#JUDY AND ROSIE MAKING MY HEART WARM AGAIN

[wexhappyxfew]

i feel like judy and rosie are that couple that’s goes all out for each other birthday. just delighted to spend an entire day celebrating and loving the other.

WAIT ANON OMFG YES. YOU ARE SO RIGHT. the way i read this and my heart immediately grew warm and soft and i was just like 🥹🥹🥹 you are so so right!!!

like of course they’d be that way especially after having kids and starting a family but that first year or two where it’s just them, and they’re simply just enjoying their lives with one another, figuring out what they want to do and how they want to live — they’d 100% be doing all that.

i KNOW rosie would be planning at least weeks in advance. and they’d probably have a little get together with friends the day before or something, but the actual day of her birthday, it’d probably be the two of them. and he’d ABSOLUTELY be making her breakfast in bed, getting her flowers, soaking in the morning to cuddle with her and they could just lay in bed and talk (something judy enjoys more than anything). and then they’d go out (and they probably live somewhere in NYC, a promise he made to judy a while back <3) and have lunch somewhere pretty, maybe somewhere outside with a view of the hudson.

they’d enjoy walking around the city (something that is judy’s favorite) and rosie would bring to all the cutest little shops and let her get whatever she wants. they’d spend the day out before coming in for the night, and he’d start making her favorite dish for dinner, turning on the radio and dancing by themselves in the kitchen - all smiling, joyful, light-hearted and warm and simply happy to be by one another’s side there. and of course they’d eat (rosie would get so excited to light some candles and put the fresh flowers in a new vase) and then they’d have dessert (usually some sort of cake or cookie, judy’s a fan of anything sweet) and then enjoy the night in the front room. sitting in the parlor, listening to music, judy opening her presents from both him and their families and friends. reading letters, laughing, possibly crying over people she hasn’t seen in quite some time and then curled into one another’s side. and maybe they’d take the party upstairs because why not — rosie wants to celebrate the woman who is judy rybinski :)

and NO DOUBT when judy gets wind of rosie’s birthday back in their time at thorpe abbotts she plans and plans for his birthday here in NYC. one filled with both their families and some of the neighbors. the day starts with them going out to brunch and walking around the local area, making taking time at the park, just to lounge in the sun, talk to one another. no doubt judy can’t control herself from kissing his cheek as she loved to do every so often as she hears him ramble on and on about God knows what. and eventually they’d go back, and start setting up for the party — rosie always talked about wanting a big party with family and friends and the truest form of love is one where to be seen and heard is to be loved <33333

so of course, judy’s wanting to make everything right — all the food, drinks, appetizers, main course, dessert, that the party decorations are all in order, music’s playing. and rosie’s coming over to wrap his arms around her and lovingly kiss her cheek and tell her everything’s alright, that it’s perfect and more than he could’ve asked for. and then the families are coming over, and there’s parents and cousins and siblings, and the house is alive with life. and at some point, from across the room, judy meets rosie’s eyes and they share a quiet smile just for the two of them. and then they eat, and let rosie open gifts (to which judy is sitting there like a lovesick puppy watching him look like a young boy again opening those gifts). and then there’s dessert and listening to music and then the families are heading out, staying somewhere in town, and it’s just judy and rosie again.

they sit downstairs for a while, enjoying one another’s company….maybe there’s a bit of a make out session in there or two because why not, it’s rosie’s birthday and judy couldn’t help but show him the love she feels for him :’)

LIKE. I JUST KNOW THEYD BE SO SWEET WITH EACH OTHER. AND WHOLESOME. HELLA WHOLESOME. and the height. difference. judy constantly looking up at rosie with a big grin and rosie looking down at her with that soft little gaze he has only for her. like STFU IM CRYING YALL STOPPPPPPPP 😭😭😭😭😭 i need more of this. i need to WRITE THIS. anon. this was fantastic. oh my god. THEM. THEM THEM THEM.

please enjoy my ramblings and thoughts on this bc yes anon — you know them too well :)

[tvrningout-a]

95. sender cradles receivers face in their hands. from bill to kaiya 🥺

the meme's here somewhere | @fanaticist's bill cradles kaiya's face!

she has no use for strawberries, blueberries, or even raspberries, yet kaiya grows them anyway; she gives them to bill when he's over, pushes a basket into his hands with a grin and a promise that he'll be back to return the basket. it's more about having a reason to see him again than anything, if she's being honest, but she hopes he likes the berries. she's given him so many.

sometimes he helps her pick them, arriving just as she's donned an apron and her gloves -- like today. the sun's gone down, but the air is still warm, comfortable. she asks about his day, how judy's doing. the conversation is easy, comfortable.

she's missed this. she's missed him.

" it's been a little while, so i made some jam with the strawberries that were ready. i didn't want them to go to waste, " kaiya mentions, standing up and balancing her basket against her hip. she feels light as a feather when bill looks at her. " if you like it, i can always make more. "

she turns to head inside, but bill catches her by the face, cradling rosy cheeks as surprise flits across her features. then she smiles ( and oh, it's like the stars sigh ). " do i have dirt on my face? " she practically speaks in a whisper, though she doesn't mean to. her heart skips a beat as bill's thumb sweeps across her cheek as if spurred on by her question ( as if he hadn't even noticed any dirt ). the demoness leans into his touch, eyes fluttering shut as she grips his wrist with her free hand. her voice is but a murmur, then, nearly lost to the wind.

" i... i manage to get it everywhere when i'm gardening. "

[thekingdomofelfhame]

Jurdan Fanfic: Jealousy

Summary: Jude feels that Cardan hasn’t been giving her much attention since she came back from the mortal realm after visit her sisters. She decides to play a game with him when an opportunity arises at a party...

I am not surprised to see Cardan lounging on his throne, extremely drunk, the bloodcrown resting on his brow. He wears one of his ridiculous robes, one with a massive number of black feathers stretching from his shoulders to his ankles.

How does he not trip in such extravagant clothing?

I snap out of my thoughts as I feel a hand on my shoulder, heavy yet comforting and I turn around to see my twin sister, Taryn, her hair tied up into a beautiful bun, making her hair look like a rose. She is dressed in a forest green gown that glimmers like a thousand emeralds in the moonlight, her legs showing from the slit in her dress.

“Hey”

“Hi. So what are you up to nowadays?”

“Oh. You know. Trying to correspond with the low courts, crushing small rebellions and other usual stuff. Honestly, I have not been able to find time for myself”

“And that is why I want you to meet someone”

“What are you up to?”, I ask suspiciously and she just gives me a sly smile before saying, “Come on! You are going to love him”

Before I can protest, she takes me by my hand and drags me through the crowd to a grey-haired man with blue amber-lined eyes, a tattoo partially covering his arm.

“Hey, Sky!”, Taryn says excitedly.

“Hi, Taryn. I did not know you would be here”, he says, his voice deep and smoky. His eyes shift towards me and my midnight blue dress, “this must be your twin sister. Judy? I am guessing?”, he says, extending his hand to me.

“Jude”, I snap and reach out to shake his hand, simultaneously giving my sister an exasperated look as she leaves me with him. Taryn has been dating quite a few guys since she killed Locke and each time sets up a meeting between me and her date, just so I can give my judgement and it has been worse than hell.

I skim the crowd to find Taryn, giving less attention to what Sky is saying; something about him being a wildlife photographer or something. I can’t seem to find Taryn and it makes my blood boil until I find Cardan’s black eyes upon me, not paying attention to the Fae standing beside him. That is when it hits me.

Not giving me much attention have you? Too bad. Let’s play a game

I turn back to Sky who seems to have finished his story, “So, what about you? What is your occupation?”

“Really? Taryn did not tell you”, I say, twirling my chestnut curls, “I am the seneschal”. I lie with ease as I feel Cardan’s gaze on me, sending a shiver down my spine. And yet, I continue to flirt with Sky as he continues to flirt with me and the only indication of our silent flirting was the smirk on his face and the smile on mine.

I feel as if I have flirted enough as I turn around to see Cardan, his eyes filled with fury. He jumps up from his throne and walks towards us while I pretend that I am oblivious of him, oblivious of his fury, oblivious of the fact that I was his wife and he was my husband.

“And that is how I met Taryn”, he says, waiting for me to speak.

“I wish I was there. I would have witnessed your cuteness long before my sister”

We both laugh at that but soon stop when Cardan interrupts, his hand firm on my waist.

“Please do entertain me with one of your jokes as well”, Cardan says, his voice rough. 

“Oh, hey, Cardan! I almost didn’t see you there. Sky here was just telling me about himself”, I say exhilarated before turning back to Sky, “You should really tell Cardan about your time with the whale”

“I do not think that will be necessary”, Cardan interrupts, clearly exasperated.

“And why is that?”, I question him.

“Because, Jude dearest, we have to leave”

“What about--”

“Now!”

I don’t even get to say goodbye to Sky as Cardan pulls me away, his breath ragged with anger and I am certain I would have a hand-shaped bruise on my waist in the morning.

I protest all the way to our chambers while Cardan remains dead silent and does not utter a single word until we reach our chambers.

“What the hell was that?!”

“It is not necessary for you to know”, he says calmly while locking the door.

“What do you mean ‘it is not necessary for you to know’? Are you crazy? Have you lost your mind? What will Taryn’s boyfriend think of you now? Huh? For God’s sake, answer me!!!”

He does not answer for a long time, just...stares.

That is when I draw the line and rush towards the door, “Fine. If you don’t wanna answer me, don’t. I am gonna go back to the party and clear your mess”, I shout and add, “Oh, and I will be staying at Vivi’s today. You can sleep here alone tonight”

I am about to unlock the door when his hand grabs a hold of my arm, turning me around to face him.

“Jude”, his voice is apologetically soft.

“What?!”, I am sure half of Elfhame must have heard my voice, “Cardan, I do not know what is wrong with you! You are not answering me! You have been ignoring me since I came back!”

His expression changes. His face is unreadable. 

He steps towards me, closing that last bit of distance between us.

“You think I have been ignoring you?”

“Aren’t you? Let’s take tonight, for example. What kind of a person leaves his wife alone in a party?!”

“Jude. You had company. What was his name? Sky, was it?”

“He is Taryn’s boyfriend! I only got stuck with him because of Taryn!”

“But you seemed to be enjoying yourself”, he looks down as his cheeks redden.

“I was only pretending for Taryn!”

Relief floods his face and his cheeks are now a striking red.

Is he blushing?

“Thank god you were only pretending because I swear he was looking at your body the whole time. I really wanted to punch him and I would have if it wasn’t for you”

“Cardan Greenbriar, are you jealous?”, I tease. 

He does not answer but instead kisses my neck.

His lips are soft and warm against my skin and the way he kisses me... soft and raw.

Finally, he pulls back and says, “yes” and before I can tease him more, his lips find mine. My hands go to his silky black hair that are now damp with sweat. His lips move along my jaw finally stopping by my ear to whisper, “ Only I get to touch you this way. Oh, and by the way, I was not ignoring you. I was simply giving you space to adjust as my Queen and Elfhame’s”.

If my heart could explode, it would have. 

He was so caring. Why did I have to be angry at such a beautiful and kind person?

I cannot control my emotions and, despite my attempt to blink my tears away, my eyes start bursting with them and my nose becomes runny.

Cardan must have sensed my flooding emotions for he pressed my head to his chest, one arm wrapped around my waist while the other playing with my hair. Tears trickled down my rosy red cheek that was now drenched in sweat.

“Jude”, Cardan says pressing a kiss to my forehead, “please do not punish me this way or I may go and do more than just punch that guy”. I laugh so sudden and hard that I wheeze.

“You know, no matter how upset I am, you always seem to make me laugh”

“Well, that is my job. Isn’t it, my sweet nemesis?”. With that, he kisses me again. None of us really sleep that night and the next morning I wake up with a hand-shaped bruise on my waist...

[couragehopelovefaith]

My favorite friendships/BROTPS (part 2)

Jack and Mr. Gibbs

It’s very possible that the bond with this two goes to waaay back when. Can you imagine how many schemes they have created together? Some of those went “according to plan”, some of them very likely didn’t. What I love about them is that they are never afraid to be direct with each other - especially when the other one is doing or planning something idiotic. Even if they would be apart for a reason or another for quite some time, they can always trust to each other to hold their ground. Their iconic line “Take what you can - give nothing back” always makes me emotional for some reason.

Donna, Rosie and Tanya

I wanna belong to this gang. Seriously. There for each other through everything, partying and performing like there’s no tomorrow, lifting each other up... It broke my heart in the beginning of the sequel when I realized that one of the three musketeers - or Dynamos - was gone. I just adore this trio. 

��Grey’s Anatomy” and “Once Upon A Time” include many great friendships that deserve some attention.

Meredith and Christina

What can I even say about these two? They are each other’s persons. Their friendship was a reallly massive part of the shows  core and I was really emotional when Christina left. Their discussions are hilarious: even though they sometimes seem to talk about a completely different things or didn’t talk at all, they were able to get some huge support from each other - or just dance it out, when they felt like it.

McDreamy and McSteamy

Even women and cheating issues couldn’t come between these two. Death eventually parted them, but I wanna believe that they reunited later. Losing Mark really affected Derek. I can’t explain why I like them so much. I just do. I love the friendship between Mark and Callie to the moon and back as well.

Emma and Elsa

I truly wish we would’ve seen more of their friendship. They really understood each other’s struggles with abandonment, anxiety and their powers. In my mind, Emma asked her to be Hope’s godmother and her and Killian get letters from Arendelle at least once a month. Even though I’m a huge Captain Swan-shipper, a tiny piece of my heart belongs to Frozen Swan. Seriously, Emma would’ve needed more healthy friendships.

Charming and Hook

These two have come such a long way, haven’t they? At first, Charming was really prejudiced about pirates and Hook’s past and doubted if Killian is good enough for his daughter. As a surprise for both of them, Killian had killed David’s father in the past, when he still was a different man. But when trust and connection between them started to develop, even this didn’t stop their bromance and they solved it out by forgiveness. David really learned to trust his “son... in-law”. When I think about OUAT, some of their discussions and funny scenes are first ones that come to my mind,  

Snow & Red, Ariel & Belle and Ariel & Hook

These three duos just warm my heart. Red helped Snow to hide from the Evil Queen and Snow taught her to accept her wolf-side and encouraged her to go after her true love. I love the consept of Belle and Ariel; Belle could’ve teach her so much about human world and they could’ve travelled together. Ariel and Hook haven’t had the easiest past considering what happened to Eric, but I always liked their common storylines. Like Emma, Ariel helped Hook to see the man he could be and encouraged their relationship. She also helped Hook to defeat Ursula and was always very honest with him. I would’ve wanted to see more scenes with AU-versions of them. I don’t know, something about the friendship between mermaid and pirate just intrigues me.

Alice and Mad Hatter (Tarrant)

There’s just something adorable about these two. I feel like a broken record, but they had so much potential to be more than friends as well. It’s so heartbreaking to think that he waited for Alice all those years. In addition, the both goodbye scenes between them are heartbreaking. But, on the other hand, he was so happy to see her again got the chance to watch her regain her muchness again.

Harry, Hermione and Ron

Oh, yes… the golden trio.. :) Such a huge part of my childhood, couldn’t leave them out. The reasons are so obvious for me that it is really hard to describe them. Even if it bugs me that the movies erased much of Ron’s bravery and loyalty and gave many of his iconic lines to Hermione, I love these three - both in the books and the films. 

Lizzie, Gordo and Miranda

Another iconic trio of my childhood.. ;) I really love their dynamic. A part of me wondered if I should just choose Lizzie and Miranda, because I really started to ship Lizzie and Gordo at some point, but it would’ve felt wrong to leave him out. This is what dreams are made of.

Nick and Judy

Dumb bunny and the sly fox...or was it other way around? Anyways, Carrot and Nick are my bromance of the animation world with Timon and Pumba and Lumiere and Cogsworth. They come from so different situations but still have so much in common. Their bickering, sassiness and emotional discussions… I freaking love it. It’s no wonder that Zootopia is still one of my favorite animated movies. “Boom.”

None of these gifs are mine. All credit goes to their respective owners.

[theresnosafeharbor4myships]

written for my Caryl secret santa: Caryl, back in the good ol’ days <3

Sweet Exchange (also on 9L)

The last of the leaves falling from the trees and the chill setting in their bones told them winter had officially arrived, and with it, Christmas. Celebrating holidays hadn’t occurred to them amidst the running and fighting and scavenging and surviving, but with things finally settling down and the Woodbury lot talking about Christmas being a few days away, the prison was abuzz with the idea of a party.

It’d taken some getting used to, having people around again—and especially ones nearly incapable of protecting themselves—but their small family had slowly opened up. The groups had begun working together, and they’d started construction on a covered outdoor mess hall, prepping the yard for spring planting, building a corral for the animals they intended to have, and going on runs to help provide for the group-at-large.

Daryl had returned from one of those runs not two days ago. He liked being out on the road, preferred it actually, but there was something to be said for having a place to come home to. And home it had become. Not because of the place, though having walls and some semblance of security helped, but because of the people waiting for him, depending on him, welcoming him back.

Still, he found the sheer number of them stifling sometimes. The noise and problems, chatter and complaints, company and neediness, the need to fill quiet spaces with unnecessary words…it all exhausted him, and he often excused himself when too many gathered around.

Like now.

He rubbed his hands together in an attempt to garner warmth. Guard duty had become nearly unbearable after the sun set, but he only had himself to blame since he’d offered to stay on watch while everyone else enjoyed the Christmas festivities.

He cupped his hands around his mouth, breathing hot air onto them before shoving them back into his pockets and scanning the grounds below. The night was dead, and not just because of the handful of walkers roaming the horizon. The air stung, the temperature much too frigid for anything living to want to encroach on their territory. Still, he kept his eyes peeled, even as he wondered what the merry-making inside looked like.

Was Rick wearing that dumb elf hat with the big ears on it that Michonne had found in a storage closet last week? Was Carl pretending Judy was the baby in the manger again? Was Beth leading the group in a round of Christmas carols? Was Carol decorating that wimpy Peanuts-style Christmas tree that Glenn had dragged in? Was she keeping warm? Maybe wearing that red sweater she’d claimed that made her eyes shine like stars and her cheeks look extra rosy? Was she smiling at the kids’ antics? Rocking Judith to sleep? Was she chatting it up with that guy, Greg, the one he’d noticed gravitating towards her lately? Did she enjoy the man’s company? Did she even miss his presence, notice he wasn’t around?

He shook his head, clearing away the frustrating thought that she might not even have noticed his absence, and focused on the yard around and far below him.

It’s not like he had any claim to her. Sure, they’d paired up last winter, after they’d lost the farm, but only because nearly everyone else had someone to keep warm with. She’d started flirting with him then, causing his cheeks to flush and his mind to go numb until an unimpressive ‘stahp’ was all he could muster. She’d mustered all the strength she had and hugged him fiercely after he’d found her in that tomb, nearly gone with dehydration, and he’d silently gulped in air, his breath sucked away by the adrenaline still boiling from his frantic pacing a few minutes before and the debilitating relief that he’d found her alive. He hadn’t realized until that moment how much he’d come to care for her, and it scared the shit out of him. And after that…when he’d ditched them because he couldn’t escape his past, he’d known deep down she’d forgive him for traipsing off with Merle, even as the fear that she wouldn’t gnawed at him. But she had—and had even welcomed him and the jackass back into their fold.

He heart seized at the memory of Merle’s walker stumbling towards him. Had it really only been a month ago? A month since he’d ended the dead thing wearing Merle’s face? A month since he’d returned to the prison—where he belonged, he’d stubbornly told Merle—shuffling through the gate and finding his way to Carol? Since she’d taken one look at his expression and let a small “oh” out on a breath before eating up the distance between them and wrapping her arms around his neck? He’d nearly resisted the embrace, arrogant enough to believe he could hide his grief and handle it without the support of someone who cared about him, but the words he’d mumbled to Merle—can’t do things without people anymore, man—rang in his ears, and he dropped his head onto her shoulder and silently wept. If anyone in their group understood the emotions roiling through him, the bitterness and anger, the gratitude followed by the shame, the hatred and relief, the agony of it all, Carol would.

He swallowed hard against the sadness that still came over him in waves. Carol knew, better than anyone he’d ever met. She empathized but didn’t make excuses for him, called things as she saw them. And saw the man he’d become without his older brother casting that menacing shadow he’d never been able to shake until her.

She intrigued him, this woman who’d suffered her own abuses and come out the better side of it, so different from him. Kind and sweet and strong as hell, where he’d become silent, bitter, and defensive. He’d tried to fight it, attempted to remain indifferent, but he craved her presence. Felt drawn to her in a way that made his heart beat fast and his breath catch in his throat.

And instead of sitting inside celebrating a Charlie Brown Christmas with her, he’d offered to freeze to death alone. What an ass.

He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, his left hand finding the small trinket he’d left there and turning it over and over in his palm.

He’d happened upon it a few days ago. He and Michonne had searched for the Governor for two weeks before returning to the prison. On the way home, they’d discovered a small group of farm houses tucked into a grove they’d never discovered before. A small community belonging to a long-gone religious sect, if he had to guess. They’d made quick work of scavenging and had come away with a few useful items. And he with the small gift in his pocket.

He’d paused when he’d first seen it, shocked that something so perfect existed, then snatched it up and hidden it away before Michonne noticed and set about teasing him. She ribbed him relentlessly, and something about making him blush amused her. He didn’t need to give her any more ammo for her arsenal.

“Hey, you ready to go inside?”

He peered over the watchtower bars to see Ty staring up at him. “Party all done?”

“Mostly. Kids have gone to bed, and everyone else was headed that way when I left.” Ty started climbing the staircase. “You missed a lot of good fun in there.”

Daryl didn’t feel a need to respond. The dour mood he’d set himself in only had sarcastic remarks, and Ty didn’t deserve to be on the end of his self-pity trip.

“We left you some dinner,” Ty told him as he reached the landing. “Still warm too, I think.”

“Thanks.” Daryl passed his machine gun to Ty and grabbed up his crossbow, slinging the worn strap across his chest. “Stay warm; it’s only gonna get colder before morning,” he predicted as he started down the stairs.

“I’m gonna try.”

Daryl ambled toward the cell block, trying to shake away the darkness that had settled in his mind, but too much time alone, in his own head, with his morbid thoughts—and all because he preferred playing the outcast—had soured his mood and left his heart feeling cold.

As if he weren’t freezing already.

He hurried inside to warm up, hoping everyone had dispersed and he could eat his dinner in peace.

He closed the cell block door, effectively shutting the biting air outside, and made his way to the dining area. Red, silver, and gold baubles and garland graced the wimpy tree in the corner, nearly weighing it down with their joviality, and a few shreds of string and what had likely been gift wrapping still littered the floor. Laughter rang down the halls, taunting him in his loneliness, and suddenly the thought of eating dinner alone surrounded by sights of the season didn’t seem so appealing.

Heaving a sigh, he ignored the cheery, intermittent voices from the cell blocks and headed to the stove. He poured himself a cup of warm coffee and snagged some of the turkey jerky he’d made and a small can of fruit before heading toward his cell.

The main room stood empty, the low voices he’d heard coming from sheet-covered cells throughout the block. The noise would drown out any sound he made, but he still walked carefully, not in the mood to encounter any straggling partiers.

He’d nearly made it to his cell when Carol popped her head out of her room and spotted him. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you!”

In your cell? he wondered despondently, nodding noncommittally in response.

“I was just bundling up to come find you.”

Daryl stopped outside of his room as she moved towards him, wearing one of the winter jackets and a scarf they’d pilfered. “Couldn’t find my gloves. But now that you’re here….mind if I join you?”

She had noticed him missing from the party…and had set out to find him? He felt a fluttering in his belly. At least she wasn’t spending the rest of the evening with Greg.

Suddenly her hand was on his arm. “You okay?” she asked, looking concerned.

It don’t mean nothin’ special. Shake it off, Dixon, he scolded himself. Act like a normal human being for once. “Yeah. Just cold.”

“Well, let’s get you warmed up. Mind if I sit with you for a while?”

He shook his head in response, too overcome with images of her helping him get warm to form words.

She pulled back the curtain covering his cell, and he dipped inside with her right behind him. Flipping on the small lamp and leaning against the desk, he motioned towards the bed, offering her the more comfortable seat, but she shook her head. “You’ve been on guard duty for hours. You get comfy and relax.”

“You sure?”

She smiled sweetly at him, nodding, and he moved to the bed, setting his coffee cup on the ground at his feet as she turned the desk chair around to face him. He placed his crossbow in the corner by his bed and slipped out of his jacket, leaving it pooled around him as he sat.

Carol removed her scarf and heavy coat and draped them over the back of the chair as she plopped down. Her proximity made him nervous, and though he didn’t want her to leave, he didn’t exactly want her so close—only a few feet away—with the curtain sealing them off from others. It made his heart thunder wildly in his chest, his thoughts run rampant. With the others around, he found it easier to act indifferent; hell, he wouldn’t be able to handle the ridicule if they knew how desperately he craved her, how often she occupied his thoughts, so he played it safe and kept it cool. But when they were alone—and that had started to happen more and more frequently—he felt sure she could read his thoughts, hear his heartbeat running fast. It was dangerous to have her so close. And yet so far, he reminded himself.

“Did you see our tree?” she asked, merriment on her face. “The kids went crazy when they saw the decorations Michonne and Glenn brought out. They almost knocked it over a few times, all of them trying to decorate at once.”

He didn’t trust himself to speak without sounding harsher than necessary, so he harrumphed in response, giving a small nod, and started eating the turkey jerky.

“Carl wanted to sing, so he and Beth led everyone in some songs, but when Carl started Jingle Bells with ‘Jingle bells, Batman smells,’ Rick called it quits.”

He granted her an amused look but otherwise remained quiet and continued munching.

You’re an idiot, he scolded himself. She’s been running miles around that race track in your mind for hours. Now she’s here in front of you, no one else around, and you clam up like you got lockjaw.

He glanced up at her and saw that his silence had subdued her mood.

Why can’t you act halfway decent?

“Hershel read the Christmas story,” she continued with a bit less enthusiasm. “And we let the kids open their gifts…mainly books from the library, and the chalk and the puzzles you brought back the other day.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Was nothin’.” Her intense stare made him want to fidget, but he willed himself to refrain.

“It meant the world to the kids. It’s not gonna be often…if ever...that we get to open gifts again,” she explained softly. “It lifted everyone’s spirits.”

He gave a small nod and started gnawing on the inside of his lip, unsure how to handle her praise. He felt comfortable in front of walkers and with weapons, but kind words from this slip of a woman with the bright blue eyes and he melted, powerless, like snow in the sun. Slowly, ever so slowly, she was thawing him out.

Her talk of gifts reminded him of the one in his pocket. He’d meant to wrap it, to wait until she was on guard duty and leave it on her bed or perhaps tuck it into her hands before he set out on the next scheduled run, but something in this moment prodded him.  Give it to her…now or never, he told himself. Just ‘cause you’re an ass doesn’t mean you gotta keep bein’ one.

Setting his snacks aside and avoiding her gaze, he fumbled around with his jacket, trying to find the pocket with her gift in it. “I, uh…” He cleared his throat. “I got somethin’ for you. For Christmas.” He withdrew a fisted hand from his jacket. “Didn’t….get a chance to wrap it.”

He raised his eyes to see her staring at him in wonder. “Ain’t much,” he mumbled, holding his hand out towards her.

She cupped her hands together beneath his, and he watched her as he placed the gift into her hands. A panoply of expressions crossed her face: surprise, happiness, excitement, anticipation. Holding the jewelry in one hand, she picked up one of the pieces with the other. “Oh, Daryl,” she breathed.

The large stud earrings had creamy-white pearlescent petals with a tiny golden center, and silver rimmed the edges, giving them a regal appearance.

“Cherokee rose. I just thought…well…it’s—”

He stopped stuttering when she abruptly moved from the chair and sat down next to him, but before he could speak again she leaned toward him and slipped her arms around his neck.

“Thank you,” she whispered near his ear, hugging him close.

He froze in place, her touch burning his skin, her scent, light and floral, overpowering his senses, her breath sending shivers down his spine. His heart staccatoed against his ribcage, and he felt certain they could hear it in the next cell block.

She was going to kill him long before he’d ever gather the courage to tell her how he felt  

He slid his arms around her, tentatively holding her like he’d done not so long ago. That hug—borne out of relief and desperation, he knew—had surprised him, but since it’d been a matter of life and death, he understood it. This…this felt entirely different. Full of gratitude, happiness, and a sort of intimacy he couldn’t help but both crave and fear.

“They’re beautiful,” she enthused as she withdrew, looking at the earrings in her hand like they were diamonds. “Cherokee roses...” She met his gaze, and for a moment he thought she might cry. “Thank you.”

“You remembered,” he murmured.

“I could never forget. It was the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me. And...I saw the one out on the grave...” she admitted quietly.

He felt the twitch of his eye, his tell of discomfort when someone got too close, and looked away. “Thought you were gone.”

He heard the sadness in his tone, felt his heart clench at the memory of almost losing her. Of finding her. Of bringing her back to the group and having her with him, with them, again.

She covered his hand with one of her own. “I know,” she whispered.

“Didn’t know how else…to pay my respects. Didn’t know how else to say goodbye. I was so angry that we lost… We went lookin’ for you…after we found T, found Lori. I didn’t want you to…be one of them or, or stay one of them. I couldn’t…it’d already been a few days and I couldn’t leave you like that.”

He saw the forgotten scarf on the ground, the knife she’d used to defend herself. Recalled how he’d jammed that knife over and over again into the floor, the wall, hoping to release some of emotions threatening to spill over. He hadn’t meant to tell her how he’d discovered her hiding place, but now that he’d started he couldn’t stop.

“I found a walker with your knife in its neck, and…I hated the thought of you down there by yourself, tryin’ to find a way out, fightin’ them things by yourself.” He shook his head, his eyes full of fire and hurt and miles away. “I made them leave me down there….in the tombs. I…after losing T and Lori, with Rick head-sick, and me tryin’ to keep everyone alive and make sure Asskicker had food, I…I couldn’t take it anymore. I made them leave me alone. Wallowin’ like a damn fool when they all needed me… I worked myself up to be able to…to put you down if I had to. We promised, and I would have, but…”

“But you found me. You brought me back.” Carol ducked her head trying to meet his gaze, and he finally met her eyes, coming back to the present. “Thank you…for saving me. For finding me.” She reached up and brushed his hair away from his eyes. “For the Cherokee roses that’ve given me strength and hope. And now I get to keep them…keep you…with me always.”

His heart seized in his chest, and he thought he might’ve stopped breathing for a moment. He stared at her, her words washing over him like a healing balm. She couldn’t mean what she’d said…could she? He’d used the rose to lend her hope when she’d lost it; now she was using it to bind them together. How she could do that, could turn the moment from maudlin to miraculous in a few heartbeats, left him speechless.

He cleared his throat, breaking the tension that crackled in the air, and he felt time snap back into place.

She held his gaze as she put the earrings on. “I love them,” she declared. She turned her head from side to side, showcasing them. “How do they look?”

He couldn’t help staring. In the dim light of his lamp, she looked soft and inviting, her smile blazing brightly at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “They’re perfect,” he breathed.

Carol covered his hand with one of hers. “Thank you,” she said softly, her words heavy. “I have something for you too.”

He furrowed his brow as she moved to her jacket and rifled through its folds. She glanced at him once conspiratorially before withdrawing a package wrapped crudely in soft leather and tied with a string. “Here.” She proffered the package to him, returning to her seat next to him on the bed.

Daryl swallowed hard, entirely unprepared for this exchange. It’d taken all of his willpower to give the earrings to her. But to know she’d thought of him too, had prepared and wrapped a gift, and had it in her pocket as she’d set out to find him tonight meant he’d been right: he was an ass for avoiding their first Christmas.

He untied the string and peeled back the cloth to reveal a coiled piece of leather. “What is it?” he murmured as he unwound it. The leather strap had a familiar-looking connecting piece at each end, and he realized he held a new, better version of a crossbow sling.

“I know you said yours was giving out,” Carol explained. “And I want to make sure you stay safe.”

“How did you…?” He trailed off in wonder, noting “D I X O N” emblazoned across the middle of the strap.

“That guy, Greg…? He’s a leather craftsmen. When I found out, I asked him to help me. We’ve been working on it for a few weeks; just finished today. I wanted to give you something nice. You do so much for us, for all of us, I wanted to do a little something special for you.”

He stared at the sling, unable to meet her gaze, his mind spinning. Useful, practical, and something she’d come up with on her own…she’d helped handcraft a personalized gift for him? ‘I want to make sure you stay safe,’ she’d said, but walkers were the least of his worries. She’d disarmed him with gentle words, kind eyes, sweet smiles, and tender touches. He’d fallen prey to her willful spirit, her fierce loyalty, her fathomless heart. She’d captured him as a wounded animal, angry, biting, bitter, and full of scorn, and softly, gently, methodically wooed him to her. And he didn’t care that he was her prisoner.

“Carol…”

The jealousy he’d felt as he’d watched her with Greg the past few weeks turned into embarrassment, and he thanked the heavens she couldn’t read his thoughts. He felt sheepish knowing she’d spent time with Greg because she’d been working on a gift for him. He really was an ass.

“This is…perfect.” He finally raised his head to meet her eyes, and as relief washed over her face, he realized how long he’d sat silent.

“I’m glad you like it. Should be the same length as the original; hopefully it fits right.”

He gazed at her, in awe of the compassionate, fiery, powerful force of nature before him. “Thank you.” He imbued the words with all of the sentiments he didn’t know how to voice yet.

Carol’s face broke into an understanding smile. “Merry Christmas, Daryl.”

He nodded. “Merry Christmas.”

[carylerxsecretsanta]

Sweet Exchange

for @captain-coffeebean

Title:  Sweet Exchange Author: theresnosafeharbor4myships Rating: PG Summary: It’s time for a Christmas celebration, but Daryl isn’t feeling the love…until Carol shows up to bring him out of his funk. <3 A/N: Happy Christmas and Holidays to you, captain-coffeebean!! I hope your season has been full of blessings and love and good times. Hope you enjoy this fic from back when things were fun and mildly angsty between Caryl :D

The last of the leaves falling from the trees and the chill setting in their bones told them winter had officially arrived, and with it, Christmas. Celebrating holidays hadn’t occurred to them amidst the running and fighting and scavenging and surviving, but with things finally settling down and the Woodbury lot talking about Christmas being a few days away, the prison was abuzz with the idea of a party.

It’d taken some getting used to, having people around again—and especially ones nearly incapable of protecting themselves—but their small family had slowly opened up. The groups had begun working together, and they’d started construction on a covered outdoor mess hall, prepping the yard for spring planting, building a corral for the animals they intended to have, and going on runs to help provide for the group-at-large.

Daryl had returned from one of those runs not two days ago. He liked being out on the road, preferred it actually, but there was something to be said for having a place to come home to. And home it had become. Not because of the place, though having walls and some semblance of security helped, but because of the people waiting for him, depending on him, welcoming him back.

Still, he found the sheer number of them stifling sometimes. The noise and problems, chatter and complaints, company and neediness, the need to fill quiet spaces with unnecessary words…it all exhausted him, and he often excused himself when too many gathered around.

Like now.

He rubbed his hands together in an attempt to garner warmth. Guard duty had become nearly unbearable after the sun set, but he only had himself to blame since he’d offered to stay on watch while everyone else enjoyed the Christmas festivities.

He cupped his hands around his mouth, breathing hot air onto them before shoving them back into his pockets and scanning the grounds below. The night was dead, and not just because of the handful of walkers roaming the horizon. The air stung, the temperature much too frigid for anything living to want to encroach on their territory. Still, he kept his eyes peeled, even as he wondered what the merry-making inside looked like.

Was Rick wearing that dumb elf hat with the big ears on it that Michonne had found in a storage closet last week? Was Carl pretending Judy was the baby in the manger again? Was Beth leading the group in a round of Christmas carols? Was Carol decorating that wimpy Peanuts-style Christmas tree that Glenn had dragged in? Was she keeping warm? Maybe wearing that red sweater she’d claimed that made her eyes shine like stars and her cheeks look extra rosy? Was she smiling at the kids’ antics? Rocking Judith to sleep? Was she chatting it up with that guy, Greg, the one he’d noticed gravitating towards her lately? Did she enjoy the man’s company? Did she even miss his presence, notice he wasn’t around?

He shook his head, clearing away the frustrating thought that she might not even have noticed his absence, and focused on the yard around and far below him.

It’s not like he had any claim to her. Sure, they’d paired up last winter, after they’d lost the farm, but only because nearly everyone else had someone to keep warm with. She’d started flirting with him then, causing his cheeks to flush and his mind to go numb until an unimpressive ‘stahp’ was all he could muster. She’d mustered all the strength she had and hugged him fiercely after he’d found her in that tomb, nearly gone with dehydration, and he’d silently gulped in air, his breath sucked away by the adrenaline still boiling from his frantic pacing a few minutes before and the debilitating relief that he’d found her alive. He hadn’t realized until that moment how much he’d come to care for her, and it scared the shit out of him. And after that…when he’d ditched them because he couldn’t escape his past, he’d known deep down she’d forgive him for traipsing off with Merle, even as the fear that she wouldn’t gnawed at him. But she had—and had even welcomed him and the jackass back into their fold.

He heart seized at the memory of Merle’s walker stumbling towards him. Had it really only been a month ago? A month since he’d ended the dead thing wearing Merle’s face? A month since he’d returned to the prison—where he belonged, he’d stubbornly told Merle—shuffling through the gate and finding his way to Carol? Since she’d taken one look at his expression and let a small “oh” out on a breath before eating up the distance between them and wrapping her arms around his neck? He’d nearly resisted the embrace, arrogant enough to believe he could hide his grief and handle it without the support of someone who cared about him, but the words he’d mumbled to Merle—can’t do things without people anymore, man—rang in his ears, and he dropped his head onto her shoulder and silently wept. If anyone in their group understood the emotions roiling through him, the bitterness and anger, the gratitude followed by the shame, the hatred and relief, the agony of it all, Carol would.

He swallowed hard against the sadness that still came over him in waves. Carol knew, better than anyone he’d ever met. She empathized but didn’t make excuses for him, called things as she saw them. And saw the man he’d become without his older brother casting that menacing shadow he’d never been able to shake until her.

She intrigued him, this woman who’d suffered her own abuses and come out the better side of it, so different from him. Kind and sweet and strong as hell, where he’d become silent, bitter, and defensive. He’d tried to fight it, attempted to remain indifferent, but he craved her presence. Felt drawn to her in a way that made his heart beat fast and his breath catch in his throat.

And instead of sitting inside celebrating a Charlie Brown Christmas with her, he’d offered to freeze to death alone. What an ass.

He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, his left hand finding the small trinket he’d left there and turning it over and over in his palm.

He’d happened upon it a few days ago. He and Michonne had searched for the Governor for two weeks before returning to the prison. On the way home, they’d discovered a small group of farm houses tucked into a grove they’d never discovered before. A small community belonging to a long-gone religious sect, if he had to guess. They’d made quick work of scavenging and had come away with a few useful items. And he with the small gift in his pocket.

He’d paused when he’d first seen it, shocked that something so perfect existed, then snatched it up and hidden it away before Michonne noticed and set about teasing him. She ribbed him relentlessly, and something about making him blush amused her. He didn’t need to give her any more ammo for her arsenal.

“Hey, you ready to go inside?”

He peered over the watchtower bars to see Ty staring up at him. “Party all done?”

“Mostly. Kids have gone to bed, and everyone else was headed that way when I left.” Ty started climbing the staircase. “You missed a lot of good fun in there.”

Daryl didn’t feel a need to respond. The dour mood he’d set himself in only had sarcastic remarks, and Ty didn’t deserve to be on the end of his self-pity trip.

“We left you some dinner,” Ty told him as he reached the landing. “Still warm too, I think.”

“Thanks.” Daryl passed his machine gun to Ty and grabbed up his crossbow, slinging the worn strap across his chest. “Stay warm; it’s only gonna get colder before morning,” he predicted as he started down the stairs.

“I’m gonna try.”

Daryl ambled toward the cell block, trying to shake away the darkness that had settled in his mind, but too much time alone, in his own head, with his morbid thoughts—and all because he preferred playing the outcast—had soured his mood and left his heart feeling cold.

As if he weren’t freezing already.

He hurried inside to warm up, hoping everyone had dispersed and he could eat his dinner in peace.

He closed the cell block door, effectively shutting the biting air outside, and made his way to the dining area. Red, silver, and gold baubles and garland graced the wimpy tree in the corner, nearly weighing it down with their joviality, and a few shreds of string and what had likely been gift wrapping still littered the floor. Laughter rang down the halls, taunting him in his loneliness, and suddenly the thought of eating dinner alone surrounded by sights of the season didn’t seem so appealing.

Heaving a sigh, he ignored the cheery, intermittent voices from the cell blocks and headed to the stove. He poured himself a cup of warm coffee and snagged some of the turkey jerky he’d made and a small can of fruit before heading toward his cell.

The main room stood empty, the low voices he’d heard coming from sheet-covered cells throughout the block. The noise would drown out any sound he made, but he still walked carefully, not in the mood to encounter any straggling partiers.

He’d nearly made it to his cell when Carol popped her head out of her room and spotted him. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you!”

In your cell? he wondered despondently, nodding noncommittally in response.

“I was just bundling up to come find you.”

Daryl stopped outside of his room as she moved towards him, wearing one of the winter jackets and a scarf they’d pilfered. “Couldn’t find my gloves. But now that you’re here….mind if I join you?”

She had noticed him missing from the party…and had set out to find him? He felt a fluttering in his belly. At least she wasn’t spending the rest of the evening with Greg.

Suddenly her hand was on his arm. “You okay?” she asked, looking concerned.

It don’t mean nothin’ special. Shake it off, Dixon, he scolded himself. Act like a normal human being for once. “Yeah. Just cold.”

“Well, let’s get you warmed up. Mind if I sit with you for a while?”

He shook his head in response, too overcome with images of her helping him get warm to form words.

She pulled back the curtain covering his cell, and he dipped inside with her right behind him. Flipping on the small lamp and leaning against the desk, he motioned towards the bed, offering her the more comfortable seat, but she shook her head. “You’ve been on guard duty for hours. You get comfy and relax.”

“You sure?”

She smiled sweetly at him, nodding, and he moved to the bed, setting his coffee cup on the ground at his feet as she turned the desk chair around to face him. He placed his crossbow in the corner by his bed and slipped out of his jacket, leaving it pooled around him as he sat.

Carol removed her scarf and heavy coat and draped them over the back of the chair as she plopped down. Her proximity made him nervous, and though he didn’t want her to leave, he didn’t exactly want her so close—only a few feet away—with the curtain sealing them off from others. It made his heart thunder wildly in his chest, his thoughts run rampant. With the others around, he found it easier to act indifferent; hell, he wouldn’t be able to handle the ridicule if they knew how desperately he craved her, how often she occupied his thoughts, so he played it safe and kept it cool. But when they were alone—and that had started to happen more and more frequently—he felt sure she could read his thoughts, hear his heartbeat running fast. It was dangerous to have her so close. And yet so far, he reminded himself.

“Did you see our tree?” she asked, merriment on her face. “The kids went crazy when they saw the decorations Michonne and Glenn brought out. They almost knocked it over a few times, all of them trying to decorate at once.”

He didn’t trust himself to speak without sounding harsher than necessary, so he harrumphed in response, giving a small nod, and started eating the turkey jerky.

“Carl wanted to sing, so he and Beth led everyone in some songs, but when Carl started Jingle Bells with ‘Jingle bells, Batman smells,’ Rick called it quits.”

He granted her an amused look but otherwise remained quiet and continued munching.

You’re an idiot, he scolded himself. She’s been running miles around that race track in your mind for hours. Now she’s here in front of you, no one else around, and you clam up like you got lockjaw.

He glanced up at her and saw that his silence had subdued her mood.

Why can’t you act halfway decent?

“Hershel read the Christmas story,” she continued with a bit less enthusiasm. “And we let the kids open their gifts…mainly books from the library, and the chalk and the puzzles you brought back the other day.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Was nothin’.” Her intense stare made him want to fidget, but he willed himself to refrain.

“It meant the world to the kids. It’s not gonna be often…if ever…that we get to open gifts again,” she explained softly. “It lifted everyone’s spirits.”

He gave a small nod and started gnawing on the inside of his lip, unsure how to handle her praise. He felt comfortable in front of walkers and with weapons, but kind words from this slip of a woman with the bright blue eyes and he melted, powerless, like snow in the sun. Slowly, ever so slowly, she was thawing him out.

Her talk of gifts reminded him of the one in his pocket. He’d meant to wrap it, to wait until she was on guard duty and leave it on her bed or perhaps tuck it into her hands before he set out on the next scheduled run, but something in this moment prodded him.  Give it to her…now or never, he told himself. Just ‘cause you’re an ass doesn’t mean you gotta keep bein’ one.

Setting his snacks aside and avoiding her gaze, he fumbled around with his jacket, trying to find the pocket with her gift in it. “I, uh…” He cleared his throat. “I got somethin’ for you. For Christmas.” He withdrew a fisted hand from his jacket. “Didn’t….get a chance to wrap it.”

He raised his eyes to see her staring at him in wonder. “Ain’t much,” he mumbled, holding his hand out towards her.

She cupped her hands together beneath his, and he watched her as he placed the gift into her hands. A panoply of expressions crossed her face: surprise, happiness, excitement, anticipation. Holding the jewelry in one hand, she picked up one of the pieces with the other. “Oh, Daryl,” she breathed.

The large stud earrings had creamy-white pearlescent petals with a tiny golden center, and silver rimmed the edges, giving them a regal appearance.

“Cherokee rose. I just thought…well…it’s—”

He stopped stuttering when she abruptly moved from the chair and sat down next to him, but before he could speak again she leaned toward him and slipped her arms around his neck.

“Thank you,” she whispered near his ear, hugging him close.

He froze in place, her touch burning his skin, her scent, light and floral, overpowering his senses, her breath sending shivers down his spine. His heart staccatoed against his ribcage, and he felt certain they could hear it in the next cell block.

She was going to kill him long before he’d ever gather the courage to tell her how he felt  

He slid his arms around her, tentatively holding her like he’d done not so long ago. That hug—borne out of relief and desperation, he knew—had surprised him, but since it’d been a matter of life and death, he understood it. This…this felt entirely different. Full of gratitude, happiness, and a sort of intimacy he couldn’t help but both crave and fear.

“They’re beautiful,” she enthused as she withdrew, looking at the earrings in her hand like they were diamonds. “Cherokee roses…” She met his gaze, and for a moment he thought she might cry. “Thank you.”

“You remembered,” he murmured.

“I could never forget. It was the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me. And…I saw the one out on the grave…” she admitted quietly.

He felt the twitch of his eye, his tell of discomfort when someone got too close, and looked away. “Thought you were gone.”

He heard the sadness in his tone, felt his heart clench at the memory of almost losing her. Of finding her. Of bringing her back to the group and having her with him, with them, again.

She covered his hand with one of her own. “I know,” she whispered.

“Didn’t know how else…to pay my respects. Didn’t know how else to say goodbye. I was so angry that we lost…  We went lookin’ for you…after we found T, found Lori. I didn’t want you to…be one of them or, or stay one of them. I couldn’t…it’d already been a few days and I couldn’t leave you like that.”

He saw the forgotten scarf on the ground, the knife she’d used to defend herself. Recalled how he’d jammed that knife over and over again into the floor, the wall, hoping to release some of emotions threatening to spill over. He hadn’t meant to tell her how he’d discovered her hiding place, but now that he’d started he couldn’t stop.

“I found a walker with your knife in its neck, and…I hated the thought of you down there by yourself, tryin’ to find a way out, fightin’ them things by yourself.” He shook his head, his eyes full of fire and hurt and miles away. “I made them leave me down there….in the tombs. I…after losing T and Lori, with Rick head-sick, and me tryin’ to keep everyone alive and make sure Asskicker had food, I…I couldn’t take it anymore. I made them leave me alone. Wallowin’ like a damn fool when they all needed me… I worked myself up to be able to…to put you down if I had to. We promised, and I would have, but…”

“But you found me. You brought me back.” Carol ducked her head trying to meet his gaze, and he finally met her eyes, coming back to the present. “Thank you…for saving me. For finding me.” She reached up and brushed his hair away from his eyes. “For the Cherokee roses that’ve given me strength and hope. And now I get to keep them…keep you…with me always.”

His heart seized in his chest, and he thought he might’ve stopped breathing for a moment. He stared at her, her words washing over him like a healing balm. She couldn’t mean what she’d said…could she? He’d used the rose to lend her hope when she’d lost it; now she was using it to bind them together. How she could do that, could turn the moment from maudlin to miraculous in a few heartbeats, left him speechless.

He cleared his throat, breaking the tension that crackled in the air, and he felt time snap back into place.

She held his gaze as she put the earrings on. “I love them,” she declared. She turned her head from side to side, showcasing them. “How do they look?”

He couldn’t help staring. In the dim light of his lamp, she looked soft and inviting, her smile blazing brightly at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “They’re perfect,” he breathed.

Carol covered his hand with one of hers. “Thank you,” she said softly, her words heavy. “I have something for you too.”

He furrowed his brow as she moved to her jacket and rifled through its folds. She glanced at him once conspiratorially before withdrawing a package wrapped crudely in soft leather and tied with a string. “Here.” She proffered the package to him, returning to her seat next to him on the bed.

Daryl swallowed hard, entirely unprepared for this exchange. It’d taken all of his willpower to give the earrings to her. But to know she’d thought of him too, had prepared and wrapped a gift, and had it in her pocket as she’d set out to find him tonight meant he’d been right: he was an ass for avoiding their first Christmas.

He untied the string and peeled back the cloth to reveal a coiled piece of leather. “What is it?” he murmured as he unwound it. The leather strap had a familiar-looking connecting piece at each end, and he realized he held a new, better version of a crossbow sling.

“I know you said yours was giving out,” Carol explained. “And I want to make sure you stay safe.”

“How did you…?” He trailed off in wonder, noting “D I X O N” emblazoned across the middle of the strap.

“That guy, Greg…? He’s a leather craftsmen. When I found out, I asked him to help me. We’ve been working on it for a few weeks; just finished today. I wanted to give you something nice. You do so much for us, for all of us, I wanted to do a little something special for you.”

He stared at the sling, unable to meet her gaze, his mind spinning. Useful, practical, and something she’d come up with on her own…she’d helped handcraft a personalized gift for him? ‘I want to make sure you stay safe,’ she’d said, but walkers were the least of his worries. She’d disarmed him with gentle words, kind eyes, sweet smiles, and tender touches. He’d fallen prey to her willful spirit, her fierce loyalty, her fathomless heart. She’d captured him as a wounded animal, angry, biting, bitter, and full of scorn, and softly, gently, methodically wooed him to her. And he didn’t care that he was her prisoner.

“Carol…”

The jealousy he’d felt as he’d watched her with Greg the past few weeks turned into embarrassment, and he thanked the heavens she couldn’t read his thoughts. He felt sheepish knowing she’d spent time with Greg because she’d been working on a gift for him. He really was an ass.

“This is…perfect.” He finally raised his head to meet her eyes, and as relief washed over her face, he realized how long he’d sat silent.

“I’m glad you like it. Should be the same length as the original; hopefully it fits right.”

He gazed at her, in awe of the compassionate, fiery, powerful force of nature before him. “Thank you.” He imbued the words with all of the sentiments he didn’t know how to voice yet.

Carol’s face broke into an understanding smile. “Merry Christmas, Daryl.”

He nodded. “Merry Christmas.”

[glenngaylord]

LITTLE MS. SUNSHINE - My Review of BATTLE OF THE SEXES (4 Stars)

I love the films of Hal Ashby, particularly his 1970s stretch which included HAROLD AND MAUDE, BEING THERE, SHAMPOO, COMING HOME, THE LAST DETAIL, and BOUND FOR GLORY.  His best work felt so natural, yet you never thought you were watching a documentary.  There was real art in his frames.  I especially loved the sun-dappled quality of his images, how you believed his characters lived in their spaces.  

Valerie Faris and Jonathan Dayton, in only their third feature (!) since 2006’s LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE, clearly have a love for Hal Ashby, and they expertly latch onto his aesthetic for the altogether wonderful, exhilarating BATTLE OF THE SEXES, one of my favorite movies of the year.  Screenwriter Simon Beaufoy (SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE) juggles a lot of balls in the air here and nearly sticks all of the landings.   Set during the infamous 1973 tennis match between Billie Jean King and Bobby Riggs, this goofy stunt of a game would somehow turn out to be a watershed moment in the women’s equality movement, and definitely one which paved the way for such highly paid and decorated stars as Serena Williams.  

Of course, when you’re a hero, you don’t always recognize it right away.  You’re just living your life. That’s when we meet a late 20s King (Emma Stone), who, as the world’s top tennis champion,  gets interrupted at a function by her manager Gladys (a hilarious Sarah Silverman), who informs her that their current tennis tournament will yield the women players a small fraction of what the men get paid.  In full activist stance, she takes her grievances to the head of the tennis commission (a feisty Bill Pullman), but he stands behind his sexist policies.  In turn, Gladys and King break off from his association and start their own tournament.  

Simultaneously, we meet Riggs (Steve Carell), former tennis champion, who at 55 has been reduced to working a dead end job with his father-in-law while hiding a secret gambling life from his wealthy wife (an assured Elizabeth Shue - welcome back!!).  A man who lives for the hustle and a return to his glory days, Riggs zeroes in on King and challenges her to an exhibition match to prove that men are superior to women.  What followed, as tacky and as silly as it could be, changed the paradigm.  Ok, not completely.  Sexism still rules and this film feels so current considering how an immensely qualified woman was treated by a boorish, racist, sexist pig in a certain high profile election.  Regardless, Billy Jean King made history.

BATTLE OF THE SEXES takes its time getting to that match, like any good sports movie should, and delves into King and Riggs’ lives.  On the surface, King was happily married to her handsome husband Larry (Austin Stowell in a beautifully understated performance), but a chance meeting with Marilyn (Andrea Riseborough, warm and perfect), a hairdresser, awakens sexual feelings in her, leading to a sweet, quiet affair.  With so much at stake personally and career-wise, King feels the need to keep this relationship in the closet.  Stone masterfully navigates the complexities of King’s circumstances while keeping her bold, brash, fearless and interesting despite the daunting situations.  She fully inhabits King’s butch characteristics and I couldn’t help but be reminded of Jodie Foster.  Stone nails this role.  It’s a career best so far in her still young career and there’s no doubt she’ll get an Oscar nomination again this year for her stellar work.  

Carell is equally mesmerizing and much more complex than the surface level buffoon he plays.  He shares a beauty of a scene with Shue that makes you fall in love with this clown and the very perceptive wife who has had to put up with his nonsense.  Carell’s funny-sad performance features comic highs such as his wonder of a speech at a Gambler’s Anonymous meeting and a beautifully shot scene at an escalator with his disapproving adult son, well-played by Lewis Pullman, Bill’s son.  

In fact, this is one gorgeously shot movie.  Linus Sandgren, who won the Oscar last year for LA LA LAND, also clearly worships at the altar of Hal Ashby.  The film may be set in the 70s, but it’s not presenting itself in a campy manner.  You feel the rhythms of hearts racing, every solar flare feels evocative of a time and place, especially in a great driving scene with Billie Jean and Marilyn, as their hair flies around with each gust of wind.  Elton John’s “Rocket Man” plays on the radio, which, in the context of this week, gives it an odd meaning, but it works so well to evoke budding love and yearning in this moment.  It’s one of those classic scenes along the lines of another Elton John moment, when everyone sings along to “Tiny Dancer” on that bus in ALMOST FAMOUS.  A seduction scene in a disco as “Crimson And Clover” plays on the soundtrack has a trippy, woozy quality.  I loved the use of an obscure Bach-inspired instrumental track called “Joy”, a long-forgotten early 70s hit and the images that accompany it.  The film is shot with such energy.  It has spirit.  It’s alive.  

Special mention must also go to Mary Zophres’ period perfect costumes and especially Judy Becker’s production design.  She’s had practice with this era by way of AMERICAN HUSTLE, but I wanted to bow down to her simply for the coin-operated mini-TVs at the airport.  We’ve come a long way baby!

The fact that BATTLE OF THE SEXES is a winning sports movie coupled with an astute look at sexuality and sexism, all told with a deceptively simple breeziness, adds up to one highly entertaining movie.  Yes, it’s populist entertainment, but you feel for these people.  Additionally, it has an incredible supporting cast.  In addition to those I’ve mentioned, I loved Natalie Morales (PARKS AND RECREATION) as Rosie Casals, a wisecracking fellow tennis player who ends up playing a major part in the big match…complete with well-realized FORREST GUMP-like trick photography.  Fred Armisen is distracting and slightly wasted in a thankless role as Riggs’ vitamin supplier, but it’s not a big deal.  

Where the film goes very wrong is with Alan Cumming as the outfit designer for the women’s tour.  Cumming plays a real life designer/tennis pro named Ted Tinling, who came across much more plain spoken than the BOYS IN THE BAND-level caricature Cumming brings to the role.  It’s not that  he’s bad.  He’s actually commanding and memorable, but it feels a little unreal given the naturalness of everyone else’s performances in the film. Cumming also gets saddled with a terrible line towards the end of the film that almost sinks the whole soufflé.  It’s horribly on the nose and hokey, especially considering it follows an extremely strong, wrenching scene of King alone in a locker room.  Perhaps test audiences wanted a moment of catharsis for Billie Jean’s sexual struggles, but the reality, for me, proves far more interesting than the fantasy of a dumb summation line.  

Luckily, it cannot spoil the good will this movie has in droves.  Billie Jean King and Bobby Riggs changed the world, and they did so with all the bravery and tackiness and show biz ridiculousness they could muster.  King may have improvised her way through this part of her life, but the impact of her deeds still matters today.  This joyous, wonderful film turns the silly into the sublime.  

[babslou-blog]

A rarity - Part 2 - Carl Grimes Imagine

Years passed, people changed. You didn't alter a lot, though, despite the progress the world made. You had a steady home, living with Rick and Michonne. Even if blood didn't connect you, they watched over you as if you were their daughter. The adults wanted to have a child of their own, but luck wasn't with them. They still had you, Judith and Carl. Your face almost cringes at the mention of him.

Unlike everybody else, Carl changed a lot, going from worse to the worst. Unfortunately, it appeared that Enid was a very bad influence for him. His parents try to talk to him, but he just won't listen. His demeanor has changed greatly, going from that gentle-hearted boy, to a rude ‘bad boy’ with no manners, whatsoever. His stance toward you has changed as well. He makes fun of you, bothers you and speaks foul words, as if you were rubbish. You don't understand. You are supposed to be ‘siblings’, after all. You are supposed to be family.

Carl only has a soft spot for Judith, you think. Oh, and Enid, of course. Enid is regularly wrapped around him like a scarf, numbing his stained mind with her ideas and vile notions. At first you thought that she could try and help Carl, but she only made him worse. Carl is out of control. You care about the boy, unkindness or not. You sometimes ponder if he even loves you, just a little. If he even cares that you are alive. It breaks your heart to have him talk to you the way he does. Once in a while, though, you can see the softness in him. Carl is not a bad person, he is just allured.

 You press your hand against the wall, frowning as you look at the young man.

“You're going out, again?” you question numbly, gazing down at the floor when he glowers at you. You can't stand to see his seething eye again.

“I'm going with Enid. The food had better be ready when I come back.” grunts Carl, fixing the collar of his shirt and checking himself in the mirror. You sigh, mustering all your courage as you venture to raise your voice again.

“But, the chores are many Carl; I can't do them on my own.. Why do you go with her anyway?” You ask, now evidently irked by his behavior. “She doesn't love you. She just wants you because you have sex with her. She is fucking five other guys behind your back; wake up!” You hear yourself cry out the words, but don't feel the pain in your sore throat as you yell.

“Shut your fucking mouth!” You flinch and your eyes flicker as Carl's throaty voice booms within your mind, your breath shaky as you watch him stride angrily toward you. His brows muster together, his face rough and scary as he gnashes his teeth. “You don't know anything about her. You're just saying this bullshit because she loves me and you have no one!”

“You don't even know what love is!” You wheeze, putting your hands on his chest and shoving him away from you. Your heart shrivels painfully within your chest, and you can feel acid poured in your stomach. “You don't know how it is to love someone..Love is not shaking your ass and showing your boobs here and there! Love is actually having someone by your side, someone who will care and feel for you..” Your voice dies out as Carl begins mimicking you, mocking your attempts of knocking some sense into him.

“Blah, blah... Don't you have anything else to do? You're just jealous of her. You will never be her, so stop trying!” says Carl with a laugh, eyeing you over. A lump catches in your throat, and you look up at his face, your eyes sad and glazed over. Your fists clench, and so does your heart.

“Why..why did you have to end up like this, Carl...?” Carl doesn't answer. He doesn't show emotion as he hears the words. He just stares, his face blank and drained. You can see his jaw lock and his neck crane, his fingers curled up into fists.

“Well, too fucking bad. This is me, now, whether you like it or not.” he seethes lowly, turning his broad back to you and heading for the door.

“No, Carl, this isn't you... This is not you!” You try desperately, but his sharp voice interjects you, so bitter that vinegar seems like a syrup-coated apple compared to it.

“You don't know me. I'm done talking.” Your shoulders jerk as he slams the door behind him, but the heavy aura remains thick and dense around you. Your heart is in pain, your eyes trembling with tears as you shake your head. You wipe your blushing cheeks, sniffling a little as you turn back to walk to Judith's room. But, when you turn around, you are surprised to find the little girl standing there, her head tilted sideways as she looks at you.

“Y/n, why are you sad..?” quires Judith softly as she looks up at you. You force a smile, kneeling down and stroking the four-year-old's golden locks.

“I'm not sad, Judy..” You gently cup the child's rosy, plump cheeks, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Judith giggles a little, watching you with big, blue eyes as you part your lips and talk. “Your brother's just being a douchebag again.”

Your bones tremble and you nervously bite your lip, holding the small, glass statue of a swan within your palms. It was a delicate, glistening thing you found on a run the other day, and decided to keep it. You overheard Rick and Michonne talking, saying that Carl's birthday was nearing. The boy had been in a bad mood for the past days, and you figured that maybe a gift would make him feel a little better. You were still anxious, wondering whether he would accept it or not.

You quietly walk toward his room, your heart skipping a beat as you stand shakily before the bedroom's door. You bring your knuckles to the fraying timber, knocking softly in order to not disturb him. You wait for a few seconds, and can hear fumbling from inside. Carl opens the door with his usual, moody frown, standing before you half-naked. He's stripped to the waist, and his hair is a tousled mess. Looking closely, you can see that Enid is on his bed, her leg dangling of the mattress as she waits for him to come back.

“Don't yell at me; I just need a moment of your time..” Carl raises his eyebrow at you, nodding his head as if he's telling you to keep talking. “I won't bother you any further, so.. here.” You bite your lower lip, reddening it as you gently extend your arms and offer the glimmering present. Carl seems confused as he takes the glass swan from you and inspects it within his hand. “Your birthday is coming up and I'm going to be away then.. so I took this for you. I'll.. go now.”

“What is that?” You hear Enid's bothered voice as she peers over Carl's shoulder, taking the small statue from him. “Aw... You took him a birthday present? How sweet...” The older girl raises her brow, her cold eyes squinting.

“But, he doesn't need your pitiful gifts. He already has me.”

Enid laughs and snaps her arm sharply, letting go of the fragile present and letting it smash against the floor. Your lips part a little as you see the shiny shards scatter across the floor, broken, just like your heart. You actually feel like you are going to cry. You almost risked your life for that.. and now she just comes and destroys it?!

“Why did you do that?!” You clamor weakly, your shoulders dropping as you gaze down at the detached glass.

“As I said; Carl already has me. He doesn't need your pathetic attempts. Now, fuck off, you were interrupting something good..”

Your eyes flare vividly, a metal wire wrapping around your skull as your sadness slowly fades and is replaced by a throbbing flame of rage and clear anger. The feeling is pulsing within your chest, swimming through your veins and intoxicating your brain. Enid's sly grin slowly faints and she takes refuge behind Carl's back, thinking that under his “protection”, she will avoid your evident, upcoming burst.

You are not frightened by Carl. You simply push at his shoulder and, to your surprise, he lets you pass, a little startled himself. Enid's light eyes widen and the older girl shouts and you seize her by the hair, your nails sinking into her head and sending her tumbling sideways. Before she can heave her head and before Carl can even grab you, your arm ascends, hissing audibly through the air.

Enid almost falls bodily, banging her left knee against the floor as she stares up at you with a look that expresses mostly surprise and fright rather than anger for revenge. She holds her numb cheek, which is glowing pink and is paralyzed with pain by your potent, sudden smack. You know that if it were just the two of you, she would have risen and tried to fight you, but Carl is here. Enid cries out and runs toward her boyfriend, blabbering and squinting her eyes so it looks like she is crying. She enfolds the boy tightly, mewling against his neck. She wants him to yell at you, or insult you.

But, Carl doesn't do any of that, to you great surprise. The boy's look is one of pure confusion and a bit of seriousness as he gazes at you; as if you were two enemies trading glances from opposing battlefields. Your forehead is sweaty and your breath unsteady as your eyes lock for a brief moment. In his blue eye is something you can observe, something familiar, yet you can't quite put your finger on it.

You straighten your blouse by the collar, not noticing as Carl's gaze flickers to your exposed collarbones and peers at the nude skin. His eye trails up the smooth tufts of your unkempt hair, inspects your blushing lips and then meets with your swarming orbs. You huff as you stride past the young man, sending him one last, lethal look as you return to the hallway, your hips swaying pleasantly as you head for your room.

“Have fun with your girlfriend.”

Carl's pretty eye opens and the bluish moonlight lathers his youthful face as he lazily gazes toward the ceiling. The silence around him is paining him, making his chest throb. He had told Enid to leave, and now he is resting in his warm covers; covers that seem so empty and lonely. He wishes he could manage the courage to come to your room and apologize; for everything's he done, for all the pain he's caused you. He simply cannot find the strength within him.

“This is not you!”

“Why..why did you have to end up like this, Carl...?”

The tired boy shakes his head sadly, blowing out a heavy exhale as he recalls your words. He rolls over on the mattress, nuzzling his pillow as he curls up underneath the wooly blanket. A lone tear crosses the threshold of his eye, slowly cascading down his temple and dampening the cushion beneath his head. Goosebumps buss his milky skin once he remembers the kiss of your lips, years ago. Your smile is enough to make his heart flutter, your presence enough to make him feel dazed and hot. The relationship you two once had together was now destroyed, due to his stupidity. Why had he become this way? That's what he asked himself every night, and his beautiful face was stained with tears as he realized; you would never to turn and look at a guy like him.

Carl is just .. tired. He just wants a big, comforting embrace to hold him, and a sturdy shoulder to cry upon. He has so much crammed within him. His soul is tortured and bruised, not used to the kind of thing you call ‘love’. His heart feels empty and gaping, his mind numb with pain and pent-up anger. He wants to cry, scream, fall to his knees and sob his heart out, break everything standing in the room locking him inside.

So ugly, so vile. Nobody would love somebody like me.

[rathertoofondofbooks]

Today I wanted to share a selection of Christmas books that I’ve read and reviewed in recent years.

  If you’re running short on time and want to fab festive read then I can recommend the following novellas and short stories:

The Christmas Spirit by Susan Buchanan

This is a lovely novella set in the four weeks running up to Christmas. It is magical and sweet and really makes you feel festive! My review is here.

Merry Mistletoe by Emma Davies

This is another beautiful novella set in the weeks running up to Christmas. It’s such a stunning book that I found immensely comforting and it’s a story that has really stayed with me. My review is here.

  Christmas Spirit by Nicola May

Christmas Spirit is a beautiful, romantic and heart-warming novella and I highly recommend you grab a copy to read over Christmas! My review is here.

The Boy Under the Mistletoe by Katey Lovell

If you’re really, really short on time but want a cute Christmas read then this is the story for you. It’s part of the Meet Cute series and it will warm your heart. It’s the perfect read to escape into during a coffee break! My review is here.

  If you have time to read a novel (or two or three…) over the festive period then I recommend all the following books:

One Wish in Manhattan by Mandy Baggot

This is a gorgeous novel set in New York in the run up to Christmas. It has echoes of A Christmas Carol running through it and it’s a wonderful festive novel. My review is here.

How To Stuff Up Christmas by Rosie Blake

This is such a fun read that is perfect to read around Christmas-time. It is full of friendships and romance and recipes (some more successful than others!)! My review is here.

Christmas Wishes and Mistletoe Kisses by Jenny Hale

This is a lovely romantic novel set in the lead up to Christmas. Interior designer Abby gets a job decorating Nick’s family home and things go from there. It’s really Christmassy and I very much enjoyed it. This has now been made into a film and I loved that too! My review is here.

Every Time A Bell Rings by Carmel Harrington

This is a a really gorgeous novel based on the ideas from It’s A Wonderful Life and I adored it. It really encapsulates so much of what Christmas is and the emotions it brings up. I love this book! My review is here.

The Mince Pie Mix-Up by Jennifer Joyce

This is such a brilliant Christmas novel. A married couple, Judy and Calvin, each feels that the other has the easier time of it so wish to switch lives in the run up to Christmas. One morning they wake up in each other’s bodies and fun ensues as they try to navigate their new roles! This is a really fun festive novel and I really want to re-read it! My review is here.

Snowy Nights at the Lonely Hearts Hotel by Karen King

This is such a lovely festive novel that really does capture Christmas spirit. It is one that I loved last year and I plan on reading it again in the years to come. My review is here.

What Happens At Christmas by T. A. Williams

This novel has everything you could possibly want in a Christmas story! It’s set at Christmas, it’s in a gorgeous location, it’s heart-breaking but more so it’s heart-warming, it has romance, it has crackly log fires, and it has snow! My review is here.

Winter’s Fairytale by Maxine Morrey

This novel won’t fail to give you that warm, fuzzy feeling. It’s just a gorgeous Christmas novel that will give you butterflies and will warm your heart. My review is here.

Christmas Camp by Karen Schaler

Christmas Camp is a really festive, feel-good novel and I highly recommend it. This is going on my list of books that I’ll read again in future at this time of year! My review is here.

Christmas at Lilac Cottage by Holly Martin

I highly recommend this book, it’s wonderful. It’s one of those books that you can curl up with on a cold day and just escape, and when you’ve finished reading you feel all content and warm and smiley. My review is here.

Snowflakes on Silver Cove by Holly Martin

This is a very funny and highly entertaining novel that will have you laughing out loud from the very first page! It’s also full of Christmas romance and just so gorgeous – you will not be able to put this book down! My review is here.

Snowday by B. R. Maycock

Snowday is a really engaging, fun read that shows the reality of life but with a fab dose of humour too. It’s such a gorgeous, wintery read and I absolutely loved it! I highly recommend adding this to your festive reading lists. My review is here.

The Snowman by Michael Morpurgo

This is such a lovely, magical book and I would have loved to have had this when I was a child. It’s always a bit of a worry when someone writes a variant of an old favourite but Morpurgo has been so respectful of the original story and this stands alongside it as an extra Snowman story that is just as wonderful. A gorgeous, magical and nostalgic read! My review is here.

And finally here are reviews of four of my favourite Christmas reads from this year.

One Week ‘Til Christmas by Belinda Missen

One Week ‘Til Christmas is a gorgeous, romantic read that will really get you in the festive spirit! I adored this book and I will definitely re-read it over Christmases to come. My review is here.

The Christmas Wish List by Heidi Swain

The Christmas Wish List is a very special festive book, one that has stolen a piece of my heart. It is firmly going on my shelf of treasured Christmas books that I try to read every year. I highly recommend this one – it’s truly gorgeous! My review is here.

One Christmas Night by Hayley Webster

This book has sadness and difficult times but it’s still the most gorgeous and festive novel. It’s full of forgiveness and finding solace, it’s about making new memories and finding ways to move on while still remembering what came before. It really does capture the spirit of Christmas and it really is the most beautiful book! I’ll definitely be re-reading it over Christmases to come! I can’t recommend it highly enough! My review is here.

The Other Side of Christmas by Sharon Booth

The Other Side of Christmas really is such a gorgeous festive read, it is the perfect length for the story being told and it leaves you feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. My review is here.

  Christmas Book Recommendations! Today I wanted to share a selection of Christmas books that I've read and reviewed in recent years.