at-least-cry-a-little

[at-least-cry-a-little]

I stopped watching this shitshow a million years ago but god, I’d watch a movie about that kid getting all the Beacon hill’s decent parents to collectively take care of him

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Rick: You can't leave and go with Negan!

Carl: Don't worry, I have a permit *Hands his dad a piece of paper*.

Rick: This just says "he can do whatever the fuck he wants. Love, Negan."

Carl: Exactly.

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me, a humble content creator on tumblr dot com

you: *likes my post*

me: !! :D

you: *reblogs my post*

me: !!!!!!!! :DDD !!!! 💛💛🎉

you: *reblogs my post with nice tags and/or comments*

me: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 💛⭐️🎉🎉 !!!!!!! :DDD !!⭐️💛💛💛 !! :D 💛💛💛💛💛🎉🎉

[at-least-cry-a-little]

@weinsanedreamer55 I told a group of kids in my class that I had had a dream in which I became a gargoyle and when I woke up my skin was turning to stone and I had wings, I also picked 2 girls and 2 boys and told them they were my chosen ones and that they would become gargoyles in the following days. They feared and respected me for 4 days until one of the girls chickened out and told her mom, who then told our teacher, who then called my mom, who forbade any more "storytelling" on my part. It was worth it :D

twenty facts about myself

tagged by @socksandtireirons and @weinsanedreamer55 thank you both, I kinda love this because I can read gossip about you two but like… with your consent.

1. My life has improved a lot since I stopped pretending I don’t enjoy songs I do enjoy.  

2. I’m trying to protect my mom form Pinterest and the Tasty videos because she’s an awesome cook but the internet insists on corrupting her.

3. I went to music school for 9 years and kind of play the violin and the piano.

4. I have a love/hate relationship with the Harry Potter saga. Like I love it, but the fans have made me go “ugggghh” any time Harry Potter is mentioned.

5. I used to hunt scorpions and centipedes with my brother when I was a kid and put them in glass jars. W H Y

6. I used to be the Mom friend, but since I started drinking I have been degraded to Aunt friend.

7. The Spanish I speak is the equivalent for the rest of Spaniards to the York Shire accent or the Brummie accent for British people or something equally wtf. 

8. I once asked for a tutoring session with the worst teacher I’ve ever had only to tell him he was the worst teacher I had ever had.

9. I’ve been working for a month in the archive of the city I’m studying in and I’ve found all kinds of shit, special mention to a registry from the 19th century that confirms my family have been the blacksmiths in my town for like seven generations.

10. I wanted to be an astronaut until I was fifteen. Then I actually started studying physics.

11. My first and only romantic relationship to date fucked me up hard.

12. I didn’t have a phone until I was 18, but I had stopped asking for one at 17, when I realized the freedom that came  with not having a phone and your parents could not being able to call you to ask where you are.

13. I’ve only gotten into actual physical fights with people like 4 times in my life. The common theme is I was always trying to protect/avenge someone else. If that doesn’t make me a Gryffindor idk what does.

14. My best friend is also my flat mate.

15. I used to do swimming competitions. I have a bunch of medals.

16. The last day of class in secondary school (I think that’s 10º grade in the US), I was the only student who showed up. Since I was alone and bored I changed all the computer’s desktop images to pictures of Harry Judd naked.

17. I had a car accident with my brother 3 years ago. When they police arrived they looked at our car (upside down and squashed on the side of the road) and asked how were we even alive. I was perfectly fine and I got to ride an ambulance because they didn’t believe me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

18. I have recurrent nightmares about zombies.

19. I tend to ramble first and feel like an idiot later.

20. I was the leader of a cult when I was 8, my biggest achievement to date.

I don’t know who to tag, I’m usually late to this things, if you follow me consider yourself tagged, but under no obligation to do it XD

[at-least-cry-a-little]

twenty facts about myself

tagged by @socksandtireirons and @weinsanedreamer55 thank you both, I kinda love this because I can read gossip about you two but like… with your consent.

1. My life has improved a lot since I stopped pretending I don’t enjoy songs I do enjoy.  

2. I’m trying to protect my mom form Pinterest and the Tasty videos because she’s an awesome cook but the internet insists on corrupting her.

3. I went to music school for 9 years and kind of play the violin and the piano.

4. I have a love/hate relationship with the Harry Potter saga. Like I love it, but the fans have made me go “ugggghh” any time Harry Potter is mentioned.

5. I used to hunt scorpions and centipedes with my brother when I was a kid and put them in glass jars. W H Y

6. I used to be the Mom friend, but since I started drinking I have been degraded to Aunt friend.

7. The Spanish I speak is the equivalent for the rest of Spaniards to the York Shire accent or the Brummie accent for British people or something equally wtf. 

8. I once asked for a tutoring session with the worst teacher I’ve ever had only to tell him he was the worst teacher I had ever had.

9. I’ve been working for a month in the archive of the city I’m studying in and I’ve found all kinds of shit, special mention to a registry from the 19th century that confirms my family have been the blacksmiths in my town for like seven generations.

10. I wanted to be an astronaut until I was fifteen. Then I actually started studying physics.

11. My first and only romantic relationship to date fucked me up hard.

12. I didn’t have a phone until I was 18, but I had stopped asking for one at 17, when I realized the freedom that came  with not having a phone and your parents could not being able to call you to ask where you are.

13. I’ve only gotten into actual physical fights with people like 4 times in my life. The common theme is I was always trying to protect/avenge someone else. If that doesn’t make me a Gryffindor idk what does.

14. My best friend is also my flat mate.

15. I used to do swimming competitions. I have a bunch of medals.

16. The last day of class in secondary school (I think that’s 10º grade in the US), I was the only student who showed up. Since I was alone and bored I changed all the computer’s desktop images to pictures of Harry Judd naked.

17. I had a car accident with my brother 3 years ago. When they police arrived they looked at our car (upside down and squashed on the side of the road) and asked how were we even alive. I was perfectly fine and I got to ride an ambulance because they didn’t believe me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

18. I have recurrent nightmares about zombies.

19. I tend to ramble first and feel like an idiot later.

20. I was the leader of a cult when I was 8, my biggest achievement to date.

I don’t know who to tag, I’m usually late to this things, if you follow me consider yourself tagged, but under no obligation to do it XD

[at-least-cry-a-little]

May Satan bring us together

I wrote another vignette for the Coffee shop/Neighbours AU, it’s a continuation of this first one  :) 

Carl has barely opened the tuna can when he hears it.

“Meow?”

He curses internally before turning around and facing, for the third time in just one week, his neighbor’s cat. That little stripped devil’s spawn. He would think it was a stray if the lady from the 2nd floor, Carol, hadn’t warned him about her.

“You… are being greedy.” He whispers to the animal.

She looks up at him tilting her head. “Meow?”

Carl sighs, knowing he’s given up even before she gets up to rub her entire flank against his calf.

“I hate you.” Carl confesses, setting the can on the floor and heading to the cupboard to get another one for himself.

The cat devours the food with a blissed out expression and Carl rushes to finish his sandwich so she won’t make him give her some of it as well. He stares at her as he chews. Her slender and dark figure makes a striking contrast against the kitchen tiles.

“If you’re going to keep this habit of breaking and entering in my flat I’ll have to call you something other than “cat”.”

She doesn’t even raise her head this time, too focused on getting the last bites from the bottom of the can.

“I’m calling you Satan.”

Eventually, Carl lets himself slide to the floor. He hadn’t realized how tired he actually was until now. The animal moves quickly to his lap, sniffing his hands first, in search of more food, he guesses, and burring herself on his sweatshirt when she accepts there’s nothing else to eat.

“You can pretend to be cute all you want but I’ve seen you hunting rats in the back alley. You’re not fooling anyone, you know?”

She purrs in answer.

Fuck.

“I’m not even a cat person.”

Satan rubs her head against his hand as if forgiving him for his blatant lies.

He spends a while there, scratching softly behind her ears, too relaxed to get up and go to his bed. The only noises in the kitchen are Satan’s soft purr and the hum of the fridge.

He hears the door of the 4th floor apartment when it shuts.

“Sounds like your owner is home now. You should get going girl.”

Satan doesn’t even flinch.

Carl doesn’t want to move. And he specially doesn’t want to meet his neighbor for the first time at 1 in the morning. But he also guesses he would be worried if his pet wasn’t home when he came back from work at ungodly hours of the night.

He remembers Carol’s warnings about their neighbor being an asshole while he gets up, the animal still in his arms. But this man can’t get angry at him for bringing his cat back, right? He wonders just what level of assholery Carol was talking about as he goes up the stairs. It’s not like he kidnapped her, she has her ninja ways of getting into his flat.

He’s still worrying about the different ways his conversation could go in his head when he knocks on the door.

He hears a muffled “…the fuck?” and then a louder “Coming!”

He could leave Satan in the door and run downstairs.

As soon as that thought crosses his head, she opens a big, yellow eye and looks judgingly at him.

By the time he’s finished telling himself that cats cannot read minds, the door is already creaking open and it’s too late to bail.

The door opens and there is his neighbor. The man stands still for a second, taking the sight of Carl carrying his cat in. If he’s half as shocked as Carl is, he hides it well.

He’s wearing an apron over a washed out white t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, and he looks so… domestic, that it could almost be a different person.

But it’s Negan. It’s definitely Negan.

“Hey kid… I see you’ve found my girl, thank you.”

Carl sees Negan’s large hands approaching him and taking the ball of fur from him. His fingers are warm when they brush his own.

“C’mon. I was just finishing dinner.”

“Mm no, no, actually I…” Carl tries to refuse him, even as he’s being dragged in by a firm and on his shoulder.

“I hope you like spaghetti.”

This is surreal.

“You… are… my neighbor?” he had made his mind to the idea that his neighbor was probably a workaholic who worked in some office until late at night or a night guard, given the weird schedules that never aligned with his own.

“It certainly seems like it.” Negan says disappearing into the kitchen for a second.

“I should… I should head back to my own ap…”

“Have you eaten dinner?”

“I… actually have.”

“It was probably prepackaged shit or a sandwich, or a ridiculously small portion of either of the two. That doesn’t count.”

Carl doesn’t know how to answer that and, as he’s thinking of a comeback, Negan sets a plate full of warm, mouth watering pasta in front of him, and his stomach makes a sound that makes Negan smile knowingly.

“You’re welcome.”

“Shut up.”

“I do love it when you’re bossy… Lucille! I see you sniffing that pan, don’t even think about it!”

Oh. Lucille, huh? He can’t help but think Satan suits her better.

But Carl doesn’t say that. Instead, he shoves a forkful of pasta in his mouth and tries (and fails) to suppress a moan. This is the best meal he’s had in the whole week he’s been living on his own.

“You’re definitely trying to make me fat.” he whispers, and hopes Negan hears “thank you” because that’s what he is trying to say.

[at-least-cry-a-little]

Awwnn * u * thank you, that was my intention XD

Defending your Honor

(This is a little vignette or snippet or whatever you call it for this Coffe AU prompt. I may write a couple more mixing it with a neighbours prompt I posted a long time ago. But I am also trash so I don’t know :D )

—

Carl realizes he’s getting fond of The Sanctuary and its bartenders the day he jumps in between Arat and an aggressive client to defend their crappy coffee.

“The coffee is not bad.” Lies. “And no one’s forcing you to come here anyway, if you like those fancy hipster places there are plenty in this area.” that is true at least.

It’s not like Arat needs a skinny nineteen year old kid to protect her, by the way. She places a firm hand in his shoulder to get him to move away and speaks directly to the man, ignoring Carl.

“Do I need to get the shotgun from behind the counter?” she asks, poker faced.

And Carl knows she’s bluffing. Well. He’s 80% sure she’s bluffing. But god, she is scary when she wants to be.

That’s the moment Negan chooses to come in. He immediately stills, sensing the tension in the air.

“Wow! Is there any problem?”

“No, this gentleman here was just leaving.” Arat tightens her grip, warning Carl to keep his mouth shut. “Right?”

The man looks between the two of them and finally backs off, seeing himself outnumbered (not like Arat couldn’t have whipped the floor with him on her own), and grunts a “Whatever.”

Negan holds the door for him on his way out. “Byyye.”

He closes the door and turns to face them, focusing on Carl.

“And who dragged our favorite customer into this? Do I have to kill anyone?” he asks in his typical Negan fashion, which means you don’t know if he’s joking or if he’s mad.

“He tried to help.” Arat answers, turning to Carl. “Don’t do it again.”

She then goes back to cleaning the tables, as if nothing had happened.

Negan scoffs as he gets behind the counter and winks an eye at Carl. “She’s a cold hearted bitch. I…” he points at himself with both hands “however, think it’s very cute that you came to the rescue. Here, have a cookie for your efforts.”

“Are you trying to make me fat?” Carl really wonders some days.

“I’m trying to keep you from dying of starvation. So you can live to see another day and be my knight in shining armor.“ he leans towards the boy over the counter, resting his elbows on it.

Carl tries not to stare at the way Negan’s arms stretch the cotton of his white t-shirt or make a remark on how he really, really doesn’t look like someone who needs anyone else to rescue him very often (the man is already too full of himself as it is). Instead he settles for his usual banter.  

“Keep that up and I’ll end up filling a complaint for harassment.”

Negan laughs.

“Hey kid, it’s you who keeps coming here” he says, raising his hands in a pacifying gesture.

Carl grunts and munches on his cookie so he doesn’t have to acknowledge that he does, in fact, keep coming to Negan’s coffee shop.

“So” Negan starts again, seeing how Carl is not planning to answer. “what was this guy’s problem?”

Carl takes a second to answer because Rick raised him better than talking with his mouth full.

“Hum, the coffee? And the service… and the place. But yeah, mostly the coffee.”

Negan’s face turns serious all of a sudden. “And you defended our honor?”

Carl shrugs.

Negan’s face cracks into a smile “So you do like my place!”

“Like it?” Carl scoffs. “It kinda looks like you rented the cheapest abandoned bar in the area and hired your ex-prison mates as bartenders. No offense.”

Negan takes a hand to his heart and pulls a half mocking, half serious affronted face. “This place, is not cheap.”

Carl waits for him to defend his employees as well, and when he doesn’t, he narrows his eyes at him. Is he implying…?

“You’re joking right?”

Negan gives him a big smile (all teeth, like a shark) from behind the counter, and then turns to attend the coffee machine neither confirming nor denying. 

“Well…” Carl mutters after a couple of seconds. “… I don’t know what kind of coffee they served you all in prison, but it couldn’t be worse than this.”

He can see Negan’s shoulders shake as his deep laugh fills the room. When he speaks, his voice is softer than usual.

“Yet you still come back every day.”

Carl shoves the rest of the cookie on his mouth and runs away to the safety of his table. Negan’s laugh follows him all the way.

[at-least-cry-a-little]

Defending your Honor

(This is a little vignette or snippet or whatever you call it for this Coffe AU prompt. I may write a couple more mixing it with a neighbours prompt I posted a long time ago. But I am also trash so I don’t know :D ) edit: yep there’s a 2nd one now

---

Carl realizes he’s getting fond of The Sanctuary and its bartenders the day he jumps in between Arat and an aggressive client to defend their crappy coffee.

“The coffee is not bad.” Lies. “And no one’s forcing you to come here anyway, if you like those fancy hipster places there are plenty in this area.” that is true at least.

It’s not like Arat needs a skinny nineteen year old kid to protect her, by the way. She places a firm hand in his shoulder to get him to move away and speaks directly to the man, ignoring Carl.

“Do I need to get the shotgun from behind the counter?” she asks, poker faced.

And Carl knows she’s bluffing. Well. He’s 80% sure she’s bluffing. But god, she is scary when she wants to be.

That’s the moment Negan chooses to come in. He immediately stills, sensing the tension in the air.

“Wow! Is there any problem?”

“No, this gentleman here was just leaving.” Arat tightens her grip, warning Carl to keep his mouth shut. “Right?”

The man looks between the two of them and finally backs off, seeing himself outnumbered (not like Arat couldn’t have whipped the floor with him on her own), and grunts a “Whatever.”

Negan holds the door for him on his way out. “Byyye.”

He closes the door and turns to face them, focusing on Carl.

“And who dragged our favorite customer into this? Do I have to kill anyone?” he asks in his typical Negan fashion, which means you don’t know if he’s joking or if he’s mad.

“He tried to help.” Arat answers, turning to Carl. “Don’t do it again.”

She then goes back to cleaning the tables, as if nothing had happened.

Negan scoffs as he gets behind the counter and winks an eye at Carl. “She’s a cold hearted bitch. I…” he points at himself with both hands “however, think it’s very cute that you came to the rescue. Here, have a cookie for your efforts.”

“Are you trying to make me fat?” Carl really wonders some days.

“I’m trying to keep you from dying of starvation. So you can live to see another day and be my knight in shining armor." he leans towards the boy over the counter, resting his elbows on it.

 Carl tries not to stare at the way Negan's arms stretch the cotton of his white t-shirt or make a remark on how he really, really doesn't look like someone who needs anyone else to rescue him very often (the man is already too full of himself as it is). Instead he settles for his usual banter.  

“Keep that up and I'll end up filling a complaint for harassment."

Negan laughs.

"Hey kid, it's you who keeps coming here" he says, raising his hands in a pacifying gesture.

Carl grunts and munches on his cookie so he doesn't have to acknowledge that he does, in fact, keep coming to Negan's coffee shop.

"So" Negan starts again, seeing how Carl is not planning to answer. "what was this guy’s problem?"

Carl takes a second to answer because Rick raised him better than talking with his mouth full.

“Hum, the coffee? And the service... and the place. But yeah, mostly the coffee.”

Negan’s face turns serious all of a sudden. “And you defended our honor?”

Carl shrugs.

Negan’s face cracks into a smile “So you do like my place!”

"Like it?" Carl scoffs. "It kinda looks like you rented the cheapest abandoned bar in the area and hired your ex-prison mates as bartenders. No offense."

Negan takes a hand to his heart and pulls a half mocking, half serious affronted face. "This place, is not cheap."

Carl waits for him to defend his employees as well, and when he doesn't, he narrows his eyes at him. Is he implying...?

"You're joking right?"

Negan gives him a big smile (all teeth, like a shark) from behind the counter, and then turns to attend the coffee machine neither confirming nor denying. 

 “Well…” Carl mutters after a couple of seconds. “… I don’t know what kind of coffee they served you all in prison, but it couldn’t be worse than this.”

He can see Negan’s shoulders shake as his deep laugh fills the room. When he speaks, his voice is softer than usual.

“Yet you still come back every day.”

Carl shoves the rest of the cookie on his mouth and runs away to the safety of his table. Negan’s laugh follows him all the way.

[at-least-cry-a-little]

the light over the confessional [cegan - m]

yoo how about some cegan to brighten up your dashboards?? the dialogue in this wouldn’t leave me alone, so have a random little thing for these two.

enjoy!

[ao3]

“Have you always wanted to be a badass little serial killer?”

“What?” Carl throws the word over his shoulder; he’s half insulted by the question and half confused.

Negan shrugs with a shit-eating grin. “Have you always wanted to be a badass little serial killer? Were you one of those fucks killin’ ants with magnifying glasses?”

Carl rolls his eye. “Hardly. I was a kid when this started.”

“No such thing as starting too early.”

Seguir leyendo

[at-least-cry-a-little]

I AM JUST NOW REALISING I WROTE "BEAR".

I saw the Coffee Shop au thing with Carl as the bartender and I thought it was SO cute

but it also got me really stuck on the idea of Negan being the owner of a coffee shop (called The Sanctuary) and Carl being a regular client because the place is close to his university and although it’s never clean clean, it’s clean enough. Also, somehow, unlike in the other fancy but crowded coffee shops in the area, there is always one table (that he has come to call “his table” in his mind) empty, as if waiting for him.

I imagine Negan would look like the kind of man with a bear and tattoos that makes you wonder if he’s trying to be a hipster and failing or if he’s actually an ex-convict (spoilers: it’s not the former). He would also probably wear an apron and try to feed you spaghetti, no, not that, this is a coffee au.

I like to think that Carl is only looking for some caffeine and a quiet place to plug a laptop and write his essays but Negan ends up feeding him cookies (because he doesn’t think Carl eats enough) and casually offering to “unalive” some professor who’s giving him a hard time, and although Carl never really gets that much work done (what with Negan constant pestering), for some reason, he keeps going back.

[at-least-cry-a-little]

Since I'm not progressing with my fic I'm writing random short vignettes for this prompt. I'm not planning to go anywhere with it. I just want Negan to be an annoying bartender for a little while.

I saw the Coffee Shop au thing with Carl as the bartender and I thought it was SO cute

but it also got me really stuck on the idea of Negan being the owner of a coffee shop (called The Sanctuary) and Carl being a regular client because the place is close to his university and although it’s never clean clean, it’s clean enough. Also, somehow, unlike in the other fancy but crowded coffee shops in the area, there is always one table (that he has come to call “his table” in his mind) empty, as if waiting for him.

I imagine Negan would look like the kind of man with a bear and tattoos that makes you wonder if he’s trying to be a hipster and failing or if he’s actually an ex-convict (spoilers: it’s not the former). He would also probably wear an apron and try to feed you spaghetti, no, not that, this is a coffee au.

I like to think that Carl is only looking for some caffeine and a quiet place to plug a laptop and write his essays but Negan ends up feeding him cookies (because he doesn’t think Carl eats enough) and casually offering to “unalive” some professor who’s giving him a hard time, and although Carl never really gets that much work done (what with Negan constant pestering), for some reason, he keeps going back.

[at-least-cry-a-little]

rules: answer 20 questions + tag 20 amazing followers you’d like to get to know better!

tagged by the lovely @weinsanedreamer55  :) 

name: Isabel nicknames: Isa zodiac sign: Gemini height: 5′2 ? (idk man American measures are weird, 1′60m) orientation: straight ? I think?  favorite fruit: peaches favorite season: anything but summer, honestly (summer in the South of Spain is hell) favorite book: His Dark Materials, Harry Potter and Dos Velas para el Diablo (Two Candles for the Devil) all hold a dear place in my heart favorite flower: lilacs  favorite scent: Lilacs. They’re not even that amazing, it’s just that there was a lilac tree in my best friend’s orchard when I was little and I guess I associate the scent with childhood and happiness.  favorite color: wine red favorite animal: I like turtles coffee, tea, or hot cocoa: coffee average sleep hours: less than I should cat or dog person: cats (but I’ve never had any pets so  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ) favorite fictional character: I don’t have one favorite character, but I’ll go with Mycroft Holmes this time dream trip: I've been promised a road trip to “wherever you want as long as it’s green and mildly cold” with my friends. Britain, Scandinavia or Canada would be awesome. blog created: on December 2016 I think number of followers: 303 (I just checked) 

I tag: any of my followers who wants to do this, honestly, but in particular @bunny-lou @imaginecegan @why-do-i-ship-this because it’s been loooong since I interacted with any of you :)

[at-least-cry-a-little]

TBH I really dont get people who try to turn Cegan into a soft/fluffy ship like IMHO the toxicity and power imbalance is what makes the dynamic interesting to write/read about. If you strip that away then what exactly is the appeal?

[at-least-cry-a-little]

And like a ghost in the silence, I disappear