#a longer season could've been helpful

[asocial-skye]

me at the Wedding Impossible tag:

[anotherferalrat]

Just finished s1 of Link Click

I'm at my limit besties.

I want to both strangle and hug the main trio.

Sweet, sweet stupid lil dumbasses /aff

[whispering-kavka]

the struggles of today proved to me that i might indeed be a little mentally unwell

[isalisewrites]

A Deep Dive into JKR's Terrible, Amateur Writing - Part One

Welcome to my new series, where I will prove to you, dear reader, that J.K. Rowling, author of the Harry Potter series and resident Twitter TERF, is actually a very, very poor writer.

And when I say 'poor writer,' I'm talking about her prose, her sentence structure, and her scenes. I am not going to discuss anything about the HP world nor the plots of the books.

This is all about the nitty gritty in the craft of writing itself.

Disclaimer for all readers: I'm going to sound very confident in my posts. I'm going to be working under the assumption that I'm a better writer than JKR. Because I am. My apologies if this rubs you the wrong way. You're just witnessing two and half decades of experience with the intensity from a neurodivergent who is hyperfocused on her special interest. I didn't just learn how to create stories; I learned the craft of writing to a minutia of details.

After years of being beaten down by others, I will no longer tolerate that.

I will be using my writing to compare with hers to make some of my points. Some of what I say in these posts could be considered stylistic choices. However, in my humble opinion, most of this is a difference of skill, which can be learned. Yes, everything I'm going to teach and cover in this series can be learned. There's no 'talent' here. You can learn how to become a better writer right here and now. You only have to understand the craft of writing and sentence structure to better improve your prose and scenes.

I don't have fame and money.

I don't need them to teach you how to write better than JKR.

You're free to disagree with my stances about this and about everything I cover, of course. But if you're a writer, you might gain some insight from this post and I sincerely hope you are enriched by my efforts in this. I spent quite a few hours on this post. Helping others become a better writer than JKR is one of the greatest contributions I can give to society.

Thus, take what resonates and leave what doesn't.

I have stated before: JKR's writing is bloated in the wrong places, underwritten in others, and the prose is poor. These problems show up in all of her HP books.

Buckle up, my writing friends. Grab a snack. Hydrate. Let's begin.

Class is in session.

In this post, we're going to dissect a page from HP4.

There's so much wrong with this page and the three pages of this scene overall. So much to go over. Bullet points I'll cover from this page:

Disconnected Dialogue Lines

The Great Sin of Adverbs

Too much fucking dialogue!

Wrong focus altogether in this scene

Out of POV writing

First point. This is a huge ongoing issue I see in all of the HP books. There are a lot of disconnected dialogue lines, which become confusing over time. This could be an issue of the publisher, but it's still a problem. In the middle of this page, we have:

Sirius hesitated. "I've been hearing some very strange things," he said slowly.

Wait, wait, wait. Who said this? Listen, I know. I know it's Sirius. However, this is an improper placement on the page and can become confusing because Harry also goes by he/him pronouns and he's also in this scene. While the dialogue here suggests Sirius is talking, it could easily be misinterpreted if there were other characters or if he said something that Harry could've just as easily said.

To make this dialogue more clear for the reader, it should go as follows:

Sirius hesitated. "I've been hearing some very strange things," he said slowly.

Second point. JKR is an adverb sinner, a criminal. Jail. "Do not pass go; do not collect $200." Arrest her for these blatant crimes, please, for the love of god.

Look, I love adverbs. They're great. Don't fucking listen to anyone who outright demonizes them (including your huffy, uppity literature professors). Adverbs are the seasonings of writing. You season your food; you also need to season your writing when the case asks for it.

However...

Adverbs should always be used sparingly when connected to dialogue tags. The setting in this scene is: Harry is in the Gryffindor Common Room at night crouched in front of the fireplace where Sirius is in the fire in a floo call. I read through the whole scene, though I've only shown one page here.

Harry says a line of dialogue 'slowly' three times and Sirius says a line of dialogue 'slowly' two times.

The same adverb 'slowly' is used FIVE FUCKING TIMES IN THREE PAGES.

I want to scream, not gonna lie here. Set this adverb on fire!

What does this adverb do for us in this conversation? What is so important that we have to be told that five lines of dialogue were said slowly? What do they contribute? Spoiler alert: nothing. What are their facial expressions? Harry is 14. He's exhausted since it's well after 1am or so and he's burdened with the new knowledge of dragons for the first task. He's kneeling in front of a very hot fireplace. There's fire fumes and smoke, potentially. Is he fidgeting? Is he yawning? Rubbing his eyes? Bouncing a leg? Is he picking at the carpet or rug?

Harry is a tired, burdened child.

Show me this!

Now I'm not saying that you can't use adverbs in your dialogue tags. There's a huge difference between "he said softly" and "he whispered." It's about balancing the moment when an adverb says just enough versus an adverb replacing well needed scene enrichment. Let's compare this with a section from my HP time travel fanfiction, Terrible, But Great, Chapter Thirty.

Dumbledore nodded at Monty, pocketing his wand. “Mr. Potter.” “Lo, Professor,” said Monty, pout gone, but still a watchful light in his gaze. “Is there a problem?” asked Dumbledore in a mild tone. Ice slipped in between Tom’s ribs, piercing his flesh. Monty tilted his head. “No, sir.” Oh, but Tom knew better. He could see through that innocent facade. The man could’ve been a Slytherin for how much he was cataloguing every little detail, from Tom’s appearance, to the content of the selected books, and to the supplies of ink, quill, and parchment scattered on the surface of the table. Tom masked the raw, whirling feelings in his chest with a well practiced blank, emotionless expression. He willed himself to hide.  “Nothing at all, sir,” said Tom lightly. “Young Mr. Potter was regaling me about his friendship with Miss Malfoy.” Monty glanced at Tom, brows furrowing. Those blue eyes were piercing, filled with suspicion. “Was he now?” Dumbledore said; though his tone was still without direct accusation, Tom could hear the hint of it. “Then, may I ask, why a silencing charm was necessary for such a benign conversation?” Tom wet his lips. His throat was dry. “I thought it wise to avoid disturbing others in the library.” “I am awfully loud,” said Monty with a sage nod. “Ah. A noble intent. However, it is not an appropriate use of magic in the library,” said Dumbledore, his gaze firm as it bore down on Tom. “Ten points from Slytherin. I think it’d be wise to take your studies to your common room, Mr. Riddle.” “Yes, sir,” whispered Tom.

I only used "said Tom lightly" once in this section to show Tom attempting to be unaffected by Dumbledore's interference. I did not dialogue dump information in giant chunks. I did utilized actions tags versus adverbs, like Monty tilting his head or Tom licking his lips. I suspect that if JKR had written this scene, she'd have used lines like:

"No, sir," said Monty curiously.

or

"I thought it wise to avoid disturbing others in the library," said Tom nervously.

The adverbs that JKR's uses add nothing to her scenes. They're just thrown into them without a thought. Did she even reread this scene after she wrote it? I cringe in agony if I use an uncommon word more than three or four times in an entire 4,000 to 7,000 word chapter, let alone the same adverb five times in three pages. Good grief.

There are two other adverbs used in this page, hastily and bitterly. Hastily does nothing for the scene and is connected to another issue, but I'll go over that in the end. However, bitterly is one of the adverbs I'd keep. It gives us a glimpse into Harry's feelings here. We need more of this, but we got nothing.

Thus, the overuse of adverbs in JKR's dialogue detracts and steals so much from the scene.

Third point: there's too much dialogue and no description whatsoever. Again, the adverbs are a pathetic attempt to give us something, but they're thrown in there without a damn forethought. We're missing the crackle of the fire and the smell of it. We're missing Sirius' facial expressions. We're missing Harry moving around on the floor, fidgeting, yawning, rubbing his eyes, feeling the heat of the fire, bouncing his legs, picking at the rug, something, anything, etc.

The dialogue is bloated with a terribly boring conversation. It's just endless dialogue with nothing else. No, it's awful. Welcome to the fourth bullet point. This scene focuses on the entirely wrong point. This scene is 100% a plot device and it's terribly done as well. It's three pages about Karkaroff being a Death Eater--oh no he might be trying to kill you, Harry, aaaaaa--and something about Bertha Jorkins being near Voldemort's last location. Meh. Who cares. Somebody has been trying to kill Harry in every book thus far. This isn't a new development, sweetie.

We been done know this, okay? Come on.

This is a stilted, unnatural conversation between Harry and Sirius. It's not realistic. It's not normal. Telling Harry about the Karkaroff's past is boring and does nothing for him. One line, maybe two, for Sirius to say, "Hey, keep an eye out for Karkaroff. He's an old Death Eater." Done. End of Karkaroff information. And cut Bertha Jorkins out altogether. I'm sorry, but why the hell are we talking about a dead woman to a 14 year old kid whose biggest problem at the moment is dealing with a jealous friend, school ostracization, and a giant fire breathing lizard???

These points are important to the plot, but they're not important to Harry.

The plot isn't important. No, it's not.

Harry is the POV character.

Harry is the single most important aspect in every scene and should be treated as such.

The plot should weave around Harry, slowly revealing itself to both Harry and the reader. Harry should not be the weaver of the plot. He should not be used in plot devices.

Do you know what part of the conversation was summarized in the prose between Harry and Sirius in a single paragraph versus the three pages about Karkaroff?

Harry talking about how no one believes him about not putting his name in the Goblet of Fire. About the school hating him. About Ron, about his betrayal and his jealousy. About Rita Skeeter. About seeing the dragons as the first task. These are all important to Harry. These all are causing pain to Harry's heart right now. Somebody give this child a hug, please.

We missed out on exploring Harry's feelings here. The author skips the MOST important part of the conversation, what could've been a deeply emotional, either positive or negative, conversation between Harry and Sirius.

Oh, this scene could've been so good. It could've been amazing. There are so many paths that could've been explored here, too.

We could've had a callous Sirius, who doesn't notice Harry's state of being, and just goes on and on about nothing of importance where Harry clams up. Or we've could've had a comforting Sirius, who attempts to give Harry some actual advice about his friendship with Ron. We could've seen Harry opening up in his body language, connecting with this parental figure in his life. We could've heard a story of Sirius' time as a kid at school with Harry's father and the marauders.

We were robbed of an important moment between Harry and Sirius.

Instead, the author puts the focus on the red herring 'foreshadowing' of Karkaroff. What a waste. She's trying to put suspicion on him, rather than Moody/Barty Crouch Jr., the real Death Eater in disguise. Again, who cares. It's not about them. It's about Harry and how his experiences are affecting him. It's about how he reacts to them.

This scene is a waste of time and paper. It's empty of emotion and movement/flow. It's just there for a set up and it's glaringly obvious during a second read of the book.

When I say, "The writing is bloated and underwritten at the same time." this is what I mean. We're focusing on the wrong things here.

Fifth point. JKR breaks the POV character with the following line:

"--and reading between the lines of that Skeeter woman's article last month, Moody was attacked the night before he started at Hogwarts. Yes, I know she says it was another false alarm," Sirius said hastily, seeing Harry about to speak, "but...

Harry is the POV character. Sirius 'seeing Harry about to speak' should NOT be occurring in the prose whatsoever. To fix this with the bare minimum of effort for this poorly written dialogue line:

"--and reading between the lines of that Skeeter woman's article last month, Moody was attacked the night before he started at Hogwarts--" Harry opened his mouth to interject, but Sirius said hastily, "Yes, I know she says it was another false alarm, but..."

I wouldn't write these lines like this, by the way. I just don't want to rewrite this. It's a poor paragraph overall, but this is an example of returning the POV back to Harry. Sirius isn't 'seeing' anything anymore. Harry is doing an action and Sirius reacts to his action.

Breaking POV is a rule that can be occasionally broken, but should be done so with intent and purpose. I'm pretty confident when I say that JKR probably had no idea that this was a mistake on her part in the prose.

All right then.

We have come to an end of Part One in this series. We have dissected a single page and a single scene in JKR's Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. The page in question is 333 should you wish to look it up and study the scene yourself.

More to follow because I have lots of pages to go over. This will definitely be series, ah dear.

And so, please do the world the greatest of favors and write better than J.K. Rowling. I promise, it's not that hard once you see the differences.

Until next time.

Isa

[h0ck3yl0v3r]

foolish one

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

lh43 x childhood bestfriend!reader

warnings: angst, semi-swearing

you and luke were inseparable. always attached to each other, whether it was you attending his hockey games or him attending your events. everyone around you guys always thought you were both dating, although you wish you were, there was never any romantic relationships.

highschool graduation happened, and you and luke both had committed to the university of michigan. as time went on through senior year, yours and lukes relationship was rocky, luke being too busy with hockey and girls to always be there for you. as for you, you were still one of his biggest supporters. it was in that long list of promises you guys made when you were seven. 'we promise to always be there for each other no matter what.'

college was rocky, you barely saw luke, heard from him, it was hard on you.

chances are, tonight, you've already got plans and chances are i will talk myself to sleep again

you cried every night, seeing pictures of luke at parties with girls while you were never invited. you felt invisible to him now, your mom and ellen called every day, they knew how much love you have for luke, they knew it from the moment you slipped and fell on the ice and luke helped you up, the moment your spark in your eyes grew.

and the voices say, "you are not the exception you will never learn your lesson"

that spark was now slowly fading away. you really thought you had a chance being his best friend that maybe, just maybe he'd be in love with you too.

don't know what to call this situation but i know i can't call you mine

the whole first semester of freshman year went by really fast, meaning it was now time for winter break, one of your favorite seasons. luke was still radio silence, you both always spent winter together, guess he's too famous for you now, another promise broken, 'we promise to never forget each other, no matter how famous we get.'

but goodbye screamin' in the silence and the voices in my head are tellin' me why

when ellen and your mother came down to visit they held a little gathering with jack, quinn, luke and his friends.

the gathering was a mess.

"yo moose who's this girl in your baby pictures." one of his teammates had brought up.

"oh her, she's just an old friend." he had replied, 'old friend.' that hurt to hear, you were no longer apart of his life.

cause you got her on your arm and me in the wings i'll get your longing glances, but she'll get your ring

luke didn't know you were there, too busy with his new girlfriend and teammates. but you heard it all, you see it all, it was heartbreaking, quinn saw it all though. quinn was always second closest to you, being that person you looked up to, he was the first person you ever confessed you had a crush to luke on.

"it hurts quinny, it hurts so much, i feel like a ghost to him. i thought we would've happened i thought all the signs i gave him would've been enough for him to catch on. i feel so stupid" you sobbed into quinns chest, hos heart breaking for you.

"shh its okay, my brothers an idiot, please don't feel like stupid, it's not your fault angel" quinn rubbed your back softly as you sat there and cried yourself to sleep.

foolish one sittin' 'round waiting for confessions of love they ain't never gonna come and thinkin' he's the one, you should've been walkin' out foolish one

you woke up the next morning devastated. maybe in another universe it could've happened, but right now its time to piece yourself back together. you couldn't face watching your spark keep fading over someone who no longer is present in your life.

when all is said and done, he just wasn't the one no, he just wasn't the one

for you, luke will always be your past present and future, but right now he is not what is needed in your life, mayne one day he'll come back to his senses but for the time being self-love is the best healing.

tags: @drysdalesv @ghostfacd @shy4turcs

pt 2??

[blossomthepinkbunny]

Vivzepop will always be the biggest issue with her own show if she doesn't change. And i'm not saying that because I desperately want to shit on her but rather because it's so clear that her attitude is what made Hazbin Hotel be so dissapointing after the long wait. The pilot released four years ago and Viv had these characters for much longer than that. One could assume that with this much time on her hands she would have a concise plan for how a series of her story would play out (I can imagine that having an own show is a dream for lots of creative people out there). And I get that that plan might get screwed up by a shorter episode count then expected, but she should be the one who knows her story best and who should know what stuff could also be cut out. The first season of Hazbin Hotel is so incredibly overstuffed with characters and plot that it completely looses the main premise the show was originally pitched with (the idea of a hotel were sinners are redeemed. As it is now the hotel is really not important at all). People have talked endlessly about how Viv can't handle criticism and it really sucks because criticism is one of the best ways to improve your writing, drawings, music etc. Without criticism you won't refine the thing you're working on in a meaningful way. Of course it feels bad when you put something out there you wanted to share and then people critique it, but that's part of pretty much every creative journey, or atleast it should be and Vivzepop shouldn't get a pass from this just because she doesn't like it. And there are great shows, movies or books that are rarely or almost never criticised. But the artists behind these works probably went trough years of honing what they do by being criticised for the stuff they put out. And I don't want to say that Vivzepop didn't work hard to make Hazbin Hotel, but it is hard to claim that she improves in her craft, when everytime someone says they don't like her show she throws a hissy fit. She wants the same reactions that these other amazing pieces of media get without ever listening to criticism. Which she sees as a personal attack rather than a tool that could help her to achieve the same level of writing prowess the creators behind media like that have. She believes she is already on the same level as them, just because she basically shuts anyone out who disagrees with her. There's this clip at the end of a Drew Gooden Video which I think sums up the situation with Viv pretty good (the Video is called "Leaving the YouTube Bubble"). He is talking about Lily Singh and her talk show but I feel like a lot of the stuff he says about handling criticism applies to Vivzepop as well.

(you might have to turn up the audio).

Unprofessional behaviour like that might be excusable when the creator is pretty young or they are interacting with publicity for the first time really. But neither of that applies to Viv. And Hazbin Hotel isn't just an indie animation pilot on youtube anymore. It's now a fully realized show created with a pretty prominent studio on a major streaming network and it should be held to the same standards as other shows or movies alike (not saying indie animation or animation on youtube doesn't have a standard but with more budget and support, there's obviously going to be different expectations for the show now). There have been issues in Helluva Boss and the Hazbin Hotel pilot ever since their release which could've been handled with more time and the new show. But Vivzepop shows time and time again that she isn't willing to listen to people who criticise her, which could actually lead to her show getting better. I don't like Viv or her work a lot. I think she is incredibly unprofessional and she has done her fair share of questionable or problematic stuff, which often leads to issues in her shows. There have been some characters I like, some songs or scenes that were pretty well done, very cool animation and an actually interesting premise on paper in HH and HB. There are things that make me come back to these shows to watch the next episode. And i'm obviously passionate enough about these shows to make whole posts about what I think was done badly and what could be changed. But for the aspects of HH or HB I enjoy, there are soo many more problems I have with it. Problems that won't go away unless Viv stops seeing every criticism as a personal attack. Because if Vivzepop doesn't stop acting like her writing is some unreachable stuff that needs no changes I don't really see a point in assuming that these shows will ever get better.

[spork-supremacy]

probably not that unpopular of an opinion, but I really believe that the love triange in season 3 could have worked if it had something to say about the characters and had proper care and attention put into it. Like it could've actually been somewhat beneficial to getting to know them.

Cole probably wouldn't really have needed much in terms of character study, considering it feels like he was more a victim to an impending break up. Honestly I would be fine if his entire thing was just about him being petty towards Jay because it woud be mostly justified considering Jay immediately puts the blame on him for Nya's change of heart. However, it could also focus on someone wanting Cole for himself, no matter who it was that took interest because, hear me out, while his Dad did love him, he never felt he could really be loved for himself growing up (especially after his mother's death) Because he was always hiding who he was and what he wanted. And now someone has taken an interest in him and who is he to pass up on the feeling of being truely accepted?

For Nya it could touch on her wanting to try new things as she finds her identity, even if that means wanting to try being with different people. Maybe instead of just blindly following the machine it could help her realise that she should consider other options. She is the type of person that needs to be absolutely sure she is making the right descision when it comes to who she wants to be with for life, so in order to do so she needs to branch out beyond the first boy she dated. Then she is no longer the bitch, or the helpless fool that came between a good friendship for no reason other than a machine said so. Instead just a girl trying to figure out if her current relationship was right for her in the first place. Sure Jay made her laugh, but there has to be more to a good partner than that, and how can she grow if she doesn't learn outside of what she knew?

Jay would definetly go into his boundary issues when he was in a relationship probably with some proper build up to better justify Nya wantig a break from him, the extreme jealousy that he displays to an unhealthily over the top degree, the insecurities and probably abandoment issues that I don't know the origin of...

wait, I feel like this one has been done already, just in a not so great way...

*scratches head* I can't seem to quite put my finger on it...

Hehe... all jokes aside...

For the love of all that is sacred someone please direct me towards something someone else has doen that does a deep dive into Jay's unhealthiness in relationships despite how much he really just wants to do it right.

Also by all means though, if anyone wants my own very long "Jay when he's in a relationship." analysis and properly expand on the points I made here...

[willbyersabyss]

What's your level of confidence in a Byler endgame and what evidence can you use to lead towards it?

I have 100% confidence in byler endgame.

Sorry this is longer than I expected, so evidence under here:

Like I said in this other post, the storytelling simply wouldn't make sense if byler was unreciprocated. There would be no reason to give Will feelings for Mike in the first place. If this were an unrequited love story, it would've concluded at the end of s3... maybe s4. They would've given Will a different love interest in California, which they alluded to at the beginning of s4 before settling for Mike again. They know how easy it would be to give him someone new. But they didn't. And they won't.

What's the point of giving Will an unrequited love arc? There is none. It gives Will something for Vecna to chew on? He already has plenty of trauma for that. They didn't know what to do with Will in s4? Sure, but why not explore how everyone is distancing themselves from Will? We could've had him feeling like an outsider because of his queerness and trauma once more, but the distance from Joyce, Jonathan, and Mike exacerbates it. He could just be afraid of losing his best friend because he's gay, not because of his feelings. The rain fight would factor into that. But no. That's not how it's written. He's in love with Mike.

"I'm not going to fall in love." And he did. It's not a crush, it's love. Will said himself that he'll always need Mike. That's not something he's going to get over on a random Tuesday. If this were unrequited, Will would have to move on. But he already admitted he can't. There is no satisfaction in rejection for his arc. It would do nothing but make him feel more ostracized and unaccepted. There's no lesson. It just confirms what he already believes: he won't find love because he's gay. He needs to be proven wrong.

There would be no reason for Mike to struggle with his relationship with El for two whole seasons, with Will being the only one he opens up to about it. Why can't they fix it on their own? Why does he need constant outside reassurance to understand his feelings for her?

Mike has a lot of insecurities and Will is the only one who helps him feel better about it. El makes it worse. El's struggles are also made worse because of Mike. They don't understand each other enough to help because they never try to understand. The one time they did, it ended in more misunderstanding. Then Will's confession "solved" this through... lies. Those weren't El's feelings. Why would someone else's feelings fix Mike and El's problems?

Even El's arc is fulfilled through their break up. Her story was never about romantic love. From the beginning, she's been longing for familial love. People think it would be unfair to El for them to break up, but romance was never needed for her arc in the way it is for Will. And Mike keeps trying to put El into a superhero box even though it goes AGAINST her entire self-identity arc. Mlvn's relationship does nothing for either character but set them back.

Byler endgame is the most fulfilling conclusion for Will, Mike, AND El.

[monarchisms]

im merely curious because of what you mentioned previously, but what do you think is different between the watcher service vs dropout? i /do/ think there is one, but i can't put my finger on it

as of right now, there are two major differences in my eyes: legacy and diversity

the first point, i had to think on for longer because though i'm familiar with dropout because my friends are into their content, my own perspective is lacking. so, i did some minor research to fact check stuff

dropout, i feel, is an exception to the rule in regards to internet-based companies making their own website/streaming services. until recently, they have existed as collegehumor since fucking 1999. they have lots of prior experiences to reflect on, and a long-term audience that often gives them feedback they're receptive to. their older content staying on youtube alongside some new ongoing stuff still being uploaded there is a nice plus. ryan and shane got popular through unsolved comparatively much sooner in 2016, as did steven in that same year with worth it, watcher currently is only 4 years old, so their foundation is more shaky right now

what also helped alongside that was that the transition wasn't as jarring as watcher's announcement. their subscription price on launch in september 2018 was $3.99 a month up until december, when they eased into tiered subs, which must've helped a lot. afaik, watcher tv has no mobile app (yet?), and many fans outside the US are region-locked without a vpn or something similar. with watcher and dropout in its current day each being $5.99, this leads into...

the second point: diversity. dropout launched mobile versions of their service 3 months after the official launch. watcher is exclusive to one official platform, as mentioned before, but in my opinion, what hurts watcher the most is series diversity. they have like, one series going on for a few weeks or months before another starts, so if someone paid them the fee, it'd be for something they might not even be interested in. likely, they'd binge the series they enjoy and unsub until the next season comes out. dropout has the advantages of both legacy series under the collegehumor name readily available, and their unscripted ongoing series coming out concurrently with a fixed schedule so than something new would be coming out i think every weekday at this point. it's reall more bang for your buck

all of this is why i said watcher "wanted to be dropout so bad" yesterday. they've created Yet Another streaming service with a price and catalogue that doesn't justify its existence. this could've been a more focused patreon. this could've been a youtube membership. this could've been a secret third thing. this could've been anything else than what we got, and it would've had the potential to be better.

tl;dr- this is watcher right now:

[todomitoukei]

Honestly it’s a depressing ending for the villains. We get hardly any follow up for the remaining ones, Toga was the last one I expected to die and I was hoping it was a ruse at first. But since it’s official it’s heartbreaking. It’s lacklustre just throwing in a character to portray Tomura and what would happen if a civilian did reach a hand out, and throwing in another character for Deku to interact with. Honestly even the heroes were pointless, nothing has really changed in the system. Hawks never got a consequence for his actions, hell it could have been explored of a hero murdering a villain questioning the like of what makes a villain or hero. But he rises in ranks and has done nothing. I just feel it’s such a rushed ending, and I would have been ok with the same ending if it didn’t feel so messy and compiled together. There are so many loose ends and follow ups from characters, Shoto especially. It’s unfortunate, but honestly I’m glad it’s over. I lost passion after a while, but I appreciate the joy it’s gave me when I first started following the manga and getting into the anime, and experiencing the highs and lows of manga leaks. Dabi was my main one, and it’s one positive I gain from this ending for how open it is to his fate. It’s just sad that it ended this way.

Hori's biggest strength is for sure coming up with interesting ideas - like you said, exploring certain parts could've made for an incredibly interesting story. However, his biggest weakness is not following through with what he's starting, doing a 180 right at the end every time.

The cast has always been too big, yet he chooses to show us minor villains like Gentle and La Brava - who receive a happy ending - while the main antagonists endings aren't even being shown.

As much as the villains dying sucks (subjectively but also objectively since the story spent so much time telling us it's about reaching out and helping everyone no matter what), if they had been at least given a proper conclusion it could've been acceptable, yet after 400+ chapters, the author couldn't even bother to show all the main antagonists and their endings.

Where exactly is Spinner? We know he wrote and published a book, but is he in jail and if so, how did they allow him to publish this book?

Is Compress in jail forever? Is he still in a cell with Geten? He read Spinner's book, but how did he get hold of it? Was the prison kind enough to give him a copy?

What about Touya? Assuming he's dead, how much longer did he have? Did his family care when he died? How is the family coping? Are they getting along? Why did Horikoshi not show us Natsuo and Touya talk after spending so much time saying they used to be so close? Natsuo not saying anything and having mixed emotions after all of this was actually an interesting idea, but not when you don't do anything more with it - now people just think Natsuo is an asshole when in reality, he has every right to feel conflicted, but it sucks as a conclusion when we've all been looking forward to seeing him and Touya finally get to reunite and be happy.

What was the point of Shigaraki appearing as a ghost to Deku? Why wouldn't he at least appear in front of his friends? Why wouldn't we see him show up in front of Spinner, approving his book or something?

And yes, Shouto, too. Why is the main info we get in regards to his father? What about his hero costume, which we aren't even being shown? Did he ever change his hero name or is it going to be Shouto forever?

I wouldn't even say it's rushed as much as it's an unbalanced focus. The last few chapters could've been focusing on these subplots, but instead Hori tried to mimick the tone of the first season by showing the kids returning to school and whatnot, something that could've been shown in less time to also make space for elaborating on a bigger variety of characters and plot points.

I'm also glad it's over, I just wish these characters could've been in a better story.

[zmediaoutlet]

spn20rewatch, 1.02: "Makes things a little bit more bearable."

Wendigo is where Supernatural really begins as it means to go on -- monster of the week episodes that tie loosely in to a whole season arc. I'm a plot person so MOTWs aren't always my favorite, but what they can do very well is deliver a wallop of characterization and even outright character thesis in the middle of the, you know, screaming blonde women and blood spatters.

Much is made of the big moment where Sam and Dean realize they've inherited John's journal, and that he wants them to pick up where he left off -- you know, saving people, hunting things. The family business. The subject of many a Previously On, and for good reason. More interesting to me, though, is the context in which it's said. Sam's on a knife-edge all episode, desperate to go tearing off in pursuit of whatever killed his girlfriend, has to find his dad first in order to do it -- and it's making him behave contra to how Dean expects their usual roles to go. ("I'm the belligerent one, remember?", he says -- another characterization moment that hits me between the eyes, because he's been clearly not belligerent in all of his on-screen moments so far. What else is told to us, and not shown?)

The point of the hunt in Wendigo is to tell the audience, but also to tell Sam, that this is going to be a marathon and not a sprint. It also helps to construct the moral universe the show operates under: that hunters, by dint of the knowledge and skills they have, must help save civilians from the supernatural when they can. It's Spiderman rules but for the entire country, and it's made clear that if you ignore someone in danger that you could've helped, you are no longer considered morally just by this narrative.

Sam visibly wilts -- he wants revenge now and it's killing him -- but Dean coaxes him back and stiffens his spine. But it's not just the 'saving people, hunting things' that does the job.

SAM: How do you do it? How does Dad do it? DEAN: Well for one, them. [Sam looks at HALEY AND BEN.] I mean, I figure our family's so screwed to hell, maybe we can help some others. Makes things a little bit more bearable.

There's also some fun to be had in killing as many of the evil sons of bitches as they possibly can, of course, but it's this that's the crux of the scene, for me. The hunting life is unbearable, awful, scary and dangerous and they get one step ahead and get shoved back three. John hunted for the thing that killed his wife for twenty-two years and didn't even manage to get it; Sam's looking down a long road of the same thing.

It's the work that can be done in the meantime that Dean excels at, and he's telling Sam now that it's worth doing, and in fact that it's required. The Winchesters have to have these minor victories in order to get up in the morning and work toward the greater purpose -- it's what makes the life (and the show) possible at all. When they bring the saved civilians down off the mountain (with the monster burning in their wake), Sam's buoyed. He still has the main guiding purpose of revenge, but he understands Dean's POV now, too -- they're on the same page, heading onto the road together with the same understanding of their purpose. But Sam's driving.

[dagarbagerat]

Garbage Rat Lore Compilation - Complete Season 1

I found the notes!! If you don’t care about Oli the Garbage Rat’s life story as Season 1, keep scrolling. Otherwise learn more below the cut. Information is vaguely ordered chronologically from when it’s mentioned in the stream. Any new information relevant to old details are appended to the end or placed nearby.

Note: Oli is an unreliable narrator; do not take every fact written here as truth. CC! Oli has stated that Rat! Oli has a terrible memory and is full of contradictions. This compilation is in part here to help piece together what parts are truth and what parts are fiction.

If I choose to do it there will be a separate post for streams in Season 2, maybe including all this prior information with new information added on.

Family/Friend Deaths

His father was drinking water out of a toilet in a night club in Central Sheffield. A drunk person sat down and it all went dark, then he was flushed. Oli says if his tail was longer he could’ve pulled him out and saved him implying he was there when it happened. He also told Shelby that part of the reason their father drowned was from trying to help people too much. His father was flushed in 2005, when Oli was 13 (said OOC so it isn't him rambling). He said that his father went to the bathroom in order to put on a maid outfit before he was flushed. He mentions that the toilet was in the nightclub of "corp." As of Stream 8 he said he was over his father's drowning. Oli implies that he flushed his father by saying there's a cycle and one day he'll be flushed by his son, though it's possible his brother flushed his father (OOC it was clarified that Oli is the one that pulled the lever)

His mother died when he was young (long before his father died) to various unspecified rat diseases. He also has a bladder infection he got from his mom which may have been one of the diseases that killed her. Oliver told him they thought his mom died to a "denim disease" and Oli agreed that that is true. Says that his mother probably got diseases from the NY water, and that no normal disease could've killed her. Says his mother got denim disease from jeans

His grandma died to a spider

His little brother, twitch, died in a stream

His sister was cooked alive

His grandpa fell and went splat

His grandma fell to her death. It’s unspecified if this is a separate grandma to the spider one

States he has a dead uncle

Oliver was murdered with a knife after Oli hired Martyn to kill them. Oliver is included as they were his friend during the majority of Stream 1 and Oli even told them that they could be his new family

Cats ripped some of his family to shreds, specifically he mentions his “sister twice removed” (some fleas in chat speculated this meant his sister named “twice” was “removed” from the world by cats since sisters by definition can’t be twice offset a generation). A cousin was also ripped to shreds by cats

His aunt twice removed lived in a paint can, but the fumes got to them and drove them crazy before they eventually perished from the fumes. Note: this aunt was only referred to with they/them pronouns. Also, “aunt twice removed” would typically be called a “great-grand aunt”

A whole “flock” of his cousins were in a pizza box together when a human found them and threw them all into a composter where they died

His friend Remy, from Paris, was found dead after bleeding out on a carpet

Had a step father who died as well. Causes unspecified and it’s unclear which of his parents his step father was married to

His wife died

His uncle fell out a window and went splat, he doesn’t know for certain if his uncle was pushed. He was there and saw it happen with his own eyes. Unclear if this is the same uncle mentioned in stream 1 with no specified death

Brother was caught by the tail by an infant and died (unclear what the child did to the brother to kill it)

His "Evil Aunt" tried to poison him before she ultimately died. He was still sad to see her go

His Uncle Philip was a chain smoker

His best friend Martyn was killed by his own hand during a fight to the death over whether or not Oli murdered Apo (Martyn threw the fight). Oli later says that Martyn is an honorary family member after he sacrificed himself

Mother twice removed ate bad cheese and died

Lost a lot of brothers to a sinkhole in NYC he calls "The Thames." Believes that The Thames in England slowly drifted there from NY

His lover Christopher was eaten by a fox

His "ancestors" died to denim related diseases

Sister "twice removed on his cousin's side" died by falling down a lit chimney as though they were a log.

A sister died at 23

A brother was run over by a taxi in the big city

Step father "twice removed" was eaten by his father before being flushed

Believes Shubble died from a cat incident while he was in the bar. Also something about her turning into a pumpkin (not in my notes but was reviewed in the recap stream).

Locations in his Life

Lived and grew up in Sheffield. Was in Sheffield when his father died at age 13, says he's "from Sheffield" as opposed to New York because that's where his father died. He also believes that Sheffield is the capital of England

Lived for a while in a chalet in Paris. Had a good friend named Remy while living there. One of the last meals Remy made for him was shrimp. Also, Remy is El’s great uncle. Remy regularly would give him frogs that were going to be served. Also, Oliver was Remy's lawyer when the place was sued for poor hygiene

Also in Paris, he spent time living on the streets. Here, he knew street cats that were just like the street rats. Shubble also lived in the streets of Paris at the same time as him, sometimes Remy gave her some food

Also in Paris, he possibly did some modeling or knew models as he is familiar with the amount of direction they are given when posing. He also learned lessons of love during his time here, such as, "love comes at you fast and then it falls down a drain" (this may be a reference to a dead lover and possibly the dead wife he mentioned once)

Implied that he’s visited London as he “knows the type” of rat that never left London. It’s possible he’s stereotyping without ever having been there himself but he’s been to stranger places so it’s not a stretch for him to have visited

Spent some time in the trash of New York. Witnessed a lot of crime there. His sister Shubble considers herself to be from New York instead of Sheffield. Has never paid for an MTA subway ticket. He also learned "The Two-Step Rat" dance in Brooklyn. He is familiar with money laundering from when he lived in New York. Says "NY does not have charity" and that NYC is so big people don't notice or care about rats. He learned to move on the ice because of his life in the frozen NYC sewers. During the winters, he would huddle for warmth in the NYC bins

In NYC his mother would eat metal from the billboards, modeled for the Statue of Liberty, and made the city what it is today (gave the rats rights and guided them there).

Also while in NYC he knew a rat named Master Splinter

Has been to New Orleans and saw Hamilton there

Says he was born in the wilderness before the big city

Says he's been to Rio and ate lots of serrano sausages there. Seems to think people in Rio primarily speak Spanish

Claims he was in the Titanic. Specifically the ship, not the movie. Since this is impossible time wise he is either completely fabricating this memory or was on another ship modeled or named after the Titanic

Says he's been trapped like Apo (meaning by an exterminator) before in "the big city". It is unclear which big city he means as he's been to several

Claims he doesn't know the sea because he's from the city

He believes that "New York" is the entire world, thinks Sheffield & England are in NY. Also believes he's been to every bin in the world.

Health Issues

He is 80% alcohol & 20% garbage

Has a bladder infection

He is pretty sure his body literally cannot handle normal food. After several weeks in the house he now will eat literally anything he is given (but has a special place in his heart for garbage), however, as of Stream 6 he found that eating this cleaner food & drink has resulted in creamier poops & funny insides. He says that fresh food often makes his teeth hurt; sometimes his gums bleed when he bites something that isn't rotting. He prefers his drinks & cheese moldy.

His tail has been gnawed short by gnats

He is balding from lack of nutrients (not really visible on the skin so either he means his hair is thinning or there are missing patches of fur under his clothes)

Had lice as a child

He’s pretty sure his brain cells are rotting

Has a weak heart which he thinks is due to a lack of potassium. He also said he has "bees in his heart" (not sure if this means arrhythmia but that would be my best guess)

Poops a lot due to his poor diet

Instead of fleas, he considers chat to be voices in his head. He still has fleas like any other rat, but doesn't talk to or hear them

Says he is so small due to a lack of calcium and potassium

He has lost some of his fingers in the walls

Is fully aware he has memory issues; as of Stream 4 he has already forgotten who wrote "HELP" on the walls of his house and thinks it may have even been himself & he just forgot

He has gotten metal lodged in his esophagus. He eats iron in particular because he doesn't get enough iron in his normal diet

Oli says he's had to eat his own poop to survive in his past. Worth noting that Shubble notes she has never had to do that

He does keep clean by taking dirt baths occasionally

According to Shubble he "smells like pee & rotting vegetables"

He has bad eyes

After the ratsgiving feast resulted in a much larger poop than usual he tells Oliver that he doesn't have Irritable Bowel Syndrome, instead he claims his bowels are "friendly & kind, unlike [himself]"

He hasn't changed shirts in 20 years

His teeth are sensitive to the cold

He would eat baby powder as a baby to grow stronger

Parental Relationships

His father was the last person to love him, his mother loved him too but she died first

One of his parents is in heaven and the other is in hell, did not specify which is where

His mom didn’t love him anymore when she was dying

He says a cat (Oreo) was acting “just like his mother” when the cat attacked him soon after they shared a sweet moment together

His mom is the only person who ever gave him gifts, his father was always too busy. During Christmas, his mother would always take the gifts back as they could only afford enough presents for one person and she was "greedy"

He believes his father went out of his way to help others too often

His father disapproved of the family living a non-trash life style

His father was a working class man, and Oli says the Janitor sometimes reminds him of him

Called El his mom by accident when she punched him; also saying that punching him was acting like his mom

Thinks highly of his father for getting the family out of the sewers and into the garbage (a step up)

His idea of charity is his dad giving him food & him giving his dad affection

He is sad nobody tells him stories anymore, his mother used to tell him fairy tales.

His father said he [the father] was the big rat and Oli never would be

Yelling scares him and reminds him of his father, it makes him nervous

His father was blonde like Jimmy

Mother had 10 kids and 8 died. Shubble is the only other one left

Education

Knows how to read the numbers “5” and “0”. Told Shelby he’s not very good with numbers

Has stated he has gone to both rat school and rat college (could be the same place). However, he was kicked out of school when he ran out of money. He had a friend named Joe in rat college. He also seems to have cut class fairly often to look for garbage

Is seen reading and writing, and has told some rats he learned how to do this in rat school. He has also told other rats he can’t read or write as he’s just a dumb garbage rat. He has also told some rats that he can write, but not read, and that he instead gets “the vibes” from what’s written

He’s read the book “Of Rats and Men” and considers it a classic all rats should know

Says he learned how to read from the papers and food wrappers in the garbage

His sister also went to rat school and they both learned cursive there

Says his writing is practically his own language

Did not learn how to tell time in rat school because he was too busy looking for garbage

Knows German, jokingly said it was his mother tongue

Relationship with Shubble

Shubble is his sister, the two say they were born in the “same rat tube” which seemed to be Oli’s way of implying they’re twins/from the same rat litter. He’s referred to her as his “big sis” and she thinks she was born first but also admits that saying she’s “older” isn’t right. Oli treats her as if he has more life experience than her, but this may be due to how different their lives seem after they last saw each other. It's possible neither of them remember who is older. The two continue to argue in Stream 6 about who is older briefly and come to the consensus that they're born in the "same rat tube" at the same time again

The two hadn’t seen each other in “a while” (the timeframe changes between days, weeks, months, and years) with Oli last seeing her drowning in a puddle before being washed downstream into a big river. He was there and cried out for her shouting “nooooo” as she was washed away. He believed she was dead like the rest of their family until he saw her again in the house

Oli has on numerous occasions in the Halloween stream used the nickname “Shebble” for her (even typing it out this way)

Shubble doesn’t want to remember how her family died and says things like “stop reminding me” when Oli talks about how their father drowned. She also seems to have repressed the memory of her parents deaths as she expressed surprise as if she had only just learned her dad died when Oli mentioned it the first time, but later says she remembers and that the two are each other’s only family left

The two of them have fought street cats, raccoons, badgers, wombats, and more together. Raccoons were her “biggest enemy” when she was living in New York

Unlike Oli, Shubble considers herself to be from New York and not Sheffield. This is because Oli spent more of his life moving from place to place and explained that "home is where the heart is" and his heart is still where his dad died. In her presence he'll sometimes say he's from "New York and Sheffield". In Stream 7 he explicitly claimed that NYC is his home, in Stream 10 he was back to saying he was from "New York and Sheffield".

Oli thinks she’s losing her heritage as a trash/garbage rat and becoming too much like the other rats (cleaner). He said he had a phase like that where he wanted nicer things too, but also said that since their father isn’t here to disapprove he’ll have to do it.

Shubble at one point forgot their brother(s). She later states that Oli was never her favorite brother (while the two were squabbling) implying she remembers having at least one other brother

Shubble and him both like to live in ways that remind them of their old life; she leaves her window open at all times to feel more like she's on the streets while he lives in the dumpster. She considered moving into the dumpster with him as a second home

Both Shubble & Oli agree that they had other sisters that aren't around/alive anymore

Shubble has been to court before, and implies she means as a lawyer defending Oli

Both Shubble and Oli have seen Suits and possibly watched the series together

Shubble says it would've been easier to be Oli's lawyer than to lie and say she likes him

Shubble says Oli is the most pitiful and sad rat she's ever seen and says he doesn't need to do any acting during the court case to appear that way

Shubble says she remembers the two of them would cry for food together on the streets. Oli says that never happened and that she disappeared at age 2 (worth noting that the timeframe they've been apart is inconsistent)

When Oliver asks if the two are related, Shubble says she sometimes questions that fact herself since they don’t really look alike. She says they were both born in a pile in New York and rats just kinda accepted who was next to them as family. So even if not biologically related, they grew up together as family

Shubble remembers the family living in a drain pipe under a bagel shop which Oli says never happened

Shubble says he has a fibbing problem

Shubble says he definitely probably killed at least another guy while on the streets of New York, but the crime only allegedly happened

Both Shubble and Oli agree that they've spent cold nights huddled together under wet newspapers & hot dog buns

Shubble says that the two of them were there for each other when the family was swept away in pipes under a bagel shop. Oli says that's not what happened to their family

Shubble and Oli used to get into street fights regularly in NY. After Oli wins the trial by combat Shubble is surprised as he apparently never won a street fight ever before then

Both Shubble and Oli have beds in the other persons house

Both Shubble and Oli grew up never apologizing ever since that's not the NY way and people who apologize once never stop apologizing

Oli says Shubble is his sister from his father, NOT another mister in Stream 8, but in Stream 10 he thinks Shubble was possibly adopted

Other Lore Bits

Says he is in his “mid 50s” in rat years. However he got this number from reading a 5 and a 0 on a coin. He is actually 30 years old, and was 13 when his father was flushed in 2005 (said OOC, this is not an in character bit of rambling).

The movie “Flushed Away” is based on his dad’s story and he hasn’t received any royalties. At one point he stated that the lack of money is why he lives in & eats garbage, although he's since decided he'd live a garbage based life regardless as it's what his father would've wanted

Doesn’t bathe & avoids water in general as it reminds him of how his father drowned. Says he washes himself sometimes in dirt. He uses the essential oils from the cheese he finds on pizza lids as shampoo

His dad drank every night (mentioned his father being a drunk in multiple streams)

His last name is “Orionsound” but he considers his full name to be “Oli the Garbage Rat”

Pronouns are he/rat/garbage and more

Oli (the streamer) has stated that he is “literally the smallest size [of rat]”

Likes Papa Caspacito The Butler in a non-platonic way. Only learned The Butler wasn't Papa Caspacito much later, and will still refer to The Butler as "Papa"

His sister loved learning cursive when she went to rat school

Has done shrooms in “the big city”. It is unclear which big city this was as he’s been to several

He nibbles on tide pods at night

He is aware of China and how far away it is

He knows a lot about training/befriending cats (specifically strays), as if he’s done it before (likely the Parisian street cats he knew)

His wife used to nibble on his tail in a sexy way (tail was already short due to gnats gnawing it down), but she died and it’s only been nibbled on in an unsexy way since then

Was on the streets for 20-30 years, he isn’t quite sure how long

Refuses to be used as a test subject

The pigeons in Sheffield taught him to leave his poop everywhere

Shubble’s pumpkin with a ·_· face reminded him of their “unkie”

He is fine living the fine life, but considers it as more of a vacation

He considers the garbage to be a step up from the sewers

One of his uncles if fully familiar with army terms and may have even served

Believes "The Plague" happened in '59 and says he remembers being alive during it. This is impossible as we know he is 30, it's also impossible even working with the "mid 50s" number

Oli believes he is good with men, but also says that women & men always wind up losing interest in him

Oli's story about what happened to Apo (he was there, but can't say if Apo fell or was pushed- nobody can ever know for sure) parallel's his story about the Uncle that he watched fall Very Closely

He has seen Attack on Titan, Game of Thrones, Suits, and Law & Order

Upon overhearing Apo say that Oli's killed 3 of the rats Oli jokes to the voices in his head "3 murders down, 10 more to go" and later says to Oliver "no more trials, any more murders they should just happen"

He considers month old garbage to be good garbage as it's barely rotted

Oli's ideal home is a dual dumpster (2 dumpsters stacked on top of each other) with lots of dumpster rats living together. He wants kids and kind of wants a dumpster/garbage rat girl to settle down and breed with to accomplish this large family lifestyle he misses

He considers himself to be a lover, not a fighter

His arms are too short to get traction in water so he doesn't really know how to swim, he is seen floundering in the water being rushed downstream for a bit before visiting the glow squid. Although he does swim to visit the glow squid, it is more likely this was done for the sake of moving the event along rather than Oli getting over his fear of water/learning to swim

He doesn't like the smell of wet fur as it reminds him of his father drowning

Saw a corpse by the trash (possibly an opossum) he couldn't identify and joked that he "froze to death" when he couldn't get back in the house when the snow came.

Hasn't changed shirts in 20 years

Says he'll do anything for food and likes his drinks & cheese moldy

People, Timmy & Tommy, would throw crumbs and garbage at him from their window

Believes that if you eat a full fresh NY Pizza as a rat you will die in 7 days

Doesn't know Victoria's secret

Claims he has many rat kids around the world that have tuitions

Believes rules only apply when they're not love related

He doesn't believe in God because he lives in the trash and his parents are dead

He has a brother named Sausage who is/was in Spain

Mentions "the war" several times

Bonus from the Recap Stream

What is your Mother's name? - Shelby says "Martha", Oli says "Sue"

What is your Father's name? - Oli says "Stewart", Shubble agrees saying he's "Stewart Little" but grown up. His father can be called "Big Stew"

Together their parents are "Martha Stewart"

Where did you get your outfit? - Shelby, like Oli is wearing the same outfit from years ago, she just cleans and takes care of it

Oli says about his father "I drowned him and I made sure of it"

[d1xonss]

Desert Rose

Chapter 64 ~ The Rain

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose

✧ Era : Season 5

✧ Word Count : 7k

In this chapter ~ Through the many hardships and struggles the group comes to face, none of them could've predicted that they would end up in this predicament. No food, no water, walking endlessly for miles while looking for nothing and everything at the same time. It seems all hope is lost...until it isn't.

If you were to ask how long we had been on the road now, constantly searching for sanctuary and a safe place to rest our heads at night, I wouldn't know what to tell you. My guess would be about a month, hell, maybe even longer than that. Longest month of my life.

It's crazy how much can change in such a scarce amount of time, how little hope you have left in the end. Everyone around me was barely hanging on as we continued to make our way through life with no clear destination. Our food had dwindled down to nothing, our water being the next thing to hit the ground, not being able to find more no matter how long we looked. It was clear we all tried to remain strong, but the reality of it was, I had never felt so weak.

I had completely stopped sleeping, insomnia taking over my mind as I tossed and turned throughout the entire night until the sun peeked out from the horizon into yet another day. The others remained starving, but I didn't have much of an appetite anyway, finding it truly didn't matter for my sake anymore. Nothing really mattered anymore. Though the scorching, hot ball of fire beating down on us every day wasn't something any of us were getting used to. I remember a time where Bob was trying to be positive, preaching about how being in the sun all day would give you a nice tan. But the slight red burns on my skin would say otherwise.

My knees were tucked close to my chest, looking around to all of us crammed together in the white van as we drove down the long road ahead. Again, with no certain purpose. I was squished between Carl and Maggie, continuously knocking into one other with every bump and swerve of the car. I tried to adjust my position to give the others more room, specifically Daryl who sat right in front of me with his legs awkwardly crossed. We still had yet to speak. The only conversations we seemed to have were when he was reminding me to eat, or asking if I found any trace of water when it was my turn to search.

He was concerned for me, it was constantly etched on his face, but even that couldn't bring him to mention the two major losses that wounded me so badly. Truth be told I was glad he didn't. I was still content with being alone, being left by myself to grieve the friends I had cared so deeply for. It was easier that way. At least for me it was.

Maggie's subtle sniffles from just beside my ear brought my presence back to the current situation, fighting the urge not to look at her. She was someone else I found myself avoiding like an illness, still not being able to face her after what happened. Shame and guilt filled me to the brim every time I caught a glimpse. Though instinctively, my mind began to drift again as if it was trying to help me cope with the trauma, constantly finding myself zoning out. It was like a part of me was dying, a piece of my soul being ripped away from me. But the sad thing was, I didn't care.

Our heads all slowly turned to look up front where Abraham sat in the driver's seat, hearing the dreaded sound of the van running out of gas. The man groaned in clear aggravation as he then let out a deep sigh, turning the wheel all the way to the right to fully pull over before the vehicle came to its final halt.

"We're out." he muttered in defeat.

"So, we walk." Rick said from the passenger side.

I sighed and slowly pushed my aching muscles up to get out of the vehicle, following behind the rest of them. The sun was already beating down on my sore flesh as we leisurely walked in a line down the long path ahead of us now on foot. I felt disgusting as I looked down at my dirt covered clothes, silently praying to find a cool river to just jump into. If I did get any sleep at all, surely that was all I would dream about.

I trailed slowly behind Rick and Daryl who were leading the way, overhearing them speak quietly about the urgent need to find some kind of body of water, and soon. We all knew that we wouldn't last much longer without it, the heat only making it worse. We needed a miracle. But something like that just didn't exist these days, and hope seemed like a fever dream.

Though the moment I heard Judith begin to fuss in Rick's arms, Daryl making a comment about how she might've been thirsty, I had heard enough.

"I'm going to head out, see if I can find anything." I stated loud enough for them to hear, before turning to my right to stride towards the tree line.

But I hardly made it two steps before Rick's voice called out from behind me, "Hey!" he spoke, grasping my attention at the last second, "Don't stay out too long."

A slight huff left my lips in annoyance, "Yeah..." I muttered obviously before pushing past the branches to truck deeper into the dry forest.

My boots stomped lightly through the dirt as I passed by the plants surrounding me, trying to find any indication that there was water nearby. I didn't understand how everything for miles and miles could be so dry, no sign of any kind of life. Dead...I felt dead just like the world around me seemed to be. And just like the walkers that were only creeping closer to us as we moved.

The only thing that I seemed to have left was my family whom I couldn't even speak to anymore. It was almost like I was putting up some kind of wall, preparing myself in case something unexpected happened just like with Beth and Ty. Waiting around for the inevitable. I knew they were strong, capable of defending themselves, but that didn't really matter anymore. We all learned the hard way that it didn't matter how strong someone is. Everyone goes eventually.

I kept going, pushing past the bushes and greenery in my way until I made it out into a clearing, pausing as I glanced around to the ground ahead of me. But to no surprise, it wasn't any different from the results we had been seeing for weeks. I felt like pulling my hair out with the amount of frustration coursing through my body, watching the pattern of uncertainty just grow larger as nothing seemed to be working out the way it was supposed to. We had all come so far since that small group in Atlanta, and if this is how it all ended...I felt it would've all been for nothing.

Just then, the sound of sudden but heavy footsteps could be heard approaching from behind me, pushing past the things I had once come across as they tried to keep up. I didn't turn around, only letting out a quiet sigh of annoyance at his presence.

"Stop." I spoke.

The noise faltered immediately upon hearing my voice, slowly glancing over my shoulder to see Daryl standing a good distance away from me, almost like he was scared to get too close. But then again, I did tell him to stop.

"She speaks," he muttered in a quiet tone, "Almost forgot what yer voice sounded like."

At first I thought he was joking, using his humorless sarcasm at a terrible time. But the moment I heard the genuine concern and seriousness in his voice, I came to the conclusion he wasn't. He had actually forgotten what it was like to hear my voice, to speak to me, and to be honest I was starting to forget myself.

"Why're you out here?" I asked, choosing to ignore his comment.

He took a few hesitant steps closer, "...Didn't want ya to be alone."

My jaw clenched, feeling myself grow more irritated by his words, "Did it ever occur to you that I step away from everything else because I want to be alone?"

His expression didn't change from the permanent frown he seemed to constantly carry, standing there silently for a long moment before daring to speak again, "Can't have ya out here by yerself."

"I can handle myself, and you know that."

"Do I?" he countered back.

I narrowed my eyes at him, "Yes." I spoke harshly.

He sighed to himself quietly, cautiously stepping forward again, "You can talk ta me." he tired, "There ain't ever been a time where I wouldn't listen to what ya have to say. Hell, you can just spit out a buncha words, I'll put em together, just...you gotta say somethin. Yer killin me here."

My mouth remained shut as I didn't know what he wanted from me, finding I had absolutely nothing to say as I just squirmed under his gaze that wasn't meant to be harsh. But that's how it felt. A pathetic scoff was the only thing that left my lips as I turned around to walk further into the forest, even though I knew nothing would come out of it. His gruff voice called my name the moment I stepped away, but I ignored him, to a point where his heavy footsteps approached heavier than last time, his hand landing on my shoulder to get me to stop.

I shrugged him off as soon as the feeling registered, "Don't." I snapped.

"Just listen to me." he all but pleaded, "Stop pushin me away, stop runnin off every chance ya get, just let me help you."

I clenched my fists at my sides, "Daryl, I don't need your help! Why can't you understand that? Why can't you fathom the fact that I don't need you! I just want to be left the hell alone!"

A flicker of hurt passed through his eyes, though it didn't quite reach the rest of his face. Almost like he didn't want me to see how hard my words hit him, but it was clear it affected him greatly. Of course it did.

"Well, I dunno what else to do. Feels like...yer just slippin away...from everyone who cares bout ya." he admitted quietly with a shake of his head.

I felt myself snap. "Then just let me go." I spoke harshly before brushing past his shoulder, heading back toward the others in the opposite direction.

My feet harshly slammed down on the ground below me, loud enough to send the noise echoing across the empty forest. Infuriation was radiating off of me, the feeling being so intense that I could've sworn my skin had tinted red at the fire the ignited in my veins. But even I couldn't escape the regret that hit me like a giant bus the minute I had put a vast ocean between us.

Tears flooded my eyes again as the words I expressed to him replayed in my mind, knowing damn well I didn't mean any of the things I said. He wasn't losing me and I never wanted him to think that. But the moment he expressed those words out loud, something just clicked inside my mind. I was terrified of losing him. I was terrified I was pushing him away to a point where if I went back to him, he would brush me aside. And rightfully so.

In the back of my mind, I knew deep down that wasn't true, but it still managed to cross my mind. I immediately wanted to turn back and tell him that I didn't mean it, apologize as many times as he needed to hear, but I was too embarrassed to even look at him. You would think after losing two people that completely shattered me, I wouldn't want to completely isolate myself from the family that remained. But somehow that's just the way it was. The only way I knew how to cope when everything around me was only crumbling further.

While my thoughts were somewhat distracting me, I made it back to the group faster than expected, coming back onto the road in slight shock to see the others standing on a small bridge surrounded by a shit ton of dead walkers. They all breathed heavily as I assumed they took them all on, apparently sick of them hot on our trail. But everyone's attention seemed to be towards Sasha with glares plastered on their faces, watching as Michonne stormed up to her in anger.

"I told you to stop!" she snapped.

"What the fuck happened?" I asked loudly, watching everyone's eyes whip toward me.

They all looked at me like I had two heads, but I still stood there expectantly as I wanted to know what the hell went down in the obvious shit show. But Rick was the only one who made an attempt to answer, shaking his head reassuringly.

"Nothing," he said quietly, "Find anything?"

I took a second to look around at the rest before my eyes landed on Rick again and I shook my head, "No...too dry." I answered in slight defeat.

The disappointment grew thicker, the hope diminishing, picking ourselves up to continue the journey as we put some distance between us and the dead corpses that piled on the concrete. Sasha looked angry and pained, knowing that she too was grieving in her own way after losing her brother. But by the looks of it, she was going to get everyone killed with her actions. I saw how reckless she had become in the past few weeks, though I always brushed it off as I viewed it as her way of coping. But now that it was affecting the others, I was worried it might turn into a problem.

Nonetheless, we continued to move. It felt like that's all we were doing these days, but there was no "better on the other side," it was just this. It would always be this. I couldn't find hope that we would come across someplace safe, finding the prison when we did was just pure luck that we no longer seemed to hold. All we could do was keep going.

I walked mindlessly in the middle of the swarm, feeling a presence moving beside me as they kept up with my sluggish pace. My eyes trailed over to see Abraham, his eyes filled with concern, handing me a bottle of water to take a swig of. I silently shook my head at him, but he gave me a pointed look in return before picking up my arm himself and lightly shoved the water bottle into my hand to take. Clearly he was insistent without even saying a word. But the silent scolding seemed to work as I took a drink of the liquid, noticing the cut he now had on his arm, the fresh blood being a dead giveaway that it happened recently.

I pointed to it, "What happened?"

He raised an eyebrow at the sound of my voice, huffing a small breath, "Uh, Sasha cut me while she was..." he trailed off with a gesture of his hand.

I nodded in silent understanding, seemingly not thinking twice before I reached back in the side pocket of my bag, pulling out a clean cloth before pouring a little water to dampen it. The man tried to protest but the damage was already done, raising it up to his arm to try and wipe the blood off, attempting to clean it at least a little.

"Thanks." he muttered quietly.

I nodded again as I handed the bottle back, continuing to walk side by side. Though I couldn't help but notice the side glances I received from him every few seconds as the quiet consumed us. "Do I have something on my face?" I deadpanned.

He shook his head, "No. It's just...we're all real worried about ya."

"Yeah, I got that." I said without taking my eyes off the scenery, "I'm not the only one struggling here, we're all just about as defeated as the rest."

His head bobbed up and down with a nod out of the corner of my eye, silently agreeing with me, "Okay, sure... but if you ever need a listening ear...I'm around." he said honestly.

The sincerity of his words caused me to look back over at him, "You barely know me." I muttered a bit defensively.

"Doesn't matter." he was quick to say.

I couldn't find the words to respond to his selflessness, but my eyes must've shown some type of appreciation because he looked pretty pleased with himself at the reaction he got out of me. From just the few conversations we had ever since we were first introduced, Abraham seemed okay, but that was all I really gathered. I didn't really believe that he cared about anyone else here but his own two people. But somehow, he just managed to prove me wrong in the best way possible. Maybe he was a little more than okay.

It wasn't long before the group collectively slowed to a halt when we came across a few cars scattered on the side of the road, all of us silently knowing the drill by now, beginning to pick through them for any kind of supplies. Though I caught a small glimpse of Daryl speaking to Carol for a moment, before slowly slipping away back into the forest. My guess was he left to find food, or really anything he was able to bring back to the rest.

My eyes followed his figure until they couldn't anymore, a part of me yearning to follow him so we could talk, but I didn't know what I would say. That I was sorry? But I shouldn't be sorry, feeling it wasn't my fault that my mind was constantly clouded in this depressive state. However, it was my fault for how I yelled at him, saying many things that were far from the truth.

Though after debating back and forth in my mind, I stayed put, knowing that he left the others for a reason. To have some space.

My mind wandered off as I absentmindedly moved toward a nearby vehicle, peering inside to see if there were any kind of supplies left. Of course there was close to nothing, but the keys dangling from the ignition sparked an idea to look in the truck that I noticed had a lock. I treaded back towards the other end of the car with the item in hand, sticking the key inside to crank it to the left, opening it up to see what lied inside.

But my eyes only widened with horror when I saw the weakened walker that was trapped inside, my stomach churning uncomfortably. Her hands and feet were tied up to keep her in place, a cloth covering her mouth to keep it from screaming for help from when she was once alive. Deja-vu ran through me like a shiver, causing goosebumps to form on my skin as my hands stayed firmly planted on either side of the car.

I couldn't leave her like this, feeling as if I had to end her suffering as if she was still somehow alive.

My hand slowly reached for one of my knives before I pulled it out swiftly, hesitating for a moment or two before leaning forward to stab her in the forehead, silencing her muffled snarls. I swallowed thickly before closing the trunk again with a slam, trying to collect myself as if what I had just seen didn't affect me as much as it did.

In the end, no one had found a thing, the cars having nothing of value as someone else had probably cleared these things out ages ago. Thus the journey continued, the atmosphere oddly silent as I felt myself mindlessly staring down at the ground below, kicking rocks beneath my feet as I became hyper fixated on my shoelaces. My mind was plagued with a million thoughts, but yet none of them came clearly. It was as if I was too tired to even think.

Hours passed us by before we all collectively settled down on the side of the road, taking a much-needed break as we got of our feet for a while. The first type of rest we'd gotten since this morning. I scanned the people around me as if mentally doing a headcount when I realized Daryl hadn't come back yet. But in a way, it gave me hope. Maybe he found some tracks to follow and we could actually have a real meal for the first time in weeks.

But after only a few minutes of holding onto that bit of hope, it was suddenly squashed when he eventually found us, emerging from the trees. Safe but empty handed.

He practically dragged his feet as he walked over to join us and took a seat, plopping down on the cement right in front of me, pulling out his crossbow to tinker with to avoid my gaze. I eyed him for a moment, but only a moment, seeing how drained he seemed and how dirt seemed to cling to every bit of skin that was exposed. Yet somehow, he still looked incredible, his arms flexing as he pulled at certain parts of his weapon.

"So, all we found was booze?" Tara's voice suddenly broke me away from my thoughts.

My eyes moved over to see what she was talking about, glancing back at Abraham who seemed to have found some whiskey in one of the cars we searched through. The man gulped down the majority of it like it was the water we needed, but I just knew by the face he made that it wasn't clenching his thirst like he hoped it would.

"Yeah." Rosita said simply.

Tara eyed the man just as I was, watching and witnessing the expressions he made as he continued to sip it down, "It's not going to help. Just make it worse." she said quietly.

"He knows that." Rosita said.

"He's a grown man." Eugene chimed in, "I truly do not know if things can get worse."

I looked over in their direction, "Just wait...it can." I muttered.

No one said a word after that, though I could tell by the looks they had on their faces that they knew I had a point. We had only gone downhill for days and days on end, leaving none of us looking on the bright side because we truly didn't know if there was one. How could there be when everything around us had just suddenly turned to shit.

Although the peacefulness didn't last long, our heads all whipping up at the sound of growling coming from just beyond the forest. The sound wasn't as familiar, none that a walker could've made at least, those were always very distinct. This was coming from an animal.

As if on cue, four dogs cautiously made their way out of the shadows with lowered ears, starting to bark threateningly as they bared their teeth. I instinctively took out one of my knives in case they tried to attack, noting how everyone else seemed to tense up, not wanting to draw attention or make any sudden movements. The animals continued to growl with drool hanging down the sides of their mouth, their eyes completely blackened as if they were under some kind of possession. Though they never got the chance to lunge forward, a series of silenced gunshots firing toward them as each of them dropped dead, causing me to look over in time to see Sasha lowering her gun. Great.

I never thought I would be able to say that I've eaten dog meat before, but life sure is full of surprises. I somehow felt even more defeated while I took slow bites of the tough substance in my hands, looking around at everyone's faces as they seemed to resemble my own. Well, except for Daryl who was practically shoveling the meat down his throat like it was his last meal. But then again, it might be.

I tried to eat what I could, but only finished about half of what I was given before not being able to choke it down anymore without wanting to throw up. My eyes spotted Carl sitting a few feet from me, wordlessly offering the rest of my food so he would have a fuller stomach than I. His brows furrowed, as if he was silently asking if I was sure, but I insisted, feeling good knowing he would have a little more to eat.

Looking at the fire not too far from me, I started to drift off yet again, but this time with the image of the crosses we handmade for the graves of our loved ones. It felt so long ago, yet so recent. Time was a weird thing, not fully knowing whether it was something to cherish, or something that bleeds you dry. It was hard to tell the difference sometimes.

I blinked rapidly when I felt a gentle nudge on my shoulder, seeing Daryl's hand extended out to me as he handed me the rest of his food with just a simple nod. But I was quick to decline his offer as my gaze fell away from him once more, only to feel him nudge me again in insistence.

"I'm fine." I sighed as I glanced back over to him, "I honestly feel kind of...nauseous."

All the man did was grunt in response, seeming to give up at the mention of my unease.

My legs were burning, my muscles clenching and releasing, feeling as if I could sit down and rest forever. But I knew we had to keep going. It was as if everyone was sharing the same mind as we all just focused solely on survival, watching the last person swallow their final bite before we all collectively stood again.

It never felt like it was getting any easier. Every passing second was a struggle as we all fought to stay alive and not pass out from heat exhaustion or dehydration. I knew I was pushing my body to the limits when I felt my lungs burn, but I knew we couldn't stop, not now anyway. Everything felt like a blur, fuzzy in the back of my mind as I could only force myself to stay conscious enough to move. But that was all.

My eyes scanned the woods to the right and left of us, noting there was a hint of thinning just a few yards out which could only lead to another clearing close by. I was prepared to brush it off, to keep moving with the others, that is until I heard the briefest conversation happening just ahead of me. Glenn's voice sounded through the quiet, the mention of Beth's name on his tongue was enough for me to almost lose it. I thought I could handle it; I thought that maybe I was finally ready to listen to someone at the very least bring up her existence. But I was very wrong. I clearly wasn't ready at all as I started to feel myself get overwhelmed, the tightness in my chest growing too uncomfortable for me to handle.

Without a word, I took a sharp right into the forest where I sensed some peace, walking further and further away from the prying eyes until I couldn't anymore. I ended up right where I wanted, scanning the large fields ahead where a rundown barn sat in practically the middle of nowhere. There wasn't a sound to be heard, not one single rustle in the bushes or song of a bird. There was just...nothing.

Realizing I was finally alone, I reluctantly allowed the tears that threatened to fall, completely paint my cheeks. I slumped down with my back against a nearby tree and held my face in my hands as I cried once again for the girl I couldn't save. For the man I couldn't save. I let out everything that was built up, sobbing into my palms quietly as my shoulders shook with so much emotion.

I often found myself wondering how different things would be if both of them were still alive, here with us in this moment in time. I knew that Beth would try to keep everyone's spirits alive; she was always the best at that. And Ty would most likely be taking care of Judith, protecting the group in some way with his giant heart and strong hands. They were both such incredibly amazing people, and I considered myself lucky just to say I got to know them while they were still here. Even though the universe selfishly took them too soon, knowing them at all was something that I should never take for granted.

Drying my eyes as I sniffed back any remaining tears, I reached in my pocket mindlessly for a carton of cigarettes that I found not too long ago, fishing for the lighter I had recently taken from Daryl as well. I placed the death stick in between my lips and lit it as the smoke quickly filled my lungs, sighing in satisfaction as I felt the familiar tingling burn. It tasted awful, leaving an itching sensation at the back of my throat, but the feeling alone somewhat made me feel alive.

My head instinctively leaned back on the tree as I closed my eyes, allowing myself to just feel. Feel whatever emotion that would resurface before I would ultimately have to do the walk of shame back to the group, knowing they would notice my sudden absence soon.

But then there they were again. The same heavy footsteps that seemed to follow me everywhere I went, eventually found my not so secluded hiding spot. And before I could even blink again, he was right there, sensing his eyes staring down at me with the most concern a person could possibly contain.

"Your loud footsteps give you away." I mumbled, taking another drag.

He huffed and slowly sat himself down next to me with a breath, "Yeah, well...the smoke gives you away." he retorted as he gestured to the cigarette.

I nodded, "That's fair." I said quietly.

There was a long but comfortable tranquility that followed, filling the remaining space between us that words never could. I silently offered him the cigarette to which he accepted without question, clearly needing it just as much as I did. I could sense however, that he was a little uncomfortable, not really knowing what else to say even though there looked to be a lot on his mind.

The way I saw it, I felt he didn't want to push me any more than he already had earlier that day, but in my mind, I already brushed it off. I was just struggling, but I didn't know how to tell him that he wasn't the cause of my outburst without completely breaking down. Which that was something that I didn't want to do, at least not right now. So, I just sat there with him instead.

"Do ya wanna talk?" he asked after the silence stretched.

I paused and thought for a moment, "The quiet's nice."

He nodded in understanding before letting out a small sigh, "Can I just...say one thing?" he asked, watching as I glanced over to him and nodded for him to continue. "M' not goin anywhere...alright?"

A lump formed in my throat as I saw the certainty behind his eyes, somehow knowing he would say something like that. "I know." I whispered.

He nodded once more, "Good."

Not another thing was exchanged between us, and I sighed in content. Knowing he was here no matter how much I wanted to pull myself away, gave me a little more strength that I desperately needed. I knew that I needed to keep fighting, and I didn't want to let myself slip into nothing. I knew that neither Beth or Ty would want that for anyone, so I had to be strong for them, for everyone else. But I also had to be strong for me.

I scooted a little closer to Daryl ever so slightly, allowing my head to fall on his shoulder, feeling him breathe in and out shakily as his frame relaxed into me. He gently grazed his hand over mine before grasping it carefully, holding it so softly as if my hand would crack like glass if he gripped it too roughly. For once, it was calm. A moment we both very much needed.

Though we eventually came to a simple agreement to head back, wanting to see where the others had ended up just to make sure they hadn't gone too far. The walk back was wordless as well, the only difference being the hand he kept on the small of my back, as if he needed the comfort only I could provide. And I let him. This time, I finally let him.

When the two of us eventually spotted the group just beyond the thin tree line, they looked a little taken aback and scared. Their heads spun toward us when they heard our rustling steps, relieved to see it was just us, watching as Rick didn't waste any time walking over to show us a piece of paper. Daryl took it from his hands, my eyes glancing over his shoulder to see the words - "FROM A FRIEND " written on it in black ink. My brows furrowed in confusion until I looked up again to see what the group was surrounding. There right on the ground, were jugs and bottles of what looked to be clean, fresh water, but I didn't trust it for one second.

I immediately scanned the area while taking my bow from my back, bringing an arrow in place to be on high alert for the unexpected guests. How we managed to not realize there were strangers following us, I had no fucking idea. All I knew was it was about to end right now.

Daryl tossed the note carelessly to the side, glancing at our surroundings just as I was when someone finally broke the silence, "What else are we gonna do?" Tara asked.

Rick shook his head, "Not this."

"We don't know who left it." I muttered.

"If that's a trap we already happen to be in it. But I for one like to think it is indeed from a friend." Eugene said, staring daggers at the water like a rabid dog foaming at the mouth.

"What if it isn't? They put something in it?" Carol pointed out.

I glanced back towards the others once I knew for sure there wasn't anyone watching us from what I could see, and noticed how everyone went quiet. They all wanted the obvious, to drink the damn water, but we couldn't. That "friend" could easily be trying to kill us out here.

But then Eugene made a move, stalking right over towards the many bottles and grabbed one of them harshly in his grasp to open. He ignored everyone's loud protests as he only held it up closer to his mouth.

"Quality assurance." he muttered before bringing the bottle to his lips.

Abraham then took two long strides over to him and knocked the water out of his hands before he could get a sip. The water splattered all over his face and the ground below, feeling some splashing on my shoes, and I honestly would've laughed if it were a whole different situation. But it was very serious, and everyone was at rock bottom. We all wanted to believe this water was safe to consume, but how could we be so sure when everything had been going so wrong in such a little amount of time.

No one uttered a word after Abrahams sudden actions, but then the unexpected sound of thunder started to echo around the space, grumbling harsh enough to shake the earth. I looked up along with everyone else to see that there were dark, thick clouds starting to cover the sky, raindrops suddenly starting to kiss my cheeks. I flinched a little, not believing for a moment that what I was feeling was actually real, but then it only began raining harder as if to prove how real it truly was. The weight we had all been carrying seemed to melt away in an instant, hearing sounds of joy from all around as they ravished in the forecast while our gazes remained locked on the sky. I hadn't heard such happiness in so long I forgot what it sounded like. It was nice.

I tilted my head back and let the rain hit my face as I tried to get it to wash away the dirt that lingered there. My shoulders relaxed at the coolness of nature's shower, and I ran my hands through my hair that was now getting drenched and dripping down my back. My clothes now stuck to every part of me, the heavy downpour finally soothing my hot skin.

My eyes fluttered opened again, looking to my right when I heard a deep, dry chuckle escape from Daryl, seeing him with a small smile on his lips as he pushed his longer hair back from his face. It was shocking to hear, being deprived from the beautiful sound for so long, but I would play it on repeat all day if I could. He looked so peaceful now in this scene, like he had been waiting for something like this, some kind of sign. And now he had it.

He felt my gaze on him after only seconds, looking over at me and sending me a small wink before turning back to grab a few empty bottles to put out and fill with the rainwater. My expression didn't falter as I watched him walk away, but my heart swelled.

Though the sweet moment couldn't last forever, the thunder only booming louder and the wind growing stronger, Judith beginning to cry at all the loud noises as Carl attempted to cover her with his hat. The group's relief died down as we all quickly realized it wasn't safe anymore to be out in the open in the storm that was clearly coming our way, and we needed to go. With the way the gusts of wind howled and the downpour falling heavier, I knew we needed to find some kind of shelter.

"Let's keep moving!" Rick yelled over the claps of thunder.

My mind ran for a moment before my eyes widened in realization, "There's a barn!" I shouted.

"Where?!" Rick asked.

I quickly nodded for them to follow, leading them into the woods and all the way back to the barn that was peeking out from behind some trees, sitting still in the emptiness. I didn't know if it was safe to hunker down, but it was our only chance, telling them to stay close over the intense sound of the storm as we slowly made our way in through the doors.

We rushed in with our weapons raised, looking in every corner of the big wooden structure only to find a single walker that was trapped inside, killing it off with ease so everyone else could pile in safely. Judith still fussed as the sounds didn't seem to be dying down, but we all tried to ignore it for the most part as everyone slowly got settled, knowing we would be safe in here until it passed.

I dropped my belongings in a corner of the barn and slouched down against the wall with a huff as I finally allowed myself to breathe again. I still felt the droplets of my hair dripping onto my skin, running my fingers through it once more to try and ring everything out. The rain was nice while it lasted, but now I was just freezing my ass off the longer I sat still. Though luckily, Rick didn't hesitate to start making a fire just a few feet away.

My eyes opened once more the moment I felt a presence growing near and looked to see Daryl settling not too far away from me, picking at his nails to have something to do. I sensed a pattern, noticing he did this every time we would camp somewhere new. He would always linger close by, but not too close so I could still have as much space as I needed. He was so incredibly patient it blew my mind. I thought that by now he would've gotten tired of whatever the hell is going on with me, but yet he was still right here, waiting for me to feel okay enough to let him back in.

The idea alone just made me feel even more terrible. I had pushed him away simply because of the hardships we continued to face, only doing it so it wouldn't hurt as badly in case I lost him too. But I couldn't do that, not anymore. We're all still here; alive. And I needed to take advantage of that. I needed to cherish these moments with my family, not isolate myself from them simply because I was afraid of my own demons.

Something clicked in my head that night and I hadn't thought this clearly in a long time, but it was very much needed. I couldn't keep doing this. I knew it would be hard, and I knew things wouldn't immediately go back to how they were, but I wanted to push myself to try. I wanted to try to move on. I wanted to try and just...live.

Things would eventually be okay; I mean we were practically dying of thirst...and then it rained. That was the little bit of hope that we all needed, and I wasn't going to take it for granted. I thought of it as a sign. A sign to keep fighting. To keep pushing.

At that very moment as I thought these things through, I silently thanked Beth for the rain that made me come to my senses.

~ Thanks for reading!

Taglist - @justareader95 @hayley1998 @ryoujoking @sipsthecoffee @winterassassin1804 @marsmallow433 @catlalice @writingstreetspirit @silentlysurffering98 @mystictf @remuslittlesister

[moremaybank]

SPARKS FLY (II) — r.c

pairing hockey player!rafe cameron x fem!flight attendant!reader

summary rafe spends his time on his flight pushing your buttons. then, the obx thunder boys go out to celebrate their latest win, and rafe ends up running into you at the club.

warnings flirty rafe, rafe annoying reader on their flight (but it's cute), alcohol consumption, a sexual innuendo, some suggestive parts, allusions to smut (it's coming next i swear), i think that's it?

author's note decided to make a part two, and this is probably going to turn into a mini series but we'll see. (series inspired by liz tomforde)

sparks fly — the masterlist ;; rafe masterlist

Rafe had been on fire this season, racking up win after win with the help of his team. His following was growing, and with that came plenty of women propositioning him. Normally, he would have revelled in that attention. He probably would've taken at least three of them home to have a party of his own. But something had changed. He didn't want any of them. He couldn't even think about them. All that he wanted was you.

Ever since that first flight with you, Rafe couldn't get you out of his mind. Your banter, your commitment to your professionalism, and the fireworks that erupted in the pit of his stomach whenever he interacted with you. You'd left a lasting impression on him, like you imprinted on his soul with just your glimmering eyes and captivating smile.

No matter how many girls threw themselves at him, he found himself uninterested beyond belief. The only thing on his mind was his desire to get to know you more, to win you over and to show you that there was more to him than his reputation.

Tonight, as he boarded the plane, he couldn't help but glance around, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. There you were, standing in your crisp uniform, your hair down this time around and framing your face. You were wearing a bombshell red lipstick, one that Rafe tried not to imagine painted all over his skin. Your heels accentuated your legs, and even through the stockings, he could tell how glowy and smooth they were. God, the way he wanted them wrapped around his waist, or hooked over his shoulders. Bent back with your feet near your head. He had to stop himself before he sported an accidental hard on.

You could feel eyes on you, and you turned to the right to find Rafe settled in his seat, a teasing grin on his face. He offered you a wink, before shifting his attention onto his phone.

Throughout the flight, he pressed that damn call button over and over, each time with a playful excuse to get your attention.

"Can I get another pillow? This one's kinda lumpy," he'd request with the same stupid yet panty-dropping smirk.

Some time passed, a little longer than usual, and you prayed that Rafe was finally over his antics. But you spoke (albeit, internally) far too soon.

"Could you adjust my seatbelt for me?" It was perfectly fine, and you both knew that, but Rafe refused to let up.

You fixed it for him with a huff. "I'm sure you could've done this yourself. You're more than capable."

"Maybe," he shrugged. He inched closer, the look in his eyes making it impossible to look away. "Or maybe I just wanted to feel your hands on my body."

Your thighs clenched as you gulped, and you prayed that he didn't notice. "Well, cherish that memory because it's never happening again."

He watched you walk away, heading over to another one of his teammates who actually needed your assistance.

"You know, you're trying real hard with someone who doesn't wanna give you a chance," Topper spoke from his seat across the jet. "Why not just go for one of your admirers?"

"I don't want them. I want her," Rafe responded.

Topper chuckled to himself, "Yeah, for one night. Then, you'll ruin it for the rest of us by making it awkward."

"Nah. Not this time. There's something about her. She's different. I can tell."

"Whatever you say, man."

By the time the plane touched down in Seattle, Rafe was on his way to exit the plane when he took one last look at you. There was a newfound sincerity in his eyes. "I'm not giving up, Y/N. It might not happen today, but sooner or later, you're gonna fall for me."

You tilted your head, giving him a knowing look. "I wouldn't hold my breath."

"You're stubborn. It's cute. But it won't last for long."

-

Later that night, the team had decided to celebrate yet another triumphant victory but heading to one of the hottest clubs in downtown Seattle. Upon arriving at Aura, Rafe's teammates were eager to toast to their win and spend the night mingling with people that would promise them a fun time. He agreed to join them, hoping that the night out might help him get you out of his head, even if only a short while.

Everyone entered the barely lit club, the pulsating beat of music filled the air. His teammates wasted no time diving in, but Rafe hung back, nursing his whiskey and surveying the crowd before him.

As if by chance, Rafe spotted you with your colleagues looking effortlessly stunning. Your dress sparkled from the strobe lights, and your laughter and bright smile were infectious, causing Rafe to sport a smile of his own as he watched you. You were captivating, and he couldn't help but be drawn to you.

Rafe took a deep breath, determined to seize the opportunity. It was like the universe was working for him. So, he made his way toward you, and he couldn't deny the flutter of excitement that mingled with nervousness in his chest. It wasn't enough to stop him, though. He couldn't let his chance slip away.

"Twice in one day? I must be the luckiest man alive," he said, trying to sound casual. He wondered if you could see how giddy he really was.

You turned to him, a surprised but sweet smile on your face. "Rafe? What are you doing here?"

He was elated when you didn't brush him off. "Celebrating tonight's win. But I have to admit, seeing you here is a win in itself."

"Really? And why's that?"

Rafe leaned into you, and he looked deep into your eyes. "Because I can't get you off my mind."

Your heart fluttered, and you found yourself torn between resisting his charms and giving in to the chemistry that sizzled between you. You had to admit, his persistence was starting to reel you in.

"Then maybe you should buy me a drink," you suggested.

"Let's go."

Rafe's hand found the small of your back as he led you away from your coworkers and to the bar. You both ordered your drinks, and the alcohol gave you some courage.

"You clean up nice. Not that your uniform doesn't do you justice. It does," Rafe said.

You couldn't help but chuckle. "And you clean up pretty well for a hockey player. But don't let that go to your head."

Rafe grinned, his eyes sparkling. "You know, I'm starting to think that you enjoy challenging me."

You met his gaze with a sly smile. "Maybe I do. It's not everyday that I meet someone who can keep up."

"My stamina's never been an issue, sweetheart."

You felt the heat blooming in your cheeks at the innuendo, and your slowly circled his wrist. "Then prove it. Dance with me."

"Lead the way."

Your magnetic pull drew you two closer, the connection louder than the noisy club that surrounded you. His hands rested on your hips and your back pressed against his front. Your bodies moved in sync, and Rafe's hands on you made you shiver with excitement. The spark between you was now a full fledged flame, burning so brightly it threatened to burn everything in its wake.

As the two of you continued to dance, the question that lingered in the back of your mind pulled at you. You needed to know the depth of Rafe's intentions. You twirled around in Rafe's hold slowly, your arms bracing on his biceps. You bit your lip in anticipation. "Why are you trying so hard with me?"

He paused for a moment, his eyes locking on yours. He took a deep breath before speaking, his voice raw with emotion. "You're a challenge. I like a good challenge. But more than that, there's something about you that's different. You're unlike anyone I've ever met before, and I can't resist wanting to figure you out. I want to know you. I need to."

You felt a mixture of curiosity and attraction. "So I'm a puzzle you're trying to solve?"

He nodded, pulling you closer as you swayed to the music. "Yeah. And I can't shake the feeling that the more I get to know you, the more interesting you'll become."

His answer was enough to intrigue you. "Do you...wanna get out of here?"

He smiled, with a shy but eager nod. "Yeah. Definitely."

RAFE TAG LIST (JOIN HERE!): @oncasette @taintedxkisses @maybankslover @goldenroutledge @penny4yourthoughts @bmo-bri @hemogloban @princessbetsy123-blog @slytherhoes @whoisdrewstarkey @dreamingwithrafe @vigilanteshitposting @twelfthmortalofcrimsonpalace @wildflwrdarlin @adoreyouusugar @f4ll-for-you @tell-me-when-ur-ready @bbycowboi @jjmaybankisbae @jjsbank444 @enhypens-hoe @loverofdrewstarkey @countryclubkook @earth2starkey @angelofcigs @glen-powells @koalalafications @aerangi @cantstoptheimagines @bloody-mf-bsc @maybanksbabe @slut4drudy @lvvrgrl @dancinglikeaballerina @somerandos-world @shahanaazsoumah @darleneslane @sya-skies @ellabellabus07 @emmalandry @madelynie @urbestieboo @cruzgrecia @l1lactheflower @rafegirly @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @gillybear17 @allsmilesreally7 @obaex

[ange1sang]

sweetface, angelface

2.2k words

; canon compliant/post season 11, domestic fluff, sibling love, gallavich, fiona and ian + fiona and mickey, past regrets, mild hurt/comfort but mostly just sweet

Ian and Mickey's West Side apartment is silent when Fiona lets herself in with the spare key she borrowed from Lip. The quiet is thick in a way that it never was back in the Gallagher house - quiet always meant something terrible had happened, and rarely lasted more than a minute or two in their neighbourhood - and Fiona has to pause to take it in with a deep breath.

Lip had warned her that her visit was poorly timed. Ian had been climbing up the mental steps towards another high which had resulted in a quick and easy adjustment of his medication, and while Ian was resilient and experienced after so many years of learning the ins and outs of being bipolar, it had still left him sleepy and distant as his brain got used to the change in chemicals. He'd been off work for half a week - a long time for someone finding their footing in the real world - and Mickey had taken the past couple of days off to take care of his husband, something that had taken Fiona back to Ian's first depressive episode as soon as Lip had told her. Mickey's determination to take care of Ian, his hardheaded love for her little brother, and the fear in his eyes as he rambled about the sudden shift in Ian's behaviour.

She'd been less than supportive back then, knowing that Ian needed real treatment more than he needed love in that moment, but hearing now how Mickey's determination has persisted for years longer than they'd ever expected had made her heart ache.

Ian had always been her baby. Since that first night Frank left her and her only siblings at the time out on the street and she'd carried a feverish Ian and teary Lip to the clinic he'd been her baby. Lip was the second oldest, a role that came with signifcantly less responsibility but still enough of it for him to be her rock through those first few years of playing house all by herself. But for the years before Debbie was born Ian had been the youngest, the one who needed the most care, and even after their other siblings were born and Ian became Lip's best friend instead of just his little brother, the need to take care of him had lingered for Fiona.

It didn't help that Ian was so sweet and kind, always wearing his heart on his sleeve in a way that Fiona and Lip never did. He was vulnerable, and even when he kept his aches and pains to himself it was obvious when he was hurt. She wanted, always had wanted, to shelter him from as much as she could, even when she had too much on her plate to know his whereabouts or the names of kids bothering him at school.

Despite the desire to keep him safe, Fiona knew that he had slipped through the cracks more often than his siblings had. Maybe it was the sweet smile he gave her when she asked if he was alright, maybe it was the resilience that shone through when he started navigating his sexuality by himself, maybe it was his dreams of the army and the tough guy exterior he put on whenever he talked about West Point. Whatever the reason, he'd been left behind when she fussed over Lip being in school, when Debbie got pregnant, when Carl came back from juvie. He was the apple of her eye, but he was so meek sometimes that it was easy to focus on the rest of the kids and what they needed from her.

She knows now that she could've done more. That she should've been glad Ian was with Mickey instead of some guy who was old enough to be his father, who there'd been far too many of without any of them stopping to question what the hell those men were doing with their brother. She should have fought to bring him home when he ran off to the army the same way she fought to bring Lip home after he dropped out, and she should've done more than turn a blind eye when he started working at clubs and came home skinny, high out of his mind with eyeliner still smeared around his lashline. She should've carried him to safety, the same way she did that night when it was just the three of them alone in the world for the first time. There was no way she could have done a perfect job at raising all five of the kids - she knows that too - but her heart aches when she thinks of the times Ian slipped through all of their fingers without a safety net to catch him.

She owes Ian, forever her little brother and the only sibling she calls 'sweetface', for not trying to understand him better. For not trying harder to love the only boyfriend who had been there through the first highs and lows without ever turning his back on him. Ian did okay even without those things, she can see as much as she looks around the little apartment. The family photos in frames on the TV stand, the taupe couch with only one stain, the coffeetable with a half-full ashtray she recognises from their old home. He did okay because, despite being a softer kid than any of them had the courage to be, he was strong. She smiles when she spots a wedding picture hung above the TV, Ian and Mickey holding each other's faces like the rest of the world had fallen away at that moment. She wishes she'd been there, will likely wish as much for the rest of her life, but she's here now and has to hope that's enough.

The clattering of dishes pulls her out of her thoughts. She can hear coffee being put to brew, the soft shuffle of socked feet coming from the kitchen. She blinks back the dull ache in her chest and makes her way to the source of the noise, smiling when she sees Mickey leaning against the counter, an unlit cigarette between his lips as he puts two Pop-Tarts in the toaster. He startles at her presence but smiles as soon as he sees her.

"Hey Fi," he greets, setting aside his cigarette and allowing her to hug him hello without a struggle, which is a win for Fiona even if he doesn't really return the touch. He's softer in their new environment she realises, more relaxed than he ever was when he was in the same neighbourhood as his family. She pulls back and gives his arm a squeeze, smiling warmly at the sight of the wedding ring on his finger.

"Hi angelface," she says. Mickey immediately turns to the doorway, looking for something before he freezes and turns his attention back to Fiona, brows drawn tight together as he looks her up and down.

"Thought you were talking to Ian," he mumbles, pulling away from her touch as though to get a better look at her. "Where the fuck did that come from?"

Fiona can't help but laugh, shrugging off her jacket and draping it over the back of one of the chairs at their kitchen table.

"Ian's always been sweetface," she says, watching how Mickey's expression softens as she says that. "I was thinkin' the whole way over that you ought to have a nickname too."

"Y'know, I was doin' fine without one," Mickey grumbles, but the furrow between his brows has disappeared, a half-amused smirk on his lips.

"Count yourself lucky you didn't get one the day he started lookin' at you like you hung the moon and fucking stars," she jokes, which makes him snicker. She thinks back to the days Ian and Mickey were just teenagers wrapped around each other's little fingers, smiling little smiles that they only shared with each other and falling asleep side by side in whatever cramped space was available to them, be it Ian's childhood bed or the worn and torn Gallagher couch. Mickey had been the farthest thing from an angel at the time and he's still pretty far off, but if she could go back she'd have started calling him angelface the second he proved he was in it for the long haul. She takes a deep breath and perches on the edge of the table. "How's he been?"

"Good," Mickey says quickly, not dismissively but confidently, his blue eyes fond as he glances towards the doorway again. "Sleepin' a lot but he's eating and keeping up a routine and all that shit. He"– Mickey hesitates here, eyes darting back and forth between Fiona's face and the floor as a flush climbs his cheeks. –"works real fuckin' hard, y'know? He doesn't want anyone to worry, not like when we were kids. He knows his shit and he fuckin'... He works hard."

Fiona smiles. She does know. Ian's never been half-hearted in anything he cares about, and hearing that he cares about taking care of himself soothes some of the worry that's always going to nag at her, wondering if he's got his head above water.

"Helps that he's got you," she says, giving Mickey some of the long overdue credit she never let him have before. Mickey rolls his eyes and his fingers twitch like he's going to flip her off but ultimately he just pulls out three mugs to pour coffee into. She smiles, recalling how he was with Mandy, bickering and cussing back and forth but always reserving a special kind of sweetness for each other that they didn't share with anyone else in their family. Fiona knows better than anyone that siblings can't be replaced, but him offering her a little of the friendliness he used to reserve for his little sister makes her happy.

"Fi."

Ian's voice, slow and rough with sleep, breaks the comfortable silence in the kitchen. Fiona jumps up and launches herself at her little brother in a tight hug, smiling into his shoulder when he wraps his arms around her.

"I didn't know you were coming over," he mumbles, tucking his face down into her shoulder the same way he used to do back when they were the same height. He has to bend his neck down to do it now, making himself smaller as she brings a hand up to run her fingers through his curls.

"Lip called after you went to sleep, didn't wanna wake you," Mickey explains, voice soft.

Fiona grins as she pulls away from him, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

"Hey, sweetface," she murmurs, pinching his cheek and pulling a whine from Ian. "Forgot how tall you are."

"You were gone for too long," he replies, but there's no hard feelings in his voice. She still thinks about the day she left, visiting him in prison and squeezing his hands tight so she wouldn't forget the warmth of his palms once she let go. His smile, supportive and sad and excited all at once had reflected all of her own feelings and tied her stomach in knots but also grounded her, reminding her that her family would always be here for her to come home to. She kisses his cheek again even though this too makes him whine before finally letting him go.

"Now that you got your own place I'll visit more often," she reassures him. Through the bleary, sleepy expression on his face Ian smiles.

"You better," he jokes, before stepping over to kiss Mickey's cheek. She watches them exchange gentle 'good morning's, Mickey's hand trailing up and down Ian's spine in a way that's so casual, so clearly the norm for them, that she has to look away before she gets teary-eyed.

They sit around the kitchen table, coffee mugs and Pop-Tarts and pills and cigarettes all carefully laid out in front of them. Seeing them go about their lives with her there, mumbling about bills and what they dreamt last night and whether or not the movie they've been wanting to watch will be easy to pirate, is the best gift she's ever received. Lip has his own family, Carl has a great job, Debbie is a better mother than Monica ever dreamed of being, Liam is cleverer than any of them and Ian is doing well. Better than well, even after everything he's been through, after being let down in ways Fiona will never be able to forget. They all did good with what they were given, but it's Ian's life - cozy and safe and domestic - that makes her happiest.

"You're never gonna guess what she fuckin' called me, man," Mickey says suddenly, drawing Fiona's attention back to the present. Ian raises an eyebrow and turns his attention to his big sister, already smiling before she says anything.

"You're sweetface, only makes sense if he's angelface," she defends the sappy nickname, giggling when Ian laughs out loud. Mickey is only slightly less amused, blushing when Ian reaches out to hold his hand.

"Makes sense to me, Mick," he says, which has his husband rolling his eyes.

"Course you'd side with her, fuckin' payback for me siding with Debbie one time, huh?" he mutters, which brings forth another round of teasing from Ian. Fiona listens to them and makes a mental note to ask about Mickey and Debbie later. For now she just steeps in the peace of their apartment, of the life they've carved out for themselves, and breathes a sigh of relief.

[holdmytesseract]

It's Okay To Be Scared [EoH]

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader feat. Teddy Dixon

Summary: A 'slumber party' ends in a distaster for you and your son. Can Daryl save you two?

Warnings: usual twd stuff, walkers, weapons, angst, panic? fluff! Daryl being an amazing dad, age gap

Set in Season 4!

Word Count: 2,5k

a/n: Here we go! 😄 This just randomly popped up in my head, when I watched this scene (I think you'll know which scene I mean.). I had to write it, hehe. ☺️ Also, Teddy's the cutest. I love him. 😍

Divider by my lovely friend @fictive-sl0th <3

Tagging: @km-ffluv @stitchintimefan @sweetpeapod @loz-3 @peaches1958 @fictive-sl0th @lou12346789 @bookofsecretjourneys @azanoni @fuseburner @hotgirlsshareaccounts @in-this-minute

Masterlist

"Mommy?" You turned your head at the sound of your five-year-old son's quiet, hesitant voice urging to your ears. "Hey, bud, what's up?" You smiled at the young boy, squatting down to be on an eye-level with him. The bright sun of Georgia shone through the barred windows of the C-Block, dipping the grey hallway in a soft yellow light. The sunrays got caught in the little boy's brown curls, causing them to shimmer. He may have inherited Daryl's hair colour, but not his actual hair. The kid definitely had your soft curls. Your eyes scanned your son's face and body. From his blue-grey eyes, which resembled his father's, over his little snub nose and rosy cheeks, all the way down his slightly too big clothes. His black t-shirt fitted him perfectly, but the jeans vest was definitely too big, just like his tattered and ripped jeans. You had to smile. He looked so much like his dad. Speaking of... "Where did you leave your daddy, huh? I thought you wanted to help him outside, checking the fences?" You wouldn't have let him join his dad, if you weren't aware that the boy was in the safest hands possible. He nodded, but looked at you with a sad and angsty expression. "Y-Yes, but... There were so many m-monsters, I-I got scared." Your expression softened, before you pulled the boy into a hug, "Oh baby..." and kissed his head.

It hadn't been easy for Teddy to understand, that the world was suddenly different now. Dangerous. Scary. He had been still a toddler when the world went to shit, but that didn't make it easier to explain. Why there was so much blood and death. Why there were suddenly scary looking people, who wanted to literally eat him. You and Daryl had a hard time adjusting Teddy to all of this. He had already seen so much. Things a kid should never see, but you couldn't change it. It wasn't in your hands. You never wanted this life for him, but it was how it was now.

Teddy looked up to his dad, of course, saw how Daryl helped the group, got food on the table and so on. His dad was his hero, without a doubt - and he wanted to be just like him. Be just as brave and fearless. The problem? Teddy was, after all still a child - and got scared very easily. Something he inherited from you. You were just the same, especially as a child and quite often even today. Some might say Teddy was a bit all bark and no bite - what you thought was quite cute. It was okay for him to be a child. He had to grow up into a man soon enough...

"You know that it's okay to be scared, yes? Always remember that, because being scared helps us sometimes. It's important." Teddy cuddled closer against your chest, both little arms wrapped tightly around you. "I-I know, but daddy's never scared..." You backed up from the hug, shaking your head. "Oh he is, Teddy. He's very good at hiding it." You said, running your hand through his long hair. It reached almost his shoulders by now. You could've cut it, of course, but Teddy looked way too sweet with longer hair. The boy nodded, although visibly not entirely convinced by your words and shuffled his feet nervously. "What was it you wanted to ask me, sweetie?" You decided to change the topic, distracting your son's mind from the walkers. It seemed to do the trick. Teddy smiled softly. "Can I stay at Nick's cell tonight?" Nick - one of the Woodbury kids and now Teddy's best friend. "Of course, bud. Does Nick's mama know?" Again, the boy nodded. "Uh.Huh... Nick said he's goin' to tell her." "Perfect." You smiled at him and stood up again. "Now go out play, while the sun's still out. I saw Patrick and Carl playing soccer outside. Maybe you can join, huh?" Teddy nodded, but tugged nervously on the red bandana around his neck, which his daddy had gifted him. There was something else occupying his mind. You could tell. "Is there something else, sweetie?" Once more he nodded, blue-grey eyes meeting yours again. "Can you, uh, stay with me tonight, mommy?" "At Nick's?" "Uh.Huh..." You smiled softly, tucking a few wild curls behind his ear. "I thought you are such a big boy already?" "Y-Yes, but... Please mommy..." Teddy looked at you with big, pleading eyes - and suddenly, you had a guess. "Are you having nightmares again?" The little boy nodded, grimacing, in order to suppress his tears. He tried so hard to be strong. "Oh no, I'm so sorry. Come here, baby." You opened your arms for Teddy again. An offer he took gladly. You lifted him up in your arms, not caring that he got pretty heavy for you to lift meanwhile. A few silent tears wetted your t-shirt. Teddy was plagued by nightmares almost regularly. He always had a hard time sleeping peacefully, but since the death took over the world, it became even harder for him - which was understandably. And whenever he woke up at night, afraid and crying from another nightmare, the only way to help Teddy was his dad. When Daryl wasn't here, you tried to help your son as well, but nobody was as helpful as his daddy.

"I'm coming with you tonight, okay?" Another nod. Teddy wasn't a child of many words - just like another important man in your life was. His small tear-stained cheeks glistened in the sun, causing your heart to ache. You knew exactly what you had to do now. "C'mon." You adjusted him on your arms, before you left the C-Block and made your way through the corridors out on the yard, eyes searching for your husband. Luckily, you found him pretty quick. He was preparing for the run he was about to go on, with Sasha, Glenn, Tyreese, Bob, Zack and Michonne. Daryl saw you approaching him, of course and was immediately alerted, since you were carrying Teddy. He wiped his dirty hands on a rug, stood up and met you on your way. "Hey, babe." Daryl looked at you and his boy, concerned. "Wha' happened?" "Nightmares," you mouthed, which was enough information for Daryl. He didn't need to know more. He placed a hand on the boy's back. "Hey, buddy, c'mere." Teddy didn't let himself tell that twice, unlocked his arms from around your neck and wrapped them around his father's, clinging to him for dear life. You gave Daryl a sorrow look, causing him to lean over to you and place a quick kiss on your cheek, "I got it." before he turned around and walked away with Teddy in his arms. Guess the run had to wait...

"Alright, baby, I'm going now, okay?" Daryl nodded from where he laid in the bed of the cell your small family shared, hands crossed behind his head. "Ya really wanna leave me alone tonight?" He almost pouted, causing you to giggle softly. Teddy wasn't your only child sometimes. "You know that Teddy asked me to, but you can join if you want." He scoffed at your words. "Nah, wouldn't wanna interrupt your girl's night." You giggled again and stepped over to him, in order to kiss him. "Love you." "Love ya, too." "Sleep tight, see you tomorrow." Daryl nodded, pulling you in for another kiss. "See ya." You grabbed your things, blew him a kiss and left the cell, tiptoeing down the dark corridors to cell block D. Little did you know, that staying with Teddy that night in the D-block was going to end in a disaster. A deathly disaster.

That night, you slept way too tight, to hear the soft snarling and growling of the polite and kind young man Patrick had once been, nor the heavy, slurping footsteps which passed the empty cell you were sleeping in, right beside the cell Teddy was sleeping in with Nick and Anne - his mom. You were completely exposed to the threat, lurking in the shadows of the night - but you didn't know it. Nobody knew it.

Daryl had been up quite early that day, just like Rick and Carl. He had just slipped into his beige shirt with the torn off sleeves, as he heard a loud noise ringing through the corridors, causing everyone which was still asleep to wake up - without a doubt. He furrowed his brows. It sounded like a... gunshot! Without hesitation, the archer grabbed his crossbow and stormed out of the cell, just like several others. Carol for example. "What was that?!" "Sounded like a gunshot." "Where from?!" Just after the words had left Carol's mouth, another gunshot was echoing through the walls. The answer of Carol's question was quickly answered, causing the man's eyes to widen and heart to run a hundred miles per hour. The D-Block. It came, without a doubt from the D-Block. "It comes from the D-Block." Daryl breathed out, before he started to run like a mad man, straight towards the block; Carol following him.

The scene he walked into wasn't one he hadn't seen before and yet it scared the shit out of him, because he knew that his wife and son were somewhere in the middle of it... There was blood everywhere. Dead and bitten men and women laid on the floor. The still living people ran around in panic, trying to flee from the walkers, which were trying to get another bite out of the people. There were screams and cries everywhere. "Shit!" The archer cursed, his mind immediately wandering to you and Teddy. He desperately hoped that the both of you were alright. Without wasting another second, he threw himself into the fray, killing every walker on his way. "Teddy! Y/N!" He screamed out, eyes frantically scanning his surroundings. It wasn't easy to overlook this chaos. "Daryl!" He heard Rick shouting at him. "I got it!" Signalling him, that he had the door situation under control. Not that Daryl cared about this in that moment. All he cared about was you and his son. Nevertheless, he gave Rick a short, hasty nod, before he continued his search.

"Teddy! Y/N!" He screamed from the top of his lungs through the loud noise. "Daddy!" Daryl heard a child scream out - his child. He would recognise Teddy's voice everywhere. "Teddy!" He yelled again, looking around to find him and point out where the voice was coming from. To his sheer luck he found him - just in time. The boy sat on the ground, crouched into a corner, crying, with a walker stumbling straight into his direction. Daryl's eyes widened in shock, but nevertheless he reacted fast, ran over and rammed his knife in the back of the walker's head, carelessly throwing the dead body aside. "Teddy!" The archer fell to his knees in front of his son, pulling his small, trembling body immediately close to his. "Are you okay?!" Daryl's eyes scanned Teddy's body for any bites or injuries. The small boy nodded, yes, and clung to his father, still crying. Daryl held him close to his body with his free arm, standing up again. "Teddy, where's your momma?!" "I-I dunno." Cried Teddy. Once again, Daryl looked around frantically, still not able to find you - but he found Carol. "Carol!" His best friend turned to face him. "Can ya take Teddy somewhere safe? I-I gotta find Y/N!" Carol nodded, of course, took the boy immediately in her arms. "You go with aunt Carol, okay? I'll go, find momma." Teddy cried even more, but let himself got carried out of danger from Carol. It broke Daryl's heart to leave his son like that, but he had to find you. "Y/N!" He ran to check the cells, killing another walker on his way. Remembering, that Nick's and Anne's cell was on the second floor, he was quick to run up the stairs, checking the upper cells as well. "Y/N!" "Daryl?!" He heard your voice calling out immediately, causing relief to wash over him. You were alive. He found you locked up in a cell, with a dead walker to your feet and another one in front of the barred door, trying to get its filthy hands on you. Daryl was quick to get disposed of the walker and opening the cell door with shaky hands. "Daryl!" You cried out, running into his arms. You were utterly rattled, covered in blood. "You okay, sunshine?!" Daryl asked you, strong arms keeping you close to his body. "Y-Yes, b-but I lost Teddy. I-I don't know where he is!" You cried, sobbing into your husband's shirt. "W-What if he's dead! Oh g-gods!" You felt how your knees gave in, but Daryl caught you. He immediately shook his head, trying to comfort you. "Hey, hey, hey, Y/N, stay with me, 's alright. I found him. He's alright. He's with Carol." "O-Our baby's o-okay?" "Yes, sunshine. He's safe. Teddy's safe." "O-Oh thank g-god... I-I was so afraid of him, b-but I couldn't leave to search for him. T-This walker had me trapped a-and- oh gods..." "Shh, shhh, it's okay, 'm here." Daryl's calming voice urged to your ears, despite the loud noise. "We gotta get you outta here." He said, before hoisting you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style down the corridor, the stair and past Rick. "You got this?!" Rick nodded. Glenn had joined the chaos as well in the meantime. "We got it! Look after your family!" Daryl gave Rick a thankful nod, before he left the horrendous scene and took you back to the C-Block.

The archer laid you down on the bed in your shared cell, before he called out for his friend. "Carol?" No minute later, she approached with a still shaking Teddy in her arms. "Did you find her?" Daryl nodded, taking Teddy back in his arms. "Thank god. She alright?" "Yeah, jus' quite rattled." Carol nodded in understanding. "I'll go, take care of the other survivors." "Thanks." "No need to thank me," she said, giving Daryl a small smile, before she left.

"Daddy... Where's mommy?" His son asked, voice trembling. "She's here, buddy. She's okay. We are all okay, alright? Everything's goin' ta be fine." His words seemed to calm down the boy a bit, but not as much as being back in his mother's embrace. Daryl stayed with you and Teddy for a long while, even after the boy had passed out from all the exhaustion, sleeping tightly. Hopefully without having nightmares...

Now Daryl sat behind you on the bed, while you leaned against his chest, hands intertwined. "What happened?" The archer asked in a quiet voice, eyes trained on the sleeping Teddy. You shrugged your shoulders. "I don't know, honestly. I was sleeping and suddenly I heard those screams. I got up quickly, looked outside - and there were walkers everywhere. People we knew, suddenly turned. Then everything became chaotic. I tried to react and look for Teddy, but then there were those two walkers..." You said, shaking your head at the vivid memory. "Do you know what happened? What caused this? Did Rick say something?" "Not yet, but we're gonna find out."