun aimed right between his eyes.

That in itself is nothing unusual. The situation could be worse, really.

After all, his own gun is pointed right back at Akai Shuuichi's annoyingly smug face. At this distance, he'll be able to read his movement, react in time. He'd rather talk, but if the sniper fires, Rei will drag him into hell too.

Blood for blood. Mutually assured destruction.

(His excitement is slightly dampened by the fact he's rather certain Akai won't kill him.)

"Caught you." Rei can't help the satisfaction slipping into his voice.

Finally. After three years, their game of cat and mouse is over. He'll have his answers.

The most pressing of which-

"Where's Scotch?"

The words cut into the silence, sharpened by fear. His best friend might still be dead, after all. (If he isn't, why hasn't he contacted Rei?)

It's not like he has much to go on to suspect he's alive, besides the fact that Akai himself came back from the dead. Rei can only hope he brought Hiro along.

Before Akai answers, there's a click. The world becomes dizzyingly bright, expanding past the muzzles of their guns.

Rei blinks the disorientation away. Spots silhouettes from the corner of his eyes. He hasn't met them before, but he's familiar, of course, with the owners of this house. How long have the Kudos been watching them?

While he's busy processing that revelation, Akai holsters his gun. Part of Rei hates how nonchalant Akai is about all of this, exposing himself so easily. Like Rei isn't a threat, won't put a bullet in his head because of a couple of witnesses. (Hates that he's probably right.)

"I propose a trade. For old time's sake."

(The words leave a bitter taste with Rei. They haven't exchanged anything, not goods, not words, not warmth, in years.)

Akai snaps open a cheap flip phone - likely a burner. His thumb hovers over the call button. The fingers of his other hand, long and dextrous, wrap around the barrel of Rei's P7M8, tugging gently, but insistently.

Rei considers his options. He holds no illusions - without his gun, he won't be able to dispatch Akai. But he's more than capable of holding his own for long enough to escape, if need be.

(He could just fire, right now. It wouldn't have to be lethal. Could take the phone by force. But chances are, whatever information Akai has, he'll be much less willing to share it with a bullet wound.)

Rei looks up at Akai, meets his green, green eyes. The part of him that shows genuine emotions, some days. (Not that Rei is one to talk.)

Finds Akai looking...tired. He wears a small smile, but it's worn around the edges. There's no open mockery, no quiet amusement. It's just the two of them, and an offer.

Rei lets go of the gun. He hopes he won't be needing it, tonight.

.

Akai helps him up, his hand warm and steady. As soon as he's upright, Rei lets go - he can walk perfectly fine by himself, thank you very much.

The FBI agent shows him to the living room, tells Rei to make himself a home. After all, the Kudos have promised to give him some privacy, for his chat.

For a moment, the sniper lingers, gaze caught by the phone. Then Akai casts his eyes down, and leaves Rei alone.

Silence, if not for the crackle of the damned fireplace, fills the room. Rei hesitates for a moment. Then he presses 'call' for the only number in the directory.

The phone crackles with static, beeps as it establishes connection, then-

"Hi, Zero."

The world stops moving. Relief floods his system, sapping the tension from his muscles. He leans against the soft backrest, breathing freely for the first time in a good long while.

.

Their talk is short. Rei asks some questions to establish it's truly Hiro, not an imposter (though that would make a very poor basis for the negotiation the Kudos have planned).

Hiro tersely explains some things, although he isn't allowed to give away much. He's in the FBI's witness protection program. That they're talking at all is a massive bending of the rules, authorized only because of Akai's insistence. He claimed it was of critical importance to their mission.

It certainly is, to Rei.

.

The next hours are a blur.

The sofa dips when Akai sits down at his side, the Kudos already having taken their seats on the other side of the small coffee table. (He wishes Akai would sit farther away. That he be less reasonable in his assumptions and demeanour.)

It's somewhat surreal to think that celebrity actress Kudo Yukiko of all people gives him a steaming cup of chamomile lavender honey tea. Good thing working with Vermouth has knocked most of the starstruck behaviour out of him; his younger self would have made a fool of himself.

He can't afford that. After all, they are seeking him out in an official capacity, requesting PSB senior agent Furuya Rei's cooperation.

It certainly is strange for them to reach out through him, considering his known enmity of Akai. But he's a professional - he might be reluctant to work with the man, but it's not his decision to make. He'll relay the offer, unless it's utter garbage.

So he pays attention while they share what they can of their plan to take down the organisation. Listens to their pledge for equal contribution, and their promise of crediting the PSB with a successful operation; an obvious play intended to soothe the wounded pride of the Japanese, after years of illegal activity. But it's the least they can do.

If one were to ask Rei, the offer is certainly worth considering. The PSB has been working the case for five years now, and while they have gathered intel, and managed to place Bourbon as a vital asset, they're barely closer to shutting the organization down than when they started. It's sprawling, interconnected with various businesses, and, worst of all, active internationally. If they don't cut off all its heads at the same time, odds are the members will simply flee to a different branch. Maybe lie low for a bit, and then go about their business with renewed vigour.

It seems like an international cooperation might just be necessary to achieve this task. So he'll be their messenger; it's above his pay grade to decide whether to take them up on the offer or not.

Though privately, he hopes his superiors agree; every day they lose ground to the organization. By this point, Rei doesn't really care anymore whose plan it is that finally does the organization in, as long as it gets done. (And as long as he and the PSB are finally treated with the appropriate amount of respect.)

Still, he can't help thinking they wouldn't be having this conversation now, if these foreign agencies had respected the official channels ahead of time. Maybe Hiro could be hiding in Nagano then, with his brother, instead of being confined to the other half of the globe. In the US, of all the terrible places to be. He shivers.

.

By the time they're done it's very late. Rei is already half-dozing off, despite his best efforts to stay awake. It would be highly irresponsible to drive in this state, so he's asked their hosts for a coffee (he's sure a place housing Akai will have more than enough of it to go around). He'll just rest his eyes for a moment, until they're back.

.

Something light is being dropped on him, almost stirs him to consciousness. But it's warm, soft, and smells of huddling together in an abandoned apartment.

(Of long-forgotten small comforts.)

Not a threat.

Thus satisfied, his body collects its due, and he's dragged back under, into deep, dreamless sleep.

.

Which brings Rei to the reason he's late.

Someone, and he has a very good idea of who it was, put his phone in airplane mode, drew all the curtains shut, and kept the rest of the house quiet.

(Let him sleep for as long as he needed to.)

So Rei wakes up with a start, in a barely familiar place, the digital clock on the wall indicating it's way past opening time for Poirot. Shit.

He grabs his belongings, pistol, clothes and keys and all, and dashes out the door. He swears he can see Okiya - no, Akai, he was right, damn it - look down on him from that favourite window of his. Asshole. Contrary to him Rei has a job, a cover to maintain. He'll get back at him, yet.

.

It should probably worry him that he can perform the drive to Poirot on autopilot. Too many late-night stakeouts turning into impromptu naps, requiring him to drive straight to work after. So much trouble, over nothing. If Akai had just cooperated sooner-

Then, what? Rei hadn't managed to track him down before his supposed death, and the less interaction there is between Okiya Subaru and Amuro Tooru, the better for both of them. He grinds his teeth, barely manages to brake in time for a redlight.

(Hates that he understands the caution, to a degree.)

.

The universe really is conspiring against him, today.

After the lunchtime rush, a certain pocket-sized detective is ushered in through the door, followed by his guardian and her best friend. The kid gives him odd looks all throughout ordering lunch, too sharp in a way that makes the hairs at the back of his neck stand in up. Rei gives him his sunniest smile, and an extra packet of sugar. He's played games with Gin and Vermouth in worse conditions; he won't yield to a particularly precocious six-year-old.

Despite getting more sleep than the last three nights combined, he's not feeling too well. A single good night's rest can't undo weeks of insomnia. If anything, it only makes apparent what he's lacking.

He finds his mind wandering, glad the preparation of food comes automatically, by now. Whisk and mix and pour. Fry, remove from the pan...

"...uro? You seem unwell."

Too-familiar green eyes stare back at him, bags under the eyes and all. Rei barely manages not to flinch.

Of all the people to catch him spacing out, it just has to be Akai's little sister. The gods must truly hate him.

"Ah, miss Sera. I apologize, I was just pondering some new options for our menu." He winks, gives her his most dazzling smile. "The chamomile lavender honey tea cake has me under its spell."

In response, she just wrinkles her nose, unimpressed. Squints at him with those jade eyes that always see through him too easily.

"Are you sure you're not running a fever? It seems a little warm in here already, yet you're working in a sweater."

Rei blinks at that. The temperature seems fine to him. Azusa hasn't said anything about it either.

"I appreciate the concern, but I assure you, I'm perfectly fine. Now, what can I get you?"

One slice of red velvet cake (of course - why did they even keep that on the menu?) and a macchiato later he's rid of her.

For now, at least - she's joined her friends at the window seats, and judging by the way she keeps sneaking glances at him when she thinks he isn't looking, he hasn't seen the last of her yet.

Still, her questions are odd. Surely he doesn't look that terrible?

(Vermouth has taught him some of her secrets; he's been concealing the shadows under his eyes for a while now. Nobody's ever found him out. Why is it now that people notice?)

.

He continues to work mindlessly, unfocused. This damn shift just doesn't seem to want to end.

He just about manages to avoid knocking Ran out for leaning over the counter, into his space. She remains blissfully unaware of the danger she just escaped, smiling brightly, kindly.

"Excuse me, I have a question."

Rei closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, counts to four. Smiles at the girl. "Go ahead", he says, continuing to whisk some cake batter.

Ran leans in closer, conspiratorially.

"Masumi is too shy to ask" - that's a bold-faced lie, if he's ever heard one, and he's something of an expert on the matter - "but she'd love to know where you got that sweater."

Now, Ran's a lovely young lady, always eager to help. It's a pity she's being manipulated for Sera's gain. Because there has to be more to the question, even if Rei can't see it yet.

Of course, he can't tell the girls the truth - Kazami bought it for Bourbon's cover. But the best lies are closest to the truth, so-

"I apologize, but I do not know where it was bought. A friend gave it to me." His best calculated-apologetic smile smoothes the blow, hopefully.

"Oh. I see." Ran visibly deflates. Still, her good manners prevail. "Thank you, though!" And with that, she's heading back to her table.

Strange. What could Sera possibly want with his sweater? If she wanted to track him down, surely there's more efficient ways, and it's not like he doesn't have a dozen similar cream sweaters-

Wait. Cream?

Rei's pretty sure he dressed in black to infiltrate the Kudo manor. He's not been home and he hasn't changed for work.

He manages to supress a groan, but he's sure there's some unpleasant emotion visible on his face.

...he must have grabbed the sweater along with the rest of his belongings in the morning rush.

Now that he's looking at it, it's clearly a little too large for him. It's also warm, fuzzy, soft, and utterly unoffensive. That's probably why it didn't register, before.

The sweater does smell decidedly of Akai - cigarettes and a hint of his obnoxious aftershave. The warm scent of curry is new - though unsurprising, given his foray into cooking. Great. That's why they've been staring at him. Sera likely recognizes the sweater and Conan spends enough time with Akai to know the scent.

His gut instinct is to go change, right now, get rid of the damning piece of connection to the man he has too many conflicting emotions about. But a long-sleeved black turtleneck is hardly appropriate work attire for Poirot. Besides, if he changes now, the pair of detectives watching him will just have their suspicions confirmed.

So he grits his teeth, takes in a deep breath that smells too much like Akai, and gets back to work.

.

Rei does change out of the sweater as soon as he's done with his shift.

(It doesn't help. The scent lingers.)

.

He's tempted to just toss the sweater, but can't help feeling like it would be a waste. It's quality craftsmanship, well-worn but taken care of - this kind of sweater would pill, otherwise.

It really shouldn't be faulted for its owner's flaws.

So he puts the sweater in a bag, intending to have it dry-cleaned and give it back later.

He should really hunt down Akai, too, but if he's honest, he's just too tired. He probably shouldn't even drive, in his condition, but he needs to get to a safe place, to think about the developments of the night.

.

He reports to Kuroda, showers thoroughly, and falls into bed.

.

Rei can't have slept long. The sunset colours the world in blood red hues by the time he wakes up, out of breath, heartbeat too fast.

Visions of smoke and ash cling to him. Explosions, destroying him one by one, until nothing remains but death alone.

Hagiwara and Matsuda, taken by violent flame.

Hiro's remains, crushed and burnt beyond recognition.

Akai's smile, grimly defiant, as he's shot by Kir. He too finds his end in a blaze, lacking glory.

They're gone.

Consumed by the inferno that seems to follow Rei around. Which burns everything he cares about, leaves him freezing in its wake.

(He can't even cry, his tears evaporating in the heat.)

Rei shivers, draws the blankets closer. Hopes for a little bit of cover, a little bit of warmth.

Please. If he could just shake off the nausea. If he could stop his spiralling thoughts. Logically, he knows that's not all true, even if his heart burns. Akai and Hiro aren't dead.

It's a lie, they're alive, it's a lie, they're alive, it's a lie a lie a lie a lie-

A set of sharp barks rips him out of his thoughts, back into the present.

Oh. He's woken Haro.

The little guy stands in front of his bed, ears tucked back and hackles raised. A defiant ball of fluff that cares so much, trying to growl the nightmares away.

(It might just work.)

Slowly, shaking and somewhat off-balance, he reaches down to scoop up his dog. Wiggles the blanket off his shoulders so he may cradle the whining bundle of fur to his chest. It's soothing, to feel the warmth of another living being by his side. They sit, the silence permeated by Haro's huffed breaths. His body heat seeps into Rei's chest, nestles in his heart.

"I apologize for worrying you. I'll be fine, soon."

He's not alone.

Haro nudges his hand, demands to be pet. Rei obliges, of course he does.

He's not alone.

.

Still, the headache is a pain. He won't be able to go back to sleep like this, will need to grab a painkiller.

He makes his way to the kitchen counter, keeping to the walls because he's still somewhat unsteady, carrying his bundle of warmth along.

The dog throws a fit as they pass the bag with Akai's sweater, growling and yapping at it. Despite the circumstances, Rei can't help but smile.

"I'm glad to see we feel the same way about him."

Wait.

Inspiration strikes in the form of a very stupid idea.

Because that sweater, with its stupid mixed scents, reeking of Akai, is proof he didn't just imagine last night's events. Tangible and olfactory and physical proof. If he were to wake from a nightmare, with it by his side...the anger at Akai would surely keep the pain at bay.

It's worth a try.

.

As he goes back to bed, Haro lies down beside him. Rei keeps petting him, one-handedly. With the other, he holds on to a cream sweater that isn't his.

When he breathes, it smells of too-long stakeouts in windy apartments.

Of Rye's extra blankets, the ones he started to bring when he noticed Bourbon always freezing; irritating to no end, how he was always better prepared for cold weather than Rei.

(It smells of Bourbon's cooking, given in exchange for soft blankets.)

Scents of a tentative alliance, as thread-bare as the fabric between them.

Grounded between the warmth of Haro, and the scent of Akai, Rei falls asleep, waiting for the dog days to finally be over.

[front-facing-pokemon]

[inkesse]

For the first time ever, I used tarot as a method to try and contact Lord Apollo. I've been anxious about it for a while, but today the sun shone brightly and I saw some beautiful art of him, so I just.. felt compelled to give it a try. It went better than I ever could have expected and I truly do feel cared for, and that what I do in devotion to him is enough.

[jichanxo]

(late) sunday six

thanks for the tag @passthroughtime and @overdevelopedglasses! not gonna tag anybody because i'm late to the party as is :P i've mentioned sensei au/fic a lot in passing but i think this is the first time i'm actually talking about it properly in a text post as opposed to like, tags on my art... anyway, it goes without saying that this has lost judgment spoilers. part of the premise for this fic is that kitakata never becomes kuwana because he only barely manages to fix everything at the last possible moment. mitsuru lives, but only because he gets lucky. something like that. the main fic takes place long after this, but i recently had a go at trying to write mitsuru and kitakata on the roof together, since it's obviously integral to kitakata's character even if mitsuru doesn't fall into a coma. i'm still feeling it out, but it's been an interesting one. very different from what i'm used to. but also cathartic in some ways.

anyway here's an excerpt. putting another warning here for lost judgment spoilers and mentions of suicide.

Kusumoto looked away, sat up. He didn’t really seem to care that Kitakata was there, aside from the knowledge that he couldn’t do anything rash with him here, which he resented.

He wiped at his chin, his eyes, but the movements were clumsy, and he couldn’t clean himself off properly. His hair was still a mess, though he’d tried to make it presentable again. Kitakata suddenly wished he had a handkerchief in his pocket instead of a packet of cigarettes.

“I’m not going to kill myself, Sensei. You can leave if you want.”

He wanted to relieve Kitakata of any responsibility to be here. He thought Kitakata was only doing any of this to cover his own ass.

Kitakata hadn’t given him any reason to believe otherwise.

“Oh, well.” He fished for the first excuse that came to mind. “Haven’t had my smoke yet.”

He pulled one out, took his time lighting it. It’d buy him some time. It didn’t matter what Kusumoto thought of him, and he wouldn’t delude himself to expect that he might think that Kitakata was here because he wanted to be. It wasn’t entirely untrue, after all, that he was just trying to cover his ass. He’d made a mistake, and he was desperate to fix it.

He took a drag. Exhaled. Looked to Kusumoto.

“Do you mean it?” He asked.

“Mean what?” Kusumoto mumbled.

“When you said you weren’t going to kill yourself.”

[hermit-scribe-vibe]

so i started a new show recently <- 900 episodes in

Image IDS:

Two digital drawings of Roronoa Zoro from One Piece. He has brown skin and pale green hair.

In the first he stands with his left arm on his hip, turned slightly away from the viewer. He is shirtless, revealing top surgery scars. There are dialogue bubbles reading:

-[Off Screen] Zoro! Your chest?!

-[Zoro] Oh yea

-[Zoro] Mihawk did it for me lol

In the second he has his arms crossed and is facing the viewer directly. He is wearing a shirt this time. There are speech bubbles reading:

-[Zoro] We're literally married?

-[Off Screen] Like, legally???

-[Zoro] Yea

[stringless-arthur]

Your favourite Puppetshade Chronicles headcanon pretty please?

hi!! brilliant question umm (: i don't think about headcanons a lot normally buuut i Have been thinking about puppetshades a lot lately so. um. here is Something

my main thing (that i also incorporate into my character designs lol) is that each of the puppetshades have a special pair of glasses. oki has round red tinted ones because they're very vampire to me, skyler has star shaped dark blue tinted ones because he is very star shaped things to me. magic. yeah, and piper has like rectangular light blue tinted ones (i have a pair like this lol) (i Could have given her heart shaped ones!! to correspond w the love theme!! however i forgor and also skyler already has glasses with a fuck ass shape. and let me tell you those things are Hard To Draw. and besides i gave piper heart shaped earrings (: ) AND we've not met them yet but. dottie has goggles actually becauseeeee i dont know actually and cindilou has like. ok hold on i actually drew cindilou yesterday i can show you

lots of effort i put into this one it's true. um. the second i heard "mecha assassins guild" i imagined her w these lol. she also has a mechanical arm ☝

[thehealingsystem]

now im......not jewish, and not well educated on this subject so im not sure about how to talk about it myself, but this has been picking at my mind so......can anyone tell me if this is antisemitic or not?

oh and let me just say, the original anon this person is responding to didn't mention america or living in america AT ALL. the conversation was suddenly changed to be about the us, which is the center of the world obviously (/sar), with this additional comment

im not informed enough to combat this, though this post did NOT give me a good feeling while reading it

[chaoslynx]

Aww the fanart with asheiji and kids... <3 It gave me an idea for a fic: Ash and Eiji's child(ren) notice that something isn't going right in one of their friends' life. Obviously they're too young and naive to realize that their friend is being abused at home. But Ash sees, and knows... Merry XMas and Happy New Year!

About an AshEiji [child], I'd like the name Layla for a daughter. Aslan (or Arslan/Arsalan, which is a Turkish name and not Hebrew like Yoshida thought) is the hero of a popular Persian epic. And Layla is from a famous Arab piece, Layla and Majnun, the middle-eastern version of Romeo and Juliet.

Ash has noticed that Layla's been a little ... off, for a while.

She's always bene a little introspective for her age, and generally just a good kid. Gets that from being raised by Eiji, Ash guesses. No way someone raised by someone that good could end up with a cruel bone in their body, even if Ash is the other parent. At least, that's what Ash has to keep telling himself to try to get the idea that Layla won't end up like him.

But she's been even more withdrawn lately, like she's thinking about something beyond her years.

Ash doesn't like it.

It's not quite familiar in a way that's especially concerning to him, but it's uncomfortable enough to see that he's worried. And she's been brushing him off when he asks, but he's determined to get through to her. Layla is his daughter, after all, as weird of a situation as that is for him to realize sometimes.

"Hey kiddo," he says one day, when she gets home from elementary. "You okay if we do an ice cream check in?" It's a keyword of sorts between the three of them—Eiji included—that started just due to Layla's love of ice cream. It became an easy way to talk to her about anything serious or seemingly scary. Spoonful of sugar type of situation. The ice cream makes everything a little more palatable.

But Layla frowns, now, and hugs her knees to her chest. "I dunno," she admits.

"We don't have to, but I do think it would be helpful to talk some things out, yeah? Something's on your mind."

She pouts.

"Am I wrong?" Ash says, not pushing too hard, but just a small challenge.

"Dummy," Layla mumbles. "How'd you know?"

"Hey, language," Ash says, halfhearted. Like he hasn't said worse in front of her. "Come on, let's get some ice cream and talk stuff out."

Once they're settled in with their bowls, Ash waits for Layla to speak first. She already knows that he's wanting a conversation here, since he essentially used the parent equivalent of the safe word they gave her to get her out of any situation without others picking up on it. He's inviting her to say anything and everything on her mind, but he's going to let her do it on her terms.

"... It's my friend at school," Layla says after a few bites.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Ash reminds her softly. "What's going on with your friend?"

"He's just"—Layla makes a face—"I dunno."

Ash feels a flare of anger for a moment. "Is he bullying you?"

But Layla quickly shakes her head, barely sparing this kid from the wrath of Ash Lynx. "No, more like I'm worried he might be getting bullied. Or ... something." She frowns down into her bowl, and Ash can feel his entire demeanor shift.

Ash goes almost deadly quiet for a moment, thinking of how to approach this. He can't make assumptions too quickly, but he does know that they've taught Layla enough of how to speak up for herself and what healthy friendships should look like that she's probably right if she thinks that something's wrong.

Taking a slow breath, Ash reminds himself that he needs to not scare Layla here as well. He doesn't want her to worry any more than she already is—she's such a good kid, but it isn't her responsibility to be looking after her classmates. If she's right about this—or, rather, if Ash is right about what he thinks Layla might be saying—then the adults in her classmate's life have failed him.

Ash knows what that's like.

"... What's got you worried?" Ash asks gently. "Maybe I can help him, or we can figure out someone who can."

Layla thoughtfully scoops another spoonful of ice cream. "Well," she starts, "he seems to get hurt a lot at home."

Ash's temper flares for a moment, and it takes everything in him to remember that Layla's probably talking about the normal bumps and bruises that happen with the accidents of childhood.

Except, apparently, enough of them to worry her.

"What kind of hurt?" Ash asks.

Layla drops her spoon and runs her hands up her arms. "Like here," she explains. She taps her wrists with the opposite hands. "And here."

"Like bruises?"

Nodding, Layla says, "Like when I fell down."

Ash winces thinking of it even now—Layla fell out of her bunk bed once a few months ago. She wasn't badly injured, but she did have some really bad bruising.

"And he always seems scared in P.E.," Layla continues. "I don't know what's wrong, but ... something, I think."

Ash winces, thinking of his own experiences with sports at that age. There could be any number of reasons why a kid might not be fond of physical education, but ... it's definitely not a good sign.

Ash swallows. "Thank you for trusting me with all of this, sweetie. I'm going to see what we can do, okay? We'll make sure he's okay."

" 'Kay!" Layla says immediately. She trusts Ash so strongly that all the worry she's been showing recently seems to melt out of her. She kicks her legs back and forth, enjoying her ice cream.

... Well, Ash has a new goal. Ethical routes first: he'll bring it to the school's attention first, and then follow up with a social worker and the ChildHelp hotline.

And, if all else fails, there's still a little bit of Ash Lynx left in him these days. He's gotten his hands dirty before, and he's not afraid to do it again. Not if it means he can help someone like who he used to be.

[rammgender]

i gotta be honest it's really disheartening to see a character and be so happy because you have the same body type as them and then find out people are incredibly upset over how they look... i get not finding a character attractive, that's fine, but dear lord the amount of actually vile comments and actions i've seen are so upsetting :(

i wish people would realize that insulting or degrading a character's appearance, especially when it's... literally just a common body type, can be really painful to those who actually look like that. not liking a design is okay, but actively calling a character ugly or horrible and making fucking edits of them being skinny is absolutely not

it's 2023 and this is an adult media for fucks sake, i'd expect people around here to be more mature about things? grow the fuck up and learn some basic respect. also maybe think about who all might see your hateful comments?

fortunately this is just a loud minority, and i'm so overjoyed by everyone who gets super excited over characters with ""unattractive"" body types <3

[sandcastle-art]

eepys

[duskgryphon]

i completely forgot i was meaning to talk about my ocs and stuff so um. take a compilation of a bunch of art of my bug dragons 

[shadowhegeog]

shadow the hedgeog blog

[blujayonthewing]

You tag things as 'oc insp' a lot and it always makes me so curious about your ocs avskshsb

aahaha I really need to get around to making an about page considering how much I think and talk about my OCs all the time without context, lmao ^^; THAT SAID... you can always ask about any of my OCs if you're curious 👀