#am i gonna stop the dale's dad edits

[boygiwrites]

Harley D. Dixon 8

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

📖Chapter List.

Author's Note. PSA!! I re-worked the last scene in the previous chapter! (It's just different dialogue and a lot of it was cut to fix the pacing.)

Anyway. Very excited to share this chapter! :)

We spend all day scavenging.

Apparently some people want to start heading to Fort Benning, but Rick wants to stock up before we even think about it. We can't really drive across half the state when we don't even got toilet paper, after all; let alone food or gas.

He leads us from town to town, stopping at random shops, houses, and doctor's offices along the way, in search of supplies. Everybody stays behind in the cars, keeping watch, while the men drag themselves into building after building, coming back more empty-handed each time. I can tell it's starting to weigh on Rick. The last thing anyone ate was that potato salad, and our water bottles are all pretty much empty. We're hungry, tired; miserable — A group made up of growling stomachs and parched mouths.

Ahead of us on the road, Rick honks once and sticks his arm out the driver's window, pointing to a small supermarket he wants to loot.

He takes a left turn, and we all follow him into the parking lot, ready to rinse and repeat.

Everybody parks in front of the store.

My Dad shuts the engine off.

"I'll be back in a bit." He gruffly tells me, pocketing the keys. "Be good. Don't go nowhere unless it's with Dale."

"Okay, Dad."

"And if a walker comes up to the truck, what're you gonna do?"

I sigh. "Scream real loud."

We've been having this exact exchange all day, every time he leaves. We don't talk about nothin' else.

We're not really on good terms, but we're not really arguing, neither.

I think we're at a truce.

That's what happens when two people really want to fight but are deciding not to.

He slowly nods.

Then he grabs his crossbow, hops out, and slams the door behind him.

I watch him re-group with the other men, and they walk off together for the fifteenth time today. It's a pretty dismal routine.

I pass the time waiting for them to come back by reading my book. Dad found it for me back at the book shop. I've been reading it all day. It's about a scruffy cartoon dog named Hairy Maclary, and back home, I used to have almost the entire collection. I think it's why he picked this one. Reading it gives me a familiar comfort that he can't give me right now. It even makes me forget about how hungry I am after a while.

Beside me on the middle seat, there's a pile of other things my Dad's scavenged so far.

On the bottom is an ocean-themed blanket, two pillows, and an armful of clothes that he found in a stranger's house. When we sifted through them, I found a pair of socks that fit me. I slipped them on underneath my new boots. I also found some black jean-shorts and a big, green shirt with a purple frog on it. Frogs are pretty cool. I shimmied them both on to replace my pyjamas. Dad found himself a new pair of steel-toe boots, grey jeans, and a button-up that he ripped the sleeves off. We kept the rest of the clothes as spares.

There's also a half-empty box of bullets, a hammer, craft scissors, and one battery, which took him all morning to accumulate.

My tummy gurgles as I turn the page.

Nobody's found any food yet.

If we could eat batteries or bullets, we wouldn't be so hungry right now, but that's not how it works.

Sighing, I continue re-reading Hairy Maclary for the fifth time today, savouring it by painstakingly studying each picture.

It wastes about ten minutes.

"Whatchu readin'?"

I jump.

Whipping my head to the right, I see Shane walking toward the truck. Oh, God. He just might be the last person I wanna talk to right now.

He reaches the open window and casually crosses his arms over it, but his cheerful demeanour doesn't rub off on me. I try to scoot backward, but the pile of clothes quickly gets in the way. He's standing way too close to me. If he leaned forward just a little, the brim of his cap would touch the side of my head. I don't like that. His military dog tag twinkles innocently in the sunlight. Walsh, it winks at me.

Randomly, I become aware of the fact that there's nobody else around. Something about that isn't right.

"What are you doin'?" I ask.

Don't he know my Dad will shoot him for talkin' to me?

"Oh, you know." He shrugs, smiling. "Thought I'd clock out for a bit, maybe take a lil' break. Nothin' crazy."

Uh... sure.

I don't think Rick would let anybody take a quick break. Not in the sorry state we're in right now. No way. I think he's out here in secret.

He nods toward my book. "So? Whatchu readin'?"

Silence.

"Looks good." He jokes. "I'm a lil' jealous, actually. Maybe once you're done, I'll have to borrow it off ya, huh?"

More silence.

I fold the book in my lap, shielding it from his eyes. I wish I could do the same to my entire body. I don't wanna be doin' this right now. It's like being in the CDC again, that awkward stand-off cloaked in darkness — Only this time, we're in broad daylight.

He clears his throat.

"Your, uh—? Your Dad find that for you?"

"I—"

This is makin' me mad, now. Don't he remember how angry my Dad got before? Does he wanna get shot?

He might be acting stupid, but I won't make the same mistake twice.

Shane is not my friend. Shane is a bastard cop, and I hate him, 'cause I hate bastard cops. I really, really hate bastard cops. Looking at him makes me angry. It makes me even angrier than lookin' at Rick made me, and Rick killed my Uncle Merle, but Shane — Shane ruined everything. He's the reason the car rides are silent now. He's the reason my Dad doesn't feel like the same person no more. He's the reason I couldn't just get belted and be done with it. He just had to walk in. Bastard cop.

He's supposed to save people, but I don't feel very saved.

I just feel angry.

"I ain't talkin' to you." I muster up the dirtiest, nastiest glare I got. "You're a cop. A bastard cop."

His eyes widen.

He wasn't expecting that.

"I'm—" His brows shoot up, and he lifts one hand in surrender. "Harley, I'm just a friend. I'm just here talkin' to you as a friend, okay?"

"You ain't my friend."

"Well, I like to think that you're my friend. And... friends worry 'bout each other, don't they?"

He's worried about me?

I see where this is going.

I don't wanna talk about what happened at the CDC.

"You ain't," I sneer, "My friend. How many times I gotta tell ya?"

I pretend to go back to reading my book, 'cause I want him to go away — just like I wanted him to go away when we were in the CDC. When he talks to me like this, Shane makes me feel like a wobbly tower of cards, ready to fall. He makes me feel like everything I ever knew was just a fairytale, or a straight up lie, like Santa Claus and the Easter bunny. He makes me feel like I'm someone worth feeling sorry for; someone who needs saving.

Well, I don't need saving. He's just gonna have to go save someone else if he wants to do it so bad.

I've been staring at the same word for a whole minute, puffing angrily out my nostrils. I hold the book so tightly that the pages start to crinkle under my thumbs, stretching thin, thin, thin, until they're about to rip under the pressure.

Leave me alone, I wanna scream in his face.

"Can I ask you a question, Harley?" 

I take a deep breath, glowering up at him through my bangs.

He glowers right back.

"Is your Daddy your friend?"

"Wh—?"

The page rips.

"'Cause I can tell you what friends don't do." He raises his brows, leaning closer. "I can tell you that friends don't pin ya down 'till you're crying, Harley. I can tell you friends don't shout; don't make ya feel scared. They don't whip ya with belts, Harley. Is that what you think friends do?"

I struggle to speak. I feel like I'm being accused of somethin' I didn't even do.

"I don't kn—"

"Yes, you do. Lemme ask you again." Shane cuts me off. "Your Dad. Is he your friend?"

Yes, is my immediate thought, and I'm— I'm angry again, 'cause this is exactly what I'm talkin' about when I say Shane makes me feel like everything is a confusing trick. I don't like this question. I don't like that he's even asking it. Yes, my Dad is my friend.

I'm overwhelmed with the sudden urge to defend everything he's ever done.

I open my mouth to answ—

"No." He answers for me — Sharp, like a scolding. "No, Harley. He is not your friend."

"Yeah, he is." I'm shocked. "He is my friend."

I love him. If Shane thinks he can just walk over here and start bad-mouthing my Dad, then he's wrong, 'cause it's not gonna work.

"No. He's not." Shane scolds again, but I refuse to listen to him. I'm reminded of my old teachers again. Whenever I was flunking a simple math question, they'd get angry at me, but they couldn't show it 'cause that's not very nice, so they'd settle for sighing and speaking to me very slowly, instead. That's what Shane does. "I know you think he's your friend. I know you think you love him. I'm not saying you don't, sweetheart, okay? I'm not saying that. I'm saying sometimes friends hurt us, Harley, and we need to have a good, hard think about whether or not we want 'em to keep hurtin' us."

"Well—? I—?"

I realize I don't have anything to say. I have a good, hard think about what he means, instead. A friend? A friend hurting me? I think he means my Dad. Yeah. My Dad's my friend and he hurts me, sometimes. It not that hard to understand. At least it wasn't, not until Shane came along and started lookin' at my Dad like he was some type of monster. The dead people, they're monsters, but not my Dad. I swear it's that simple.

"I don't wanna talk about this." I grumble, glaring down at Hairy Maclary as he chases a butterfly.

"Well, I think we gotta, Harley." Shane insists. "This is important. I'm tryna to help you here."

"I don't need your help."

"Why's that?" He asks patiently.

"Because I don't care 'bout any of that stuff." I'm hating all of this. "I ain't scared'a him."

"You see, I don't believe that." He squints. "I don't think you believe that, either."

I am not afraid. I just have to believe this.

"Yeah, I do." I argue.

"Harley—"

"Yeah, I do."

He gets frustrated, gripping the windowsill.

"'Dad, I'm scared'." He quotes. "That's what you said. That's what you said to him, Harley."

Oh. He heard that. Of course he heard that.

"Well, y-yeah, 'cause I was scared of the dark." I dismiss. "It didn't mean anything. Who cares?"

"You're scared—? You're scared of the dark? You're scared of the dark. Okay. Okay." He takes a step back, rubbing his hands down his face, collecting himself. He laughs but he's not finding anything about this funny. He grabs the window again, harder this time. "You really think I don't remember how you ran off in'a them woods and we all had to high-tail it after you, that night camp got over-run? How it was pitch-black, and you didn't even hesitate? You're not scared of the dark, Harley. Don't lie to me. I don't want my friends to lie to me."

"You're ain't my friend." I groan. "Sophia is my friend. Glenn is my friend. My Dad is my friend. Not you."

"You know what?" Shane gives the door a shake. "Why is that, I wonder? Why am I not your friend, but he is?"

Finally, a question that isn't confusing.

"Because he's my Dad, that's why."

I expect Shane to answer straight away, but he doesn't. He just stands there, raising his brows higher and higher with each second that passes. I frown at him, waiting for him to do something. Eventually, he just shrugs. "That's it?" He sasses me. "That's all you got?"

Well... Yeah.

He's my Dad. Is that not enough?

"He protects me." I'm quick to add. "He makes sure I'm safe. He cares about me. He does up my buttons."

"Anybody can do that." He scoffs. "I can do that."

"No. No, you can't."

"Gimme one good reason why."

"'Cause you're a—"

"And don't gimme any more of that bastard cop nonsense, 'cause I don't wanna hear it. Gimme something real." He makes a fist and beats his knuckles against his breast pocket. "Somethin' from in here. Somethin' from the heart, Harley. Somethin' you haven't heard anybody else say first."

Stumped for words, I try wracking my brain. He's a bastard cop. No, I can't say that.

"Come on." Shane pressures me. "Somethin'. Gimme somethin'."

I go through all the reasons I shouldn't want Shane as a friend.

He's mean? No, Shane isn't mean. I had fun catching frogs with him, and he was even gonna build me a tyre swing before we got forced out of the quarry. He constantly puts himself in danger to provide for the group. He looked after Carl and Lori when Rick couldn't. No. He's not mean, but my Dad doesn't want me to be friends with him. My Dad's word is law. That's a good reason. Yeah. I'll say that.

"It's not allowed." I tell him. "That's why."

"What does that mean?" Shane scoffs. "Do you even know, or is this just him speaking again?"

Oh. It is. I'm just recycling things I've heard before.

Why am I doin' that?

Whatever. I'll think of something else.

"Uh—" I struggle. "You-? You're—?"

I can't come up with anything.

Shane shrugs. "You don't have anythin' else for me?"

"You're—"

A bastard cop.

It all comes down to those three same words.

"You're-You're-You're—" Shane mocks me. "Come on, girl. Think."

I give up.

"I can't, okay?" I finally snap, and in one big huff of anger, I throw my book at his chest. He was right. I can't think of any reason why I should hate him. Not even one. All my thoughts are my Dad's thoughts, and when I try to create new ones, it's just a twisted mess of words and ideas that have never even come outta my own mouth before, only in through my ears. It's just a trick. It's impossible. "You win, okay? There's no reason for me to hate you. S'that what you wanna hear?"

"Finally." He chuckles, picking my book up off the ground. "Good. Good girl. That's what I'm talkin' about."

He holds it out to me.

I snatch it off him.

"I don't hate you." I grouch. "Never did. You win."

"Nah, I think you won." Shane rests his hip against the door with his arms crossed. "You learnt somethin' new just now."

"What?"

He looks like he's proud of me when he says, "How to think for yourself."

How to think for yourself.

What does that mean?

My Dad never taught me how to do that, I don't think. He's taught me everything else I know, like how to skin fish, use a compass, and do up my laces, but he hasn't taught me this. Shane taught me this. I guess I've graduated from learning how to catch frogs. This is a little trickier, but I think I understand. Thinking for myself is like a game — Say something Dad has never told me to say. I don't think I'm very good at it.

I must look a little unsure, 'cause he reassures me, "This is good. This is the first step of somethin' really good for you, okay?"

"Really?" I ask.

Shane seems to know a lot about this.

"Really." He smiles. "Now does this mean you're gonna drop that whole I-hate-your-guts act?"

"Oh. Um..."

I really want to hate Shane. It makes everything so much easier. If we're not friends, then that means I don't have to listen to him talk about what happened at the CDC, and I never wanna talk about that again. But I said it myself, just now. There is no good reason to hate him. He ain't mean, he ain't bad at protecting people, and he definitely doesn't hate me back. He wants to be my friend.

If I don't accept, I'll just be making myself look like an idiot.

I guess he tricked me into becoming friends. I don't know how he did that, but it worked.

"Fine. I'll be your friend." I give in, smiling lightly. It feels a little like admitting defeat, but also like breaking free of something I was stuck in. I don't like hating people. If Dad didn't do it first, I don't think would have ever hated Shane. "But on one condition."

I hold up a finger, putting on a serious face.

Shane smiles, "Shoot."

He's looking at me like no matter what I say right now, he's already gotten what he wants.

"My Dad can't know."

This is very important. I might not hate Shane, even if I am still annoyed with him, but my Dad hates him. He also hated Ronnie, and Ronnie ended up in a grassy ditch in the woods behind our house, with his face beaten to a lumpy, sticky pulp. I don't want that to happen to Shane.

"You know, you're a very smart girl, Harley." Shane lowers his voice. "That's right. Your Dad can't know."

I nervously pick at the skin on my lip. "I've never kept a secret from my Dad before."

"That's alright." Shane soothes. "That's good. That means you're a good person. I'm a good person, too. But this here is our secret now, okay?"

"So, we're friends now? You promise not to tell?"

"That's right." He says. "I promise. You know why?"

"Why?"

"'Cause I won't ever do anythin' to put you in danger, Harley. I want you to remember that."

He puts his hand on my shoulder.

I won't let anything happen to you.

That's somethin' Dads say to kids. That's something my Dad's said to me. But Shane's not my Dad. He's not anybody's Dad.

When we first arrived at the quarry, I remember thinking that Shane and Lori were Carl's parents. Whenever the other kids wanted to play with Carl, they would always go ask permission from them, just like they'd ask permission from Carol if they wanted to play with Sophia. They'd also hover around him all day, making sure he wasn't getting into trouble, and put him in time-out when he was.

Only parents are allowed to do those things. 

I think Shane also thought he was Carl's Dad, 'cause when Rick returned and he wasn't allowed to do those things anymore, he seemed sad.

"Like... how you protected Carl?" I guess.

He gives me a squeeze before letting go.

"Yeah. A little like that."

"But why? Why do you wanna be friends so bad?"

He thinks about it for a minute.

Eventually, he settles on an answer.

"Because we both know it wasn't the dark you were afraid of, sweetheart." He tells me, sighing. "That's why."

I look down at my boots, embarrassed.

It wasn't the dark I was scared of. It was my Dad.

I guess Shane figured it out faster than I thought he would.

I hate that I can't lie to Shane like I can lie to myself. He must've been real good at interrogating people.

"Earlier, you asked me why I'm out here — Why I'm talking to you." Shane says now. I look up at him. "I'm doing it because no one else will. Not Rick. Not Lori. Not Glenn. Not Sophia. Not even your Dad. None of your other friends can help you the way I can, Harley, because they didn't see what happened in that room. They don't know, but I do. And that's very special to me, okay? It's special to me because it means I can help you. And I needed to make sure you were my friend before that can happen."

I start to frown. I do not want his help. That wasn't part of the deal.

Shane gives me a serious look, like he can tell what I want to say. "I know you don't want my help. I know you're angry. You're confused, and I get that. That's okay. But you need to understand that as your friend, I want what's best for you. And what's best for you, right now, is for you to realize that there is someone here who knows what you're going through. Someone who... just wants to help. Someone who's on your side."

I don't know how he plans on helping me. I don't wanna know, either. Cops puts people in jail. There's no jail anymore, but there is rope, and there are places to tie people up — Like shopping cart bays. Jim. I remember how he thrashed. I remember his screaming. I don't want Shane to get beaten, but I also don't want my Dad to get left. I have to choose one. I'm sick of choosing, but I have to. I know who I'm gonna pick.

"Shane, I know we're friends now, but my Dad is my number one friend." I really hope he understands. "Please don't do nothin'. Please don't help."

This makes Shane angry.

He licks his teeth; works his jaw.

I can tell he's already tryna puzzle out how he's gonna trick me into agreeing to this next.

"Please." I ask nicely. "We can still be friends. We can color together. I don't have my crayons no more, but I think Rick found some pencils, before. We can use those. I'll let you do my hair, too, if you want. We can even play tag. Just please don't take my Dad away."

When my Dad got taken away for killing Ronnie, I was sad almost every single day until he came back.

"I need him." I tell Shane. "I love him. Please don't help."

He just keeps giving me that angry look.

I recognize this look, I realize.

It's the look he gave my Dad at the CDC.

Blood-lust.

I realize I'm begging for the wrong thing.

Shane's not gonna take my Dad away.

He's gonna kill him, just like I thought. That's how he thinks he's gonna help.

"Wait." I frown. "I didn't mea—"

"What is going on here?"

I snap my mouth shut.

I look out the window. It's Dale, near the RV. He quirks one hairy eyebrow at us. I glance at Shane. I watch as he slowly re-directs that murderous look onto Dale, and I worry that something bad is going to happen. His veins pop out from his forearms as he grips the window.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" Dale asks, disgusted. "Don't you realize what Daryl would do to you if he saw this?"

Shane's jaw muscle ticks.

"It's okay." I quickly intervene, holding up my book. "He was just askin' about my book."

It's true, he was.

At least, he was at first.

Dale ignores me.

"I'm sure he won't appreciate you sticking your nose where it doesn't belong, I can tell you that much for free."

Wow. He's pretty brave for sticking up to Shane like that.

"Welp. I wasn't askin', Dale." Shane laughs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He shakes his head. He seems to think Dale's nothing more than a pesky little bug that he doesn't wanna deal with. He drops his hand. "You know what? I ain't doin' this. I got more important places to be."

He pushes himself off the truck.

"Nice shirt, kiddo." He mutters.

We watch him walk all the way back to the supermarket, one hand on his gun.

That didn't go so well.

As soon as Shane is back inside, Dale turns his suspicious eye on me. "What did he say to you?"

He wants to kill my Dad because he cares about me.

"Um. Nothin'."

"Are you sure?"

Aw, man. I don't like lying to Dale. He's so nice.

"Yeah. I'm sure."

"Okay," He lilts. "As long as it's not anything me or your Dad should know about."

Oh, God.

"Nope."

I put on my most convincing smile, like I'm posing for a picture.

He eyeballs me for what feels like forever, trying to decide if he believes me or not. I don't think he does. I know I should tell him the truth, but I can't. If Dale tells my Dad that Shane wants to kill him, he's gonna ask how he knows. He's gonna have to tell him that I was talking to Shane, and that just means I'm gonna get belted again. I'm tryna forget all about that, not have it happen all over again.

Besides, Dad already knows Shane wants to kill him, and he's not gonna do anything to put our new friendship at risk, anyway.

It's fine for now.

After a while, Dale gets sick of studying me, and he nods.

"Well, how about you come read your book in the RV? It's getting pretty hot out here."

He's not wrong. It's hot today.

"Oh, did you got that fan working?" I ask hopefully.

Like I said, we've found just about everything except for food — Even a new table fan, thanks to T-Dog.

"Sure did." Dale smiles. "It's working like a charm. Come check it out."

I hop out of the truck and into the soupy, summer heat.

"Can you read my book to me?"

He ruffles my hair. "Sure thing."

"You gotta do a funny voice for Scarface Claw. He's the evil cat."

He laughs.

Dale's a little different than Shane.

He doesn't have to ask to be my friend.

An hour later, the RV door opens.

I lift my head, the cool breeze from the fan fluttering across my face. I watch Rick stumble inside. He's drenched in so much sweat that it looks like he just took a long, hot bath in his clothes. He steals a rag from the drying rack and smothers his face in it. The little fan whirrs politely.

"Any luck out there?" Dale shakes out his newspaper, peering at Rick over his spectacles.

Rick tweaks the faucet on, shoves his head underneath it, and licks up the five little drips that come trickling out, moaning.

Gross.

"Doesn't look like you struck gold in the water department." Dale deadpans. "Any food, at least?"

Rick slides onto the floor, panting heavily.

When he peeks one eye open to glance at me, I belatedly turn the fan towards him, and he sighs in bliss.

"I just need a minute."

I'm literally fanning Rick off. I'm not sure if that's funny or not.

The RV door opens again.

My Dad walks in with Morales, both of them glistening like cuts of oily pork. Dad dumps his crossbow against the wall and crouches in front of the table. He turns his face this way and that against the breeze of the fan, ruffling out his wet hair. He gives my knee two pat, pats, to thank me. I smile just the littlest bit. Morales slumps on the kitchen, huffing and puffing.

Dale laughs at this weirdly entertaining sight. "So? Talk to me, here. What'd we find?"

Rick nudges my Dad out the way to feel the fan better.

"Scoured everythin'," He gulps, wiping his dripping brow. "Top to bottom, left to right. Hell, we even broke open the damn registers, but nothin'. Not even a chocolate coin. Cans were busted all over the floor. Rats were shittin' in the rice. Glenn almost got bit. Shane disappeared for a while; said he got cornered in the break room. Full-scale disaster, is what I'm tryna say."

Shane disappeared, alright, I think, glancing at Dale to try gauge his thoughts.

He just shakes his head.

"I take it we're not considering rat-casserole, yet?" He asks.

"Nah. Trust me, we would'a." My Dad scoffs. "But the dead ones were already chewin' on 'em."

Ew.

I think I'd rather eat frog legs.

Morales gestures My turn now, so I pivot the fan onto him next.

"I don't see how we're gonna make it to Fort Benning the way things are," Rick says. "But we can't keep doin' this."

"What's the plan, then?"

"We do what Shane suggested." He shrugs, looking around for objections. There aren't any, so he makes a cutting gesture with his open palm. "We power our way through to Fort Benning — Straight shot. We wipe our assess with leaves. We eat whatever game Daryl can find. We boil river water. We sleep in the cars. I'on care. I'm not risking our lives for this anymore. It's not worth it."

"Fan's pretty worth it." Morales sighs wistfully.

Dad side-eyes him, as if to say, You serious?

"And when we run out of gas?" Dale chimes in again. "RV's only gonna make it three more days, tops. And I don't even want to look at the radiator hose. It's hanging on by a thread, and barely, at that."

"We siphon." Rick simply says. "We drive and we don't stop unless it's to siphon or sleep. That's how it's gotta be from now on."

Drive, siphon, sleep.

Drive, siphon, sleep.

It don't sound fun or nothin', but it sure beats scavenge, scavenge, die.

"As for the hose," Rick rubs his sweaty, stubbly chin, before pointing at my Dad. "You're sittin' next to a mechanic. Daryl can do check-ups every few miles, and if somethin' really goes side-ways, we can just pull one from another car. There's a solution to every problem. Problems, I can handle. Full-scale disasters — Not so much. That's why I'm choosin' this. I believe we can do it."

This group is strong. It's like a glue that won't let up.

"As long as we don't gotta make more jerky." I mumble.

One by one, they all chuckle.

It's been a long day.

"Alright... Let's get a move on, then." Rick shakes his head tiredly as he stands back up again, against all odds, his smile a beacon.

The sun clips through the window like a golden floodlight, slowly sinking; slowly burning.

"We're runnin' outta daylight."

The fan continues to whirr like a happy kitten.

Author's Note.

Shane... the master manipulator!

That was one jam-packed conversation I had to get down, ahaha.

And Rick... I just love clowning on him every now and then. He's so corny and fun. The last scene in this chapter might be my favorite in the entire story so far, it's just so random and simple.

Please let me know what you thought about this chapter!!!

Sending love! :)

#the walking dead #twd fanfiction #twd #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon daughter #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #daddy issues #rick grimes #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #angst #shane walsh

[aldous-the-crow-man]

my old pfp isn’t saved to my chromebook fsr so have knife crow for a bit

#or forever. we'll see #i'm sorry dale's dad crow was creeping me out #am i gonna stop the dale's dad edits? no i didn't get ibis paint x for nothing

[jq37]

May we have a recap, please? :)

**spoilers for panic at the art show and home for the holidays**

OK people. I actually don’t have a ton of commentary on these two so I’m gonna try and keep it (relatively) short and sweet [Edit from Future Me: Failed Step 1].

Also, iirc, this is the week Dropout starts streaming new Fantasy High eps on Wednesdays which is very dope and I am very excited for. I probably won’t do full on recaps like I do for normal eps because, lbr, I don’t strictly have the time to be recapping these eps at all and it’s pure stubbornness that keeps me from making wiser time management decisions. But, rest assured, if I have an Opinion, you will hear it whether you want to or not. 

Anyway, on with the show. 

Last recap, I mentioned that this ep was giving me Aelwen house party vibes and now it reminds me of that ep in another way: Everyone rolled like TRASH almost the entire ep. It was so frustrating! They barely got any hits in until like halfway through the ep.

(Aw man, I just realized I’m gonna have to remember which spelling of Aelwen is correct again now that FH is coming back.)

I love how Murph is immediately like, “I need to make sure my wife doesn’t die during this fight avenging her fictional husband.”

Isabella also has Aelwen’s trick of poofing around the battlefield which is annoying as hell (ha) for the group.

Siobhan hilariously casts fear on Priya just to be spiteful. I thought she was doing it to help the evac process but no. It was a purely spiteful action. Bless. 

When Kug turns into an ape he, of course, turns into *the* NY ape, King Kong. 

“I roll a nat 20 on an epic shit.”

When Brennan was describing Kingston’s spectral New Yorker Guardians I was already thinking about that one part of Spiderman 2 (the OG Toby Mac version) and then he straight up said, “You mess with one of us, you mess with all of us,” and I lost it.

“Deny the stairs the pleasure of my feet.” Emily is a poet.

I want to know what makes a pigeon spicy more than anything. 

The fact that Brennan killed Ox AGAIN and then immediately looked into the camera and let the audience know the dog was fine because he clearly Oracle stared into the future between eps and saw the entire internet sharpening their pitchforks  was so funny. 

About midway through the ep, Pete tries and fails to send Isabella back to hell and Isabella starts monologing about her plans and connection with Robert Moses (she stole the list from Santa and is/was gonna marry Moses apparently). I wonder if Brennan was like, “These players are for sure gonna murder her without getting any useful info out of her unless she goes full Bond Villain right now.”

And, proving my point, Emily immediately does 56 points of damage, royally f-ing Isabella up. 

This is a really civilian heavy fight which feels weird in a way the FH fights never did. Like, these aren’t even civilians who live in an adventuring town in a fantasy world. These are just normal ass civilians in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

Pete fails a wild magic roll after failing to teleport into the building and then gets a choice of getting really strong (which prob would have let him bust down the door) or to teleport in (which is what he does and exactly what he wanted). Very clutch when the dice rolls play into the story like that.

Kingston lightning bolts Isabella’s hair off which is just malicious but also totally called for.

On her next turn, Sophie gets hurt on purpose to get low enough to activate her ring, lets her hair burn for long enough to shorten it to a cute bob, insults Isabella, then knocks her tf out. 

I love that Emily took one of her teeth (a seemingly crazy move) and when called out by Lou was like, “It’s a link to Robert Moses” (a completely reasonable answer). That’s the Axford one-two punch.  

I didn’t mention it before but, Willie the golem is here, first immobile but then brought back by Misty. Post fight, he says he was somehow brought here by one of the evil factions of the city and says they’ll talk about it later. Also, Misty makes out with him (DON’T KINKSHAME HER).

With a high insight roll, Kingston is able to deduce that the group was ambushed (though not by Priya) and that their victory was a really important one for the fate of the city. 

(Sidenote: The amount that Pete is Over Priya in this ep is so funny.)

Back at Wally’s (which is where Kug is now staying) Wally has gotten Kug a dog bed to sleep in and fancy charcuterie cheese because he and Ricky are the only pure-hearted people in NYC. 

At the same time, Pete and Kingston have a very sweet heart to heart and then settle down at Kingston’s place to chill and listen to jazz. Idk how else we expected this to resolve, considering this is a Brennan Lee Mulligan DM’d show where the sacred pillars are Teamwork, Friendship, Communication, and Making up an NPC on the Fly Because One of Your PC’s Decided to do an Insane Thing. 

Next up is the Christmas ep and Brennan, Emily, and Zac are in sweaters for the occasion. 

Well,actually it’s the 21st and Emily immediately clocks that that’s the solstice. 

Are cookies the good carb?/Absolutely not. But have fun with your life. (I love Ricky’s soft jock energy.)

“I run deliveries,” Pete says to Kingston’s parents, not technically lying but also not being completely truthful. Misty would be proud. 

Going over to Misty, it seems pretty clear at this point (and it’s confirmed in the promo for next ep) that Misty’s fairy business is some kind of de-aging/reincarnation for herself. I wonder how many of these she’s done so far. She said she’s been around for, what? 200, 300 years? Assuming she’s been doing then reincarnations at about 65-70 years old and she reincarnates to around 25? Maybe 6 times? Idk. Just spitballing. 

Saucer of milk to keep the faeries from stealing her (non-existing) children. Faerie lore is wild y'all. 

Did you take another level of warlock?/Yeah bitch.

The fact that since Sophie has joined a monastery, she’s only taken Warlock levels and no Monk levels is very funny from a story perspective. It’s like, she finally comes to this sacred place to be trained to her full potential and she’s just spending what should be her sparring time playing with her cat in exchange for spells. Wild. 

Emily’s cat-like, self-satisfied grin when Brennan is like, “So you just jerry-rigged yourself clairvoyance powers, huh?” is so good. 

And she did it on the fly because Emily Axford is winning D&D. There are no points but she’s winning.

So, uh, Emily does, two things, very in character right after the other:

Thing number one: She send her unseen servant to spy on her family. Her dad seems hardline, “F, Dale. Whatever. Family first. She needs to get over it.” On the other side of the spectrum is her mom who is very upset about the whole affair with her siblings falling in the middle. 

The second thing she does, very casually I might add, is have her unseen servant BURN DOWN HER HOUSE SO SHE CAN COMMIT INSURANCE FRAUD.

EMILY

Everyone loses their minds and rightfully so. What a wild-ass swing that no one could have seen coming. I love it. 

“I look in my backpack which is now my home[…]" 

I almost forgot that Ricky was a fire fighter who would not abide that nonsense until Brennan decided to cut to him. 

Ricky just dolphin swims across the Hudson in 2.5 mins to go put out the fire that Sophie set. Amazing. 

Ally mocking Emily/Sophie: Truthfully, I don’t know what happened.

"I love John McClane, because he loves his wife.” WALLY

Wally: Oh we’re gonna tell a lie on Christmas.

“This is what winning looks like.”

I would really like to know what trace stuff what on the drugs Pete got from 7 but Ally rolled too low to figure it out.

“I disassociate fully." 

Well it took him a long ass time but glad to have Pete on the selling drugs to kids is bad train. Choo-choo, dude. 

7 saying you can hack in real life in reference to his AK-47 has the same energy as Hardison using the word hack in literally any semi-weird episode of Leverage. 

SOCIAL MEDIA IS VOLUNTARY PANOPTICON

So Kug goes with Wally to David’s house disguised as a dog and, despite that, blurts out that he’s his dad immediately. Well, he tries to. The Umbral Arcana stops him, unfortunately. 

"I lick my son’s face.” KUUUUG. 

Sophie showing up with a raw goose and hellish rebuking it is so metal and it’s a shame no one got to appreciate it. 

Me when Sophie’s Mom changes into black top in solidarity for Sophie’s mourning: F EVERY OTHER NON-SOPHIE BICICLETA. I RESPECT YOU. 

Kingston is hustling very hard to get his man Pete a job which is a very Kingston move. That’s how guys like that show affection. 

Didn’t mention it before but Kingston’s parents and Mom specifically adopting Pete is very cute. 

Sidenote: Idk what 7 was talking about Pete trying to stay low profile. He wears a cowboy hat (now a ZEBRA STRIPED one, courtesy of Kingston). I think the subtlety train has sailed my guy. 

Esther shows up at the firehouse, carrying presents for her mom and grandma and looking for Ricky. The says that she’s kinda dealing with something and it feels good to be around him (beat) magically speaking. Sure. I’m gonna keep my Hercules soundtrack on hand just in case anyway. 

I think Ricky is the only person who, with no pretense, could give his crush a sexy calendar featuring him.

Anyway, turns out Esther’s mom and grandma are the furies of Tompkins Square and she’s fated to join them or something. 

Esther causally: I defy you, I defy the prophecy.

The fury thing would explain why Esther’s mom would have cursed Kug. They are famously magical punishers.  

Ricky is a magically certified Good Boy but we been knew.

Zac’s restraint to respect Esther’s personal boundaries in lieu of getting a lore drop to stay true to Ricky’s character is amazing. Mad props.

So we slide over to Misty’s Christmas party which Stephen Sondhein is attending and him having a character card kinda killed me. 

There’s a post on tumblr somewhere about playing faerie  incapability for impoliteness against a vampires need to be invited in and that’s what I thought about when Moses and his vamp friends showed up at Misty’s house.

Robert tries to talk Misty into striking a deal with him for protection from Titania. She’s very much not having it.  

“You know Robert, I love a comedy and I love a farce. I’d like to remind you of who it is that started this and it’s not me and it’s not my friends but I can assure you Robert Moses that we will be the ones to end it if you do not. Do you understand me?” Damn. That’s a mic drop from Misty. 

[As I’m editing this, I’m realizing I somehow lost a BIG chunk of text. I’m not gonna write it all up again but the Cliffnotes are as follows:

Between the Solstice and Christmas, the gang goes Grand Central Station to see the clockwork gnomes that live there because trouble is apparently afoot. Some size changing nonsense happens and Pete shoots a dog (with mini bullets, the dog is fine). Lou is enchanted even though Kingston is not (a common theme with him). Ally and Emily are on the same nonsense wavelength (as usual). 

There are dope magical dragon trains under Grand Central Station that go to the shadow realm which is a place I’d like to know about. Kingston has never seen these trains before even though you’d really think he would have.  

Murph says Gnome Rights which is wild if you know what Naddpod is like. 

Anyway, the high priestess of the gnomes passed out the other day and they figure out it was due to pixie magic which is suspicious. They also know they pixies have access to a “time stone” which leads me to believe that it’s Brennan and not Aguefort who thinks that Chronomancy is the most powerful magic of all. 

Sophie and Jackson go to Dale’s grave on Christmas. Jackson explains that the Order of the Concrete Fist is basically a literal school of hard knocks. A counterbalance to all the reach for the stars dreaminess that comes with NYC.

Dale was their chosen one who was supposed to stop the monastery from falling when some unspecified badness crossed over to this side, but when he went to the place where he was supposed to get guidance, there was no one there (clearly tying in to what Dale said to Sophie last time they talked. I wonder what she needs to get to the top of? Empire State maybe?).

Watching Murph watching Emily, his real life spouse, play at grief for her fictional husband and do some truly insane things is so funny because you can clearly see him thinking, “I am married to this woman,” which, in fairness, is probably the main thing he’s thinking when he’s playing D&D with Emily.

I’m probably missing something but that’s all I remember. Back to post-Christmas!]

So it’s opening night at Misty’s show and, somehow, Ricky’s first show ever. 

I love that Don Confetti is there because of Siobhan’s offhanded comment for a handful of eps ago about him being a supporter of the arts.

Anyway, everything is going great until the second act when Titania busts in through the mirror which is *not* is storage as Misty requested but on stage. It’s a theater fight, y'all! And not the West Side Story kind although if that doesn’t come up I will be very surprised. 

“Let’s kill Titania!” –Misty in the promo

Just going straight to 11, huh Misty?

See y'all then!

#dimension 20 #the unsleeping city #d20 #asks #kickmuncher3

[cactiem]

The Other Lodge

Chapter Nine: Upper East Side Boy is Back

Pairing: OC x Reader

Requested: Nope

Summary: It’s been a month since Veronica and Jackson have been in Riverdale and they are loving it. That was until their dad came back to town.

GIF Not Mine

Chapter Eight <- Chapter Nine -> Chapter Ten

"Jay-Jay!" Blair squealed, dropping her Chanel bag on the floor and flinging her arms around the tall raven haired boy. Jackson wasn’t surprised that girl in front of him looked exactly the same as she did when he last saw her. That was the thing about Blair, everything about her was perfect. She had perfectly styled brown hair, her clothes were in perfect crisp condition, even the way she spoke was perfectly articulated.

"Blair." Jax greeted, a fake smile plastered on his face to make it seem he was glad that his ex-girlfriend and her family are in town, especially since her parents were standing right there. "I’m so glad you could make it." He lied with ease. "It’s nice to see you again, Mr and Mrs Redfort."

"Likewise, Jackson." Mr Redfort responded. He didn’t hold any grudges against the young boy. Probably because he hopes that one day his daughter and Jackson will get married or something. It seems that’s the hope for every Redfort. Maybe even Hiram as well.

While Blair's parents walked ahead to their room, her and Jackson followed behind. She hooked her arm around his, her hand dangerously close to his own, something they did whilst dating. Jax tensed up at this act but Blair didn’t seem to notice, if she did she didn’t care. "You know, when you moved to this town I thought that it would change you. I’m glad it didn’t." Blair said making Jax stop walking.

"That’s where you’re wrong. I have changed and for the better. I’ve got a girlfriend now who I’m so happy with. So that boy you knew in New York, he’s gone now." He told her.

"Oh please. You can take the boy out of the Upper East Side But you can’t take the Upper East Side out of the boy." Blair smirked, gripping the lapels of his jacket and bringing him closer so she was whispering in his ear. While Jax was trying to get free from her grip, she pressed her lips onto his to stop him. He pushed Blair away immediately without hesitation.

"Why did you do that? I told you I’ve got a girlfriend." Jax asked, his eyes widened in shock. Blair shrugged and smiled innocently at her ex boyfriend. Instead of giving him an answer she continued walking to her room leaving Jackson standing alone in the hallway, bringing his hand over his face.

-

The next day came and Jax was dreading the day ahead. He had to spend the whole day with Blair which, he could already tell, won’t be enjoyable for him. It made him question why he was doing this in the first place. He didn’t care about pleasing his dad so why was he babysitting his ex girlfriend instead of hanging out with you, his current girlfriend. Maybe it is because of the old Jackson still inside of him that he’s tried so many times to squash, the one who felt the need to please his dad with everything he did.

Ether way, it will hopefully be one more day before Blair and her family go back to New York. All Jax had to do was limit the contact you had to Blair. Not wanting her to tell you about the kiss. He knows he should tell you but he just couldn’t. Even Veronica told him that he should tell you. They both knew the kind of person Blair was. Jackson didn’t listen though.

-

You have yet to meet Blair, not that you were particularly eager to. Your friends found it a little strange that you weren’t freaking out about your boyfriend and his ex being around each other. You simply told them the same three words every time they brought it up, 'I trust him.' It’s true. You did trust him. You could tell that he’s changed since coming to Riverdale. Plus he loved you so you had no cause for concern.

"Come on." Kevin said, linking his arm in yours. "I think Ronnie wants to see us in the student lounge." You gave in and let him drag you to the lounge. He was excited to meet Blair, not that he would admit it to you but you knew. Kevin told you that he saw her earlier with Jackson and saw that her bag was a limited edition with only five people in the world owning it.

When you walked into the student lounge your eyes immediately made their way to where the unfamiliar girl was sat. She was pretty, you couldn’t deny that. You unlinked your arm from Kevin’s and went over to Jackson, leaning down and pecking a kiss on his lips before taking a seat next to him. "Hey, Jax." You greeted.

"Hey." He returned while a 'hm' escaped Blair's lips. You refrained from making a comment about that and settled on introducing yourself.

"You must be Blair." You said with your lips turned up into a forced smile. "I’m Y/N, his girlfriend." Blair returned the smile knowing exactly what you were doing. Everyone noticed that any minute your conversation could go hostile. While Jackson wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his chest protectively as if it could protect you from Blair's words, Veronica changed the subject.

"So, there is a little get together at Nick's hotel room tonight and you’re all invited." She happily told the group.

"I think Y/N and I are gonna pass." Jax declined his sister’s invitation. What’s worse than spending the day with Blair was spending his evening at one of Nick St Clair's party’s. Blair let out another 'hm' and this time you couldn’t ignore it.

"Okay, what is your problem?" You asked her.

"Oh, I don’t have a problem. It’s just that, when I was dating Jackson I never told him that he couldn’t go to a party." She provoked you.

"Well, as you just clearly witnessed I didn’t say he can’t go to the party. I don’t control him. He can do what he wants."

"Maybe you should control him though. If you did he wouldn’t have kissed me." You tensed up upon hearing that, your jaw clenched and you moved slightly so there was a gap between you and Jax. "Oh, you didn’t know? Me and Jay-Jay kissed last night. I guess he hasn’t changed after all."

"You’re lying."

"Am I though?" She asked her line of sight, like everyone else’s, was on the man in question. You noticed that he was unusually quiet, not denying it. You also noticed that he could make eye contact with you. That’s when you knew she wasn’t lying. That he has in fact kissed his ex girlfriend.

You got up from your seat, not wanting to be here anymore. You could stay and rip into Blair but what was the point other than making yourself look like an even bigger fool. You just wanted to leave and be alone. Unfortunately, Jackson followed you out of the room and caught up to you. "Y/N, wait!" He called after you. He tried to grab your hand but you snatched it away before he could.

"Don’t. I don’t want to do this right now. I just want to be left alone." You said, your voice cracking as tears threatened to fall.

"Y/N, please. You have to believe me when I say that Blair kissed me. I pushed her away immediately. I would never cheat on you." Jax said trying to hold back his own tears. "Y/N!" He called after you as you began walking away and in that moment he realised that he should have listened to his sister, that not doing so could potentially ruin the only good thing in his life.

-

Jax may have not wanted to go to Nick's get together but that didn’t stop you from going. After the events of today you wanted to drink and forget about it. Even if it’s momentarily. You had one drink after another and soon you were drunk, enough to feel free. Once your head started spinning you stopped dancing and sat down on the couch. You were so out of it that you didn’t notice how close Nick was getting. Luckily Veronica had and stopped him before he could go anywhere with you. She called her brother once she realised that you weren’t slowing down any time soon.

You were practically asleep when Jackson came. You didn’t even realise he came let alone have a heated discussion with Nick before picking you up bridal style and placed you in his car, driving you back home.

Last nights memories may have been blurred but the rest of the days wasn’t. It made you groan and flop back onto your bed once you woke up, not wanting to confront it just yet and especially not wanting to see Blair again. While you were glad you could forget about the situation momentarily you weren’t thrilled about the pounding headache that was your hangover. You decided to sit back up again, carefully as to not make your head hurt, when you noticed a note on your bedside table.

Please call me when you wake up.

Jackson

The fact that the note was off Jax explained how you got home but it didn’t explain who was downstairs. You shot out of bed, immediately regretting it as the pounding worsened, and flung your door open. You could make out hushed voices but they were drowned out by the radio that was on along with the hissing of bacon being put on the pan. Creeping downstairs the voices became clearer and more familiar only making you even more confused instead of clearing it up.

"Morning, sweetie." One of the voices greeted when they noticed your presence in the kitchen.

"Mom, dad, what are you doing here?" You asked, shocked that they were back. The only thing that was running through your mind was that this was a dream, right?

Requests are open

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