#RV Parking near me

[jackstruck77]

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[kilsythcamping]

Owen Sound hiking trails

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[jamesvince9898]

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[ichorai]

sorry ; daryl dixon.

track three of BROKEN MACHINE.

pairing ; daryl dixon x doctor!reader (gender neutral pronouns)

synopsis ; you were on your knees, and daryl was too. he wouldn’t look at you—he couldn’t—terrified that negan would bring that bat down on your head if he noticed.

words ; 7.9k

themes ; heavy angst, mild action, doctor au

warnings / includes ; death and violence, negan at his worst, vulgar language, guns/weapons, descriptions of injury/blood, mentions of maggie's pregnancy, negan goes on long ass monologues, poor rick is going Through it, the walking dead s6-7 spoilers (fic starts right at the season six finale), mild sexual dialogue from negan

main masterlist.

Maggie hummed with discontent when you pressed a cold, damp cloth to her forehead. There was a pallid color to her skin, and her temperature was beginning to rise, despite her violent shivers beneath the blanket. The inconsistent, rocking motions of the RV weren’t doing her any favors, either. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you to Hilltop real soon,” you said, feeling mildly guilty that you couldn’t help her more, despite being a doctor yourself. Alexandria was completely out of medical supplies and this was urgent—if Maggie didn’t get help soon… you’d never be able to forgive yourself if something bad were to happen to her or the baby. “Hang on for me, okay?”

The brunette slanted her lips in a tired smile, eyelids heavy. 

Rick knelt down beside you, speaking in a low, comforting tone. “We’re gonna get there. Once we get the medicine from Hilltop, Y/N will fix you right up.”

A small sigh fell from her pale, trembling lips. A thin film of tears warbled over her eyes. She was terrified. 

“Oh, Maggie,” you murmured, gently pulling away the short strands of hair sticking to her face. 

“How do you know?” muttered your friend, gaze trained on the ex-cop. 

“Everything we’ve done… we've done it together. We got here together and we’re still here. Things have happened, but it’s always worked out for us, ‘cause it’s always been all of us. That’s how I know. As long as it’s all of us helpin’ you, we can do it.”

A hot tear meandered down Maggie’s cheek. You nodded gratefully at Rick—he’d always had a way with words that you’d never really gotten a grasp of. 

The next hour passed by slowly. You switched between cooling her head, and helping her drink some water, sometimes just holding her hand and telling her that everything was going to be fine. To take her mind off the pain, she’d asked you to tell her about how you and Daryl met, all those years ago long before the dead began to walk. 

“I’m glad Daryl’s not here right now, because he always tells the story differently than I do. Well, how I remember it, he and his dick brother used to come to a small convenience store near their trailer park. That’s where I worked. I was around… nineteen at the time? Almost twenty. I was just working a couple jobs on the side to pay off my growing student debt. Daryl was twenty-three, almost twenty-four. Merle tried to cozy up to me—and I didn’t have any of that. I told him to fuck right off. And later that night, just as I was to close up, Daryl came by and apologized on his brother’s behalf. He was real sweet, so I—”

“What the bitch?” barked Abraham from the driver’s seat, effectively cutting your story short and rolling the RV to a grueling halt. 

“What?” asked Rick, standing up to look out the window. You followed suit, eyes widening upon the sight. 

More than half a dozen Saviors blocking the road with three of their cars—and all of them holding large guns. A lump formed in your throat, and you cast your worried gaze to Rick.

“We goin’ through?” asked Abraham, jaw set. 

Rick gnashed his jaw together in thought. “No,” he said. “We’ll talk to them. C’mon. Y/N, you stay here, watch over Maggie.”

Teeth worrying into your bottom lip, you nodded, stepping to the side to let the rest of them file out of the RV, their own loaded guns at the ready. 

From inside, you couldn’t hear what the Saviors were saying, but from the smug expression of the one in the center with a hideous pornstache, you knew it couldn’t be anything pleasant for your group. 

Three minutes later, they came back in, all looking a bit disgruntled. Rick, most of all.

“What’s going on?” you asked Carl, placing a hand on his forearm. 

The young man that you were so fond of grimaced, shaking his head and lowering his voice to a whisper so that Maggie couldn’t overhear. “They won’t let us through. Want half our stuff.”

Your breath hitched. At this rate, you didn’t know how long Maggie could last without the proper care and medicine. And Alexandria was running low on supplies as it is—taking away half of everything would put the community in a pretty dire situation.

“Alright, thanks kid,” you told him, trying your absolute best not to cry from frustration, your nose burning with the effort. 

The truck began to pull further away from the Saviors, until they were only but little dots against the horizon. 

“Logrun Road’s a straight shot,” said Eugene, repeatedly tapping his finger against the map spread out across the RV’s pull-out table. 

Next to you, Sasha shook her head. “We want visibility.”

You pursed your lips, craning your neck to scan the small, faded texts of the map. “Can we go down Shelton?”

Eugene hummed in agreement, drawling out in his thick Southern accent, “Golf course, country clubs, sloping terrain—no bum rush from the bogeymen. We’d see ‘em from a good piece. It is a longer trip by a third but we’d get the scenic safety of clear-cut dingles and glens.”

Both you and Sasha stared at him blankly. 

“You’re being serious, right?” asked Sasha.

“As coronary thrombosis,” replied the man across from you, stony-faced. Besides, Eugene was never one to joke around.

Sasha rounded her gaze to you expectantly, waiting for you to explain in normal terms. “He’s serious,” you said. “It’s a longer route, but it’ll be well-sheltered and hopefully keep us hidden from the Saviors. I’ll try to keep Maggie steady until then.”

The two nodded at you, and you pushed away from the table, heading further back into the RV where Maggie and Rick were. She was pale and clammy, but still had enough energy to talk to you, so you took that as a good sign. 

Not even ten minutes later, while you were taking measurements of her blood pressure and body temperature, the vehicle came to another rumbling halt. 

“Bitch nuts,” cursed Abraham, loudly for both you and Rick to hear. 

The Saviors were blocking the road. Again.

You could feel panic seize about your chest, constricting your lungs. The situation wasn’t looking good for Maggie, not one bit—but you couldn’t give up hope. Not now, when she needed you the most. You blew out a shaky breath, absentmindedly wishing Daryl was here with you to give you some comfort of mind.

“We making our stand?” asked Sasha, staring out of the window, where more than a dozen saviors were lined up. 

Carl, ever the fiery one, spat out, “Yeah. We end this.”

The blue of his father’s eyes flashed dangerously. “No. Not now. It’s too dangerous for Maggie. They’ve been waiting—they’re ready. We ain’t. With one of us behind the wheel, and Y/N with Maggie, that’d be five on sixteen. We’re gonna play it our way. How we want it.”

Reluctant, Carl nodded. 

Slowly, the RV started backing away. Three successive, warning gunshots were fired into the air. You could feel a sick, twisted rage curl up within your stomach. 

If Maggie died on your watch—her blood would be on the hands of the Saviors.

You fumbled for another map pinned up on the cork board, eyes roaming over the roads, desperate for another available route. Could they possibly have you surrounded? No—the woods were vast, and the roads were winding—there were so many paths left to take to Hilltop. The Saviors simply wouldn’t have the numbers to stop you.

Wouldn’t they?

The RV came to another stop. This time, there were no Saviors blocking the road, but instead, a line of chained-up walkers. Not wanting to risk damaging the RV by driving through them, the rest of the group filed out to check if the coast was clear. You told Maggie you’d be right back, before hopping out of the RV, lingering by the doorway to narrow your gaze at the restrained walkers.

“That’s Michonne’s,” breathed out Carl, his single eye widening. A lock of her hair was stapled against the center walker’s forehead. 

Horror, as black as tar itself, seeped into your chest when you glanced over to the next snarling form, just to see two of Daryl’s arrows embedded into its decaying stomach. Daryl always retrieved his arrows. Which meant… something had happened to him.

“That’s Daryl’s,” you said, loud enough for Rick to hear. “Oh, no, Rick… they did this on purpose. They knew we were coming this way—!”

Just as Rick was about to cleave his axe into the walker’s skull, ricocheting gunfire crackled into the ground, making the dried leaves flutter up with the sudden force, plumes of dust and smoke flying with each bullet. 

“Get back to the RV! Go!” yelled Rick. You scrambled up the steps and ran to a concerned Maggie, trembling as you carefully hovered over her, in case any bullets pierced through the walls and accidentally hit her. Carl and Sasha began shooting blindly into the woods, having not a clue where all the shots were coming from. Rick surged forward and thrust his axe down onto one of the walker’s rotting arms, effectively leaving a gap open for the RV to drive through. 

The rest of the group rushed inside, and Abraham practically threw himself into the driver’s seat to get the RV moving.

The shots died away after a few minutes. With shallow, inconsistent breaths, you slid off of Maggie, slumping down beside her. She croaked out a question, but it fell upon deaf ears, ringing with static and white noise. A warm tear fell from your burning eyes, and you quickly brushed it away with the back of your palm.

Something happened to Daryl. And it was killing you that you couldn’t help him. That you didn’t even know where he was. 

You looked out the window through a watery film of tears, watching the yellow-green fields pass by in a blur. A quick glance at the lowering sun told you that the group was going to lose daylight soon enough, as well. 

A strange, creaking noise was coming from below the RV. 

“What’s that sound?” said Sasha, worried. 

“Undercarriage could’ve caught a bullet,” replied Eugene. “Could be transmission. Could be nothing.”

Agitated, Rick growled out, “They were firing at our feet. They blocked the road, but they weren’t trying to stop us.”

“They want us in this direction,” you murmured, making his wild gaze swivel to you. You gestured to the map. “Rick, they know we’re coming. They know we wanna go North.”

“Meadows would take us East a piece,” said Eugene, “but we can get back on track on Mayhew.”

It would take too long, you thought. Maggie doesn’t have the strength to carry on anymore.

Shaking her head, Sasha said, “We’re down to a third of a tank—we could top off at the next stop, but it’s risky. We can’t have any refills after that.”

A low moan fell from Maggie’s pale lips as a wave of pain washed over her, moving in and out of a hazy unconsciousness. You were quick to check her temperature, blanching at the fact that she was nearly scalding to the touch. You quickly placed the damp cloth to her skin again, trying your best to keep her temperature down.

“Rick, she’s burning up,” you told him, voice thick with worry. 

It was then that the RV came to another stop. 

This time, there were more saviors—around three dozen, maybe even four.

“Go back,” said Rick, eyes wide and stress evidently painted across his strained features. 

Abraham squared his jaw. “We have nowhere to go back to.”

With a shaky breath, you stroked Maggie’s head, your heart shattering into millions of pieces. “I’m sorry, Maggie,” you said, a sob bubbling in your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry—I wish I could do something, I’m sorry.”

Disoriented and not having heard a word of your apologetic babbling, Maggie croaked out, “Are we there yet?”

More tears slipped down your cheeks. Rick was by your side, placing one hand on your shoulder and the other on Maggie’s arm. You stifled your sobs with your palm, and Rick replied in your stead.

“Yeah, Maggie. We’re—we’re getting there.”

The woman’s eyelids fluttered lethargically. “Were there… I heard shots.”

Rick’s expression softened. “Yeah, the Saviors—they’re gone now. We’re gonna get you there.”

A ghost of a smile tilted the corner of Maggie’s lips up. “I know.”

“You’ll be okay,” you told her, sniffling. “The baby’s going to be okay. This isn’t the end.”

“There’s more,” agreed Rick. “There’s gonna be more, I promise.”

A beat of silence. 

“I believe in you, Rick,” she hoarsely said. Maggie’s gaze slowly moved from Rick to you. “In both of you.”

Maggie was asleep again. You made sure to give her plenty of water and what was left of the antibiotics you had saved—but that was the very last bit of supply you had. There was little else you could do for her other than getting her to Hilltop for the proper medicine and treatment she needed.

“So what’s the play?” asked Abraham. “They’ve cut us off every turn we made.”

“She needs medicine,” said Rick, desperation lacing each word. “She’ll die without it.”

“We only have two plausible routes North from here. They’ve cornered us,” Sasha whispered, gaze trained on the map.

Hopelessness laid uneasy on all of your shoulders. 

“They’re probably waiting for us right now,” said Aaron.

Eugene gritted his teeth. “So, they’re ahead of us. Heck, probably even behind us. But they’re not waiting on us, per se—they’re waitin’ on this rust bucket. They don’t know the moment-to-moment occupancy of said rust bucket. And the sun sets soon.”

“We need to leave now if we want Maggie to make it to Hilltop,” you said, voice trembling with a myriad of guilt, anger, and frustration. “We carry Maggie, and we go on foot. Through the woods. They can’t block us there.”

Eugene took the RV in hopes of tricking the Saviors. Everybody else in the group set off into the woods, taking turns carrying Maggie on the makeshift stretcher, bundled under two layers of blankets. The sun had long set, and the whispering winds were cold this time of year. 

“Just let me walk it,” she rasped, voice scratchy and throat dry. 

“No,” you were quick to reply. “You’re in no condition to walk right now, Maggie. It’s only a few more miles. Just rest up a bit more, okay?”

Though she didn’t look happy, Maggie didn’t protest any further, letting her tired eyes slip shut once more. 

After a couple more minutes, Aaron stepped in to carry one end of the stretcher for you, telling you that you also needed to rest your arms for a second. With a grateful nod, you reluctantly let go, falling into stride with Carl.

“Are you okay?” the young man asked, his hand brushing yours, his nonverbal way of saying that he was here for you if you needed him. “I’m sure Daryl and Michonne are fine. They’re fighters. Maggie’s going to be fine, too.”

You sent him a fond, but tired smile. “Yeah, I hope so, kiddo,” you told him, cuffing his shoulder affectionately. The thought of Daryl out there, probably worried sick for you as well, made your stomach twist into knots. “I really hope so.”

It was at that moment, a shrill whistle sounded out from the darkness of the forest. The group halted in their tracks. One by one, more whistles were added to the ear-splitting melody. It sounded like there were dozens, if not a hundred voices surrounding you. 

“Go!” yelled Rick. “Go!” 

The rest of you broke out in a sprint, and you grabbed Carl’s hand, winding around tree trunks and hopping over overgrown roots, ignoring the stinging scrapes of twisting branches against your face. 

The whistling only continued, growing louder, louder, louder—

Until you came face to face with the source itself. 

Car lights suddenly flashed open, momentarily blinding you. You drew Carl closer to you, instinctively protecting him, but it was no use. They had your group surrounded. Saviors, hundreds of them, gathered around you with leering expressions. All of them were clutching guns.

Raw fear curled around your lungs when you saw Eugene on his knees not too far from you, tears dripping down his face. 

Rick looked destroyed. Devastated. 

You were shaking so hard that your knees began to buckle beneath you. 

Finally, the whistling began to dwindle away. 

From the crowd, stepped out a familiar face—the man with a hideous pornstache that stopped the RV on the initial route. 

“Good,” he called out. He swept his arms out in a faux inviting gesture. “You made it. Welcome to where you’re going—because you ain’t goin’ anywhere ‘til we’re done with you. We’ll take your weapons.”

When he pointed a gun straight at Maggie, you immediately did as he said, pulling out the pistol wedged in your belt. There was a knife inside your boot, but you weren’t too keen on giving that up yet. You tossed your pistol on the ground just as Abraham threw down his rifle. The rest of the group followed suit.

Trembling, Rick spat out, “We can talk about this—”

“We’re done talking,” interrupted Pornstache. “Okay. Get her down, and let’s get you all on your knees. Lots to cover.”

“She can’t,” you snarled, stepping in front of Maggie protectively. “She’s sick, she can’t—”

“Oh, she’ll be far worse than just sick if you don’t get her on her knees,” the man easily rebutted, eyes roaming over your protective form. 

Lips trembling, you turned around, and with Abraham on her other side, you helped Maggie limp off the stretcher and gently set her down on her knees. Your eyes glistened and warbled with unshed tears. Maggie could only shake her head, as if telling you that it wasn’t your fault.

Terrified, Rick glanced around at the rest of the group. He’d failed you. All of you. 

“Gonna need you on your knees, sweetheart,” said Pornstache, slowly dragging the end of his gun up your cheek with a salacious grin.

With a withering glare, you sank down beside Maggie, Rick on your left side, breathing haggard and lips quaking. Sasha and Abraham followed suit. Carl was the last, fists clenched by his sides. 

“Dwight!” whistled Pornstache. “Chop chop! Bring out the others!”

A blonde man with half of his face horribly marred by what looked to be a severe burn injury, stepped forward, yanking open the back of a truck. 

And, to your horror, he dragged out your boyfriend, covered in blood—blood that you could only pray wasn’t his, even though you knew deep down that that was only wishful thinking. Following Daryl was Michonne, Rosita, and Glenn, equally distraught. 

Daryl caught your eye for a brief second, pure terror within his irises. He looked over you to make sure that you were alright, and you did the same with him, a tear slipping down your cheek.

I love you, you mouthed to him. He dipped his head once in understanding, before forcing his gaze away, not wanting to give the Saviors anymore reason to torture either of you. 

“Maggie…?” Glenn painfully rasped once he caught sight of his wife in such a state. He tried to make his way to her, but the Saviors grabbed his arms and forced him down, guns digging harshly into his back. 

“Alright!” exclaimed Pornstache. “We got a full boat! Let’s meet the man, eh?”

He knocked twice on the door to the RV you were in not even an hour ago. 

The door slowly swung open, squeaking on its hinges. 

And out strode a tall man clad in a leather jacket, a bat covered in barbed wire hanging off his shoulder. He took his sweet time making his way towards the group, feet languidly dragging along the gravelly dirt, and a smirk accentuating his smug expression. 

“Pissing our pants yet?” he drawled, voice tapering into a light chuckle as he stepped out into the light, smiling down at your group on your knees. “Boy, do I have a feeling we’re gettin’ close. Mm, yeah—it’s gonna be pee-pee pants city here real soon. Now which one of you pricks is the leader?”

Pornstache pointed at Rick. “It’s this one here.”

The man with the bat grinned wider, before stepping right in front of Rick, who craned his neck to glare up at him. “Hi there. You’re Rick, right? I’m Negan. And I do not appreciate you killin’ my men. Also, when I sent my people to kill your people for killing my people… you killed more of my people. Not cool, man. Not cool. You have… no fuckin’ idea how not cool that shit is. But I think you’re gonna be up to speed shortly. Mmh, yeah. You are so gonna regret crossin’ me in a few minutes. Yes, you are.” A dangerous, wolfish grin flashed across Negan’s face. “You see, Rick, whatever you do, no matter what—you don’t mess with the new world order. And the new world order is really very simple. So, even if you’re stupid, which you may very well be, you can understand it. You ready? Here goes—pay attention.”

He lowered his bat off his shoulder and slotted the barbed end right below Rick’s chin. You held in your breath, your entire body wracking with tremors. Though you knew you needed to stop, you couldn’t help but chance glances at Daryl every so often, your concern for him rapidly growing. Some of that was his blood, it had to be—his eyes were sunken with exhaust and his chest, the very chest you would fall asleep on every night, was rising and falling unevenly, making you believe he was hurt, but you just couldn’t see what was hurting him. 

“Give me your shit… or I will kill you. See? Simple as that.” Negan pulled the bat away from Rick, and began walking around the group as he spoke. “Today was career day. We invested a lot so you would know who I am and what I can do. You work for me now. You have shit, you give it to me. That’s your job. Now, I know that is a mighty big, nasty pill to swallow. But swallow it, you most certainly will! You ruled the roost. You built something, Rick. You thought you were safe, I get it. But the word is out. You are not safe. Not even close. In fact, you are pegged—more pegged if you don’t do what I want. And what I want is half your shit. If that’s too much, you can make, find, or steal more, and it’ll even out sooner or later. This is your way of life now. The more you fight back, the harder it will be. So, if someone knocks on your door… you let us in. We own that door. You try to stop us? And we will knock it down. You understand?”

Rick swallowed heavily. Narrowing his keen eyes, Negan cupped his ear and leaned down closer to the kneeling man. 

“What? No answer? You don’t really think that you were going to get through this without being punished, now, did you? I don’t want to kill you people. I just wanna make that clear from the get go. I want you to work for me—and you can’t do that if you’re dead, now, can you? I’m not growin’ a garden. But you killed my people—a whole damn lot of ‘em! More than I’m comfortable with, honestly. And for that… for that you’re gonna pay.”

Your hands curled into fists on your knees. You knew what was coming. And you’d be damned if you were going to let it happen.

“So, now… I’m gonna beat the holy hell outta one of you.” Negan inhaled sharply, as if he enjoyed prolonging the torture. He bent down once more, showing off the barbed bat. “This right here—this is Lucille. And she is awesome. All this… all this is just so we can pick out which one of you gets the honor!”

Negan stopped in front of Abraham, who straightened and glared defiantly at the smirking man. In thought, Negan subconsciously rubbed his bearded jaw with one hand at the sight of Abraham’s own mustache. “Huh. I gotta shave this shit.”

On he strolled, before halting in front of Carl. “You had one of our guns. Hm. You got a lot of our guns.” Carl only scowled at the man. “Shit, kid. Lighten up. At least cry a little.”

Chuckling, Negan moved on. 

You could feel one of your eyes twitch when you saw his shoes stop right in front of you. His bat was beneath your chin in an instant, forcing you to look up. The sharp metal on the bat painfully scratched against your jaw, and fresh tears pricked the corners of your eyes.

“My, my, you’re a pretty thing, aren’t you? What’s your name, darlin’?”

Hatred simmered within your chest, but you forced your expression to remain indifferent.

You quietly told him your name, wincing when his bat dug deeper into your neck and he ordered you to say it louder. You repeated yourself, voice cracking. A single tear meandered down your cheek and slid down your chin, dripping onto Lucille.

Negan hummed, nodding in satisfaction. “Now that’s what I want to see, folks! A little emotion around here—Y/N’s got the gist of it!”

“Kill me,” you gritted out, making the rest of the group’s eyes widen. You could feel Rick’s stare burning holes straight through you, but you refused to meet his gaze, staring straight up at Negan. “You can kill me. Just don’t hurt them. Let them go. Maggie, on my right, she’s real sick and she needs medicine—if she doesn’t get the proper treatment soon, she’ll… she’ll…”

The man in front of you barked out an amused laugh. “She’ll what?”

“She’ll die,” you snarled. “So kill me. Get it over with—and let them go.”

And for a split second, you let your eyes return to Daryl, one last time. He wouldn’t look at you—he couldn’t—terrified that Negan would bring that bat down on your head if he noticed.

But it was all futile. He noticed anyway. 

He followed your gaze over to Daryl, lowering his bat to gesture between the two of you. 

“Ah… you two are a thing, ain’t ya? Damn. And here I thought you were available for takin’, sugar.” Negan tossed his head back and chuckled with mild disappointment. “God, look at you bein’ all heroic, offering yourself up for the chopping block! No, no, darlin’, this ain’t a game of who gets to be a martyr and save their friends. You don’t decide what’s happening here. I do. You think I don’t know you’re the doctor of the group? My people have been reporting to me—they know you’ve been the one taking care of Little Miss Sickly over there. No… you’re far too valuable for me to kill. We need more people like you, darlin’. Plus, I wouldn’t want to bash in your pretty little face, now, would I?”

With a hum, Negan stepped away from you, fixing his gaze upon Maggie.

“Jesus. You look shitty. I should just put you out of your misery right now—!”

“NO!” screamed Glenn, scrambling onto his feet and lunging at Negan. Before he could even begin to make contact, Dwight grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, threateningly shoving Daryl’s crossbow into his face. 

Maggie cried out—both from a fresh wave of pain seeping through her bones, and from the sight of her husband being dragged back to his spot like a ragdoll. 

Huffing out a sigh, Negan grunted out, “Nope. Nope, nope, get him back in line.”

Glenn screamed, choking back a sob. “No… don’t. Don’t!”

Negan could only smile. “Alright, alright, listen. Don’t any of you do that again—I will shut that shit down, no exceptions! First one’s free—it’s an emotional moment. I get it. Mmh. Sucks, don’t it? The moment you realize you don’t know shit.”

Rick trembled violently beside you. Tilting his head, Negan glanced between him and Carl, realization dawning upon him when he noticed the physical similarities between the two.

“This is your kid, right? Ohoho, that is definitely your kid!” 

“JUST STOP THIS!” yelled Rick, so sudden that it made you flinch.

Equivalent in volume, Negan bellowed back, “HEY! Do not make me kill your little future serial killer! Don’t make it easy on me! I gotta pick somebody—everybody’s at the table waitin’ for me to order, hm?” 

The man whistled out a shrill tune, one that sent a shiver dance down your spine. 

“I simply cannot decide. But I got an idea.” With that, he pointed the bat at Rick. “Eenie.”

He moved to you, before narrowing his eyes, and skipped over to Maggie. “Meenie.”

Abraham. “Minie.”

Michonne. “Mo.”

Glenn. “Catch.”

Daryl. “A tiger.”

Rosita. “By.”

Eugene. “His toe.”

Sasha. “If.”

Aaron. “He hollers.”

Carl. “Let him go.”

And so on he went. 

My mother told me to pick the very best one. And you… are… it.

Your heart dropped when the end of his bat stopped in front of Abraham. 

No. No… no… no…

“Anybody moves, anybody says anything, cut the boy’s other eye out and feed it to his father, and then we’ll start! You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry. Hell, you’re all gonna be doin’ that!” 

And with that, he swung the bat back and brought it clean down on Abraham’s head.

Screams erupted from around you. You could feel your vision blur over with your tears, and you closed your eyes shut, not wanting to see such a gruesome sight, curling in on yourself as you listened to the repeated, sickening squelch of Negan’s bat repeatedly hitting your dear friend. Negan gloated and laughed and jeered. You cried and sobbed and flinched with every strike.

His blood—Abraham’s blood—splattered on your face. You could feel it. 

Warm, moist, and thick. Dripping down your cheek. 

“You guys… look at my dirty girl!” proclaimed Negan, jutting out the bloody bat for all to witness. The monster of a man tilted his head at Rosita, whose eyes were horrified and bloodshot, dripping with fat tears. “Sweetheart… lay your eyes on this!”

When Rosita began to cry harder, Negan hummed. “Oh, damn. Were you… were you guys together? That sucks. If you were, you should know—there was a reason for all this. Red—and damn if that isn’t a good name for him—he just took one, or six, or seven for the team! So take… a damn… look.”

Rosita refused to move her gaze from Abraham’s mutilated corpse.

And, much to your horror, Daryl growled out as he surged forward on his feet, landing a clean punch against Negan’s jaw. You screamed out his name when three Saviors grabbed him and beat him back onto the ground, pinning him tightly against the gravel. A sob wracked through your frame and you could feel your stomach twist into itself. Daryl was still struggling against them, clutching his side as he panted out.

“No!” yelled Negan, clearly furious. “Oh, no. That—is a big no-no. The whole thing—not one fucking bit of that shit flies here!”

Terror clutched at your palpitating heart when Negan shoved Lucille right up into Daryl’s face, smearing Abraham’s blood all over him. 

Dwight strode up and pointed Daryl’s own crossbow against the back of your boyfriend’s head. A sob fell from your lips. You couldn’t watch this—you just couldn’t.

“Daryl,” you cried out, hiccupping through your words. “Negan… no. No, please, don’t! I’ll do anything, please! Not him. Please, not him!”

Amused at your pleading, Negan casted a sidelong glance to you, before grabbing at Daryl’s hair and pulling him upright. “See what you did there, Buckaroo? You got your little partner all upset! Look, they’re crying their eyes out, worried for you.” Negan got back up on his feet. “Get him back in line,” he barked, though his eyes were trained on you.

And in two quick strides, he was back in front of you, gripping your face tightly between his gloved hand. “Look at you, darlin’, all covered in blood. Would it be weird if I say it makes my dick hard as fuck?” You scowled, trying your best to pull your face away from his uncomfortably rough grip. “Ah, ah, ah, sweetheart—your boyfriend here didn’t listen to me earlier. I said the first one was free, didn’t I? And what does that mean? Second one’s got a price, hm? I said I’d shut that shit down—no exceptions. I don’t know what kind of lyin’ assholes y’all have been dealing with… but I’m a man of my word. First impressions are important! I need you all to know me. Know that I’m not joking around with this shit. Now, if you weren’t a doctor and you weren’t so fuckin’ hot—I would’ve bashed your head to pieces without battin’ an eye! But, lookie here, I’m faced with another dilemma. I need to kill another one of you to get my point across.” 

A wail bubbled up in your throat and you began to claw at Negan’s fingers now painfully squeezing your jaw. “No… please, please… don’t, please—!”

“And I want you, darlin’, to pick which one of your little friends I kill.” 

“No!” you spat, breathing shallow and panicked. “Me—just kill me, Negan—you don’t have to hurt anyone else, please, please, let them go, you—”

Getting irritated with you, Negan shook your face until you stopped blubbering. “You’re not listenin’ to me. Pick. Someone. Not you, and not your little boyfriend. I want him to live with the fact that one of his friends died because of him. Pick someone. Anyone, sweetheart. You’ll be doin’ em a favor, honestly. They get to save the rest of you from a miserable death! Now, doesn’t that sound appealing?”

A beat of silence. Negan stared you down, and you glared right back.

“Eat my shit,” you snarled out.

Narrowing his eyes, Negan finally relinquished his hold on you. You gasped for breath, chest heaving, stabilizing yourself with your hands on your thighs. “Goddamn, you’re feisty! Might have to keep you around after this—holy fuckin’ shit. Mmh, alright… fine, then. Since you won’t pick—I’ll just have to kill your precious patient’s boyfriend, hm?”

Before any of you could react, Negan spun on his heel and arced his bat through the air, right onto Glenn’s head. Again, and again, and again.

A piercing scream echoed across the forest. Maggie’s scream. 

Your mouth dropped open as a silent cry scratched down the sides of your throat. 

Glenn was still alive, somehow, after all those bashes. Blood caked his entire skull and part of his head was caved in—to your nauseating horror, one of his eyes had come out of its socket.

“Buddy, you still there?” exclaimed Negan in astonishment, bending down to inspect his handiwork. “I just don’t know… seems to me like you’re tryin’ to say something! But you just took a hell of a hit! I just cracked your skull so hard, your eyeball popped right out! And it is gross as shit!”

After all that, Glenn managed to slur out, “Maggie… I’ll find you.”

Sobs rang throughout the clearing. The rest of the group cried tears for Glenn—without him, all of you would’ve been dead three times over. 

“Awh, hell. I can see this is hard on you guys,” said Negan. “I’m sorry. I truly am. But I did say… no exceptions!” 

With that, he brought down his bat again. Over, and over, and over.

Maggie cried so hard her voice started to give out. 

Daryl, your beloved Daryl, flinched with every stroke of the bat, his eyes red and puffy with tears. You could see it already—the guilt behind his gaze. He thought it was his fault Glenn was killed.

You shut your eyes again. 

“Lucille is thirsty! She’s a vampire bat!” proudly declared Negan, as he swung one final hit on Glenn’s long-dead body. “What? Was the joke that bad? Tough crowd, huh?”

“I’m gonna kill you,” whispered Rick once Negan was done. Rick had blood splattered all over his face, as well. Abraham’s blood. Glenn’s blood. 

Negan squatted down beside him, tilting his head. His bat was dangerously close to you. “What? I didn’t quite catch that, Rick. You’re gonna have to speak up.”

Squaring his jaw, Rick drew in a sharp inhale. “Not today… not tomorrow… but I’m gonna kill you.”

Negan sucked at his teeth. “Jesus,” he softly said. “Simon. What did he have? A knife?”

Pornstache raised his brows. “He had a hatchet. An axe.”

Snorting, Negan shook his head. “Simon’s my right-hand man. Having one of those is important. I mean, what do you have left without ‘em? A whole lot of work. You have one? Maybe one of these fine people still breathing? Oh… or did I…”

The man waved the bloodied bat in front of Rick’s face, taunting him. 

“Sure, yeah. Give me his axe.” Pornstache handed Negan the small weapon and Negan smugly slid it into his belt. Suddenly, Negan grabbed the back of Rick’s jacket and yanked him up, practically dragging him by the scruff towards the RV. Your breath hitched, wanting to stop him, but all the guns trained on the backs of your friends made you freeze. All you could do was lower your head and stave away your raucous sobs. 

“I’ll be right back, folks! Maybe Rick will be with me! And if not… well, we can just turn these people inside out, won’t we? I mean… the ones that are left!”

They were gone for hours.

During those hours, part of you wanted to go to Maggie, comfort her, check if both she and the baby were alright. No doubt she was in a tremendous amount of both emotional and physical pain. The other part of you wanted to go to Daryl, curl up in the safety of his arms and cry into his chest. 

But you couldn’t do either. Not with the Saviors pointing the barrels of their rifles to the back of your skulls. 

The sun was already beginning to rise, tinting the sky a sweet, soft shade of blue. A stark juxtaposition to the dark red blood steadily drying on the rocky ground.

When Rick got back, Negan ruthlessly threw him down in front of the group. He looked exhausted. More than that—he looked dead inside. The light behind his eyes was gone.

“Do you know what that little trip was about?” asked Negan. 

Rick looked around wildly, as if making sure that everyone else was alright. 

“Speak when you’re spoken to,” Negan hissed.

Begrudgingly, Rick bowed his head. “Okay… okay.”

Negan wolfishly grinned, though there was a dark glimmer to his irises that you misliked. “That trip was about the way that you looked at me. I wanted to change that. I wanted you to understand. But you’re still lookin’ at me the same damn way. Like I shit in your scrambled eggs, and that’s not gonna work!” Once again, Negan squatted down beside Rick, that smug expression still plastered across the man’s coarse features. “So… do I give you another chance?”

After a moment’s pause, Rick hacked out, “Yeah. Yes.”

Satisfied, Negan clapped Rick on the back, before getting back up onto his feet. “Alright! Here it is, the grand-prize game. What you do next will decide whether your crap day becomes everyone’s last crap day… or just another crap day. Get some more guns to the back of their heads. Level with their noses, so if you have to fire… it’ll be a real fuckin’ mess.” 

You could feel cold metal graze the very top of your temple. 

“Kid, come here,” said Negan, making your heart plummet to your stomach. Rick’s expression shifted to one of pure dread.

Carl didn’t move. 

“Kid… now.” 

With cautious movements, Carl stood up in front of the taller man. 

“You a southpaw?” asked Negan while he unbuckled his belt, pulling it out of its loops.

“Am I a what?”

“A lefty,” clarified Negan. 

Carl scowled. “No.”

“Good,” retorted Negan, before grabbing Carl’s left arm and tying the belt around his bicep. “That hurt?”

Gritting his teeth, Carl bit out a negative. 

“It should. It’s supposed to.” Negan smirked, knocking Carl’s cowboy hat off his head. “Alright, get down on the ground next to daddy, kid. Spread them wings!”

Slowly, Carl lowered himself down beside Rick, his cheek pressed flat against the dusty gravel.

“Simon, you got a pen?” 

Pornstache nodded, brandishing a marker from his pocket and tossing it over to Negan. The man uncapped the black pen with his teeth, flashing you a wink and spitting out the cap somewhere to the side. He kneeled down by Carl to draw a straight line just below the junction of his elbow.

“Sorry, kid,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. “This is gonna be as cold as a warlock’s dick, as if he were hanging his ballsack above you and dragging it right across your forearm! Gives you a little leverage, don’t it?” 

Stammering, Rick muttered out, “Please… please don’t. Please don’t.”

Negan tilted his head, lightly chuckling. “Me? Oh, I ain’t doin’ shit. Rick… I want you to take your axe and cut your son’s left arm off—right on that line! Now, I know you gotta process that for a second. That makes sense. Still, though—I’m gonna need you to do it, or all these people are gonna die. Then your kid dies. Then the people back home die. Then you… eventually. I’d keep you breathing for a few years just so you could stew on it!”

“You… you don’t have to do this,” pleaded Michonne. It was the first time she’d spoken since she got out of the truck. Seeing Carl splayed out in front of her, practically her son, made something inside her snap. “We understand. We get it, we—”

“You might understand! I’m not so sure Rick here does. I’m gonna need a clean cut right there on that line. Now, I know this is a screwed-up thing to ask, but it’s gonna have to be like a salami slice. You remember those, right? Nothin’ messy. I want a clean, forty-five degree cut. Give us somethin’ to fold over. You got Y/N right there to fix him up nice and good. The kid’ll be just fine. Probably.”

Rick was just about losing his mind, rocking back and forth, murmuring incoherently beneath his breath. Sweat dripped down his bloodied face, his hair, mixing with the salty tears leaking from his crazed eyes. 

“Rick. This needs to happen now. Chop, chop. Before I crush the little fella’s skull myself.” 

Swallowing down his sobs, Rick choked, “It can—it can… it can be me. It can be me. Wh… you… you could do it to me. I c-can go with—with you.”

Negan smiled at his desperation. “No. This is the only way. Pick up the axe, Rick. Not making a decision is a big decision, let me tell you that. You really wanna see all these people die? Because you will—if you don’t PICK UP THE FUCKING AXE!”

Rick began sobbing uncontrollably.

“Oh, my God,” said Negan, pulling at his face wearily. “You gonna make me count? Okay, Rick—you win. I’ll start counting. Three!”

“PLEASE!” screamed Rick. “IT CAN BE ME. PLEASE!”

“Two!” Negan kneeled down and slapped a sobbing Rick across the face, before grabbing his cheeks, not unlike he did with you hours before. “This is it, Rick. Make a decision. One!”

With a gut wrenching scream, Rick’s trembling fingers curled around the handle of his axe.

“Dad…” whispered Carl. A tear slipped down your cheek as the events unfolded in front of you. “Just do it.”

Rick cocked his arm back, seconds away from bringing it down to cleave Carl’s hand off. 

But Negan grabbed Rick’s wrist at the very last second, stopping him.

The man smirked, pleased with himself. “You answer to me. You provide for me. You belong to me. Right?”

Frantically, Rick nodded his head. 

“SPEAK WHEN YOU’RE SPOKEN TO! You answer to me. You provide for me!”

“I’ll provide for you!” cried Rick.

“You belong to me! Right?” hollered Negan.

Hiccuping a sob, Rick bobbed his head. “Right.”

“Now that… that is the look I wanted to see.” Negan grabbed Rick’s axe from him and stepped away. “We did it. All of us, together. Even the dead guys on the ground! Hell, they get the spirit award, for sure! Today was a productive damn day! Now, I hope for all your sake… that you get it now. That you understand how things work. Things have changed. Whatever you had going for you before… that is over now.”

Negan clapped his hands together, sighing out in relief. 

And strangely, you were slightly relieved, as well. Maybe he was done. He wasn’t going to kill any more of you. This was all over for now. 

Right?

“Dwight,” said Negan. “Load him up.”

To your shock, Negan pointed Lucille straight at Daryl.

“See, he’s got guts. Not a little bitch like someone I know,” Negan told Rick. “I like him. He’s mine now. You still wanna try something? Not today, not tomorrow? I will cut pieces off of… what’s his name?” 

“Daryl,” said Pornstache.

“Wow. That actually sounds just about right. I will cut pieces off of Daryl and put them on your doorstep! Or, better yet, I will bring him to you and have you do it for me.”

“No…” you croaked out, when Dwight grabbed your boyfriend and dragged him back to the truck as if he were a wild animal, crossbow pointed at his chest. Maggie sobbed from beside you. “No, Daryl… please, no, don’t—please don’t take him from me!” you cried. “Please, I need him… Daryl!”

Negan smiled down at you. “Mmh. Alrighty, then. I’ll take you, too. Come on.” 

A gasp lodged in your throat when he suddenly grabbed your arm and yanked you upwards. 

“No, wait, I’m the only doctor they have, they need—Maggie needs m—!”

“I don’t give a rat’s flying blue ass,” growled Negan, shoving you in the direction of the truck, where Daryl watched you with wide, scared eyes. You craned your neck around to look at Rick and Maggie and the rest of the group—your family—one last time, unsure of when, if ever, you’d see them again. “You’re mine now. Got a whole lot of shit you can do for me, that’s for sure, darlin’. Load ‘em up!” 

One of the Saviors pushed you into the truck just as Negan yelled out, “Welcome to a brand new beginning, you sorry shits! I’ll leave you a truck. Keep it—use it to cart all the crap you’re gonna find me. We’ll be back for our first offering in one week. Until then… ta-fuckin’-ta.”

You collapsed straight into Daryl once you were inside, thundering sobs spilling from your lungs. He wrapped his burly arms around you, smelling of dirt and blood and motor oil. No words needed to be said. No words could be said.

The both of you had lost so much today. 

And now… you’d lost your freedom, as well.

Daryl began crying into your shoulder, and you could only hold him all the tighter. 

[saltpixiefibercraft]

My haul from Carolina Fiber Fest! My first time going, and it was,,,, interesting to say the least. The parking was a solid Nightmare due to the super large dog show happening next door??? I think there were approximately 300 RVs and campers near this event lol. I'm thankful there was a security dude who helped me "cheat" a parking spot with traffic cones so I could actually unload my wheelchair, otherwise I would have had a hell of a time getting in.

[thebisexualdogdad]

Summer road trip with the batfam (batfam x GN!reader)

● so Bruce rented an RV for the batfam to go on a three month coast to coast road trip

● no crime fighting, just family time

● with you, Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, Barbara, Duke, Cass, Stephanie and of course Haley and Ace it was a bit of a tight squeeze

● Alfred was back at home taking a much needed work free staycation

● Kate was also invited but she refused to be stuck in an RV with ten other people all summer, she and Alfred are happy having breakfast together once a week

● Bruce drives the entire time with Damian as his navigator

● mostly because Damian and Jason would kill each other if they weren't separated

● Jason has purposely instigated fights with Damian by eating his snacks clearly labeled 'Damian' on them

● and sometimes Jason gets accused when it was actually Cass who took Damians snacks

● Barbara has every kind of first aid or bug repellent you can think of

● you stop to go kayaking and she pulls six different kinds of sunscreen out of her bag

● Cass is the one delegated to documenting the trip

● and she takes her job very seriously

● she never not has her camera in her hands either taking pictures or videos

● Stephanie "no Cass we do not need photos of the gas station bathroom"

● and she has photos of everyone sleeping in weird positions on the rv

● and a video of Jason snoring to prove to him that he does in fact snore

● you all take turns on where you guys sleep

● there's one queen sized bed in the back that fits three and the two couches turn into a bed that fits another three and the rest are in sleeping bags on the floor

● Ace and Haley however always sleep cuddling someone in the nice comfy queen bed

● Tim has researched every single place you guys are stopping at

● Bruce thought it would be fun to just wing it and see what happens

● but Tim would not let that happen, he has the entire trip planned out down to what towns you would need to stop in for gas

● places everyone requested to go that Tim denied

● Bruce: the world's biggest ball of yarn because it's a classic road trip must see

● Dick: the corn palace

● Jason: vegas

● Damian: probably like a sword museum in the middle of nowhere that he somehow knows has an authentic ancient sword the museum thinks is a replica

● Barbara: the mothman museum

● Stephanie: Roswell

● Duke: the first taco bell

● Cass: dinosaur world

● you do stop at multiple national parks

● going hiking and swimming in little lakes with their own waterfalls

● Jason tries to sneak a snake he finds back onto the RV

● Duke "Oh no, absolutely not, get that thing out of here"

● Damian "you afraid of a little old snake Thomas?"

● Duke "that thing is not little, it is a deadly creature and I do not want it anywhere near me!"

● the RV breaks down outside a town in Wyoming with no cell service

● you all argue about who has to walk the five miles into town to get help

● Bruce and Dick are the two that end up having to do it

● when they return Damian has Tim in a headlock and Cass is taking video of it

● the random guy with the tow truck they brought back "uhh are they okay"

● Bruce "Oh yeah this is normal for them"

● you and Stephanie ended up breaking the no crime fighting rule when you went into a convenience store for more snacks and walked right into a robbery in action

● you two kicked their asses with ease, tied them up for the cops and bought your snacks like nothing happened

● Barbara back at the RV "Y/N is that blood on your face?"

● "nope don't worry about it!"

● Dick brings lots of board games to play while on the road

● Tim and Damian go way too hard trying to win which you have to play mediator for before they try to throw each other out the moving RV

● Jason still loses even though he cheats

● and Stephanie pretends not to know the rules just to mess with Tim and Damian

● you also stop at a bunch of campgrounds, telling ghost stories and having s'mores around a fire

● Barbara "has anyone seen Jason?"

● Dick "I'm pretty sure he said something about being excited to finally cross off peeing in the woods off his bucket list"

● Duke "he has the weirdest bucket list"

● a lot of you are big readers so there's books packed everywhere

● Duke "ooh we should have a book club"

● Jason "absolutely not you're lucky I even participate in Grayson's lame board games"

● Damian "for once I actually agree with Todd"

● you guys finally make it to the west coast and you all stumble out of the RV

● Tim "thank God this trip is finally over"

● Bruce "Tim we are only half way, we still have another month of driving back to Gotham"

● Stephanie "I should have stayed home with Alfred"

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Just Breathe: The Dinosaur Diaries - Sticky Situation ✨

Series Masterlist

A/N: This is my contribution to @undercoverpena April Showers Challenge! This was a really fun write, and I loved exploring an AU that is near and dear to my heart 💙 Please consider reblogging or leaving comments if you like this piece ☺️ I expanded and decided to do a little series, so be on the lookout for more parts to this 🥰

Series Summary: After going under the wings of doctor Miller, the hottest paleontologist you’ve ever seen, he takes you on a little adventure as his research assistant. You’ll get more than just knowledge and dinosaurs, you’ll also end up getting the sweet scientist who can’t seem to keep his hands off you.

Chapter Summary: You find yourself in the middle of a sticky situation in the pouring rain, not to mention a large T-Rex stalks the area you’re in. Joel steps in and saves the day, and he’s the best at calming you down.

Pairing: paleontologist! Joel x fem! reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only)

Tags: Fluff, tension, dinosaurs au, Jurassic Park au, kissing, mentions of smut, paleontologist Joel, protective Joel, cute nicknames

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Your heart thunders in your chest, lightning crackling through your spine as you lean against the dented RV. Rain pours down like a raging monsoon, raindrops like glass cutting into your skin as you shutter in your drenched sweater. You have no breath, no words in your constricted throat as your eyes stay wide, sheer terror coursing through your veins.

“Don’t move,” Joel whispers as he slips his hand around your wrist, his calloused fingers burning through your skin as the heat of his touch makes you feel a little less like you’re on thin ice.

His movements are slow, steady, composed as he pushes his broad back into your chest, his large frame towering over you as he covers you from view. From the large, starving T-Rex that stands mere inches from your face.

You feel its breath, its slimy drool as it dips its massive head and sniffs for its prey. Which is you. You are the prey, and it’s your own damn fault for going outside when it was dark. You knew it wasn’t safe. You knew. Joel warned you. Why didn’t you just listen?

The dinosaur's leathery skin collides against yours, just barely skimming its scratchy body against the surface of your arm as it lifts its head and lets out the loudest roar you’ve ever heard in your life.

Joel squeezes your hand and presses a little closer as he turns his head carefully and whispers against the shell of your ear. “Stay calm. It’ll go away as long as you're silent. Focus for me, sweetheart. Breathe,” he whispers gently against your skin as you feel his plush lips graze against yours, his pine scent filling your senses as it automatically calms your panicked body.

“Joel,” you whisper out terrified, your mouth brushing against his jawline where his soft salt-and-pepper scruff sits, the area you so hungrily lapped against earlier as he had you pinned against the little wooden table in the vehicle, rutting deep inside you as he painted you shades of white between your sticky thighs.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you. Just stay put, sweetheart. Ain’t gonna let anything happen to you,” he says adamantly as his deep, gravelly voice soothes every aching bone in your body.

Your foot catches on the side of a slippery rock and you freeze as you see the ravenous dinosaur turn toward you as its sharp claws dig into the sinking mud that turns into a dirty swimming pool. You hold your breath and close your eyes, trying your best not to make a single sound as Joel takes a step back, crowding your body as you feel his heat encase you as the rain continues to pound against your shaking body.

You can practically hear his soothing voice graze through your mind. Don’t make any movements. Breathe. You’re gonna be just fine.

You feel the rumbling of the jagged rocks underneath and tense your body as you wait for its teeth to rip into your flesh as it swallows you whole. You sink against the side of the RV just waiting for that awful moment when suddenly, you hear a distant roar in the distance. You feel the T-Rex turn toward the noise as it stomps off into the direction of the roar, saving you from what you thought was your watery grave. You hear the distant crashing of green vines and towering trees that fill the jungle. And then it’s quiet, only the sounds of pelting rain hitting the muddy ground.

You keep your eyes closed tight, your fingers flexed as you concentrate on not falling completely apart where you stand. You feel Joel try to pull you out of your misery, but his voice is far away. That deep rumble in a fog as you pretend this didn’t happen, that you didn’t nearly get yourself killed, along with Joel.

“Hey, sweetheart, open your eyes,” he says softly against your ear as you try to fight him off, keeping your eyes closed until you know it’s safe.

Joel shakes you, stirs you from your anxious thoughts and calls your name adamantly as he cups your face and whispers words of affirmation. “You’re alright. C’mon now. Open those pretty eyes for me.”

You bite your lower lip and slowly peel your eyes open and then gasp at the vision that stands before you. Joel stands there in the pouring rain, deft fingers clinging to your jawline as he cups your face affectionately, soft honey eyes staring straight into yours as rain pelts against his tanned skin. Water slips down his hair, his tousled curls slicked back by the rain as his green flannel sits soaked to his broad shoulders, his biceps flexing as he focuses solely on you.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come out here so late. I knew better, and I…”

He cuts you off as he pushes you up against the cool metal of the RV, one hand lingering on your jawline as his other snakes around your hip. His lips crash against yours as you taste sugar and coffee, the perfect mix that sets your taste buds on fire as you drink him down hungrily.

You part your lips and allow him to slot his tongue in. He laps at the inside of your mouth, your tongues colliding together as you breathe in the smell of autumn leaves and rain water that drips off his lips onto yours.

The kiss is hungry, romantic as you slide your hands through his dripping wet curls, twisting your fingers around him so you can be that much closer to him. He lifts you up and wraps your legs around his torso as you pant into his mouth, his calloused fingers digging into your skin as it burns for him.

It’s like a dream, the pouring rain and muted sparks of lightning across the dark sky mixing together to make the heated kiss that much more romantic. You stay like that for minutes just getting lost in each other, lost in the flavor of him.

When you’re both completely out of breath, Joel sets you down on the ground and rests his forehead against yours as he chuckles lightly, his smile lighting up his honey eyes like Christmas lights that shine bright just for you.

“What’s so funny?” you ask as you push against his broad chest. “I nearly got us killed,” you groan as you sulk into the back of the RV.

Joel cups your chin and pulls your face up to his as he looks calmly at you with a soft smile playing on his lips. “Next time jus’ be a little more careful, sweetheart,” he murmurs as he dips down and places a gentle kiss on your cheek.

Before you can ask why he isn’t mad, he bends down and picks something up against the rocks that sit at your feet. “Besides, I wouldn’t have found this if it wasn’t for you,” he grins as he holds up a broken, sharp black claw that clearly came from the T-Rex.

Your eyes go wide as you trace the edge of the claw. “Is this…”

“Yeah, it sure is,” he beams as he slides his thumb over the sharp curve of the claw. “Came right from that Tyrannosaurus rex. Now I have physical proof. Exactly what I needed to collect to do some data research and some tests in the lab.”

His eyes light up like sparkling fireworks as he places the specimen in the pocket of his denim jeans. He hooks his arms around the back of your waist and brings you closer to his chest as he grazes his lips over the sheen of your rain covered lips.

You grip his damp flannel shirt and smile up at him as you brush your nose over his. “My smart paleontologist finally gets his real life dinosaur experience, yeah?” you hum as he brushes his wet lips over yours.

“Mhm, this smart scientist wants to go make love to his gorgeous assistant in the RV. Maybe take a warm shower first, make some hot coffee, maybe sit you on my lap so I can kiss you again and again and again.” He grabs a hold of your hair and presses his plush lips against yours once more as you fall into his arms, completely and utterly hooked on him. The man you fell head over heels for that first day in the lab.

When you pull your lips from his, he takes your hand and squeezes as he drags you back inside. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s get you back inside where it’s warm. Wanna go make love to my girl.”

Tags 💙 @keylimebeag @sawymredfox @amyispxnk @princesatracionera @mountainsandmayhem @lotusbxtch @littlevenicebitch69 @syd-djarin

[kilsythcamping]

Bruce Peninsula rentals

Which is the best thing to do in canada ? Is it Sauble beach camping or rent a cottage in Bruce Peninsula or Bruce Peninsula camping or a memorable visit to Owen Sound Falls or camping at Owen Sound Beach or step out for Owen Sound hiking trails or end up at kilsyth country camping (KCC) Owen Sound to make it the most lovely and memorable day of your life . You will get here everything you have imagined, be it camping or fishing or biking or any other exiting to do activities.

[angelsanarchy]

Tangerine Skies: Possum x Y/N Series CH 2

Tagging: @svgarcaine @icarus-star @romanroyapoligist @tempt-ress @madamemaximoff06 @shady-the-simp @liquidsmoothdomme @auggiethecreator

Possum walked through the woods searching for a place to set up his tent for the night. Thing's got a little hairy at the last place he set up so he decided him and his little brother would take shelter on the other side of the woods.

"Zip up your coat baby brother. I don't want you catching a cold." Possum adjusted the coat on his little Opossum and fed him another oyster cracker as they walked. He stepped suddenly when he tripped over a string attached to a bunch of empty cans.

"Uh oh..." Possum put his hands up in the air hoping that whoever had set up this alert system was friendly and not a weed grower with a shotgun.

"Possum?" He looked up an saw Y/n standing with a baseball bat.

"Diner Angel." He smiled at her.

"How did you find me?" She asked lowering the bat and walking towards him.

"Um..I wasn't really looking for anyone...I just kind of go where the wind takes me." Possum explained as she knelt down and helped untangle his legs from the string.

"This is a very high tech set up you have here." He said almost stumbling once he was free.

"I honestly forgot I even put it up. I just like to know when someone is approaching in case I need to take off." She laughed standing back up and smiling at him.

"Are you camping out here?" Possum asked and she waved him over to follow her.

"I've been parked up here since I got here months ago. It's not too far from the water but not close enough to get super cold at night." She explained as he RV came into sight. Possum's eyes lit up.

"Wow that's luxury." He smiled seeing that she already had a fire lit and seemed to have set up a laundry line.

"It's not much but it's home." She felt proud of her RV. She worked really hard to afford it. It was her baby.

"Would it be okay if we camped near by? We won't be too loud or anything." Possum asked but Y/n seemed confused as to who he was talking about.

"Are you traveling with someone?" She asked curiously and Possum spun around to reveal a Opossum sticking out of the back of his travel pack.

"It's just me and my little brother." Y/n's face lit up.

"Possum! He's adorable!" She covered her mouth and noticed his little matching jacket with him.

"Yeah the family resemblance is pretty intense." He smirked pushing his hair back.

"You guys are more than welcome to set up camp here. I was just about to start dinner if you wanted to join me? I don't know how you feel about hot dogs-"

"Love em. I love dogs...and encased meats. Just not dog meat.." Y/n laughed shaking her head at him. She sat by the fire cooking dinner while Possum started setting up his big orange tent. It didn't take him very long considering he had done it so often. He knew this tent was only going to last a few more weeks and he would need to get a new one if he planned to survive on the road for much longer.

Possum plopped down next to Y/n on a log by the fire, little brother in hand as he sat him on a pillow next to him.

"Thanks for letting us hang out. Most of the people we come across out here are...wild." Possum took a hotdog from the plate Y/n offered him and he noticed little crackers and cheese.

"Those are for him!" She swatted Possum's hand. He place the snack plate on the pillow and watched his little brother go to town on it.

"Hey he likes it. Don't be too nice to him or he'll never want to leave." He explained eating the hotdog.

"I think it's sweet you have matching coats." She commented. Possum looked at his coat and then at his little brothers.

"Wow I didn't even notice that. I guess we have the same taste in clothes too." Possum chuckled.

"I never asked, are you from Emerald Triangle?" She asked sipping a drink.

"No I'm just a wayward traveler. I've been thinking about going home soon...I miss my mom...but don't tell her that." Possum put his hand on her knee and she laughed.

"Your secret is safe with me but I'm sure she misses you too." She smiled making Possum blush.

"How long are you sticking around here for? I've been here a while and you've seemed to kind of settled into the chaos of Emerald." He wiped the crumbs off his hands and Y/b shrugged.

"Still saving up a little more cash before passing through. I haven't decided where I want to go next. Any suggestions?" She asked seeing his eyes grow wide with excitement. He ran into his tent and she could hear him going through his bags before emerging with a map and sat directly next to her.

"Where do I start? This place as the best sunrises and this is where all the pretty waterfalls are. Don't go here because everything smells like that weird dried up flowery shit that grandma's keep on coffee tables..." Possum was searching his brain for the word

"Potpourri?" Y/n said confused. Possum snapped his fingers.

"That's it! That shit is awful and the smell gets stuck in your hair." He shivered like the memory made him physically ill.

"Noted. Do not go there." She laughed as Possum spent most of the evening showing her all the places he's been. He had been to way more places than her and she loved hearing his stories. The only thing that stopped him from continuing his story telling was the snores coming from the Opossum next to him.

"He's a terrible bunk mate. Snores like a blender." Possum whispered.

"I'll let you guys get to bed then." She stood up and Possum stood with her.

"Um...we'll be out here if you need anything. J-just give us a shout." He offered a sweet smile and she gave his arm a squeeze.

"Stay warm Possum. Just knock on the window if you need anything." She offered and he nodded sitting back down on the log as the fire was still going. He watched her walk into the RV and shut the door. She had a view of him sitting by the fire from her bedroom window and she couldn't help but stare at him. He was so interesting and despite him seeming impaired most of the time, she could tell that it had become a part of his personality. He still was able to carry conversations and keep her interest even when he started to rattle off about aliens and the government.

She wouldn't mind him sticking close by until she decides to take off out of Emerald Triangle.

[fivelakesinwriting]

Six Little Harringtons (S. Harrington)

Author's Notes: This turned into more than what I had intended - Steve and his wife take the kids on their annual road trip all while taking a (somewhat painful) trip down memory lane.

Warnings: Swearing, sexual references - innuendos, mentions of grief/ death, *contains brief (personal) theories about what might happen in the final season of Stranger Things, parenting/children, pregnancy, fluff!

Requested: Nope!

*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. And you do not have permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo

The first Summer was easy. It was just him, the wife and Junior in the station wagon heading down to the coast. A little trailer hitched to the back of the car and away they went. Sunshine, sand, more cassette tapes than anyone knew what to do with and a surfboard no one knew how to use.

Then the twins were born. Three little Harrington's smiled back at him in the rearview mirror that Summer. He was vacuuming Cheerios and Lego pieces out of the backseat until almost Christmas.

Baby number four, the Hellraiser, was a total surprise. They felt like they had finally gotten into a routine with the other three kids and then after a particularly rowdy night out, she came to him one morning and told him she was pregnant again.

Well, fuck.

They swore they were done after number four, because she had been such a handful.

"She's Hell incarnate." Steve muttered late one night after a long battle of trying to get their restless toddler to sleep.

But even as a husband and father, Steve was insatiable with the sex drive of a teenager. Which was why when she told him she was pregnant for a fifth time all he could do was laugh and pull her in for a kiss, while giving himself a silent pat on the back.

That Spring he invested in a Winnebago, cleaned it up and got it ready for the Summer. Then one blazing hot Saturday morning in July he helped load all five kids into the RV. Three boys, two girls and all the comforts of home they required to make it a smooth ride.

"Alright, Harrington's. Are we ready?" Steve smiled as he buckled the last seatbelt on the last baby seat, then ran a hand through his hair.

"Steve! Can you help me, please?" His wife called for him at the bottom of the RV steps.

"Yeah! I'm coming, honey. Stay where you are." Steve replied with a tickle to the bottom of his youngest daughter's foot before he stood up and hurried out of the RV.

"Honey, I would have brought this out. You know you're not supposed to lift anything heavy right now." He uttered as he took the cooler filled with snacks for their brood. He lifted it up into the RV, checked on the kids once more pleased to see them all snoozing peacefully in their seats and gently closed the door.

"Are we stupid for doing this?" His wife asked with her hands on her hips, looking up at him.

"Road trip with five kids? Yeah. But it's tradition." Steve smiled as he placed a soft kiss to her forehead and smoothed a hand on her growing stomach.

"Wait until the RV is full of angry teenagers, then we'll see how much you like this tradition." She laughed with a kiss to his chin.

"What are you talking about? I was a dream as a teenager." Steve scoffed before he pat her hips and made his way to the drivers side.

"I know you're lying, Harrington."

..

They only drove for about four hours that first day. Two hours, a break for a picnic and a run around in the park, and then two more hours. They ended up at a beach near their motel, but nowhere near their destination. If having five kids taught Steve anything, he knew to let them run out their energy before bed time. Especially on a road trip.

"When we started dating, did you think we'd end up here?" His wife asked as they sat on the sand and watched the kids laugh and play along the shoreline. Cartwheels, kicking a ball and playing tag. Five little best friends.

"Are you asking if when I found you abandoned on the streets of Hawkins ten years ago if I thought that we'd be married with a bunch of kids? Definitely not. I didn't think we'd make it through the night." Steve laughed softly, the grief and trauma still tangible.

They had met days after Steve returned from the Upside Down, after the loss of Eddie Munson. Hawkins was in flames, the city quickly burning to the ground. Residents were evacuating as quickly as they could, leaving all belongings behind.

Steve was swerving and speeding through the wreckage of the streets when he drove passed her home. Covered in dirt and soot, she sat on the front lawn of what was once her home. He couldn't explain his actions, but he couldn't just drive by her. He slammed on his brakes and yelled for her to get in.

She had been by his side throughout the fall of Hawkins. At first he thought they had been paired by tragedy, but as time went on he realized that life was easier when she was around.

The smell of smoke was overwhelming. Burning buildings, torched cars and inflamed foliage surrounded the once quaint town of Hawkins.

His stomach was in knots and his body was sore, but he had to keep going. He got in his car and drove as fast as the old Volvo would go, the engine rattling under the hood as he pressed the accelerator. He rounded the corner of a familiar street, ignoring a stop sign. The city was in ruins, traffic signs no longer mattered to him.

It was her (once) white denim jacket that caught his eye. A jacket covered in dirt and soot from the fires. She was sat on the front lawn of what he presumed was her home, crying. A girl no older than himself, all alone in a crumbling world.

"Get in! It's not safe here!" Steve yelled through his open window.

She asked no questions. She got up from the front lawn and ran towards the car, climbing into the passenger side.

"I'm Steve." He breathed out as he pressed the accelerator once more.

"Callie."

She had stayed at his side through the remainder of the fall of Hawkins. Held his hand as he watched his friends perish, helped him rebuild his life while they rebuilt the town.

The first boy, while nicknamed Junior due to his uncanny resemblance to Steve, was legally named Edward - Eddie - after the boy who gave his life for Hawkins. He had been born with a full head of dark hair, like Steve, and eyes like his mother. Steve didn't think he could love anyone more than Callie, until he met his son.

They had not planned on naming the rest of the kids after anyone else from the Hawkins Tragedy, but the more they thought about it, the more they wanted their friends to live on in more than just local folklore.

The twins were Ellie, affectionately called El after her namesake, and Will. Both named after the two teens that had sacrificed their lives for their friends and for Hawkins. Callie hadn't know them for as long as Steve had, but her life was equally as enriched for having known them.

The fifth was a boy, Harry, named after Steve's grandfather. Steve admittedly didn't have much of a relationship with his actual parents, but his grandfather had been a major influence in his life and when he saw his fourth child, it was like looking into his grandfather's eyes.

The fourth baby, the Hellraiser, was named Maxine, after the girl who had given Steve the most grief during those early days in Hawkins. The original hellion in his life, and the girl he would have died to protect if he could have. While the girl was still alive, she wasn't able to live her life the way she had before. He had told her he named their child after her, and Max gripped his hand and gave him a smile from her hospital bed.

"Alright, Team Harrington! Time to go to the motel and get some sleep! We've got some driving to do tomorrow." Steve called out to his children as he stood up from his spot on the sand then extended his hands to help up his pregnant wife.

They got all the kids back in their respective car seats and made their way to their motel for the night. After three bedtime stories, one about a girl named El, the kids fell asleep. Little Maxine asleep in the bed with them, her foot in Steve's back.

There once was a girl named El, who was the most powerful girl in the world..

Steve and Callie laid in the bed together facing one another while the kids snored softly in the bed and cribs surrounding the room.

"What are you thinking about?" Callie asked softly as she ran her fingers through his hair.

"You, and all of this." Steve whispered back as he gestured around the room.

"Can you believe that we're going to have our sixth baby?" She laughed.

"Oh, yeah. My plan to have a family band is pretty well complete. Just one more kid to go. She's going to be the tambourine player." Steve smirked as he placed a hand on her belly between them.

"And have you decided on a name for our tambourine player, finally?" Callie asked as she ran her thumb over his hairline.

"I've been thinking about the name Malia." Steve replied as his eyes fluttered shut, feeling her soft fingers on his face.

"I love it. Malia it will be. The last piece of our puzzle." Callie smiled before she placed a soft kiss to his scruffy chin.

"Now if Max would get her foot out of my back, everything would be perfect."

[lady-lostmind]

You Jump, I Jump.

Love is: Stealing an RV together.

a @steddielovemonth prompt Thank you @oh-stars for betaing this!

WC: 1,105 | Rating: T

ao3 link

Steve knows he’s being stupid. Knows he shouldn’t be taking this so seriously. But he really thought he finally had it figured out. He thought he found the thing he’d been searching for this whole time. Something he was actually good at. That he enjoys doing. 

And he never thought it would actually go anywhere, when he started. He thought he could just play shitty bars and open mics and that would be enough. That even if he had to work some shitty job he hates, even if he ended up having to finally take his dad up on his offer to work at his company, at least he would have this. To keep him sane. To keep him fulfilled. 

But then there had been the talent scout, and offers to be flown out to California, and talks of record deals and labels. And he let his hopes build. Thought that maybe he could actually do this. Like, make this his life. He should have known better. 

He should have known to read through the contracts he signed. He should have known it was too good to be true. 

He stares at the door of Eddie’s trailer feeling like dirt. All his dreams of whisking him out of this shitty town thrown out the window. He doesn’t even know how to break the news to him. Really doesn’t want to talk about this at all. 

Steve sighs and knocks on the door. Isn’t even sure Eddie will hear it over the music blasting inside. But the door swings open, and Eddie’s face drops in shock before pulling into a wide grin. 

“What are you doing here, sweetheart? I thought you couldn’t get away for another couple weeks.” Eddie steps back, making room for Steve to come inside. 

Steve glances around, feeling antsy. He doesn’t want to go in. If he goes in they’ll sit down in the living room, and Eddie will light a joint and look at him with those big brown eyes, and he’ll ask. He’ll know something happened and he’ll ask, and they’ll talk. And Steve doesn’t want to do that. He wants to be moving. He wants to go.  He wants to–

“Can we get out of here?” His voice is strained and he watches Eddie’s eyes track what he’s sure is distress on his face. 

Eddie nods, leaning back in to grab his jacket. “Sure, where do you want to go?” 

Steve shrugs as Eddie pulls the door shut and hovers near him on the steps. “I don’t know just…away. Let’s go on a road trip. Just the two of us.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide. “Uh– in what? My van is still fucked after I hit that tree last month. I’ve been walking everywhere.”

Steve looks around again, spotting a shitty, beat up RV in the corner of the trailer park. He points at it. “That.”

Eddie chuckles. “Uh– In Mr. Jenkin’s shitty old RV?

Steve nods. “He moved last year, right? He’s not using it anymore. It’s just sitting there”

A grin pulls at Eddie’s mouth. “Still not really ours to take, Stevie.”

Steve grins at him, letting his eyes linger on his lips before flicking back up to meet his gaze. “Come on. Think about it. You, me, the open road. We can just drive. Just…go.” 

Eddie’s eyes flash with understanding, like he knows why Steve needs to escape. Like he doesn’t even have to explain. 

He dips into a bow, arm pointing in the direction of the RV. “Your chariot awaits, my liege.” 

Steve’s face pulls into a wide smile, a weight lifting off his shoulders as he walks backward, keeping his eyes on Eddie as he moves to follow him. Watches as his face twists into a menacing grin and he picks up pace, making Steve shriek and turn to run from him, laughter bubbling up from his chest. Eddie grabs him around the middle and hoists him over his shoulder, running into the shadows along the back of the RV. Steve smacks his back, trying to catch his breath as Eddie sets him down and presses him against the RV, leaning in close, and dropping his voice.

“Okay, baby. I’m going to climb in through the window. You go around to the door and I’ll let you in, okay?”

Steve nods, his heart racing as he watches Eddie take one last look around the trailer park before scrambling up the side and popping the window open with his shoulder. He falls through, landing inside with a soft thud. Steve makes his way to the door, bouncing on his feet as he waits for Eddie. 

The door swings open and Steve is hauled inside and pushed into the passenger seat as Eddie flops into the driver’s and starts pulling wires down from the dash. Steve stares at him with wide eyes. Can’t deny the fact that this is turning him on. Watching Eddie’s hands work quickly to fucking hotwire this thing. Like it’s nothing. Like he does this everyday. 

Eddie glances over at him with a smirk. “What’s that look for?” 

Steve shakes his head. “Nothing just…It’s one thing to know you used to steal cars with your dad. In theory. To know you have the knowledge. It’s another to…see it.” 

Eddie huffs out a laugh. “Like what you see, big boy?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Oh, shut up. You’re hot. We get it.” 

The RV roars to life and Eddie lets out a victory whoop as he throws it in gear and steps on the gas, lurching them forward. 

–

Steve stares out the window, dark fields rushing by in a blur. He rolls down the window, the cool night air rushing in. Steve takes a deep breath and leans back, turning his head to stare at Eddie, drumming his hands on the steering wheel, hair flying all around him in the breeze. Steve feels his heart swell. Doesn’t think he’s ever felt more loved than right now. Knowing this man would risk it all, just to take Steve on a drive to distract him from whatever it is he’s running from. That he didn’t even ask. Just jumped. 

Steve knows he can’t run forever. Knows that eventually, he’ll have to face this. That he’ll have to accept that he failed. That he got so close just to see it all slip through his fingers. But for now, he sticks his hand out the window, feels the air rush past and sings. He sings along to the radio, sings to the man he loves, sings for himself, and sits back while the road takes them forward. 

[scarisd3ad]

Doctor duties

part of the 'to the end and back' series (Daryl Dixon x reader)

masterlist

Taglist

>>Next

Summary - reader doing her doctor duties while at the quarry

Warnings - none

era - quarry (season one)

edited

All my medical equipment is set up on a table near Dale's parked RV. I've got a little fold-up table and two chairs set up. Glenn had brought the folding chairs and table on a run a while back because 'the doctor shouldn't have to do her duties on the ground.' no matter how often I tell Glenn that I'm not a doctor, he still calls me 'doc.'

I don't get many illnesses in the group, but there are a lot of cuts, bruises, and injuries. "Hey, doc, can you check this out for me?" Shane asks as he walks over and sits in the chair across from me. "sure," I say as he puts his arm up onto the table, revealing a nasty cut. It's deep, and he'll probably need stitches.

 "how'd this happen?" I ask as I take some alcohol on a cotton pad and dab it across the cut. "Out on a run for water, cut myself up on a fence post," he says with a hiss as the alcohol hits his wound. "Sorry, sorry," I mutter as I grab some gauze, a needle, and some thread. "you're probably gonna need stitches, though." I clean the needle with some alcohol before threading the needle. "Alright, this is probably gonna hurt. I'm sorry," I say before stabbing the needle through his skin.

Shane hisses as he grips the plastic table. "Ke-keep going," he mutters. I finish his stitches before wrapping it up with gauze and sending him on his way. "y/n! y/n! y/n!" Sophia runs up to my table with Carl trailing behind her. "What is it, soph?" she points to a band-aid barely sticking to her leg. "Can I have another?" she asks. I don't understand why kids are so obsessed with band-aids; the scratch on her shin is long gone and has been for a week. "sure," I say before reaching into the band-aid box and handing her one.

 Sophia and Carl run off again, leaving me to clean up the mess of blood left on the table after Shane's stitches. "Hey..." I look up to see Glenn standing there with a smile. I raise my eyebrow skeptically. "What do you want, dumbass?" I mutter as he sits in the chair across from me. "nothin' just wanted to say hi," I roll my eyes. "don't touch anything." Glenn raises his hands before laughing, "I won't, alright?" we sit there chit-chatting until we notice Daryl Dixon walking towards us.

Oh god, my heart speeds up. I'm scared of him and his brother everyone is. No one understands why either of them are staying with us; they are rarely at camp anyway. Merle is always out, raising havoc. Half the time, we don't know where the fuck he is. And Daryl is always out hunting; if he's not, he's telling nonsense stories about a chupacabra.

"Hey doc, need yer help." Daryl only asks for help if he really needs it. I gesture for Glenn to move while staring at him with pleading eyes, begging him not to leave me alone with him. "what's wrong?" I ask as Daryl takes a seat. "Just want ya to look at this scratch," he says, tapping a small, almost healed cut on his cheek. I nod and walk over to him, kneeling to look at it. It's small and still red, not any green color, so I quickly grab a cotton pad and some Neosporin. I squeeze some onto his cheek before dabbing it with the cotton pad. I sit there for a second with his chin in my hand. I can feel his breath against my face. He makes me so nervous, and I don't know why.

"We-well, it's not infected, so you're good," I whisper before pulling away from him. "Alright, that's good. I'll see ya later, I guess," he mutters before getting up and walking away. I look over to see Glenn sitting in my chair with his brows raised. "Move," I mutter as I swat at his shoulder. he laughs before getting up and taking his seat across from me. "What was that with Daryl?" he asks, my brows furrow. "I was doing my job," I whisper as I throw away the cotton pad and put the Neosporin back into my bag. "No, it looked like you were going to kiss him." my face scrunches up in disgust. "Gross why would I want to kiss Daryl Dixon?"

Taglist

@rivversin @soul4death @furiousheartpoetry @silicone-bonez @nezukos-number1fan @your-shifting-gurl @maziejay08 @oi-itse @tati-21 @kimbunnysstuff @blipblopper @ramielll @ilyhannah @daryldixonnn @delicatebearpandaopera @crypticmushroom

[amymaleneart]

Hear me out! AU of the AU

"Nothing went wrong harpy AU" where Metheor and Comet both lived but SOMEHOW accepted Y/N and very much refuzed leaving the farm.

Y/N ends up being an auncle and go-to babysitter for the new chiks. You know, that kind of person in the family that ends up as practically third parent.

Out Of Character for wild human-avoiding harpies? Perhaps. Cute as fluff? Absolutely!

That could be interesting. Let's just say that Y/N managed to arrive to the farm a whole day early. Before the whole *ahem* unfortunate event happened.

Y/N would definitely give Ranger Freddy a call to inform him about the mated pair taking up residents in the barn. Zir know it's for the best that they and their nest gets transferred back to the park.

But it just so happens that Freddy is not able to remove them because the park is underfunded. He doesn't have the necessary manpower to move 2 very large adult harpies without the risk of hurting them and/or the eggs. Otherwise it is illegal for Y/N to move them zirself. So zir pretty much stuck with them.

Zir has already left everything behind and the farm is all zir have. So Y/N isn't going anywhere either. Zir would retreat back to the RV and leave the harpies alone. Who, by the way, already pretty much made clear that zir are not welcome.

So the next day, the previous owner arrives to finish the paperwork. The old woman even offered Y/N help in removing the vermin like the good neighbor she is. Y/N, of course, refused and kindly asked to leave zir property when she was starting to get persistent. She does, but gave Y/N a bad feeling that this was not the end of it. Zir called Freddy and told him what happened. He was able to come soon afterwards and help camp out for the night. And also to check up on Meteor and Comet from the safety of the RV.

And Y/N was correct when she showed up with her posy later that day and tries to kill the harpies anyway. With Freddy's help, and a strategic call to the police, you were able to fend off the intruders, even risking zir own life by blocking the nest with your own body. The police arrived in the nick of time and arrested the criminals.

Because of that, Comet has complete trust in zir while Meteor just pretty much tolerated zir for a while. Comet even allowed you to be near the chicks after they were hatched. Even letting zir watch the chicks as both parents goes out to hunt.

Eventually your farm becomes a sort of sanctuary for the harpy family and the chicks grows up with three parents being a part of their lives.

[estrellami-1]

Breathe

Also I’m trying my hand at a permanent taglist… let me know if y’all want to be added!

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Eddie had gone on before him. It wasn’t fair to keep him waiting, but, well… Steve had tried to warn him about smoking.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Steve’s eyes drop closed as he thinks over his life. It was good. Once Vecna was gone, once the hospital scare was over and done with, it was good.

Exhale.

Inhale.

They’d all grown up, separately but together. Robin and Nancy, surprisingly enough, had been the first to leave. Then one by one, the rest of the Part followed in different directions.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Robin and Nancy had moved to San Diego. Dustin and Suzie settled in Maine, of all places. Lucas and Max picked Florida. Will and Mike were closest in Indy. El and Erica—with whatever they had going on—were in Oklahoma, trying to find normalcy.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Steve and Eddie had bought an RV and traveled the country. Visited the kids. They were there for Dustin and Susie’s first kid (and second, and third). They were there when Nancy got her first journalist award. When Mike and Will tied the knot, even if it wasn’t exactly legal yet. When El and Erica needed some familiar faces. When Lucas and Max had gotten hitched. They’d even driven them to the airport, seen them off for their Colorado honeymoon.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Never any kids of their own, Steve reflects. Except in all the ways they did. Everyone had been there for Eddie. Crowded into the hospital room, annoying the fuck out of the hospital staff and uncaring, because that was their Eddie, their brother, their uncle, their grandpop.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Steve had seen memories flash through Eddie’s eyes, like they’re doing in Steve’s mind right now. Their first kiss, sun-drenched and summer-sweet, tentative and so, so hopeful.

Exhale.

Inhale.

When they bought the RV and visited everyone for the first time, rolled up in front of their houses and laid on the horn until someone had gotten annoyed enough to peep out the windows, only to run outside when they realized who it was.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Will and Mike first, since they were closest. Eddie and Steve had taken them out to a gay bar—a nicer one than they’d ever been to at the boys’ age—and had fun for a night. They’d stayed for a few days before making the trek up to Maine to see Dustin and Suzie. Skiing and dinner and loud laughs long into the night.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Then they’d gone to see Max and Lucas in Florida, getting horribly burned the first day and regretting it for the next few days. Max and Lucas had both made fun of them. Then a rather uncomfortable drive to Oklahoma to see the girls. El, who had been learning to cook, made them all dinner. They were introduced to May and Alex, two kids who had needed help. Eddie had put his arm around Steve’s shoulders like he knew Steve had been holding back tears.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Then off to San Diego to see Robin and Nancy. Robin had yelled and barreled out the door. Steve had done much the same thing after parking the RV, and the hug lasted long enough that Nancy had helped Eddie bring their things inside and were well on their way through the first of many iced teas. They’d stayed there the longest, even toyed with the idea of making home base somewhere near.

Exhale.

Inhale.

But Steve knew Eddie, knew he’d want to be near Wayne, at least while he could be. So they returned, set up camp in a town about the same size as Hawkins, about an hour away. Settled in. Hired someone to cut the grass. Bought groceries. On their third day there, kids had come around, intrigued by the new RV, drawn close by the sound of Eddie’s guitar. Kept close by Steve’s snacks.

Exhale.

Inhale.

They’d pseudo-adopted a few kids from that town. The kids had decent parents, who would come over from time to time and joke about Steve and Eddie stealing their kids. The nights would end in beer and laughter and more guitar, softer than the metal Steve had fallen in love with, but no less beautiful.

Exhale.

Inhale.

They grew up together. They grew old together. What goes around comes around, because a few short years ago Eddie had been in this very same hospital, right back in Hawkins. The familiarity of it all had given Steve double vision at times. He’d been there when Eddie passed. Felt him squeeze Steve’s hand for the last time.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Steve hadn’t cried until he’d gotten back to the RV. After all the condolences, the paperwork, the well-meaning bouquets and cards. The family they’d made, who were just as heartbroken as he was.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Steve had driven off, secluded himself for a few months, as he learned how to breathe without Eddie around. He didn’t make any more trips, but he did return to the town they’d made their own. He saw their youngest kids, their parents. More condolences. More faked smiles.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Now, he gives the ceiling a genuine smile. He’d kept Eddie waiting for too long. He takes his last breath and steps into the rest of forever, Eddie by his side.

Permanent Taglist:

@justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround (you didn’t ask but I figured you’d be ok w it… but if not lmk, no hard feelings!)

[skpct]

Day 138: Crater Lake. 830 miles from the Northern Terminus.

I’ve been in Oregon for 120 miles now, and the psychological change is enormous. Oregon is only 450 miles long, compared to California, which is 1700 miles of trail. I’ll be back home in Washington before I know it!

Siead Valley was really small. To call it a town would be an exaggeration; there was a general store, a restaurant, an RV park, and that was it. Nice enough place, though. The walk from there to Ashland wasn’t bad, although it was smoky as heck with the Shelly Fire.

Ashland was nice, a real proper town with a Safeway and everything. I got a pack of day old cinnamon rolls for $1.50, stayed at a somewhat grimy motel, and set out the next day into Oregon proper.

The trail in Oregon is generally flat, and it doesn’t have a ton of great views. It mostly looks like the picture up above. It’s nice forest, but it’s just forest, so you end up walking pretty fast. I’m touching 30 miles per day now.

I did get some very nice views of Mount McLoughlin. I also bagged my first peak (i.e. took a side trip to go up a mountain), Holbart Bluff, so I can scratch that off my bucket list.

I spent some time at the brown mountain shelter…

Saw a sunset at Fish Lake…

And finally got to Crater Lake! I learned all about it’s formation and history. If anyone doesn’t know, there was a big volcano that exploded 8000 years ago, it collapsed in on itself, and now there’s a lake there.

I got to see my family at Crater Lake, too. My parents came down to visit, and my brother works here. Unfortunately, my trip has been derailed again. The Red Fire, Trail Fire, and Lemolo Fire have closed the trail for the next 70 miles, so I’ll have to skip up.

Little skips like that don’t bother me so much. I don’t view the trail as a checklist, it’s an adventure. You don’t have to hit every it of the trail, you just have to get as much as you can. And if there’s a fire, you get out of the way.

What does bother me is the Easy Fire. It’s up in Washington, near the Canadian Border, and it’s already closed some of the PCT. I told myself that if I couldn’t make it to the Northern Terminus for some reason, I would be okay with that. I was definitely lying to myself. I want my adventure to have a satisfying conclusion, but unfortunately I don’t live in a book. It’s entirely possible that a car will come pick me up at some deserted road in Washington, take me home, and I’ll be done with the trail without touching the Canadian Border. I could come back next year, but it wouldn’t be the same. I don’t know.

Well, enough doom and gloom. Washington is still a ways away, and I’m going to enjoy Crater Lake while I’m here. Peace!

[mariamakeslemons]

Spooktober 2024: Day 17 Grabboids (Tremors)

Warning: Reader is Gen Neutral but implied to be white (phrasing implies being born to white parents instead of adopted, I'm sorry)

Grabboids are the monster of the 1990s movie, Tremors. It's a PG-13 movie that is cheesy and just stupid fun, despite being a "horror" movie. For this, ignore all the movies after 2.

It was supposed to be a bit of a vacation for 141 after the shit hole of a mission they had. Instead, Price and his boys are all over the small store, off the floor with a few locals joining them.

“Alright, I just sent the text to Dad,” you declare softly as you look up from your phone. The locals all raise their fists, grin and give thumbs up, before suddenly going silent as the weird monsters move under the shop. It doesn’t break open the floor, but it does cause the floor to bulge a bit. They stay silent for a minute longer, before some of the locals start to whisper again.

“Your da? What’s he going to do?” Gaz asks from beside you, sitting on a lower shelf.

“Dad and Mom actually helped take care of the Grabboids about a year before they got married and a year and a half before they had me,” you explain, still soft. Price wants to demand more information, but it’s obvious that everyone is being quiet on purpose, so he just focuses on you and Gaz as his Sergeant continues to ask questions.

“Grabboid? That’s what they’re called?” he asks.

“Yeah. They’re long ass worms that have these tendrils that come out of their mouths,” you explain, miming said tendrils by wiggling your fingers by your mouth. You suddenly make a grabbing motion as you continue, “They grab whatever they’re gonna eat and pull it back into their mouth. Scared the shit out of me th’ first time I saw one.”

“You’ve seen them?” Gaz sputters out. You turn to him and raise an eyebrow, causing Ghost and Soap to both snort. Price chuckles as well, watching as his Sergeant scrunches his face, mumbling something about stupid questions.

Suddenly, a loud explosion sounds from outside, getting closer to the shop and sending the thing fleeing back the way it came. You jump off the shelf and roll, bouncing up and motioning everyone toward the door.

“Let’s move, we have maybe two minutes before they come back!” You yell, sprinting out. Everyone runs out after you, climbing up the fixtures that had confused Price as they entered town. An armored RV drives up and the top opens, revealing a lovely woman.

“Sweetie, there you are!” she calls up, “Val and I will start the evacuation, but you might need these.” You lean over the ledge enough to catch the pipe bombs with a manic grin.

“I thought you said I should never have access to pyro techniques, Mom!” you call back. Your mother gives you a look Price has seen on both his own mother and Soap’s ma.

“Listen to your Ma, you little shit!” a man’s voice calls from in the RV.

“I am, Dad!” you yell back, before turning to the group, “Alright, we’ll go in two groups.”

The locals are carefully lowered into the RV, leaving you with 141 as it drives off, completely immune to the Grabboids’ attempts to knock it over or drag it back. You sit down, fiddling with a pipe bomb while looking out at the town.

“Don’t worry,” you reassure them, “Mom and Dad act as the evacuation crew for Uncle Burt. Uncle Earl set up a safe zone near his Grabboid Amusement Park with Auntie Kate.”

“Wha’s th’ plan with th’ bombs?” Ghost asks, crouching down beside you. You give them a grin and all Price can think is that you and Soap are going to get along far too well.