#& i say this as someone who is a negan fan

[juuuulez]

📰 | epilogue: capulet.

info: Carl Grimes x Saviour! Reader, 6 year timeskip, cute Judith moments, S10 Negan (aka Negan redemption arc), winter vibes because I wish it snowed where I live.

summary: Six years later, Carl and Reader consider what the future holds.

holy shit guys…it’s over! it’s done! writing this was so weird but also i’m very happy with the ending, and also getting to expand on Carl’s character beyond his death in canon was amazingly freeing.

i’ve got some requests to catch up on, but feel free to ask for stuff in the Capulet-canon! i’ll definitely go back to this and do little spinoff oneshots because they r very cute.

i hope you enjoy this as much as i did!

-> masterlist <-

Snow crunches under your feet as you treck back to Alexandria’s walls. A thin layer has dusted itself over your hair and shoulders, falling from the fabric of your jacket with each step. Slung over your back is a bundle of game: mostly rabbits, some squirrels, all tied up at the feet.

They’d designated you to checking the traps, a fairly mundane job that was mostly bearable, sans when the weather was this harsh. Having a small amount of freedom was nice at times, where you could be alone with the woods, though you knew someone was trailing nearby, shadowing your every move.

It didn’t hurt that much, knowing they didn’t trust you. You understood. But it sucked that it was these random assholes who hadn’t even been there during the war. Since when did they get a say?

Regardless, you felt relief as you arrived back home, if you could even call it that. The gates opened with a creak, allowing you inside, a familiar scene yet twisted in so many ways.

It had been six years since the war ended.

Six years of living in Alexandria, carefully under everybody’s watch. Of being torn down and scrutinised for mistakes you’d made as a teenager. Not that you’d call them mistakes, maybe that was your biggest flaw, being too prideful.

Someone comes to collect the bounty, to which you hand over the bundle, not before untying one of the rabbits you’d personally shot. That one would make your dinner tonight, besides, you’d been promising Judith a lucky rabbits foot.

The man doesn’t speak to you, though you aren’t offended. You’ve never been a big fan of small talk. In your opinion, there are very few you have the patience to converse with, and as long as they were still interested, then nobody else mattered.

Speaking of people important to you.

In the distance, you could spot Negan plowing snow along the main road that ran through Alexandria. You internally rolled your eyes, knowing that they’d been giving him stupider and stupider jobs recently.

There’s another figure, a young boy, who’s been tasked with watching him. He sits on a porch, a few feet away, kicking at the frosty ground.

“Hey, you wanna take a break?” You ask him, standing in front of the young male. The rabbit is still slung from your shoulder, along with the bow on your back.

He looks a little confused with the suggestion, and maybe offput that you’re talking to him. “No, I’m.. alright, thank you.” He attempts to brush you off, though clearly remains wary, almost unsettled by your presence.

You roll your eyes this time, not willing to continue this pointless back and forth. “Fuck off, okay? Just for a few minuets. Go waste your time somewhere else.” You demand.

Only a second of glaring down at the boy and he’s scurried off, likely to tell someone of your hostility. That’s one benefit, at least, that not many are willing to engage in a physical altercation with you, as they’d all heard stories of the war.

As you turn around, you catch Negan already watching you. A smile spreads onto your face, despite his rugged appearance, and the snow all over your jacket.

“You’re gonna be in deep shit for that one, you know?” He tells you, as if it isn’t obvious, though his tone indicates that he is pleased to see you again.

Lately, you’d been finding Negan more often around Alexandria, usually gardening or doing some other boring maintenance task. Depending on who was around, you were even sometimes allowed to visit him in his cell.

It hadn’t been like that for a long time, though. For the first four years after the war, you weren’t allowed any sort of contact. It was hard, and you’d struggled with bouts of depression on particularly difficult days, but things were starting to look up again.

“I don’t really care.” You shrug, smile turning into a downright grin as you approach. “Can’t make me do anything worse than hunting in dead-winter.”

As you crossed the path, Negan’s smile grew tender. He extended his arm to you, palm cupping the back of your neck and thumb moving the snowy hair from your face.

Though he had many regrets, letting you get caught up in everything was the biggest. In many ways he felt like he’d failed his job, which was to foster and protect a young girl. Yet, time and time again, you were put in harms way.

“What about plowing snow?” Negan sarcastically suggests, leaning on the handle of his shovel. The notion made you frown, straightening out the blue shirt he wore.

“No jacket?” You question, brows furrowed while you looked up at him.

The concern on your face made Negan smile, having watched you grow from a reckless teenager to a conscious young woman. “Nah. I have thick skin, doll.”

Regardless, you roll your eyes, trying to swallow your concern as you look to the snowy path. “I’m gonna ask someone about getting you warmer clothes.”

“I should be the one that’s worried,” Negan points out, “Hunting in this weather? It’s like they’re tryna’ kill you.”

He says it with a slightly bitter tone, genuinely irritated despite the fact that you’ve lived quite comfortably in Alexandria over the years. More so than him, certainly. Yet, the concern makes you smile, regardless.

“Someone’s gotta do it,” You justify with a shrug, “Trust me, I tried to dodge. Been feeling kinda shitty recently.”

“Shitty?” He echos.

“Yeah. Just.. bleh, y’know?”

Negan gives you a stern look, “I don’t know.”

You roll your eyes, not wanting to worry him over something you’d already written off as insignificant. “Just feelin’ icky lately, maybe a bit nauseous. I think this weathers fucking me up.

This causes him to let up a little, though you don’t miss the smug grin on Negan’s face as he continues to shovel snow. “Don’t sound like the weather,” He remarks, “Sure you aren’t pregnant? You and Carl are probably breedin’ like bunnies now you’re living together.”

The vulgar attitude never usually phased you, but this time your brow furrowed, glaring over at the man. “Don’t be gross.” You grumbled.

Luckily, Negan lets up, knowing this may be a soft spot for you. “Fine, I’m just teasing, doll. But you’ll tell me if it gets worse?”

“Yeah,” You agree, hoisting the supplies on your back a little higher. “I’ve gotta go get this rabbit skinned. And I’ll see about that jacket, okay?”

In return, he gives you a semi-enthusiastic thumbs up, though you know the emotion isn’t there. It makes you smile. You’ve truly missed him over these years, and seeing the toll imprisonments had on his attitude is jarring.

Nonetheless, you treck further into the community, locating your place. The small house sits near the back end, away from the main commotion, which you’ve grown to appreciate over time. Originally, you stayed there with Aaron, who was tasked with keeping an eye on you.

Then it was Rosita, and occasionally Tara. Back then, you were equally rude and hostile, and made a point to prove your disdain towards the entire situation. Of course, over the years, those walls melted away and you were forced into a state of acceptance.

Now, there was nobody watching over you. At least not in the safety of your own home. With the rate he was over, Carl practically lived there, though you knew he just didn’t like being in his own house with Rick gone. You’d understand how that would be unsettling.

The door creaked when you opened it, the haul causing you to bump it open with your hip. You dumped the bag at the door, and managed to unhook the bow with one hand.

You ventured further inside, intending to throw the dead rabbit onto the back porch to skin it. But you barely made it three steps down before your mission was halted, two arms snatched around your waist and tugging you back into a firm body.

“Jesus,” You huffed, “I didn’t hear you.”

Carl looks down, eyeing the left side of your head, completely flattened with the absence of an ear. “Shit. Sorry.” He apologised, having momentarily forgot in his haste to greet you.

The injury had thankfully healed, but your eardrum was ruined beyond repair. You were completely deaf from one side.

“I’m also wielding a dead rabbit, so watch out.” You remind him, shimming in his hold so that you’re face to face, though you hold the rabbit at an arms length away from his body.

“Then.. is this a bad time to kiss you?” He asks, and though it sounds genuine, the little smirk on his face indicates that your answer doesn’t matter.

You roll your eyes, a smile growing on your own face. Somehow, after all these years, you still get all bashful. “Never a bad time.”

No matter how much time passed, his lips would always feel perfect on your own. Carl kissed you like you were precious, made of porcelain, and the idea that someone was capable of being so gentle excited you. That, and it let you take control, something you lacked in your current life.

You shimmied your spare hand out of the snowy glove, so that you could wrap it around his neck. Lately, Carl had been letting you trim his hair, though you opted to keep it that same shoulder length, thinking it made him just adorable. He wore the bandage less, too, at least when at home.

Coming up for air, Carl pressed another tender kiss to your cheek, holding you a little closer. “Your hand is really cold.” He whispered.

In response, you dragged your palm over his face, squishing the cold flesh into his cheek. He groaned, finally letting go of you, seeeking reprieve from your snowy fingers.

You were finally able to continue down the hallway, though his footsteps followed right behind.

“Do you want to catch dinner with everyone?” He asked, “They’re cooking the rabbits down by the church.”

“I hate everyone.” You point out, bracing yourself against the cold air outdoors. There’s a metal peg hanging from the back porch, which you affix the rope onto, allowing the rabbit to dangle from its feet.

You can hear Carl has stopped behind you, leaning against the back door. “Besides, I think I wanna stay in. Still feelin’ kinda rough.” You say with a shrug.

It’s like a fish on a hook, where Carl can’t resist clinging to every little word you say. “Still? Do you need to see a doctor?” He suggests, worry in his tone.

Trying to ease his concern, you let go of the rabbit, giving Carl your full attention. “I don’t think so. I’m sure it’s nothing. A cold.”

Carl takes this as permission to dig deeper, wanting to find the root of this issue. He approaches, one hand settling on your hip, the other feeling your forehead. Though your temperature feels fine, he still remarks, “You don’t look like you have a cold.”

“Okay, genius. When did you get your degree?” You quip, the snappy attitude earning you an unamused glare, though it only takes a second before Carl is kissing your forehead, where his hand was.

It irritates you to no end that he’s so forgiving. But over time, Carl has learnt that you get defensive easily, expressed in irritated remarks that can turn borderline cruel. It’s his sign that something is wrong, but he needs to back off for the time being.

“I’ll skin the rabbit. You can lie down.” He suggests.

Your eyes narrow into a glare, not liking the insinuation that you can’t handle it. Though, you’re unable to be properly angry, knowing that he is trying to help. “Thank you.” You end up whispering in agreement, setting aside your pride for the time being.

With that aside, you decided to go and clean up from the hunt. There were little bloodstains on your jacket, so you left it hanging in the laundry for now, intending to deal with it later. Your boots were left at the door, and you quickly walked into the bedroom, intending to wiggle out of the snowy clothes.

Your hair was slightly damp, scalp a little sore from having it tied up all day. So, you padded into the bathroom, hoping to have a hot shower. But the second you looked in the mirror, you remembered what Negan had suggested. Albeit jokingly, but he still said it.

It was like a cruel history repeating itself. Being pregnant was a death sentance, in your eyes. Your own mother had died of birth complications, and that was before the apocalypse. That’s not to mention Lori.

Just the idea made you feel sick again. Scrounging through the bathroom cabinet, you found the beat-up packaging of a pregnancy test you’d stashed after finding it on a run. Just looking at it, all decorated in pink, made you feel worse.

You left it on the counter, hoping a shower would clear your head.

It didn’t.

The test was taunting you, staring at you through the foggy frosted glass of the shower. As much as you hated the notion, it wouldn’t leave your mind unless you got it over with. It was time to bite the bullet.

Still soaking wet from the shower, you fumbled with the box, hands shaking as you read the instructions. Whilst you peed into the little cup, you thought back to all the times you’d been intimate with Carl. The pair of you were relatively safe. But, maybe… maybe there’d been a few times you slipped up.

God, Negan was right. The pair of you were animals. It was like a late puberty, you couldn’t help it, you wanted to jump him at every opportunity. And now, this was your punishment.

A positive pregnancy test.

More like an execution date.

You spend a good ten minutes sitting on the bathroom floor, this indescribable weight on your chest. It gets heavier as time goes by, and you convince yourself that you may actually be unable to breathe if this continues.

Pulling on some clothes, you slowly inch from the bathroom, hair and skin still wet, though that doesn’t matter anymore. You can’t tell Carl, but at the same time, you need to.

You come to a stop at the back of the house, and before you can open the door, you notice Judith through the window. She’s sitting on the porch, talking with Carl as he attempts to skin the rabbit. His technique isn’t very good, but she doesn’t know any better. You hadn’t heard her come in, too busy wallowing in your own panic.

She stands, accepting a knife that Carl offers her, attempting to mimic his actions and take a chunk of fur off the rabbit. Judith struggles, not having the right angle, causing an uneven slice through the rabbits thigh.

Finally, you give in, pushing the door open. “You two are gonna butcher my rabbit.”

Judith turns to you, an eager smile on her face. She offers the knife, handle up like she’d been taught, “Show me?”

Though you accept the knife, Carl interjects, “She’s just had a shower, Jude.” He points out.

“It’s fine,” You assure them, rolling up the sleeves of your pyjama shirt despite the biting cold, “I’ll wash off with the hose. Now watch me, both of you.”

You teach the siblings how to properly skin a rabbit, explaining little tips and answering all of Judith’s questions. Though you’d come here to break some terrible news, you somehow find yourself feeling a little better. Watching Carl try and teach Judith something was heartwarming, and you wondered if he’d be this attentive with his own child.

That, and making Judith an aunt would be a gift in itself.

Later that night, you walk Judith back to her house, where Michonne was already waiting for her. She seemed relieved to know Judith was with you and Carl, given the girl had a tendency to investigate into some of the darker cracks of Alexandria.

There was still that one, heavy piece of information weighing on your mind. Though, it seemed to get lighter and lighter as time went on. When it came time to sleep, you were comfortably nestled against Carl’s side, your head resting on his shoulder.

The words were right there, on the tip of your tongue. It would be so easy to blurt out, yet you felt like doing some preemptive damage control.

“Would you ever wanna have kids?” You ask in a whisper, almost completely inaudible.

Given the circumstances, Carl finds the inquiry pretty strange. He shifts a little, laying on his side, so that you’re forced to face him.

“Maybe.” He says, though he sounds a little unsure of himself.

But maybe isn’t a no.

You stay silent for a moment, unsure of how to proceed now that you’ve gotten your answer. The silence causes Carl to grow curious, curious as to what has sparked this sudden interest.

“Do you?” He asks, looking you right in the eye, which makes you squirm a little.

Everything points towards your admission, but you can’t force the words from your mouth. So you just lay there, watching him, looking a little pent up and almost slightly guilty.

Fortunately, Carl isn’t stupid. He’s quite attentive, actually, especially when it comes to your health.

That, and he’d already found the empty test box in the bathroom, crumpled into the wastebin.

“C’mon.” He whispers, pulling you back into him, arms wrapped around your form. His hand makes its way into your hair, fingers twirling in the strands, keeping your head pressed firmly against his chest.

Carl swallows the lump in his throat, similarly unable to address the issue at hand. But maybe you’d rather he didn’t. “I love you, okay?” He ends up whispering, words uttered against the crown of your head.

You muster a little nod, shifting to worm your arms around his torso. You mirror his tone, quiet and hoarse, though that weight is finally beginning to disappear.

“I love you, too.”

[bring-forth-his-sac]

The Christmas Party - Finale!

summary: the Christmas Party is finally here! … and you and Negan are not on good terms

tags: Modern AU, Teacher AU, Gossip, Swearing, Pet Names, Slow Burn, Misunderstandings, Flirting, Kissing

word count: 7.1k

A/N: this is the final chapter! thank you to everyone who's read this and left comments!! For some reason, I always hesitated doing multi-chapter fics because I didn't think my writing was good enough to keep people captivated for more than one chapter but this has given me a serious confidence boost! and that's thank to all of you!

Merry Christmas and I hope you enjoy!!!

Negan doesn’t know if you can be pussy whipped when you’re not getting any pussy, but damn that’s exactly how he feels with you.

He’s always been a fan of temporary pleasures, quick fixes for the emptiness that gnawed at him. He wasn’t interested in long term or relationship—at least, not in the way most people understood it. Love was something people with hope clung to. 

And Negan? He had lost hope a long time ago.

He’s had women, plenty of them, but none of them have ever meant more to him than a night of fleeting connection. Negan never made a fool of himself ice skating for some pussy, nor has he ever wined and dined them.

And he would say he still hasn’t, mainly because that would mean referring to you as just another piece of pussy. And no matter how hypocritical it may be, he doesn’t like that.

He doesn’t know how you do it, how you can penetrate the walls he’s spent years putting up. You’ve never been impressed by his bravado or his flirting. 

No, instead you’re the sweet type. You like the little moments, the playfulness, the cheeky texts neither of you should be sending during work hours.

Negan’s known it for a while now. He doesn’t want you like the others. He doesn’t want a night away or a quick fix. He wants the ice skating, the banter throughout the work day, the hot chocolates and dinner dates. 

Fuck, all you’ve given him is a kiss and Negan’s smitten. 

Waking up the morning after your sweet kiss, you’re the first thing that pops into Negan’s head. More specifically, it’s you in his truck, his leather jacket over your shoulders and eyes crinkling at the corners as you laugh at some dumbass joke he made. 

He woke up alone, having gone home the night before and spent an hour on the phone to Mark Smith. 

Negan couldn’t believe he actually sat on his couch and willingly listened to his colleague talk about some upcoming market by where he’s staying in Jamaica. Negan even asked Mark how his wife and kids were doing– voluntarily!!

He didn’t recognize himself anymore. The pain, while still there, isn’t as strong. Negan can’t find the strength to harness that resentment he had at the world and himself. 

Because how could he hate himself when he’s had your sweet lips on his not even 24 hours earlier?

But his Thursday goes downhill from the get go. Negan has a pep in his step as he leaves his house, quickly locking the door behind him before heading for his truck. A part of him hopes the smell of your perfume will still be lingering in there.

Aaaand that’s the start of a very bad day. Negan never gets to his truck, instead stopping a few feet away when he sees someone else parked behind him. 

His lips twist downward in a slight sneer. It’s the kind of look that says, “I don’t like you, and I’m not hiding it” without needing to say it aloud.

Sherry has her car parked directly behind Negan, purposefully blocking him in. She stands outside, her arms crossed as she tries to keep warm. 

“Hi…” she says plainly, trying to ease into this. 

When he speaks, it’s deliberate. His voice is dry, almost bored, but the weight of his words hangs heavy. "This is private property, ya can’t park there" Negan’s tone is laced with the kind of casual authority he’s so used to. 

It’s not a request. It’s not even a command. It’s a fact, something he’s not even sure needs to be said, but he does anyway because she’s standing there like this is some kind of game. 

Starting for his truck again, he only stops when she says his name.

Sherry huffs, rolling her eyes. Of course he won’t make this easy. “Negan,” her tone is firmer now “I want to cash in that I-owe-you. Now”.

His hand rests on the truck door but he doesn’t make a move to open it yet. Instead, he turns his body slightly, pivoting so he’s facing her fully now. Negan’s posture tightens, shoulders squared. 

“And you think that means you show up to my home at…” he makes a point of bringing his wrist up to read his watch “seven forty five in the damn morning?”.

“I said whenever and wherever,” she shrugs “and I remembered where you lived, so…”. 

Now it’s Negan who rolls his eyes. Because, yes, out of everything, he needs a reminder that he brought her home once upon a time ago. 

Seeing his little cooperation is shrinking, Sherry cuts to the chase “You have a motorbike, right?”.

“Used to” he corrects her vaguely. Medical bills are a hell of a hit to the balls… and bank account.

“Ok, good,” opening the passenger door to her car, Sherry begins to walk back over to the driver's side “well, get in”.

Negan doesn’t move. “This is kidnapping” he states.

Sherry tries not to lose her patience, nibbling on her bottom lip so she doesn’t let out a string of curses. “No, it’s the favor you owe me,” she corrects “and it’s for Christmas, so c’mon”.

Despite every fiber in his being telling him not to, Negan takes a step closer. “Unless you’re gonna drop me off at the school, we’re gonna be late” be points out.

With the wave of her hand, Sherry dismisses him and gets in. “It’ll be fast” is all she says to assure him.

Glancing back to his truck one last time, Negan sighs before reluctantly getting into Sherry’s car.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

By the time Negan gets to work, he’s pissed off, late and hungry. You’d think as the head cook of the cafeteria, Sherry would’ve had some snacks hidden away in her car but nope, Negan had to starve.

Negan tries to stay positive. He reminds himself that once he knocked out a few more classes, he would have time to do something he’d been looking forward to—setting up the Christmas tree with you. 

But as the day drags on and the hours tick by, his phone remains suspiciously quiet. He sent you a few texts, nothing crazy, just simple check-ins asking when you’d be free to hang out later. 

A casual message, nothing too pushy. But now, after getting through some classes, it has been hours and there still isn’t a reply.

At first, he figures you’d just busy, maybe caught up in teaching or managing your unruly students. He knows you have a lot on your plate and he didn’t want to be that guy who expecta instant responses. 

It’s fine. He’s patient. You’d get back to him when you have the chance.

But as lunch rolls around and there’s still nothing, he can’t shake the nagging feeling that something isn’t right. It’s subtle at first, just a flicker of unease, but it grows with every passing minute. 

He finds himself glancing at his phone more often, tapping his fingers against the desk, trying to focus on his work but getting distracted.

Something is off.

Negan gives the little pumpkin statue on his desk a quick rub, as if the small gesture might bring him some kind of luck. 

He doesn’t know why he’s so worked up. It’s not like he’s a clingy guy. But the silence between you two today? It’s not like you and it’s starting to eat at him.

First stop is the teacher’s lounge. Empty. He checks your classroom next— locked. No sign of you. Then, he heads to the sports hall, hoping you might be there, finishing something up. No luck.

Hell, he even hangs around the women’s toilets for a minute. It’s stupid, he knows, but he figures if you’re dealing with that time of the month, you might need a minute. 

He leans against the wall, trying not to look too out of place, but when Sasha passes by with a raised brow, he realizes how ridiculous he looks.

“Shit,” he mutters, pushing away from the wall.

He’s not the clingy type. He knows that. But by the time lunch comes to an end, he’s sent you a decent amount of texts. 

Negan: you ready for the tree?

Negan: it’s in the hall

Negan: u ok?

Negan: is this hide and seek? Where are you?

Negan: hellllllllooooooooooo? My messages are going through so I know you don’t have me blocked

More classes pass and Negan’s patience wears thinner with every passing minute. He yells at a group of rowdy students, his voice echoing through the sports hall as he orders them to watch out for the cheerfully decorated tables as they do their jumping jacks. 

He checks his watch, the second hand ticking a little too loudly for his liking. It’s almost the end of the school day and Negan can feel the weight of his frustration pressing down on him. 

He hasn’t heard a damn thing from you, not a single text, not even a “Hey, I’m busy.” Nothing.

And the silence? It’s driving him nuts.

By the time he’s checking the teacher’s lounge again, he’s about ready to give up… but then it happens. Just as he’s walking by Ms. Peletier’s classroom, the door clicks open.

You step out.

It’s like a moment of clarity hits him and for a second, all his frustration melts away. There you are— looking like you’re trying to escape something. 

You’re not your usual self. There’s something different about you today, something… timid. You’re not holding eye contact, your shoulders are a little hunched like you’re trying to make yourself smaller.

“Holy fucking shit,” Negan says, his voice full of relief “I was about to send out a search party, where the fuck have you been, doll?”

He expects a smile, some kind of warmth in your eyes. But instead, you tense. For a heartbeat, your body locks up, like you didn’t expect to see him. 

He watches, confused, as you quickly gather yourself. For a second, he thinks you might be walking toward him, like you’re about to talk, to explain yourself.

But then, just before he can take a step forward, you say it.

“Fuck off”.

Negan’s a man that likes to curse. He likes to throw in a few fucks, pricks, shit balls, whatever he feels in the moment. 

But this is different. 

The curse slices through the air, harsh and bitter. The venom in each syllable sticks in his chest like a jagged piece of glass. 

Negan’s stomach drops. He watches you walk past him, not even sparing him a glance and strut down the corridor without breaking stride.

For a moment, he’s frozen. The anger, the confusion— it all hits him at once. He isn’t the kind of man who gets easily thrown off, but right now? Damn right he feels uneasy.

“Woah, sweetheart, what’s that for?” Negan calls after you, confusion and hurt twisting his words. 

He takes a step forward, instinctively wanting to follow you but before he can move another inch, a voice calls his name.

“Negan.”

He turns, annoyed, ready to snap at whoever’s interrupting him but when he sees Carol standing in the doorway of her classroom, he stops dead.

“Let her go,” she says, her tone calm, but firm.

His brow furrows. What the hell is this?

“What?” He takes a few strides toward her, his voice rising. 

Carol raises a hand, palm out, silencing him before he can continue. “Let her go,” she repeats, her expression unreadable “She’s not interested”.

Negan’s chest tightens. Her words hit him like a punch to the gut but it’s the way she says them so matter-of-fact that makes him freeze in place. He opens his mouth, but the words don’t come. 

He looks at her, searching her face for some hint, some sign that this is a misunderstanding. But Carol doesn’t flinch. Instead, she just watches him, her eyes steady. 

“She’s not interested,” she repeats, softer this time, but still unyielding.

The truth stings. It settles over him like a weight, heavy and suffocating. The realization that everything he thought he knew about what was happening between you two—what he thought was real—might have only been a quick flash in the pan.

Negan stands there for a moment. The hallway around him feels too quiet, too empty. His chest tightens again and he can’t tell if it’s from anger or hurt or pure disbelief.

He looks back down the hall,  where you disappeared, then back at Carol. With a sharp exhale, Negan turns away, heading in the opposite direction without saying another word. 

What else is there to say?

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Friday feels like damnation, and not just because of the party. You purposely come in earlier than usual, not wanting to run into Negan as you set up the last remaining decorations for the gym. Even Joey isn’t in yet.

You can still feel the rush of anger, the way it surged through you when you saw them together, Negan and Sherry. You wouldn’t say you’re a jealous person but to see them arriving together, after everything?!

After Sherry warned you away from him, the dates that weren’t dates you went on with Negan… the kiss. You wonder if you didn’t move fast enough for him and if he went straight to Sherry’s after dropping you home that night. 

You’re pissed—so fucking pissed—but more than that, you’re hurt. The way he acted around you was like you were something special. It was as if maybe, there was something more between you two, more than banter and attraction. 

But now? Now it feels like a fucking joke. He’s out there, probably flirting with whoever is next on his hit list while you’re here, stewing in your own mess of feelings and sticking wreaths on to tables.

You want to punch something just to feel like you’re doing something to get rid of this ache in your chest. 

Your mind races—did they sleep together? Was it just another one-night thing for him? Did it mean nothing? 

The thought of it gnaws at you, each question digging deeper. The betrayal, the feeling of being tossed aside, his voice when he called after you yesterday, the knowing look on Carol’s face when you told her what you had seen… It's too much. 

You wish you could cry but you’re too damn mad. So you keep working, head down, fighting the sting of tears that are just waiting to break through. 

The good news is the sports hall is finally done, besides the Christmas tree that was never put up. 

The high, vaulted ceilings are draped with thick strands of sparkling tinsel in gold and silver, catching the light from the overhead fluorescent bulbs and making the whole room shimmer.

Long rows of tables are now covered in bright red and green cloths, each one bordered with tinsel and a wreath hanging off the front. Paper snowflakes some of the students made dangle from the walls, swirling like an indoor blizzard.

Around the room, there are signs that read things like “Merry Christmas!” and “Season’s Greetings!” in big, bold letters and decorated with holly.

Even the basketball hoops are dressed up, with thick, red ribbons tied in bows around the rims, and a few oversized ornaments dangling from the netting. 

Everywhere you look, there’s something to bring a smile to your face— and yet that’s the one thing you can’t do. 

“Well, hello there,” you don’t tense when you hear the masculine voice. 

It doesn’t have that deep drawl Negan’s does. Nor does it make you want to shiver and purr at the same time.

“Hi, Joey” You don’t even glance at him as you say it, your eyes fixed on the twinkling lights that are tangled up in tinsel, casting a soft glow across the sports hall. 

“The place looks great!” he says, his voice a little too bright as he walks deeper into the room, clearly trying to make conversation.

“Uh-huh,” you reply, your voice flat and distracted “It’s basically done now. Just have to run home after school to grab the drinks, and it’ll be ready”.

You don’t want to engage much more than that. The last thing you need right now is small talk or having to deal with anyone else. 

“And the food?” Joey presses, his tone a little too chipper.

You force a tight-lipped smile, your jaw set as you turn toward him briefly. “Can you let Negan know that’s his shit to sort?” you ask, trying to keep your voice neutral, though it comes out cold.

“Uh—sure! Yeah!” Joey nods quickly, probably sensing the shift in your mood but not wanting to push it. 

Without waiting for another word, you head toward the door, not bothering to look back. The last thing you want is to stick around the hall in case Negan shows up unexpectedly. 

You can feel the tension already creeping up your spine at the mere thought of seeing him, of dealing with whatever’s going on between you two.

So, you leave, eager to put some distance between yourself and the mess you’re caught up in.

The school day drags, yet somehow, it feels like it’s slipping away too fast. The hours blur together— teaching feels more like a flurry of words and half-attention from your students as they count down the minutes to the end of the day.

You try to keep them engaged but it’s obvious they’re all just as eager for the holidays as you are. 

The morning feels slow, like every minute stretches just a little too long. You try to get through your classes but every time the clock ticks, your mind drifts back to the party— back to everything that’s been weighing on you. 

By the time you hit the afternoon, you’re caught in this weird mix of excitement and dread. Each class passes, each bell that rings to signal the end of a period feels like a countdown to something you’d rather not face.

The students, for their part, are bouncing off the walls. They’re eager to get out, to be free from school and homework and whatever else hangs over them. 

You watch them, their chatter almost deafening and you can’t help but feel a sense of urgency in the air. It’s almost like the whole school is vibrating with the countdown and the seconds feel like they’re slipping through your fingers.

The lessons go by in a haze—you’re teaching, but you’re not fully there. You’re running through the motions, reciting your notes and trying to keep your class on track but you know that the closer you get to the end of the day, the closer you get to the party, to seeing Negan again, to dealing with whatever awkwardness looms between you two.

Finally, the last bell rings, the sound cutting through your thoughts like a knife. You breathe out a little too heavily, a mix of relief and frustration swirling inside you. 

It’s over.

The school day’s done. 

The holiday break is here and the party is just around the corner. You grab your things quickly, eager to get out of the classroom but the thought of facing the party, of facing him, slows your steps.

You want a moment of quiet before everything kicks off but you can only have such a luxury when you get home to quickly dress into something a little nicer and bring all the alcohol back here to the sports hall. 

The noise in the hallways is deafening, students filing out, chatting excitedly about the break. Your thoughts, though, are already on the evening ahead. 

You rush home, the quiet of your place a welcome relief after the chaos of the day. You head straight to your room, pulling off your teaching clothes and slipping into something nicer for the party—nothing too fancy, but enough to feel put-together. 

A soft sweater and dark jeans, something comfortable but still festive. You grab the bottles you’ve set aside for the party, having to make multiple trips to your car before they're all loaded.

A quick glance in the mirror tells you that you’re ready but the knot in your stomach tells you the opposite. You grab your keys and head out the door, locking it behind you before making your way back to the school. 

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

It’s almost half six when the first few people trickle in and you’re glad to see their faces. 

For the past forty minutes, it’s just been you, Joey and Negan in the hall, stealing plates and cups from the home ec room and putting all the drink on display. And in that forty… long… minutes, you and Negan exchanged a total of seven words.

“Where’s the tequila?” he basically huffed at you.

“Still in my car” you retorted, giving him the same energy.

You got a grunt in response and he yelled at Joey to go out and grab it as Negan left to get more plates.

But now the sports hall is buzzing with that awkward in-between energy—everyone’s showing up but the party hasn’t fully kicked off yet. There’s a nice hum of conversation, teachers hesitantly reaching for liquor and some commenting on the decorations.

Every time you cross paths with Negan, you veer the other way. It’s like there’s an invisible wall between you two, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. 

You’re doing your best to keep yourself busy— lining up glasses, making sure the food table’s stocked thanks to the newest light in Negan’s life, Sherry (you swear you’re not jealous)—but it’s hard to ignore the tension, the way Negan moves around you, not quite looking at you but not completely avoiding you either.

In one corner of the hall, you see Aaron head towards the large speaker that sits silently waiting.

After a few seconds of fumbling with the speaker, the opening chords of ‘Last Christmas’ filled the room, too loud at first, making everyone glance at each other nervously, unsure if they were meant to sing along, dance, or just pretend it wasn’t happening.

Some teachers head over to the food. Thankfully, you haven’t run into Sherry yet, nor is that something you wish to do. But to give credit where credit is due, the food smells delicious and it’s not as plain as the food usually served at the cafeteria. 

Fingers quickly grab skewers of chicken satay or tiny puff pastries as the music loops on, providing a kind of strange comfort. 

"I swear," Morgan says as he fills his plate, laughing awkwardly as he nudges a colleague "I only came for the pigs in blankets".

Everyone chuckles the first real laugh of the evening and suddenly the awkwardness seems to melt away, if only a little. Yet it’s enough to kick off the night.

As the evening stretches on, the awkwardness begins to fade into something more familiar, a sort of communal ease that only happens when you’ve spent enough time around people you mostly like, but don’t quite know how to relax with. 

You stand back and watch, nursing your drink. 

A few teachers have found their rhythm, wandering between the buffet table and the cozy clusters of conversation, laughing a little too loudly and talking shop just enough to remind themselves they’re not too far from the classroom.

Jesus walks up to you and a few others, gesturing towards one of the empty corners. “Where’s the tree I gave you guys?” he asks curiously, no annoyance in his tone.

Taking a deep breath, you struggle for an answer “We uh, ran out of time to put it up”. 

Jesus gives a quick laugh and a nod, taking your answer for what it is. “And you still have the extra baubles I donated too?” he clarifies, taking a sip of his drink.

You nod and hesitantly explain “Yeah, the tree and baubles are uh… they’re under the bleachers. We didn’t have the space in the storage room”.

Looking around at the other teachers listening, Jesus smiles “Well then, who’s game for putting up a tree?”. 

Before you have time to process that, there’s a burst of energy. 

Jesus and Morgan help bring out the tree. Tara takes the box of baubles, standing with her hands on her hips as she looks down at the box. 

Aaron, ever the optimist, picked up a string of lights and began untangling them with the patience of a saint.

You stand there with a surprised look plastered on your face. Even the people who aren’t helping, stand by and watch. Michonne snaps a few pictures before typing on her phone, no doubt sending it to her husband or Carl. 

Jesus, who has already taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, grabs the tree stand. 

“The tree’s the easy part,” he tells the crowd “the real challenge is making it look intentional when you know it’s probably just going to be… well, a mess”.

Eugene, who has been quietly inspecting the box of ornaments with Tara, looks up at the group. 

“I must admit, I find the idea of a decorated tree somewhat... quaint. But I’ll go along with the sentiment if it makes the rest of you happy,” Eugene says, picking up a candy cane ornament “Plus, I believe we can all agree—Christmas lights are critical”.

Aaron chuckles “Of course you’d have a whole theory about the importance of lights”.

With Eugene’s help, the tree is quickly set up and anchored in its stand, though it wobbles slightly, as if unsure of its purpose. 

“No, no, no, it’s leaning to the left!” Gregory tries to direct them. As you all listen to Gregory and Sasha bicker whether the tilt gives the tree character, you notice a figure lurk closer to you.

Out the corner of your eye, you see Negan. His every movement seems charged, as if he’s on the edge of saying something but never does. And you? You’re not sure what to say either. 

So instead, you both continue this dance, each of you pretending that the other isn’t right there, just a few feet away, caught in the kind of silence that screams everything without a single word being spoken.

“And where’s the tinsel?” Rosita rummages through the box of ornaments. 

“I think there’s some old tinsel in the storage room,” you call out, wanting an excuse to get away from him “I’ll go get it!”.

Negan lowers his head, watching through his lashes as you hurry off to the storage room. He suppresses a sigh, wondering if it’s really that hard for you to be around him.

Do you seriously prefer the cramped, shitty old storage room compared to him? 

This should have been fun. You two should be celebrating! Fuckin’ finally! You’ve made it and now the others are having the time of their life by willingly doing a team building exercise! 

Right now, you should both be teaming up to haggle Michonne for a raise, not barely looking at one another.

And yet Negan can’t do it. He can’t find the words to say this to you. And so he stays in his spot and listens to the others make the task of decorating a Christmas tree seem impossible.

Ten minutes pass. 

Still nothing. No you. No shitty tinsel. Just a whole lot of avoiding. 

Negan can’t believe this. You’d rather hang out in the storage room? Or quietly slip out early? All that hurt and tip toeing around each other starts to bubble in Negan, slowly reaching it’s boiling point.

With a sharp turn, he makes his way through the crowd and towards the storage room. He figures he’ll check in there first and then check the parking lot to see if your car is still here. 

His hand comes straight out as he opens the door with enough vigor to make it fly open. Not that he’s thinking about the door when he sees you, just standing there.

“Are you really gonna hide on me?” He starts, boots slamming against the messy floor as he leaves the doorway and walks deeper into the room, closer to you.

For a split second, you freeze. But as you see your opportunity for escape closing, you rush forward. 

You don’t pay any attention to his question, trying to get past him as you blurt “Wait! Stop! Don’t let the door—”.

But before either of you can reach it, the door slams shut with a resounding thud, cementing back into its frame. Negan’s anger falters when he realizes what just happened.

He doesn’t know how many times he warned you about the old storage room door being hard to open from the inside, yet here you are— and now him, victim to the heavy door.

“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me…” His voice drops to a low, venomous growl as he steps back to the door. He tries to yank it open once, twice, thrice! And yet it stays in place.

With the click of his tongue, Negan looks to you “You seriously got yourself locked in here?”.

You don’t appreciate the mocking tone and so you bite back “Yeah and now you have too!”.

With a sigh, Negan leans up against some of the boxes. His anger is gone and now he’s just unsure what to say to you

You step up and try the door again. You yank the handle again, twisting it violently but the door stays still. 

“Dammit!” You mutter under your breath, before you get a new idea and begin banging on the door. 

“Hey! Hello? We’re in here! Help!” you shout, your voice rising with each strike. 

Unfortunately it’s still not enough compared to the loud thumping of bass and jingle bells from the Christmas music blaring in the adjoining room.

Negan watches you with a mixture of bemusement and annoyance. He chuckles lowly, folding his arms across his chest.

“Well, that’s one hell of a performance,” he comments with a grin, the sarcasm dripping off his words. Stopping for a moment, you throw him a glare before continuing again.

“You’re bangin’ on beat with that Christmas nonsense. Hell, they won’t hear you over the jingle bells and whatever crap is playing” he points out, taking no notice of your glare.

You stop, staring at him with an annoyed look “I don’t need your commentary right now, Negan”.

He shrugs, uncaring “Just callin’ it like I see it. Looks like you’re stuck with me. Again”.

Ignoring his comments, you listen to the party outside. Laughter. Chatter too loud that it drowns out your shouts for help. The occasional cheering as they continue to decorate the tree. 

“Sounds like they’re having fun” you grumble.

Negan waits a moment before replying, his tone losing his sarcasm “So should we”.

There’s a tightness when he says that— but not the good kind. You’ve always been one to blurt things out, Negan should know that better than anyone. 

Although hearing you quietly mutter “Yeah, I’m sure you and Sherry should be having the time of your lives”, throws Negan’s head in a tailspin. 

“What? Sherry?” The edge is back in his voice as he asks, making you go quiet again. 

You shrug in response.

He narrows his eyes as you stay silent. When you don’t say a word, Negan shakes his head “Fuck, I thought we were gettin’ somewhere, and now? Now this shit?”.

Negan takes a breath before deciding to start small. “Why’re you bringing up Sherry?” he lets the question hang in the air.

Eyes flickering to the ground, your voice feels tight as you reply “I… I saw you with Sherry, arriving to work with her, and—”. You stop yourself, biting back the words. 

It doesn’t matter that you stopped anyways as Negan interjects with a slightly sarcastic laugh “You thought I’d what? Sleep with her?”.

He steps closer, trying to get you to look at him.

“Doll, she just wanted to cash in that I-owe-you,” he says before deciding you’ll need more of an explanation “she wanted to buy her boyfriend a motorbike for Christmas but she knows fuck all about bikes… I, however, have had my fair share so I went with her to get give her my expert opinion. Nothing more. I just spent the morning looking at shitty second hand bikes”.

You nod, eyes still down as you process his answer. But now it’s Negan’s turn to get some answers.

“You really think I’d kiss you, then go and sleep with someone else right after?” his voice is firm but tinged with hurt “Is that how little you think of me?”.

That makes you look up, eyes wide before they soften with regret “No! I don’t— It’s just, you didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to think. You didn’t tell me anything about her or what you were doing”.

You hesitate, realizing how much you’ve misinterpreted “I should’ve talked to you first. I’m sorry, I just… I didn’t want to make a fool of myself”.

A few hollers can be heard in the sports hall as Negan pauses, letting out a slow exhale.

“You don’t have to apologize for giving a damn. I get it, though, how that would’ve looked,” he runs a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself “I mean, Sherry and I, that was a one time thing that neither of us want a round two of”.

You nibble on your bottom lip, unsure whether you’ll like the answer to your next question but needing to ask nonetheless. “So… what did happen? Back then, between you and Sherry?”.

His posture shifts slight as if he’s physically as well as mentally letting down his guard. 

“Sherry and her man were on a break, she wanted a distraction…” he trails off, letting you fill in the details “and then when they got back together, she had to really prove to the guy that she wasn’t interested in me anymore so she went from thinking I was good enough to fuck, to straight out hating me”.

“Huh… I kinda presumed you just cut contact with a lot of them after the deed is done” you reply, not expecting to hear that Sherry hated Negan anyways, whether or not he ghosted her.

“Oh I do sometimes, other times it just fizzles or it’s decided beforehand that it’s just a one night kinda thing” he explains “We both get something out of it”.

“A two way system” You call it.

Negan tilts his head as he thinks, “‘I wouldn’t exactly call it that. It’s just… mutual benefits.

A faint smirk ghosts his face “A two way system is you arguing with me, me arguing with you, you taking me on a date, me taking you on a date, me flirting with you, you flirting with me”.

You can’t help the smile at that, rolling your eyes teasingly, any annoyance you had for Negan melting away.

He continues, poking his tongue out of his mouth “Me kissing you.. you shoving your tongue down my throat”.

“I did not do it like that!!” You exclaim with a laugh.

He chuckles, his own annoyance gone now too. “You’re right, you’re right,” he concedes before thinking up a better way of saying it “you… oh so subtly slipping that dainty tongue of yours into my mouth all sexy like”.

“I didn’t use tongue!” You declare, throwing your hands up before the playfulness fades into a somber silence.

“I am sorry,” you reiterate ”I guess I should’ve trusted you more. I should’ve asked, instead of assuming.”

He gives you a look you can only describe as tender. 

“Yeah, well, I’m not exactly the talking-about-feelings kinda guy and I kinda thought you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore,” he tells you, his voice a gentle hum “But if you’re asking— I want this. I want you. No more games, no more misunderstandings. Just… us. Alright?”.

A small, relieved smile tugs at the corners of your lips, tension easing. “I think that would be nice” you agree, trying to drown out the loud Christmas music during your intimate moment.

There’s a quiet between you both, no more words needing to be exchanged. Negan begins to move again but instead of heading towards the door, he briefly disappears to the back of the storage room.

“Negan?” You call out.

He strolls over to one of the old boxes and starts to look through it. The musty smell of forgotten storage fills the air as he pulls out a dusty, crinkled piece of tinsel, its once-silver strands now dulled and faded with time.

“If we’re all good now…” he says as he stops and reaches down into the box “y’know what we gotta seal it with, right?”.

His mouth twitches with a hint of amusement and as he steps back toward you, dangling that goddamn piece of old mistletoe in front of you. 

His expression is half-mocking, half-playful, as if he’s trying to make light of getting stuck in here. 

You look at the mistletoe and then back up at him. “Well, it is tradition…” you tilt your head up, expecting to see that cocky expression of his but instead it gives way to something more sincere.

Before you can say anything, he’s lifting the mistletoe above your heads, positioning it just right. 

Not being one to waste time, Negan presses his lips to yours, the kiss soft at first, just a light brush but as if giving into the moment, you deepen it. 

His lips are warm and steady against yours. The taste of him lingers as it becomes more heated. Negan drops the mistletoe, both of you each other instinctively pulling closer.

His lips press more urgently against yours, like he's unable to hold back anymore. His hand slides from your waist to the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair, pulling you into him with a force that makes you gasp into his mouth.

That gasp seems to push him further, the heat between you intensifying. His tongue sweeps against yours in a coaxing manner. Backing away, you pull him with you until your back is flush against another stack of boxes. 

There's nothing tentative about this anymore; it's a powerful, consuming kiss, raw with hunger and desire.

Negan’s hands slide under your festive sweater, skin on skin. The contact sends a shiver down your spine, heightening every sensation. Your fingers clutch at his shirt, needing more of him, more of this. 

His body presses against you, hips aligning with yours, and the pressure builds as you feel the weight of him against you. His breathing becomes heavier, his chest rising and falling in sync with the erratic make out session.

The words around you fall on deaf ears, neither you or Negan paying attention to the Christmas music or the mumbling of Gregory outside saying “It’s in here, you say? Oh Christ!”.

Suddenly the music is clearer and another light source shines across your face. “Mm?” You question, although it’s hard to get the words out with Negan’s lips still on yours.

Pulling away, you see a look of shock and disgust on Gregory’s face.

He clears his throat, trying and failing to regain some semblance of control. “This… this is—uh—what is happening here?” his words came out in a disjointed jumble, bringing the other’s attention to the storage room.

“They’re together?!” you hear Rosita’s voice.

“You didn’t know about them?” the voice of Michonne reaches your ears “Carl told me they were a couple ages ago!”.

Suddenly you realize you’re like a deer in headlights, just frozen and watching. That is until Negan takes you hand in his and yanks you out of the storage room while the door is still open.

You follow his lead, letting him bring you out to the middle of the sports hall until he turns to face you again. His hands find their home on your back and he begins to sway to the slow Christmas song.

“Are we… dancing right now?” You question, clasping your hands around the back of his neck. 

The others stare for a few moments before carrying on with whatever it is they were doing beforehand. Some drink, some stuff their faces and chat, while others grab a partner and dance too.

Negan doesn’t answer with words, instead giving you a little spin before finding you back in his arms.

“So… you still spending Christmas alone?” Negan says it casually, though there’s a subtle trace of concern in his tone.

You inhale before replying, shifting slightly in his arms “Yeah”.

“You sure about that?” He leans in a little closer, his face now just inches from yours, as though trying to read between the lines. 

There’s a small, almost imperceptible shake of your head, showing you’ve already made peace with the decision as you sigh “I think it’s for the best I don’t change plans now and go spend it with my family”.

“Yeah, sweetheart, I was kinda trying to crash your plans, not suggest you skedaddle out of town” Negan’s grin widens, and he gives you a playful nudge

“What?”.

His smile deepens as he watches your reaction, fully aware of how bold he’s being. “Well, you’re spending Christmas alone, I’m spending Christmas alone,” he explains “we get on like a house on fire, you’re hot, I’m hot”.

“Negan!” you exclaim, a mix of embarrassment and amusement flooding your chest.

“I’ll bring the mistletoe” the offer hangs in the air, and you can feel the moment shifting, building toward something neither of you is fully ready to name, but both are undeniably feeling.

“… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if you were there too” you slowly admit “but you have to bring me a present!”. 

Negan chuckles, keeping his hands on the small of your back as he looks up and pretends to think. “Hm… I might be able to do that” he says. 

He tries to act as though he’s debating the condition, as if he hasn’t already bought you things.

A cinnamon candle.

A pumpkin statue to match his own.

A winter coat that will actually keep you warm (that may have some leather accents so you’ll match his own jacket).

Some snacks he’s been picking up whenever he’s out.

And a list he’s made himself of the corniness Christmas movies he could find on the many streaming services that are around.

“Maybe I could do with that mistletoe now,” you tease, showing off your actual flirting skills.

Negan smirks down at you, one of his hands trailing up your back as you both sway to the music.

“Darlin’ I think we are way past mistletoe now,” he quips back before he leans down.

Despite being in the sports hall that made you and Negan go at each other’s throats. Despite being surrounded by your colleagues …

You kiss him.

[nausicaamusiclover20]

Hi! I’m so in love with your James fics, so I was hoping I can put down a request. Load!James x actress reader, but they are keeping it secret - he thinks that all the Hollywood events are stupid and “not metal” so she always goes alone. It’s all ok, until her co-star in the biggest movie of the year (I’m imaging someone like RDJ or Negan from TWD) says on an interview that “if she’s been his, he’d show her off to anyone cause dating her is the biggest privilege any man could have”. He also sends her flowers all the time and James confronts reader. But she’s so tired of keeping it secret and she thinks James is ashamed of her. So they have an argument and kinda break up.

But, in a few weeks, before she gets ready to go to Golden Globes/Oscars James shows up, in suit no tie and apologies, and he doesn’t want them to be a secret anymore. So they make their red carpet debut?

Thank you so much, I hope you like it!❤

Breaking the Silence

I adjusted the strap of my dress, twisting to make sure everything sat perfectly in the mirror. The floor-length gown shimmered with every movement, elegant yet bold—exactly what tonight’s event required. The gala was a big one—promoting the movie I’d just wrapped, and Robert Downey Jr. was my co-star. Everyone would be there, and though I wasn’t exactly looking forward to it, I knew the press would be.

“Hey,” I called out, stepping into the living room where James sat with his guitar, strumming idly. He barely looked up as I asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to come with me tonight?”

He shot me a look, raising an eyebrow. “And stand around with a bunch of people pretending to like each other? No thanks, babe. Not my scene.”

I sighed, leaning against the doorframe. “I get it, but it’s important to me. It’s Robert’s movie. It’s going to be a big deal. I need you to show up just once. Please?”

James met my gaze, setting the guitar aside. He came over and cupped my face, his rough hands grounding me. “You know I support you. But I’m better here. You go, be the star. I’ll be here when you get back.”

I offered a faint smile, but it didn’t quite reach my eyes. I had a feeling this would be one of those nights where I’d feel more alone than ever. As I walked out the door, his refusal stung.

The event went exactly as I expected. Photographers shouted, posing requests, while I smiled and waved, doing my best to keep my professional face on. But I couldn’t shake the thought of James, somewhere miles away, unwilling to stand beside me.

Robert Downey Jr., ever the charismatic charmer, was the life of the evening. He made jokes with the press, posed for countless selfies with fans, and even interrupted my own interviews with his usual flair. It was hard to ignore him.

Later, during a joint interview, I found myself sitting beside Robert, who was practically glowing in the limelight.

“So, Y/N,” the host began, turning to me, “what’s it like working with Robert? You two have such great chemistry on screen.”

I smiled, shooting Robert a playful glance. “It’s great. He’s, uh, a bit of a handful, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Robert laughed, leaning toward the mic. “She’s being modest. I’m a lot of handful, but she keeps me in check. Honestly, I think it’s a crime that we don’t get to make more movies together. But hey, I’m just happy to share the screen with someone like her.”

I laughed nervously, trying to keep it casual. But the host, sensing the tension, continued. “There’s been a lot of talk about your off-screen connection. What do you think, Robert?”

Robert grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Look, if I had a chance with Y/N, I’d never let her out of my sight. She’s too amazing to hide. Honestly, any guy would be lucky to have her by his side. She’s the real star here.”

The cameras clicked wildly as I forced a smile, trying to mask the discomfort. Robert’s words, though lighthearted, dug into me in ways I didn’t expect. There was truth there, but also a twinge of something else—something I wasn’t sure I was ready to face.

The apartment was dead silent when I walked through the door. The sharp, familiar sound of an old grunge track echoed from the speakers, but it didn’t cut through the tension that hung in the air.

I barely had time to put my keys down before I saw it.

The bouquet.

Red roses. A ridiculous, over-the-top arrangement that didn’t even look real. And the note. Robert’s note.

“For the most beautiful woman in the room tonight. You deserve all the attention in the world. - R.”

I was already irritated, but seeing those words made my blood boil. It was like he was rubbing my face in it. The whole charade.

Before I could process anything, I heard a door creak open. James. He was already home, and standing in the kitchen, his eyes locked on the flowers, a storm of frustration building in his gaze.

“Really?” His voice cut through the air like a knife. “Flowers from Robert?”

I felt my stomach twist in that familiar knot. “It’s not a big deal, James. It’s just part of the promotion. He’s just... doing his job. That’s all.”

James’s gaze didn’t falter. “Not a big deal? He’s practically throwing himself at you. And you’re acting like it’s just another Thursday.” He took a step forward, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t see how that looks?”

I exhaled sharply, trying to stay calm, but I was starting to lose it. “I didn’t ask for this, James. I didn’t ask for him to send me flowers or make a spectacle of it. He’s just... doing what he does to keep the buzz going about the movie.”

James’s face tightened, and his voice started to rise. “You’re letting him do it. You’ve let him get close—too close. And now you stand there, acting like it’s nothing? How the hell am I supposed to react to that, Y/N?”

I could feel my frustration bubbling over. “I’m not okay with it, alright? But I’m trying to do my job. I’m stuck in this world where he is a part of the movie too. This isn’t just about me, you know? Robert’s a part of the damn promotion, and I’m just... dealing with it.”

James’s face went from angry to cold. “So this is your excuse? Letting him parade you around, sending you flowers, and you’re telling me that’s just ‘business’? Are you serious?”

I shot back, my voice shaking with the weight of everything. “You really think it’s that simple? Because you refused to come to one damn event, because it wasn’t ‘metal enough’ for you, now you’re accusing me of letting him do all this? You’ve been pushing me away, James. I wanted you to be there with me, but you were too busy hiding, too busy telling me it wasn’t your world. And now you’re mad because someone else is showing me attention?”

James’s eyes flashed, like I’d just slapped him in the face. “I didn’t come to those events because I didn’t want to be a part of this damn circus, Y/N. I thought I was protecting you from it. I thought we were different. But now, it’s like you’ve just accepted it. You’ve gone along with it.”

“Protecting me?” I couldn’t stop myself from laughing bitterly. “No, you weren’t protecting me. You were protecting your damn ego. You refused to show up because it didn’t fit your image. And now you're pissed because someone else is giving me the attention you never bothered to?”

James stepped closer, his voice low but full of heat. “You don’t get it, Y/N. I didn’t want to drag you into this. I didn’t want this world to swallow you up. But now, I feel like I’ve been replaced. Like I’m just some afterthought, and he’s the one that’s getting to show you off.”

I felt my chest tighten, the anger, the hurt, all mixing into a storm. “You don’t even see it, do you? You think you’re the only one who’s been hurt by this? I never asked for any of this. I never wanted to be in the spotlight, but what I did want was for you to stand by me. I wanted you to show up for me, to be proud of us, instead of hiding behind your walls. You’ve made me feel like I’m not enough, like you’re ashamed of me.”

James’s face twitched, and I saw it—the moment he realized how much he’d screwed up. “I didn’t think it would matter... I didn’t think I was hurting you. I thought... I thought staying out of the limelight would protect us.”

“Well, it hasn’t, James,” I snapped, my voice breaking. “It hasn’t protected anything. And it sure as hell hasn’t protected us.”

We stood there, the silence thick and suffocating. He reached out, like he was going to touch me, but stopped himself. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Y/N. I never wanted to make you feel like this.”

I swallowed hard, the sting in my chest making it almost impossible to breathe. “Then why didn’t you fight for me, James? Why didn’t you fight for us?”

He ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tight, eyes closing briefly. “I thought I was doing what was best for us... by staying away.”

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head in disbelief. “You thought staying away was what was best? You’ve been avoiding me, avoiding everything. I can’t keep pretending that this is okay when it’s not. I can’t keep waiting around for you to decide you’re ready to be with me. I deserve more than that, James.”

His eyes softened for a split second before hardening again, and I could see the shift in him. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. But... I’ve messed up, haven’t I?”

I nodded, my tears threatening to spill over. “I think... I think we need space. I don’t know if I can keep doing this. I don’t know if I can keep waiting for you to come around.”

I turned, grabbing my jacket off the chair. James was silent, his hand clenching at his side as I walked toward the door. “I’ll be back when I’m ready to talk. But right now, I just need to figure things out.”

The days after the fight were suffocating. My head was spinning with everything we’d said to each other, the words that felt like knives one moment and then like a shield the next. But mostly, I felt the pain. The hurt of wanting him, needing him to be there, but he wasn’t. And worse, I wasn’t sure if he ever would.

But then came the Golden Globes.

I had to go. It was my job, my career, my life. But I couldn’t shake the emptiness I felt without him by my side. The thought of walking that red carpet without him made my chest tight.

Standing in front of the mirror, I finished my makeup, but my mind kept wandering back to James. To what we said. To what I said. And it hit me—what I was really angry about. It wasn’t just that he wasn’t there. It was that I wanted him to care enough to be there. And that thought hurt more than anything.

Just as I was about to leave, there was a knock on the door.

My heart skipped a beat. I knew who it was before I even opened it.

There he was. James. Standing in the doorway, looking unsure and a little hesitant, but so much more vulnerable than I’d ever seen him before. He didn’t say anything at first. He just stood there, like he wasn’t sure if I was going to slam the door in his face or invite him in. I wasn’t sure either, honestly.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. “I messed up. I shouldn’t have pushed you away like I did. I should’ve been there for you, and I wasn’t. And I know I hurt you, and I’m sorry for that.”

I blinked, my throat tight. I wasn’t sure what to say, because part of me still felt the sting of everything he said the night of the argument, but another part of me just wanted him to hold me, to tell me everything would be okay.

“I didn’t think you were going to come back,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended. I looked away for a moment, trying to steady myself. “I didn’t think you wanted to. I was... I was mad at you. And I didn’t think you’d care.”

His eyes softened, and he stepped inside, closing the door behind him gently. “I’ve been an idiot,” he said. “I’ve been too proud to admit that I was wrong, and I’ve been scared of... I don’t even know what. But I should have been there. I should’ve shown you how much I care. I’m sorry, Y/N. I never wanted to make you feel like you weren’t enough.”

I felt a lump in my throat, and I took a shaky breath. “I wanted you to care enough to show up,” I whispered, almost afraid to admit it. “I wanted you to want to be with me at all those things. To be proud of me. I didn’t need the flowers or the... whatever, I just wanted you there.”

There was a long pause, and then James reached out and gently cupped my face with both hands, forcing me to look at him. “I know, and I’m so sorry. I thought I was protecting you. I thought all that stuff—those events—were just distractions. But I see now that it wasn’t about the events. It was about me being there for you when you needed me, no matter what.”

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to keep my emotions in check. “I was angry,” I said softly. “And... and I know it wasn’t fair to take it out on you. I didn’t... I didn’t think you deserved that.”

James’s voice was tender when he spoke again. “No, you were hurt. And you had every right to be. But you didn’t deserve to feel alone, not from me. And I’m sorry I made you feel that way.”

I wiped my eyes, sniffing a little. “I care about you so much, James. And I just... I wanted you to show me that you cared too, you know? But I shouldn’t have exploded like that. I should have just told you how I felt, instead of pushing you away.”

James nodded, his thumb brushing the tear away from my cheek. “You don’t have to apologize for feeling the way you did. I made you feel like you couldn’t rely on me, like you were in this alone, and I hate that I did that. But if there’s anything I want you to know, it’s that I care about you more than anything.”

I looked up at him, feeling the weight of everything we’d been through. “I just want to feel like I’m not too much for you. Like I’m enough, like I’m worth the fight.”

“You are,” James said softly. “You’re more than enough. And I’ve been a fool not to see that.”

I closed my eyes, feeling a mix of relief and lingering pain. "I’ve been so angry, but part of me was angry because I wanted you to fight for me. And I didn’t feel like you were."

“I know,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “And I’m sorry. I wasn’t fighting for you. I wasn’t fighting for us. But I am now. I’m not running anymore. I’m right here. And I’ll always show up for you, Y/N. I swear.”

I felt the anger in me start to dissolve, replaced with something softer, more vulnerable. “I’ve missed you. So much.”

“I’ve missed you too,” he said, pulling me into his arms. “But I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.”

When we walked onto the red carpet, I felt like a new person. The flashing cameras, the chaos of the event—it all felt secondary to the man beside me. James had his hand gently resting on the small of my back, his touch grounding me, as if telling me everything was going to be okay. The familiar tension that had marked the past few days faded. Instead, it was replaced with something lighter, warmer.

I glanced up at him and caught his eye. For a split second, time seemed to slow. His lips curled into a small, but genuine smile. It was like everything from before had melted away. I smiled back, a quiet understanding passing between us.

We walked a little farther down the carpet, the flashing cameras only a distant hum in the background. His hand found mine, his fingers curling around mine like it was the most natural thing in the world. I felt his thumb trace the back of my hand absentmindedly as we stopped for a photo op.

Every time I looked at him, he was looking back at me, those quiet moments of connection that no one could capture with a camera. He didn’t say anything, but I could tell by the soft look in his eyes that he was just... happy to be there with me. Happy to be by my side, showing the world that we were together.

I leaned in slightly, my lips brushing against his ear as we posed for the cameras. “I didn’t think this moment would ever come,” I whispered.

James’s gaze softened as he turned his head just enough for our eyes to meet. “I didn’t either,” he replied, his voice low and serious, but there was a glimmer of playfulness in his eyes. “But I’m here now.”

I smiled, feeling my chest lighten. The anger, the hurt—everything that had weighed me down for days—was slowly starting to fade. And in its place was something real, something I hadn’t expected: hope. Hope for us.

We continued down the carpet, and as we did, I couldn’t help but steal little glances at him. Every time, he was looking back at me with that same warmth. The tension had dissolved, but in its place was something more intimate, more comforting.

I couldn’t help but smile every time our eyes met.

He leaned in again, his voice almost a whisper. “You look amazing,” he said with a smile that made my heart flutter, his gaze lingering on me just a moment longer before he turned to face the next wave of photographers.

I felt my face flush slightly, but I couldn’t hide the smile that spread across my face. “Thank you,” I replied softly, squeezing his hand, my fingers threading through his.

It wasn’t just the smiles or the glances—it was everything. The way we fit together again, like we always had, but with a new understanding. The kind that could only come from working through the mess and the hurt, and realizing that we were still here, still standing side by side.

I didn’t care about the flashing cameras anymore. I didn’t care about anything other than the man walking beside me. The world could be watching, but for me, this moment was just ours.

[mrsnegan]

Only If For A Night

[Soooo...yes, I might have yet another obsession with a fictional, emotional unavailable man, haha. This is just a little drabble for you. I still write for Negan, of course. In the meantime, I hope you also enjoy this little fic. If it isn't your cup of tea, feel free to scroll past it.]

Summary: Joel has a nightmare. You try to make him feel better, make him forget his demons, only if for a night.

Warnings: angst, brief talk of trauma, smut, blowjob, fingering, unprotected p in v, f!Reader on top, creampie, cockwarming I guess?

You woke from heavy breathing and occasional grunts coming from the makeshift bed on the other side of the room.

Joel had insisted to sleep on the sofa, offering you the bed for as much comfort as this world still beheld. He was gruff, not a big fan of casual conversation, but he was a man of his word, one you could rely on, the only one you trusted with your life. You had met some months ago during a smuggling mission and had worked together since. Your new job required you to transport ammunition to one of the safe zones well outside of your usual territory. It was risky to say the least, but you needed the reward. So here you were, finding shelter for the night in an abandoned house. Joel must have fallen asleep during his watch which was very unusual for him. You rubbed your eyes which slowly adjusted to the darkness around you. Your bare feet touched the wooden floor and you shivered. As soundless as possible you made your way towards Joel who was fast asleep, one arm hanging down the sofa, the other draped across his eyes.

"Joel?" you questioned carefully, your fingers lightly touching his arm. He still breathed heavily, unevenly, and with your next touch to his heated skin, he jolted awake and upright, eyes wild with fear. You had never seen him like this, it made your blood freeze.

"Jo-Joel?" you asked again, this time very timidly, carefully.

He seemed to wake up fully, recognizing you. With a deep sigh, he rubbed his hands over his face.

"Sorry for scaring you, t'was a nightmare..." Joel's voice was heavy with sleep, barely above a whisper. "It's always rough 'round this time of the year."

This time of the year.

He talked about when the world turned to shit. You had heard about his past, about what happened to his daughter, but never asked him anything about it. It wasn't your place to talk with him about such traumatic things.

"It's okay, you're awake now, I'm here."

He scoffed at your remark, his eyes not meeting yours.

"That's sweet o'you, but it isn't somethin' you can influence. It's my issue, has been for a very long time. I'm used to it."

You huffed at his statement, deciding to ignore it, carefully sitting down beside him.

"Go back to sleep, it's still dark outside", he tried again, but you just shook your head.

"No, won't let you sit alone with your nightmares."

Joel's eyes met yours, his icey stare bore into you, he was pissed you could tell, though it seemed too tired to really make a scene.

"Wasn't an offer," he just spat, voice cold and distant.

"Mine neither", you stood your ground, meeting his gaze with equal determination. Before you could think about it any longer, you leaned into him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

At first he didn't respond, didn't move a single finger. When you pulled away to look at him again, he just looked at you, a mix of surprise and anger plain on his face.

"Told you to go to bed."

"No. It isn't your decision to make, Joel. You're always in charge, always functioning. You're not okay. And I won't sit around or sleep when you're hurt like this."

"You're not my wife," he said, nearly muttered under his breath.

"I know," you just mumbled, heart beating fast. Of course being someone's wife wasn't on your list, it held no special meaning in this fucked-up world, though you couldn't deny the feelings you had developed in the last few months. The need to help Joel, the need to touch him, to touch his body and his heart, to make him smile, if only a little, to make him feel good...it was hard for you to ignore this need, this pull you felt towards him. Even harder now that he really needed comfort even if he would never ask for it because he was so used to deal with his demons all on his own.

"Just let me...," you tried again, your hand resting lightly on his arm. You felt him tense under your fingertips, not used to a tender touch either, your tender touch.

Joel didn't meet your eyes, his gaze was fixed on your hand. He seemed to fight with himself, not sure if he wanted to push you away or pull you into him.

"Joel," you whispered, making him look up to you. "Please, let me make you feel good. Let me-"

You couldn't end your sentence, Joel's hand grabbed yours on his arm, before he brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your fingertips before letting it go.

The shaky breath you drew in was the only sound in the abandoned house. Lightly, carefully, your fingers grazed his lips, his cheek, before you leaned in again to kiss him. This time he kissed you back, slowly but he did. The kiss lasted a long time and grew more passionate with every passing second. His hands wandered from your hair to your shoulders, downwards to your hips and urged you to stand up and straddle him.

His hands were all over you while you ground down on his lap, feeling his hardening length through your trousers. He grew impatient by the second, clawing at your clothes while not breaking the kiss. This felt better than any wet dream could prepare you, better than what your imagination came up with in lonely nights.

Your lips wandered downwards, kissing his jaw, his neck, his collarbone. Meanwhile your fingers undid the buttons of his shirt, one by one, exposing his chest to the cold air. Noticing the goosebumps right away, your lips kept kissing his skin, feeling him shiver.

"Fuck," he mumbled, when your nails grazed one of his nipples, followed by your tongue.

With every downward motion, you also slid down further, sooner than later landing on your knees between his spread legs. He looked so handsome from your perspective, cheeks heated, mouth agape, eyes wild.

Biting your lip, you undid his belt, then the button of his trousers and the fly. When you motioned to help him pull them down, he stopped you.

"You don't have to do this."

Heart still beating fast, your desire got the best of you, kissing his hard length through the denim of his trousers.

"Shit," he swore, his head lulling to the side.

"I want to, so much," you answered him, face mere inches from his groin.

"It's yours, darlin', c'mon, make me feel good," Joel finally exclaimed, voice thick with arousel.

You didn't have to be told twice. With fast movements you helped him pull his trousers down towards his ankles, his briefs went with it too. When your eyes met his hard cock, your mouth watered. He was a sight, packing exactly what you always imagined.

Experimentally, you kissed his tip, tasting the salty precum. Joel's moan was music to your ears, so your fingers grabbed the base of him, stroking his length with enough pressure to make him shake above you.

He was silent except for the occasional moan and curse, enjoying your touch, the feel of your hand around him, pumping him just right. When your lips finally closed around the head of his cock, his hand flew into your hair, anchoring himself.

"Fuuck-," he managed to say before you went down on him, swallowing as much of him as you could at the first go. Feeling the wetness between your thighs, you kept bobbing your head, taking him deeper and deeper with your movements. What didn't fit in your mouth, you stroked with your hand.

Joel was much more vocal now, his own thighs tensing with the pleasure, fingers still woven into your hair.

"Shit, so good. Such a good girl, fuck, feels so...gooood."

The deep sound of his voice made you tingle all over, moaning around his length with the praise he gifted you with.

"Up, c'mere," he demanded after some moments, guiding you away from his throbbing length by your hair.

"Take off your clothes, darlin'." He let go of you, lips puffy and eyes hooded and he didn't need to tell you twice. With shaking fingers, you got rid of your trousers and underwear, pulled your shirt over your head and made quick work of shedding your bra. Meanwhile Joel, not taking his eyes off of you for a heartbeat, drinking in every inch of your skin, got rid of his already open shirt and kicked off his trousers and underwear still stuck at his feet.

When you were cold at the beginning of the night, you only felt heat now, naked from head to toe, bare and vulnerable, but the gaze Joel gave you made you feel anything but. You felt like a goddess.

Straddling him again, your wet center came in contact with his length which pulled whimper out of your mouth and quiet curses out of Joel's. His right hand travelled from your cheek towards you neck and from there down, down, down, groping your breats, finding its way over your stomach to your dripping pussy.

Two of his fingers stroked you while your eyes fluttered shut at his ministrations.

"Look at me," he exclaimed, voice deep.

Your eyes shot open, locking with his just in time for his fingers to enter you. He met no resistence, sliding in perfectly, fucking you slowly.

"Fuck, darlin', you're so wet, y'hear that?"

He pumped his fingers a bit faster now, the sound of your wetness obscene in your own ears. With your mouth agape, your hands flew around his neck to anchor yourself, your hips kept moving with Joel's strokes, like having a will of their own.

"That's it, fuck y'self on my fingers, just like that."

"Joel," you moaned, feeling him curl his fingers just right, his thumb coming down on your clit, flicking it with the right amount of pressure to make you see stars. Your hips stuttered, clenching around his fingers when you came with his name leaving your lips.

He held you steadily in his lap with his other hand by grabbing the flesh of your hips, pumping his fingers time and time again before he retreated them.

The bliss of your orgasm clouded your mind, your legs and arms felt like jelly, your heart beating so fast, faster than you were used to. You didn't register Joel lifting you up a bit to position himself at your entrance, stroking himself, coating himself in your juices. You didn't register it until he pushed into you, pulling you down, down, down, impaling you on his girthy length. He was a tight fit, stretching you deliciously.

"Fuck, Joel," you babbled, cock-drunk, and so full of him.

"Yeah, I know. Shit, you feel so good, so tight." He kissed you, tongue licking at your lips and slipping past them. His hands embraced you, keeping you safe and secure while he bottomed out.

His heated skin against yours, his hot breath against your neck when he broke the kiss to nip at your skin, his heartbeat, fast, so fast against your own chest, you could have died then and there.

Hands still around his neck and secure in his embrace, your hips kept lifting a bit before sinking down again. The movement made him moan, his cock dragging across your walls deliciously. It didn't take long for you to increase your movements, bouncing on his lap. His hands grasped your hips, helping you lift yourself up and down, up and down.

"Like that, darlin', just like that", he mumbled into your skin, occasionally biting at your sweaty flesh while the next high kept building inside of you.

"Joel, I'm gonna...," you warned him, riding him faster and faster.

His hands held you still then, pumping himself into you with sharp thrusts upwards, driving the air out of your lungs.

"Go on, cum on my cock, sweet thing, c'mon."

One look into his stormy eyes and you came shaking on his lap. He fucked you through it, praising you so sweetly, only his rough voice gave away how close he was himself.

"Don't," you babbled, letting him guide you on his cock, faster and faster, chasing his own high.

"What?" he breathlessly asked, gaze fixed on your face.

"Don't...pull out."

The moan it ripped from him, this one little sentence, made you unravel again in his arms, cock still pushing into you time and time again against that spot.

You felt him tense under you, moaning your name when he came, forehead resting against yours, giving you all he had to offer.

And then he fell silent, your unsteady breaths the only sound. He locked eyes with you again after a while and you could see a faint smile painting his lips before he shook his head.

"What?" you questioned, insecure all of a sudden without the adrenaline of arousel. You motioned to stand up on wobbly legs, but his hands pushed you down, keeping you impaled on his softening cock.

"Don't," he said, voice low and spent, "Stay."

His lips found yours in a soft kiss and your heart ached. You knew with the first sunlight this side of him will be gone again, his soft touches and heated words, his kisses. He will be the ever grumpy and cold-hearted Joel, so you decided to enjoy this as long as you could, letting him wrap the blanket next to him around your cooling bodies, embracing you with warmth.

[boredw69]

Only In His Office- Ch. 2 Negan X Reader

Y/n is 19 year old Senior in high school who is particularly quiet but that's only because she always takes the time to write in her notebook filled with.. thoughts about someone imparticular, but its not who you expect it to be…

◇There is a age gap in this book so if you are not ok with that or if it makes you uncomfortable then you do not have to read, it's your choice.◇

Warnings: Sexual themes, Cursing, Age Gap, Sick/Throw up, angst, mentions of drinking, Abuse, (bad writing.. :L )

Word count: 2231

"I have to go.." I whine looking down again.

"If you go now don't you think it would be a little suspicious?" He whispered resting a hand on my shoulder guiding me away from the door.

His touch was comforting.. I had never felt such a wonderful thing, our eyes locked just observing every feature on each others appearance, or maybe I was just so stuck in my own world that I only wanted to stare instead of speak a reply, but what more is there to say... it would be suspicious, he was right.

I bobbed my head slowly, "Ok..."

He moved his hand to his side with a clap. "Well." He spoke shuffling back around to his desk.

He picked up the book and sighed handing it back to me with a smile.

I took it gently bringing it to my chest holding it tightly.

As I looked up he had flopped down into his chair once again, his leg crossed over the other. He raised an eyebrow and gestured to the door.

"Thanks for the chat Miss. L/N. I'll be seeing you in gym tomorrow."

I turned on my heels and slowly left shutting the door behind me. I walked slowly out into the hall my body still stiff and shaky.

I immediately felt nauseous; Bolting toward the bathroom holding back a gag. Barging into the first bathroom stall I seen dropping to my knees and hurling into the nasty toilet.

-

Now sitting in the nurses office as the Nurse took my temperature I felt no better, still hot.. and bothered I suppose.

"Your temperature is pretty high, I'll go get a trash bag and you go to lay down, maybe you need some rest." She says.

I laid down on the plastic sheet covered bed. The uncomfortable paper over the pillow shuffled in my ear but eventually settled as I did.

I heard her laying down the bag next to me along with fanning a blanket over me and allowing it to fall gently.

My eyes stayed closed pretending to sleep as I listened to her every movement, from her sitting in her chair to her typing away on her computer.

I heard her gasp and shuffle around the small office. I listened to the pressing of a new set of keys. She was calling someone.

She laughed as if I wasn't trying to sleep just right next to her, "Hello, I'm sorry I almost forgot to call you up." She paused.

"She came into the office asking for me, she didnt look to good I think I'm going to call her dad to come and pick her up."

'Yea right' I thought to myself mentally rolling my eyes.

She put the phone down only to start calling my dad now.

It ringed and ringed, and-

"Hello. Is this y/n's father?"

I shifted around trying to listen; shocked that he had the time of day to answer.

"Yes, she isn't looking to well she might be sick would you be able to come and pick her up?"

'No... he never has time for anyone.'

"Oh, that sounds good thank you, see you in a bit" I could feel her smile radiating from here.

'huh.'

The phone gently hit the holder again and my ears followed her footsteps to her chair.

I relaxed my body falling into a deep thought.

-

I stretched out opening my mouth to yawn. I felt like I was in a different place; my eyes shot open and I looked around seeing I was in my room.

Was I that worn out that I didn't wake up until I was home...

I closed my eyes once again and shifted to my other side hoping to fall back asleep.

I laid there with my eyes closed for a good 5 minutes before I decided to get up noticing my backpack and notebook on the floor in front of my closet door.

I sighed as I looked at it. How was I supposed to face him tomorrow?

I sat up; my legs dangled from my bed as I stared right in front of me where a poster of a basketball player hung, I hadn't played basketball ball since 6th grade, my favorite coach was replaced by Negan and of course until today I couldn't even be an inch close to him, there is a lot of thoughts rushing through my head, I couldn't catch one if I tried..

"Y/n? Are you awake?" I heard a woman's voice from the kitchen.

Mom?

I stood up making my way down the hall and into the dining room where I peeped through the door to the kitchen.

"Mom!" I smile rushing to hug her.

"How have you been?" She asked while patting my back.

I pressed my lips together and just smiled ear to ear, "good."

She laughed letting go. "I missed you so much sweetheart." She screeched.

"I missed you too!"

I just couldn't stop smiling at her, I hadn't seen her in 6 months, and for me and her that hasn't been our longest apart but it always felt so long...

"Oh god, stop gabbing we have to go" My dad said stumbling into the kitchen with his keys.

I looked over confused.

"For one day Micheal could you be a real father figure!" My mother shouts.

"That's what I'm trying to do Claire! ...y/n go get in the truck."

I looked into my mother's eyes one more time before heading out the front door.

I don't know why my dad has to be like this but I guess I put up with it, either way, it's just nice to see my mom right now..

I flopped down in my dads truck with my hands in my lap.

Not even seconds later he shoved himself into the driver's side and threw a small orange piece of paper onto my lap before starting the car with a grunt.

I looked over at him as I picked up the loose paper off my lap, "What's this?" I question.

He didn't answer he just began to head down the road, so I took it upon myself to read it.

---Dear parent or Guardian your child is eligible for the girl's basketball team and we would love to see them tonight from 6:00 pm to 6:45 for a presentation and tryout sign-up. ---

My eyes widened, I could only hope Negan wasn't the one to be hosting the sign-ups. I licked my chapped lips trying to gain moisture back in my mouth and setting the papers into the dash of the truck.

"So," My father asked, except it sounded more of a 'so you're going to do it if you want to or not', but I still answered.

"I can't. Its not the same as kids basket ball. There's to much pressure."

"Y/n, Thats bullshit! You just gotta get out there and fuckin' do it." he spat gripping the steering wheel. He took a deep breath. "Look. I'm not the best dad ever, but when you were a kid; I could see that passion in your eyes when we would play."

I turned to look out the window watching the town houses pass by.

"You don't have a choice kid. I'm tired of seeing you rot away in your room. I want a daughter to actually be proud of for once."

My heart sank. "wow." I bit down on the inside of my cheek.

The rest of the car ride was silent.

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

I hesitated to step foot into the gym, but I couldn't go back. I bolted up to the top of the bleachers.

I could feel eyes on me. Most of these girls had been playing basket ball all their life, some of them I haven't seen since 3rd Grade.

I sat listening as he and the middle school coach talked about when tryouts were and how they knew we were good for the team. I could barely focus, his words of encouragement seemed to only echo to me. Our eyes caught one another an awkward amount of times before the speech was over.

Once it was I hurried to the door but I quickly realized sitting at the top of the bleachers was a bad idea, I got held up and before I got to the door I felt a firm grip on my arm that flipped me back facing the quart.

I took a deep breath and looked up seeing the face I was hoping to not see for the rest of the night.

I bit my lip, as much as I didn't want to see him, I couldn't help but mentally drool at the sight of his salt and pepper beard and strong jawline. His brown eyes staring down into mine as his figure towered over me. If I didn't stop thinking like this my knees were sure to go weak right here right now.

Before he opened his mouth to speak I interupted. "My dads waiting on me, I'm sorry."

I sprinted for the front desk and filled out the paper as fast as I could, I could still feel him watching me just before I rudely threw the paper at the lady sitting behind the flimsy white table.

I walked calmly out the door and took in a breath of fresh air just as I got into the truck. Finally...

------

Getting home after a encounter like I just had I would've went straight to my room and wrote in my book. But today felt different. I couldn't. I had no desire at all strangely enough.

I sighed audibly, falling stomach first into my bed my head stuffed into my pillow. The memories flooded back into my head..

"fuck.." I whisper yell into the pillow.

I rolled over onto my back and closed my eyes trying my best to remember what happened in his office. Even the slightest touch drove me crazy. I hadn't been that close to him in a setting such as that.. ever.

My hand was getting closer the the rim of my shorts, I rubbed my stomach thinking about what I was about to do...It would never compare to his touch in any way. The way his big hands rested on me, the way they felt, so rough.

My phone began to ring and I jumped up faster than I ever had before. I snatched my phone looking at the contact, it was just my best friend Julien, their in collage now and even though their older than me we still managed to become friends through work.

I picked up the phone, "Hey.." I say trying to mask the feeling I had.

"Hey!! Can you make it to the park tonight.. by.. lets see-" They thought, "10:00 or later"

I bite down on my lip thinking all the trouble I could get in if I did, but then again my Dad doesn't ever stop drinking so, "Yea, sure... Should I bring anything like snacks or a blanket ?"

"Yes, that would be great!" They shout into the phone before hanging up.

I sigh, "okay thennn"

I got up from my bed walking over to my closet and bringing out my backpack and throwing a small blanket folded into the bag before walking out to the front door. My dad was snoring over the basket ball game blaring on the tv. I didn't even bother saying anything.

As I walked I watched my feet the way they glided across the sidewalk, I looked back up, it was getting dark.. "hmm.." I pulled my phone from the back pocket and checked the time.

9:37 pm

I had some time to kill so I skipped over to the convenience store.

A tiny bell chimed as I walked in. I looked around walking into the snack isle. I grabbed some gummy worms and some Doritos then made my way to the drinks grabbing a few different drinks. I stumbled up to the cashier dropping all my things onto the counter for them to ring up.

"It's kinda late don't ya think lil girl" the man said.

I looked up from my bag, "heh- yea.." I shuffled to grab some money and shove the food and drinks into my bag with the blanket.

"Have a good night.. and be safe" the man says to me as I walk quickly out of the store.

'I've never seen him before.. that was really creepy.. I just wanna get to Julien...'

I walked the rest of the way to the park and sat on a bench before ringing them.

"Hey! Are you here yet.. I met this weird guy at the convenience store and I still got goosebumps.!" I say

"Yea! I'm here, come over beside the swings" they reply.

I make my way over to the swings and see them swaying back and forth.

I dropped my bag against the pole and sat in the swing next to them. "It's been awhile" I chuckle.

They look over smiling, "yea.."

The night went on and we ended up watching a movie behind the slides on his laptop, needless to say it made me forget about everything that has been going on lately, and just being with my best friend made me feel 100x better than laying in bed while my dad drunkly yells at the TV.

[thewritersaddictions]

Day Twenty-Two: Negan Smith + The Nightmare Before Christmas

It's his favorite movie, so there's no shaking yourself out of this tonight. The door to his room had been shut and locked the minute you had made your way into his room. You were his favorite, fuck you're the only one that he gets down to on a fundamental level.

The only one that he trusted to see a more sensitive, everyday side of him. You had gotten an invite to watch a few movies with me just a few days ago, and it was not really an invite; it was more like, 'You're to come to my room at nine.' A demand by all means, but how he looked at you and his breath fanned over your neck and cheek sent an excellent round of shivers down your spine.

On the other hand, you weren't a massive fan of the idea of holidays any more; there weren't any good commercials anymore. No ideas of getting your friends and family gifts because, one, all the stores were destroyed and, second, because most of your family was gone, dead, and turned into zombies.

Regardless of your feelings towards Christmas, you would get into enough of the spirit to enjoy some time with Negan. What you had expected to happen when locked in Negan's room was not what happened. You were instead greeted by a half-dressed Negan wearing a cooing apron that said "Kiss the chef," the kitchen a mess behind him. The sound of carols playingfrom the radio in his room.

The only thing he was missing was a few decorations. If you stayed in this room forever, you would probably think it was any average person's apartment during the holidays, but it wasn't and never would be. "Hey there, darlin'. Are you excited?" Negan asked you, and a part of you wanted to say, 'It's not like I have much of a choice as to whether I want to be here or not,' but you couldn't bare to say those words to him, not when he turned around to look at you with flour across his forehead, and nose. You chuckled at the childish display in front of you.

"Yeah, I'm excited, but you need help with whatever you're making over there." You say, slipping off your boots and into the comfort of the Christmas feeling surrounding you now. He scoffs but looks down at the messy counter and lets you scoot over next to him. The dough isn't working out. "There's too much flour on the counter; it's making your dough dry." You mutter to him as you bump his hip to make room for yourself. You push some of the flour off the countertop and into the sink, then add a little water to the dough to give it a more sticky texture.

"Well, aren't you just miss baker," Negan says, teasing you relentlessly was how the two of you managed to get along. You're both headstrong, but that's what Negan liked so much about you. He hadn't bothered for another wife who was pretty and dim-witted. He wanted more, someone who challenged him to be and do better.

"Did you go to culinary school before the world went to shit?" He asks, not afraid to make conversation about the past. You hum and nod as you knead the dough back to life. "So you wanted to be a chef or somethin'?" He asks you; you shrug your shoulder, "Just because I went didn't mean what I wanted to do, Negan, you should know that. Hell, you were a gym teacher. I know that you had other dreams for your life." You say maybe a bit harsher than you, but it's the truth and the reality. You hadn't really wanted to go to culinary school, but it was what it was then. Your dreams are crushed by being constantly denied into your choice of university.

"Well, do you have a point, doll?" He says, washing his hands off the excess flour; he watches your hands as you kneed and then roll out the dough. "There you go, Negan." You huff as you wipe your hands together. "You know how to do the rest, right?" You tease him, and he rolls his eyes and smacks your ass to get you out of the titled kitchen and out onto the couch.

The oven keeps the small room heated to just the right temperature. The wafting smell of cookies has you eyeing the oven door for the rest of the night until Negan shuffles out of the kitchen with a small platter of warm cookies. "What are you planning on watching?" You ask him, eyeing the platter as he sits it on the small coffee table. "I was thinking about a few movies, actually."

He says as he shoves a few cookies into his mouth. You shake your head as he fans his mouth and nearly spits the cookies. "A little hot?" You tease, "Fuckin' right there, hot." Negan answers his voice, which is thicker than before, but he doesn't say much as he shuffles towards a shelf. "How about the nightmare before Christmas?" He asks with joy written all over his older face.

Crow feet are showing around his eye, but it's something you can't help but adore. "Staring isn't very nice, dearie." You roll your eyes and flip him off, "And that's not very nice either, pretty girl." Your cheeks burn as you watch him take the DVD out of the case and slip into the machine. It takes a few minutes, but then the title screen shows up on the screen.

Negan is right back to you, his arm around your shoulder, scooting you closer until your thighs are touching and his body heat radiates off him. He smells good, an aftershave that you always get a scent of when you're out in the shared space. It makes your heart race faster, and you rest your head on his shoulder. He presses play and lets the intro song play before he's talking over the dialogue of the movie.

"Did you know that Jack might be the kid from Frankieween?" Negan tells you excitedly as his eyes never move from the TV screen. "What are you talking about?" You ask, genuinely confused at the words falling from his very kissable lips. "I'm talking about the fact that all of the time buttons are just one storyline about Jack at different times in his life." Negan sounds crazy. "Did you watch kids' movies on your off time?" Teasing him further. "Shut up! I had a lot of free time on my hands." He defends himself. "How about you shut up and watch the damn movie you put on." You counter, the look you get out of the corner of his eye, is all you need to know that you're working on thin ice.

So you lean forward and place a small kiss on his cheek and then the side of his lips, and before you know it, you're trapped between the couch and him with a forgotten kids movie playing on the tv.

Completed on: 11/28/23

Posted on: 12/22/23

The Wanderers Tags- @neganswoman

The Walking Dead Master List // The Wanderers Master List // Christmas Stories Master List

[notalkingbusiness]

Have you considered that the reason LC & DG are equally billed is because they start from stronger negotiating positions? Both have already left; LC because she wasn’t paid enough & DG because she could & did pursue other things. The latter leaving after Andrew Lincoln is also reported to be one of the main catalysts of the original show being wrapped up & broken down into spin offs.

Melissa, on the other hand, feels like someone who doesn’t care too much about billing. She wasn’t even billed until season 4 in the original show. Add to that the fact the show is named after Daryl, and the Carol is a subtitle, I’m not sure it makes sense for equal billing. There’s maybe something to be said about Norman, Zabel & Nicotero agreeing to go ahead without her while Andrew Lincoln & Scott Gimple waited until DG was free. Yes, Carol is important. Yes, Melissa is a great actor but the show’s had a strong first season before/without her. The other spin offs both start with all their leads in place.

Maybe equal billing will come for Caryl in s3 when they hit their stride/they bring in the ratings.

No, I don't think that's the case at all, anon.

I can't speak for the individual negotiating positions of all the leading ladies, but I'd be curious to know how Lauren Cohan was in a stronger negotiating position after she walked away from TWD? She returned to TWD after Whiskey Cavalier was not renewed for a second season. To me, that looks more like pragmatism than a straightforward triumphant return.

I'm not sure where you're getting your information from about Danai Gurira either? Fans had to wait years for TOWL because Gimple couldn't get his Rick movies off the ground. The films were announced in 2018 and never materialized. That's the reason for the delay. Gimple didn't do anything out of the goodness of his heart or because he's #Best Ally #All About "Strong Female Characters" #Not Like Other Showrunners.

The original Caryl spinoff was supposed to run alongside the main show, presumably with Maggie and Negan leading the TWD in Caryl's absence. As mentioned in the article below, "talk of the offshoot actually pre-dated news of the mothership winding down. 'There's been talk for a long time about a Darryl [smh, Dalton] /Carol spin-off,' says Kang. 'And so that was something that we were working on well in advance of the news about the ending of the series.'"

Billing matters. It matters to everyone involved in a production because it's one of those things which impacts the overall hierarchy. Billing is directly linked to pay, professional recognition, and seniority. TBOC's unequal billing and unequal title set the stage for an unequal show. Not only in terms of uneven storytelling, but in terms of whose EP notes are taken with more consideration etc.

Melissa should've been properly billed before Season 4, but we can't do anything about a billing from over 10 years ago. Personally, I think comparing TBOC's billing to the billings in 2013-14 is redundant because we're not comparing like with like. The most pertinent and relevant points of comparison are TBOC's sister shows - TOWL and DC. These shows are all being made by the same company concurrently and they all fall under the same brand. Both of the leading ladies are equally billed in TOWL and DC and rightly so! Plus, neither of them were reduced to a subtitle. The discrepancies with TBOC trouble me. Why have AMC opted for a clunky and uneven title? Why have they broken protocol when it comes to billing their female lead? Why are they so bad at this?

There's a reason why the other spinoffs started with their female leads in place - none of the other shows were needlessly yeeted across the Atlantic at the last minute. Honestly, I'm not sure if any of the shows are doing well. Not really. It's not a good sign when the uninitiated are surprised that TWD is still going. It's not a good sign when everyone laughs at the idea of Daryl randomly ending up in France. DD had the added problem of splitting a previously loyal demographic and creating a lot of negative energy when some of the dudes attempted to justify extremely questionable decisions.

Can they turn things around? I hope so. But I can't put my hope and trust in Zabel, Nicotero, and Gimple. These men have proved time and time again that they just don't get it. I'll believe that brighter days are ahead when Melissa is equally billed. Melissa is Norman's equal in every way and she should be equally billed when the show airs in September. No ifs, no buts.

I'll believe that brighter days are ahead when TBOC can make me feel something other than disappointment.

Anyway, as you can probably tell, I am very frustrated with TBOC atm 🫠 To be clear, all of that frustration is directed at TPTB rather than you, anon. We all deserve so much better than this.

[richonnesbitch]

Hi this isn’t really an ask about Richonne but related to TWD. So I had stopped watching after season 7 (except to catch up on Rick and Michonne’s scenes) because of Glenn and having jumped back into TWD universe because of TWOL, it’s actually so bizarre to me that Negan is still alive…but not just alive, apparently has somewhat of a redemption arc (??) and Maggie even interacts with him (???). I understand as someone who has not kept up with the show that I’m just not ‘getting it’ but it seems as though it almost reaches into the realm of impossibility that someone would not kill the man who brutally murdered the love of their life and father of their child….even with the sake of their community. Do you know if the general fandom actually like how that storyline progressed? I can’t help but think if it had been Rick or Michonne they would not have been able to let that go ever and would have killed Negan eventually.

No, you absolutely ABSOLUTELY get it perfectly!!! They don't kill Negan and the show really declines in quality because of it. For one thing, the only reason Rick doesn't kill Negan (he actually slits his throat but saves him last minute) is because of a very rushed and forced scene of his dying son Carl telling him not to lol. Like that's the only reason Rick doesn't go through with it. And Michonne backs him up, of course, because she wants to honor Carl and also support Rick. And Maggie and Daryl are PISSED because of this. Richonne decide to stick Negan in a cell the rest of his life and for about two years it stays that way until Maggie and Daryl start plotting to kill him. Are they wrong about wanting him dead? Of course not. But the way they go about doing it? It's so wrong. Long story short, they come up with a plan to distract Rick (which accidentally leads to his "death" and capture) while Maggie basically guilt trips Michonne into handing over the key. So Maggie goes in and you know what she DOESN'T do? Kill him. All that plotting just to not even kill him. Because I guess she wants him to suffer the rest of his life.

Anyway I kinda stopped watching TWD at this point so I'm not really sure what happens over the years but somehow after richonne is gone Negan is free. Everyone literally hates him so bad but just refuses to kill him? Like. Therefore no reason they aren't able to kill him now. Richonne is gone, no one is guarding him. Anybody could take him out at any time. And they just don't? Like hey wanted to make him the biggest baddest villain but at the same time a redeemable and relatable guy (two things which really can't coexist).

And then Maggie and Negan get a spinoff because Maggie needs Negan (of all the people in the world that she knows) to help save her kidnapped son. She hates him to death but just won't kill him. There's no reason not to kill him. But she just won't. And she won't forgive him either. She's in this purgatory where she can never get over Glenn's death because of it. I'm sorry to say but they did Maggie so dirty.

So to answer your question I think a large majority of fans DID NOT like Negan being kept alive. It ruined the show and characters in a lot of ways. And if Negan had killed Michonne, Andrew Lincoln himself said that Negan would have been dead. And Michonne DEFINITELY would have killed Negan if he had killed Rick. Those two definitely would not have let it go. Which I guess Maggie didn't really let it go either, but they still won't let her do it? Like to me it's just out of character for her not to. But the writers for some reason love him too much for that to happen. It's just so weird to me???

Anyway, I'm sorry this was long. I hope I answered your question!

[redqueenphoenix]

State Championship (TWD Fan Fic Part 3)

State Championship Part 3

(A TWD Fan Fiction)

I do not own any of the rights to The Walking Dead, nor do I own any of the characters mentioned from here on in, other than Victoria Hawkins. Some situations have been changed and some people may have been switched in this alternate universe. 

All characters in this fan fiction are over the age of 21 years old.

Coach Negan Smith X Female OC

Word Count: 1532

Part 3

  ~*~

Victoria leaned back in the seat as the bus began to move, sliding her headphone back on as she closed her eyes. The adrenaline still pumped in her veins as they pulled out of the school parking lot and onto the main road. She pulled out her cell phone and checked the time as they turned onto a busy street. 

Feeling the seat move as Negan sat down next to her. His eyes went to her phone in her hands. “Got a hot date?”

She shook her head, “no, I was just checking the time.” 

“Shame.” He reached over and snatched her cell phone up, entering in his contact information. Handing it back to her with a wink as he got up and motioned for her to head to the back and party it up with her team. 

Victoria got up and felt his eyes on her as she made her way to the back carefully. Making her way back to the seat she had before with a smile as the ladies all chattered. 

“So, have you thought about it?” Samantha asked from across the seat. “Are you going or are you gonna be a wet blanket like the back of the bus?”

Rolling her eyes she nodded, “fine, but I have nothing to wear at all for that.”

“We got this.” Barbie smiled as she pulled her phone out of her pocket and google searched places to shop. 

“So, is it just us or…” She turned in her seat to look at Aubrie, “are you coming?”

Aubrie gave a small sigh in defeat, “well, someone has to make sure you all don’t do anything you would regret.”

Victoria beamed as she turned back in her seat, she was glad that her best friends were all in this.

“Did he mention where we are staying?” Barbie looked up from her phone, “it would be a lot easier to find a place to shop if we knew that.”

Victoria shook her head, “he really hasn’t said too much since…”

All three girls looked at her with an intrigued expression until Samantha spoke, “since what?”

Sighing she rolled her eyes, “since he kissed me on the bus earlier.”

“What!” Barbie exclaimed as she almost dropped her phone. “He did what?”

Victoria’s eyes shot up to the front of the bus, seeing that he was sitting in his seat, “yeah. It was totally unexpected.”

“Ohh, girl!” The three all said at once. 

“Stop it.” She waved her hand at her friends. 

“Well, what was it like?” Aubrie asked as she peeked around the seat. 

A sweet smile crossed her lips as she remembered it, “fireworks.”

“Alright, ladies, once we get the W Downtown, stick together and wait til I get the keys.” Negan stood up and turned in his seat to face the women. “Don’t be running off or anything like that.”

“What the hell is the W Downtown?” Aubrie asked as she looked over to Barbie, who was already typing away in her Google search bar.

Barbie’s eyes went wide as the search finished, “holy shit! No way!”

“What?” Victoria asked as she looked over at her friend’s phone. 

“All I can say is just wait and see.” Barbie laughed as they turned on the street that was home to their hotel.

Even in the daylight the neon lights of the W Downtown shone brightly as they pulled up. They stopped at the entrance via the circle drive and the ladies all stared in awe. The whole front of the building where the entrance is was a huge pane of glass with a double door embellished with a large W.

After gathering their bags the girls followed Coach Negan off the bus and into the hotel. Negan stayed behind to hold open the door for the team as they filed into the hallway that led to the lobby. The hallway almost felt like an entrance to a nightclub. Purple lights accented the walls as they walked to a wooden wall with the W on it. 

“To the right ladies.” Negan moved to the front of the group as they muttered and mumbled in amazement. Leading them to the lobby and heading to the front desk. 

The man at the desk smiled as Negan approached, “Welcome to the W. How may I help you today?”

“Reservations for tonight under Negan Smith.”

“Two rooms, right sir?” He waited for him to nod. “One is the E-WOW suite for six, for them right sir?” He pointed back to the girls. “And the other is the presidential private suite. For you sir?”

“Yes.” Negan smiled as he handed him a black credit card with the college's emblem on it.

“Very well sir. I noticed that it was requested that both rooms were on the same floor. Which is not a problem. You have access to the roof pools, the entertainment room, and the dining hall, if you find that the room service is not to your liking.” He turned as he started making hotel room card keys. After a few moments he handed him six to the E-WOW room and one to the private room. “You will want to take the hallway down to the elevator, take it to the 5th floor and then your rooms are down hallway C. Enjoy your stay.”

Negan nodded and handed out the keys, “don’t lose them, I won’t be paying for anymore. If you lose your key, you sleep on the bus.” He motioned for the team to follow him to the elevator.

“This is nice as hell!” Samantha said as she looked around the place. 

“I can’t believe the school was okay with this.” Aubrie said in disbelief, “this must have cost a ton of money.”

Victoria looked around at the expensive decor as they reached the elevator. “Is that glass?” Her eyes went wide looking at the glass cylinder in front of the group.

“Yep.” Barbie laughed as she nudged her friend. “Don’t look down.”

The doors opened and they all slipped inside, Victoria making her way to the back wall so she didn’t have to look down. She had always been queasy about heights, but a glass elevator. This was almost too much as she tried to calm her anxiety. 

“Hey, we’re almost there.” Aubrie placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s alright, just breathe.” A few seconds later the elevator stopped and opened in front of Aubrie and Victoria. “See, you’re fine.” She kept her hand on her friend's back as she led Victoria out of the elevator. 

Victoria looked up and saw hallway C, “down this way right?” She looked down at the key card in her hand.

“Yeah.” He caught up to her with a slightly concerned look, “you alright?”

“Yeah, I just have a fear of heights. That elevator was a torture device for me.” Her eyes went over to Negan as he motioned to the room the ladies were staying in. 

“Here’s your stop ladies. My room is just down the hall. Three doors down. Have a good night.” He smirked at Victoria as he headed down the hallway.

Barbie pushed her keycard into the door and pushed it open. “Oh my god!” 

Quickly the rest of the girls stumbled into the room. The view was amazing. The room was spacious with couches and chairs. There were three bedrooms and enough room for each of the ladies to make themselves comfortable for the night.

Victoria stepped towards one of the couches and dropped her bag. Her mind reeled at how expensive this room looked. It was almost bigger than her apartment back home.

Quickly, Samantha made her way over with Barbie, “We hit the jackpot. There is a designer dress place just right up the street. If we hurry, we can get some dresses and be back before the nightclubs open.”

Victoria looked down at her phone, it was going on five p.m. “Fine,” she smiled as she headed for the door. “You better know where the hell we are going.” She laughed at Barbie as they left their room.

“Google maps never lie!” Barbie laughed as she headed back for the elevator.

“You get us lost due to your obsession with technology and I will sell you to the first circus I see!” Aubrie snapped as she hurried to catch up.

“Thank god there isn’t one around, huh?” Samantha laughed as she jammed the button to the elevator.

Victoria laughed as she stepped back onto the mobile death trap. She didn’t like this thing at all, but she had agreed with the girls to go to the nightclub tonight. This wasn’t going to be the last she saw of that horrid elevator.

~*~ Part 4

[desertfangs]

people are so caught up with like holding book fans "accountable" and running to us about the show... when we sure as hell don't write it and some blame the expectations of oh they will adapt x or y on us like... I've read the books and I can tell someone what happens in them but I'm not the writer's room or an actor on the show, they have proven time and time again that they have a creative vision that can be quite derivative of the material and that's... something you can agree or disagree with! But it sure isn't like hello fan of the books why did you tell me they will be like that and they're not in the show... do I look like I write the show?

Anywho I really like your blog and it's a comfort space for vc things hope these feelings aren't too negative 💗

I think it's probably my fault, as in my post I said it didn't seem Devil's Minion is happening, and I wasn't intending to like... insist that was true. As I said, I haven't seen season 2, so I honestly don't know! I have heard a lot of people talk about it and a lot of people I know seem disappointed and convinced that is the case.

I got really into The Walking Dead this year, and as I watched through it and its many (many) spinoffs one thing I kept coming across in posts or podcasts was this thing where comic readers would be excited for an arc or a plot and then.... stuff happened differently. Some of them preferred the show, some were disappointed, but another thing happened, too: non-comic readers would hear about a plot and then expect things because they'd been told Oh Negan is super fun! You'll love him. And then seasons 7-8 dragged on forever and Negan was not fun(*), or whatever it was!

So it's interesting to me now to see the IwtV Show fandom kind of experiencing the same thing where some people are aware of what happens in the books, or look to book readers to see what might come next, or have seen people talk about what an Epic Ship Devil's Minion is, and then... the show veers left instead.

They're just different things. AMC's IwtV is inspired by the VC books and is pulling things from them, but they aren't really true to the books. So book readers can predict some stuff but who knows when the writers will throw a curve ball. There are some plots and relationships the show doesn't seem that interested in tackling. I don't know if Armand/Daniel is among them, but I do know the choice to make Daniel older and have this be a second interview already started them at a place that fundamentally changed their story. Just like The Walking Dead killing Sophia and letting Carol live to become a bad ass.

So you're right that as book fans, we can only speak to what we know about what happens in the books. We have no idea when the show will do something totally different! Because they are not the same. They weren't the same from the jump. In the book, Daniel is not stoned during the interview. And there's only one. Louis finishes his story. So from the beginning, the show took a different tack, and that's fine! It just means we have no clue what the show will do with, say, Marius, or Akasha, or Gabrielle, because we only know what the books do.

Anyhow, sorry, this rambly and I'm pretty braindead from work so I don't even know if this makes sense. If you like the idea of Armand/Daniel and haven't read Devil's Minion, do yourself a favor! That's all I was saying.

Thank you for the ask and I'm glad you enjoy my blog! 💖 *Please do not send me asks about how fun Negan actually is, he did get kind of fun later, but I realize this too is subjective.

[leojurand]

so i'm watching the walking dead (kinda for the first time, i watched the first 3, 3 and a half seasons back in the day, now i'm on s10) and it's taking over my life and the issue with that is that i actively look for opinions, character rankings, analysis etc.

and it's an issue because i've discovered that the fandom really doesn't like maggie. and the reasons why make no sense to me like, at all, and they make me feel crazy

that means ofc that i need to rant about it

first: s1-s6 maggie. i think most people say they like maggie just fine in these seasons, or they just don't care about her that much. everyone complains about her forgetting about beth in 4b-5a but i mean. the general consensus is that that's shitty writing and not maggie being an awful sister (tho i have seen that opinion as well lol).

but the most common complaint i've seen about her character in this era is: maggie and glenn's characters are all about their romance (specifically from s2 to s4 i think). and i agree! i've always liked maggie but this is why i wasn't super invested in her character early on. the problem is when people say "maggie drags glenn down". but not the other way around? it's like they only see her as glenn's love interest, while glenn is a character on his own and he can't have more interesting storylines because he's stuck in this romance (a romance most fans love btw that's not the problem). i guess this is because glenn was introduced first and existed in the story before maggie but like. that was like 6 eps and it's not like he was getting a crazy character arc.

so yeah, it does feel like misogyny when someone blames maggie for this when it's a problem for both characters.

now, post s6 is where most of the maggie hate comes from, and they have plenty of reasons to dislike her, or her arc (and i disagree with most of them):

- "maggie isn't/doesn't deserve to be a leader, maggie's leader arc feels forced": okay this one is genuinely baffling to me because i love this arc. it starts in s7 (arguably 5b, i'd say maggie becoming deanna's counselor is the actual beginning), and that's important because s7-8 are generally agreed upon to be not well-written. in fact, most of my faves from prior seasons get the short stick during this era imo: rick, carol, daryl. that's why maggie was such a highlight to me; i was so invested in her rise to leadership in hilltop. it made complete sense to me because she started getting a more "political" role in 5b, and she was the one who made the deal with gregory in s6, and saw his incompetence first hand. it was not only compelling, but very natural for her character. it also makes sense with the trajectory the rest of the group was taking: once they get to alexandria, several of them start to get placed, or put themselves in, positions of power. it happens with rick, glenn, and abraham. but maggie is the one that feels forced and undeserving... why?

- "maggie is nothing but a widow after 7x01/maggie's character becomes all about negan": obviously i don't see the logic in this statement because she becomes the leader of a community in this era? she cares about people, she makes hilltop a better place, she calls out gregory's bullshit and gives him so many opportunities he doesn't even deserve. she does what needs to be done, but still listens to the people she loves. not once, in all of s7, does maggie mention negan or her need to take revenge. she bonds with sasha over their shared grief (something they'd already done in 5b, the arc that keeps on giving, but their dynamic started in 4b!), and sasha and enid take care of her; she befriends jesus, and he becomes instantly loyal to her because he sees all her qualities; he knows what an incompetent leader is like, and knows that maggie is perfect for the position. maggie never stops mourning, but all of these relationships aren't about glenn or negan. but no one cares about them enough to remember or appreciate them i guess ://

- "maggie betrayed rick": this is actually so stupid and definitely one of those instances when people hate on character for disagreeing with/going against their favourite character. rick was wrong when he spared negan. he was wrong for deciding that on his own, for not consulting anyone, for disregarding the feelings of maggie and daryl and everyone else negan had hurt. and rick did for selfish reasons! he wanted to honour carl, and so he betrayed his friends and he acted like that was the only choice. like what he wanted was what mattered. maggie (and daryl) had every right to go behind his back and try to kill negan. rick didn't respect her wishes, didn't keep his word after he said he wouldn't stop until negan was dead, so why should she obey him? it's crazy that there are people who feel that way. if carl had died during the line up, maggie would never have stopped him from taking revenge, even if for some reason glenn believed that to be right. it was an awful thing to do to her, right when she thought she could finally end it and find some peace of mind. team maggie and daryl for life dpmo!!!

related to that, maggie was also right about not wanting to follow the rules rick and michonne were planning to establish, and doing what she felt was best for her people. she was right when she didn't want to give food to the saviors, she was right when she suspected them, she was right when she let the oceanside women execute arat. no one has ever been more right in the history of television.

and this is kinda related too, but i've seen michonne fans boast about michonne always being calm and collected and always making the right decisions (which is not true, thankfully michonne is more complex than that). i bring it up because unfortunately i often see twd fans use their love for a female character to insult the other women in the show. which is really tragic, but in this case i also can't see why that's something to boast about. i like that maggie is angry and resentful, i like that she makes mistakes and irrational choices because of that anger and grief. i like that she doesn't let go of all those messy feelings in order to be calm and therefore more palatable. yes, fans call her whiny and say she should just move on, get over it (fucked up if you see what she went through, but whatever). but i don't want that. female characters are always expected to get over things quickly, to deal with their problems quietly, because if they don't they're whiny and annoying and insufferable. if they make bad decisions they're useless, they're getting people killed. male characters are allowed to have those ugly feelings, to snap, to be cruel and violent because they're hurting. that makes them more compelling, more layered. but not female characters, not maggie. sure, fans also blame daryl for his impulsive behaviour, but that doesn't stop him from being the most popular character. maggie has many moments when she's super cool (when she makes the deal with hilltop, when she hangs gregory) but those are never hyped like every single small moment when a man is a badass. or when they do the bare minimum tbh, people don't need much to stan a male character.

tl;dr: i absolutely adore maggie, and the fact that she has the best arc during the worst part of the show made me so invested in her story. all the hate she gets, and the reasons people give to justify hating her, are completely nonsensical to me. "we didn't watch the same show" levels of nonsense. i sincerely hope she's as unbearable as everyone says she is when she comes back. i hope she's nasty and i will love her even more for it!

[queerplatonic-sculder]

Blood Moon Waltz

Neggie/Negan Smith x Maggie Greene || Rated: G || Words: 1.3k

Summary: They are destined to be together as the Blood Moon says.

A/N: Hey, it's been a while haha. I've been suffering from bad writer's block which is why I haven't written in a while. But I really wanted to write something for Halloween so I wrote this real quick.

This is inspired by/very loosely based off an episode of a cartoon that I love called Star vs. the Forces of Evil; episode 15 of season 1 to be exact.

Here's some music to go with this fic if you're interested: https://youtu.be/gCFCDFq3Wss?si=v-bhxdYO_e9Z6IT-

Anyways, enjoy! :]

AO3 || FF.net || ↓

......

The crisp air blew the autumn leaves amongst the trees of the forest. Maggie sat and watched as the colorful display wisped around her and some up into the night sky. It was chilly but it wasn't bothersome to her as her thick fur provided her with enough warmth. It was one of the little things that made her thankful to be a werewolf rather than a creature with no fur. Wrapping her tail around herself and snuggling closer to the tree she was up against, she continued watching the leaves when her ears perked up as she heard the sound of footsteps approaching.

"Maggie, what are you doing over here alone?" Carol, one of the older wolves and a good friend of Maggie, said as she came around the tree to show herself.

"Just wanted some alone time," Maggie told her honestly.

"Come back to the festival, dear. You know how important tonight is."

Maggie sighed. "You know that's never been my thing, Carol."

"I know. But the Pairing is happening soon. You can't miss that… Who knows, you could be chosen this time."

Maggie looked away from her and up to the full moon which was bright red. The Blood Moon as her kind referred to it. The Blood Moon is a significant thing in werewolf culture. It appears every year on Halloween and when it does, werewolves from all packs gather at night to celebrate and, when it's at its peak, an event known as the Pairing happens. The Pairing is when the Blood Moon focuses its light on two wolves, sometimes more, exposing their love for each other and signifying that they are destined to be together, bonding their souls together for eternity as moonmates.

Maggie was never a fan of the huge celebration but even she knew Carol was right in that she should be there for the Pairing. At one time she thought that Glenn, another wolf from her pack and good friend, would be her moonmate but the moon has never chosen them even though they like each other and she wonders if someone else is destined to be her moonmate. There was someone else she was interested in as well but she knew he didn't love her back and the Blood Moon would never pair them.

Shaking the thoughts from her head, she looked back to Carol. "Okay, you're right. I'll come back."

Carol smiled at her. "Good."

Maggie stood up and followed Carol back to the clearing where the celebration was being held. The clearing was lit with torches and decorated with various flowers and plants to show respect to the moon. Wolves from packs everywhere were here. Many were socializing but some were also keeping to themselves, whether because they were shy or were also not fans of big parties. There was a feast of food that was prepared by all the packs, each one providing their share of whatever they had to offer. There was also water and other drinks, a popular one being apple cider.

Maggie went around and talked with some of the other wolves. After talking a bit, she stood off to the side and watched everyone. Looking over the crowd, she saw her family, friends, wolves from other packs that she recognized, and… Negan. That damn wolf. Negan was from another pack that her pack was on good terms with but that didn't stop him from being a pain in the ass sometimes. Him and Maggie had a love-hate relationship. They found each other aggravating but they were also very intrigued with each other in a way. Neither one can even remember how this weird rivalry-friendship started but neither would give it up.

Negan looked over and spotted Maggie as well. Usually Maggie was eager to banter with him but she wanted to be alone right now. She tried looking around and pretending not to see him but it was too late, he was already coming over. When he reached her, he grinned at her.

"Good evening, m'lady. My, don't you look lovely," Negan said half-teasingly and half-seriously.

Maggie rolled her eyes. "Uh huh. Hello Negan."

"You having a good time?" Negan asked her.

"Hmm… I was until you showed up," Maggie teased back.

Negan chuckled. "Funny. You want some cider? I can get us some."

Maggie thought for a moment and then nodded. "Yeah, that would be nice… Thank you."

Negan smiled. "Alright, be right back."

Negan left to get them some cider and then brought it back. He handed Maggie her cup and Maggie nodded in thanks. They then spent time talking while drinking their cider. Even though neither would admit it, they both enjoyed each other's company a lot… And even felt something deeper for each other.

Soon, their attention was directed to the sound of a wolf speaking up to the crowd. "Good evening fellow wolves," the voice, who Maggie recognized as Rick, her pack's leader, said. "It's time for the Pairing. The Blood Moon is about to choose moonmates. Let's all direct our attention to her as she decides," he told everyone.

Everyone watched as the Blood Moon's red shine began glowing brighter and forming a spotlight on the ground. Maggie wondered who the lucky wolves would be as the light moved to find its chosen ones. Slowly the light moved closer and closer to Maggie and Negan until they were engulfed in it. Both Negan and Maggie's eyes widened in shock at the revelation, and some other wolves must've been surprised too as they heard a few gasps from the crowd.

"Oh my… I didn't realize just how in love with me you are, Maggie," Negan spoke up teasingly.

Maggie blushed and looked away from him. She hated admitting it but he was right.

"Hehe… Well, I feel the same about you, darling," he told her honestly. He held out his paw in invitation for her to take hold of it. "May I have this dance?" he asked her. It is tradition that moonmates share a waltz after being chosen.

Maggie reached her paw out and took his in hers. "Yes," she answered and smiled at him.

They walked out to the middle of the clearing, the Blood Moon's light following them, and all the other wolves around them moved to make room and formed a circle around them to watch. Negan and Maggie took hold of each other and began to dance as the wolves in charge of the music began to play the traditional Blood Moon Waltz music. The beautiful, somewhat haunting tune filled the air as Negan and Maggie danced. The glow of red from the Blood Moon shined down on them and the autumn leaves on the ground began to float over and swirled around them as if on their volition.

As the music and their dance came to an end, the Blood Moon's glow bursted out in a wave of light across the forest, sending a sort of pleasurable shockwave through both Negan and Maggie. Then the light disappeared and the leaves fell back down to the ground. That must've been the soul bond, they both thought.

"Heh… I guess we're moonmates now," Negan said after a moment of silence.

"That we are," Maggie responded. "I never thought I'd admit this but… I was always secretly hoping we would be."

Negan smiled. "Me too, darling. For a long time now. I love you."

Maggie smiled back. "I love you too."

Negan and Maggie touched noses and then nuzzled their faces together as they went in for a hug as the other wolves watched and some of them let out "awwws." Negan didn't mind being the center of attention, meanwhile Maggie was usually uncomfortable with it but at this moment, she didn't care. They were both too happy and lost in each other to care about anyone else. 

They were moonmates now and would be forever. They never thought they would be because they didn't think the other would love them back but the Blood Moon knows all the desires of every wolf and guided them together as they should be. And they couldn't be happier.

......

A/N: Sorry if any of this doesn't make sense, I wrote this very rushed all in one day today. Thank you for reading! <3

[twdmusicboxmystery]

Why I am Predicting a Beth Appearance by the End Episode 3:

@bookqueenrules:

OFC, this is TOTAL speculation based on TWDU and non-TWDU clues.  I am NOT saying that Daryl will necessarily see/know that she is alive by the end of ep. 3(or in a post credits scene), but I believe it will be revealed to the audience by then that she, or someone who looks like her, is alive. 

I’ve seen symbolic clues in “Diverged” in Season 10 and Dead City. 

DD was in the writing/development stage FAR longer than Dead City. So, Dead City writers already had access to the outlines for DD before production began. So, when Maggie showed a family picture with a person we can infer to be Beth having eyes gouged out in the shape of the surprised emoji, that was a major red flag for me.  That happened in episode THREE of Dead City.

 In Diverged, a wholly symbolic episode, Daryl takes off on his own and his motorcycle breaks down. It is in the THIRD place he looks, that he finds the knife, symbolically representing a love interest. he needs to fix his bike and continue his journey. 

Some of my belief is based on storyline conjecture. So, back to Dead City.  It was considered a success by most, but why did it do well?

Some wanted to see NYC zombies. Some wanted to see Maggie and Hershel. I would argue MOST wanted to see the development of the Negan/Maggie dynamic. How many would have watched just Maggie trying to get Herschel back?  Some, but it would not have had the same viewership, and the TWD fans actually care about Hershel as Maggie and Glenn’s son. 

So, why will people watch DD?

Some are looking forward to variant zombies, some want to see Daryl, but for how long will the average American TWD viewer tune in to see Daryl hanging out with new French characters with accents and subtitles to boot?  

Personally, I would enjoy it regardless, but I know many people that hate subtitles and won’t be particularly interested in how things went in France.  Sure, the scenery is beautiful, but it won’t hold the interest past a couple of episodes. The “cure” premise was JUST seen in The Last of Us.   TPTB should also have learned that the decline of the flagship was largely due to killing off “family” characters we cared about and bringing on lots of new characters that never became as important to the audience as the original characters of the first few seasons. Hopefully, TPTB learned this lesson. 

While I DO expect to see a Carol flashback in season 1, the show will need to bring something to the French story that will excite and surprise viewers. If MMB would have decided to be in season 1, it may have been a different story. The Daryl/Carol dynamic would have been there, and I would be predicting your typical “cliffhanger” style reveal towards the end of the first season.

That is why I think there will need to be SOME reconnection between Beth/Daryl in season 1 for the audience to care enough to tune in to Carol/Daryl finding her in season 2. I wouldn’t expect them to connect until late episode 4 or episode 5, but they will have to be separated again by the end of 6.  They will need that time to tell their story and have the audience care again about their connection. Nicotera said in a recent interview that the DD spin-off talk began 7 years ago.  It was supposed to be set in the American West where Daryl encounters different groups each week.  He referenced three OLD shows as examples.

 One was Kung Fu with David Caradine. 

I could go into detail, but each show he referenced is about a man who is searching for something/someone and encounters different people who they change and are changed by them before moving onto the next place on the search.  Yes, I had to research each one.  They were before my time!  This stretched out search for Beth would have made sense then because the audience still remembered her and their connection vividly. That will not work now. It’s been too long and these series are finite. Gimple, sort of, said as much on the red carpet at the finale of the flagship. He said he was already past the spin-offs in his planning and was now thinking about how to develop the next generation and new stories while integrating the “iconic” characters. So, I don’t think these spin-offs will go much past three seasons. Especially with only six episodes per season, it doesn’t give that much time to develop these stories. 

Some non-storyline clues are that the release of EK’s album is on the 22nd of September right before episode 3 airs.  She has been releasing singles all summer.  Why wait for the album release until then?  Norman said in interviews last year that he would, “run into some familiar faces” in the spin-off.  Who else is going to run into in season 1 in France?

Just a few days ago there has been even MORE weirdness. An extra-long first episode?  All of episodes 1 and 2 being screened in theaters in four major cities on Monday?  WHY? I almost wonder if they decided to reveal Beth is alive at the end of episode 2. The ONLY reason to prescreen is to increase buzz, but really what hasn’t already been teased about those first two episodes? I understand that they may need more publicity due to the writer/actor strikes leading up to the release, but why would “spoiling” the first episodes really increase the buzz if it is JUST about the Laurent story?

I’m excited to see how it plays out!

@twdmusicboxmystery​:

I absolutely LOVE everything you’ve said here. Love the symbolic clues you’re looking at. Love your points about Dead City. Love your research into early iterations of the DD spinoff. (I kinda wonder if all the New Mexico symbolism from 11x01 was a nod to that.) Love all your points about publicity and such.

And you’re right. I heartily agree. I don’t have much to add, but all of your conclusions are the only thing that make sense. The only other “faces” we could run into are people like Heath and Davon. And don’t get me wrong, it would be fun to see them again. But it’s not like any of those characters will do much to further Daryl’s story.

And let’s not forget that ep 1 starts with an echo of Judith’s line about Daryl deserving a happy ending, too. Which means that one way or the other, he’ll find his true love and soulmate in this spinoff.

Can’t wait! Thanks SO much for your thoughts! Xoxo!  🍁 🍂 😍

[canonicallysoulmates]

Jensen and JDM Gold Panel NJCon 2023

Jared was not able to attend NJCon this weekend so in his place, we get two panels with JDM! I’m personally a big fan of Jeffrey so I’m glad he was able to do the boys this favor and attend the con to do the panels with Jensen. Also, you’re gonna see me use both JDM and Jeffrey interchangeably when referring to him.

The panel starts with Jeffrey saying that they’re trying to get their caffeine going and he mentions that he’s had 3 cokes already, Jensen doesn’t understand how he can drink that much soda when it has so much sugar in it and Jeffrey replies that he hears that every day from Hil and that the day previous he was driving and his daughter, George, who also loves coca-cola told him that Hil said he’s gonna pee rocks if he keeps drinking coke 😂

Jensen says he and Jeffrey still see each other and work on projects together 👀 But they can’t talk about it, and this is when he reveals that he actually got into trouble recently because of something he said about one of his upcoming projects at a con, he doesn’t reveal what it was, obviously, but he does say he got an e-mail basically telling him to shut up. And, JDM, shares that he had spoken to Karl Urban recently, and when he told him he’d be seeing Jensen at this con Karl told him he better talk to Kripke and see what he could say. Which they both say is basically nothing. 

Getting into the questions, the first one is somebody wanting to know if they could say hi to their mom on video. They do, Jensen also makes a Walking Dead pun, Jared would be proud 😆

In several of their projects, there have been SPN easter eggs, how much of that is from the writers and how much of it is from them? 

They say it’s a bit of both. Jensen says he thinks the show is a bit of an institution so a lot of the writers know at least of it. He asks Jeffrey if there were references that he threw in, Jeffrey replies that he threw in a couple in TWD that anytime he can throw in anything, and especially after Jensen did the thing with Lucille he was trying to work in any reference to his boy. So, Negan had a boy for a minute, and he says if you go back to s2 but I assume he meant his second season of being on TWD which would be s8 of that show if you go back and watch it he said it a couple of times and he thinks they kept it in thinking they’d use it but they never did. 

Jensen mentions the salt easter egg from Big Sky. For those that have not seen Big Sky, one of the characters moves into a new home and Jensen’s character gifts them a loaf of bread so they never go hungry, and salt for protection, it’s a very fun little wink about SPN. But originally it was meant to be just the bread, Jensen is the one who asked the prop department for the salt and they ended up keeping it in, and they started also writing in little homages to SPN. He also mentions that he directed an episode of Walker and the writer for that episode was a big fan of SPN so she was writing in a lot of little easter eggs. 

JDM adds that the cool thing is they've been lucky enough to be on shows like SPN, TWD, The Boys which are big shows that are gonna live on much longer than they are which is super cool because he doesn’t think there are a lot of shows that live in that category that are gonna go past the end date of the particular show so they’re lucky, and if they can work in those homages for the fans they will that it’s actually more fun for them. That they’re hoping someone gets the hint and puts them back in the show together. x

Is there anything new this year they would like to try, learn or accomplish? 

Jeffrey would like to try to be home for more than a minute, that it’s been like three years solid of going from show to show. He thought this weekend would be the first weekend he’s had off in forever because he thought the con was next week. 

Jensen would like to do a film! Says he doesn’t do a lot of movies, it’s a lot of series work so he doesn’t have time but right now he has some things for later in the year but he doesn’t have anything imminent, and he has a couple of tempting opportunities lined up. JDM comes in with some honesty saying the thing is that sometimes they’ll read the script and it’s not as good as you want it to be, one of the fans says that it’ll be better cause he’d be in it and he says he appreciates it but a piece of shit is a piece of shit. My man speaks facts. 

Anyways, Jensen says he’d like to do something that’s a bit out of the box, still in the wheelhouse but flexing another muscle. Jeffrey asks him if by out of the box he means stretch it a little bit cause he did a good stretch going from Dean to Soldier Boy. Jensen would also maybe like to do another concert. x

Is there anything they do in their day-to-day life to make themselves laugh?

Jensen says he amuses himself all the time, that it happens sporadically but he can’t recall what it is that he does right now but it reminds him of a story about how Don Rickles was on a date, and across the restaurant was Frank Sinatra and Don went over and asked Frank to do him the favor of going over to his table because his date would love to meet him and he really wants to impress this girl and Frank agreed so he finishes his meal and as he’s leaving the restaurant he stops by Don’s table and says, ‘hey, Don, how you doing? It’s good to see you.’ and Don goes ‘Not now Frank, I’m in the middle of dinner.’ x

How did Jeffrey do the movie Fall? He answers that a couple of years ago, he did a movie called Heist and the same director called him in the middle of the pandemic and asked if he’d appear in the movie Fall, and that’s it. Jensen says that’s a common story, that’s largely how a lot of people in their industry get jobs it’s because they have a relationship with somebody, it is largely getting to work with people who know you and you already have a rapport with and they know they can rely on you. Jeffrey says that’s why it’s important to be a decent person, and Jensen agrees that reputation is important. No disrespect to both of these men, but we all know that’s a lie. x

With their schedules so busy how and who does the prioritizing? They have a team of people what’s called a camp and it consists of people like their lawyers, managers, publicists, their wives. When a project or opportunity comes up, it gets kicked around the whole group to decide if it’s a good thing, if it fits, if it should be done or passed, that it’s all usually carefully crafted. There might be times when you get a call from a director who you worked with on another movie asking if you’d like to be on another of their projects and you say yes cause it’s a good relationship but it usually doesn’t go without getting checked by several pairs of eyes. 

JDM adds that sitting down to talk with their family is also important cause they gotta think about what’s best for them. But, Jensen says they also gotta listen to their gut and what their passionate about, he reveals he got pushback about doing Big Sky but it’s something he wanted to do so they signed off on it but he thinks coming off Soldier Boy they wanted him to do something grander but he was antsy. JDM says they both get antsy when they’re not working, especially when you have years working on the same show when that goes away and that routine is gone- they’re a mess no one wants to be around them including themselves. x

Who do they have to petition to get Jensen on Dancing with the Stars? Jeffrey gets so excited over this, he says he would sign that petition or for Jensen to be on the Masked Singer 😂 

Jensen replies that he can't imagine how depressed he’d be if that’s where his career ended up. That hopefully he’s far away from that ever happening but you never know he might need that career resurrection at some point. Then he realizes he’s being a little too honest, and says that there are very talented people on that show but that he once heard someone say - and he insists he’s not the one who said this - but basically, someone referred to Dancing with the Stars as Dancing with I’ve only heard of them once, and for some reason that stuck with Jensen so he’s gonna stay away from that and stick to dancing in his living room. x

The next two are not questions, it’s a fan who wants to say thank you because they’ve been a fan for a very long time. And one who’s- I’m not sure I think it’s a family member of the fan’s birthday and they wanted to know if they could bring the person on stage and sing them a happy birthday, they can’t but they do wish them a happy birthday. x x

The last question is two-parter, have they watched One Tree Hill? And do they have a guilty pleasure song, movie, or series? Jeffrey loves Vanderpump Rules, it’s the one show he and Hil watch together, and he has never seen one episode of OTH. But the funny thing is he auditioned for the role of Keith Scott in the pilot of that show. 

Jensen has seen a few episodes cause he started dating D when she was on the show. He’s not the target demo for that but he can see the draw. JDM says he was way old for it, he was almost 40. As for guilty pleasures, Jensen says he keeps a few movies on his iPad in case he’s on a plane and he’s bored and wants to watch something, he has a few different categories depending on his mood, but the one that always ends up popping up is Tropic Thunder. x

Jensen and JDM Gold Panel NJCon 2023

[naughtyneganjdm]

i don't know how, but the negan h8ers have found me aswell.

My best suggestion? Block the people that bother you and don't give them attention because that's what they want. I had to do that with someone who has been stalking me for like years at this point. If you don't respond you don't give them the fuel to keep going. From my view, it looks like an angry Neggie shipper to me. I could be wrong, but I think the angry person writing you is someone who is angry that I said a large majority of the Neggie shippers appear to be racist. For example, I would see them wishing on twitter for the death of Annie and their baby calling Joshua a "coconut" or an "almond" One tweet specifically I saw someone calling for Joshua to be born and thrown in the fire immediately. So yeah, some Neggie shippers are very racist and unfortunately a lot of The Walking Dead fandom IS racist. I think you're getting messages from a disgruntled Neggie shipper. Not saying that Richonne shippers can't have venom, but a large part of this fandom is very toxic. Just block and ignore people. Those kinds of fans aren't worth your time. I still need a lesson myself in learning not to let things get to me. Blocking them gives them the ol' big middle finger.

[hypermania]

all your caryl posting is so bittersweet because i LOVE caryl but then i remember how hard the show tried to pull them apart and i get so mad all over again about tobin/ezekiel/connie/leah 😫

oh no don't get mad!!! just bask in all the caryl love.

this is so funny though because all of those people strengthened caryl in my eyes. the only one that even makes me angry is leah but it's not for caryl reasons. like tobin was just a role carol was playing and i'm sure she cared about him as much as she cared about any of the people at alexandria but it wasn't exactly a romance for the ages. he was just some dude and she was just playing a part. she would've sacrificed him for any one of her people at any given moment lol

and while i do believe she loved ezekiel, it was never fully real to her. it was a fantasy, like she said. she wanted to pretend it was happily ever after but in the end, he wasn't her person, and she wasn't the person she was trying to be when she was with him. i think all of that is really important character work for carol but even if it wasn't, their relationship was worth watching just to see ezekiel ask daryl to stay out of their marriage (despite daryl not doing anything other than existing) because ezekiel Knew.

the connie thing was cute and daryl deserves to have friends but like. it wasn't exactly romantic. every time it felt like the show was about to go there, daryl was like HEY LOOK IT'S MY BEST FRIEND CAROL WHO IS THE MOST IMPORTANT PERSON IN THE WORLD TO ME DO YOU GUYS KNOW ABOUT CAROL HAVE YOU MET CAROL I LOVE CAROL.

and leah. well. daryl wasn't even willing to choose her over negan lmao and i think it's telling that the only time during the course of eleven seasons that he has something even close to a romantic or sexual relationship with someone is when his best dude friend is missing/presumed dead and the love of his life is married to someone else.

the leah thing does bother me though because it served no purpose other than what feels like the shittiest fan service in existence. like, she did not need to be daryl's ex-lover for that storyline to play out, especially given that in the end neither of them chose each other and neither seemed to have a particularly difficult time not choosing each other. she could've just been some woman he came to care about and check in on because that's who he is and then one day she was just gone.

anyway, i assume leah was a bone the show threw at all the norman reedus girlies but like... those people want to see him fuck and/or be romantic or whatever. they want to be able to imagine that they're the love interest and the show depicted exactly zero of that so what even was the point lol

but mostly i dislike the existence of leah because she was the most boring possible option. ten seasons into this show and you already have queer!daryl (whether that means some version of asexual or gay or both) laid out in front of you and this is what you do? you were so perfectly set up for literally anything else and you decided that what people really needed to see was the fan favorite character with a conventionally attractive blonde woman who nobody cares about and who has zero impact on the narrative? cool. definitely not a waste of an episode.

anyway sorry for going on a rant. you did not ask about any of this but apparently i had some things to say asl;dfdjsa