#baby I’m getting them amc points

[watmalik]

Going to see Deadpool and Wolverine in IMAX…again…for reasons!🙂‍↔️🙂‍↕️

[little-reader]

Woody Chp. 2

Masterlist

Carl Grimes x Male!Reader

If you were unaware, this is the second season of "The Son Of A Monster." You may not understand the following if you haven't read the first season. Thank you.

Warnings; SHORT MASTERBATION SCENE, Graphic Gore, Death, blood, Slow-burn, Sexual tension, homosexual relationship (If you didn't know), Cursing, Negan is the Readers dad, Enemies to lovers story. Fighting. Zombie Apocalypse. (The Walking Dead TV show)AMC rights, I do use the storyline and some scenes.

Carl ended up in the woods, a bag in his hand with water and food. He snuck out, there weren’t many people at the gate, so it wasn’t hard. He took the usual path when scouting out they would take a safe route, least walkers. He would just need to get back to the gas station he and his dad were near. He was then going to head into the woods, scope it out, and see if the man was really what he thought.

His feet crunched under his boots. Rick left that morning, by himself. The kingdom was ambushed, giving them limited personnel. Maggie wasn’t sure what they were going to do with the saviors, Aaron had a baby to look over,  and so far, they were winning. Negan hadn’t given up yet, even though he was surrounded completely by snipers and walkers. Carl wasn’t sure why they didn’t back down. He thought they were stupid for doing so, but nowadays, who wasn’t stupid?

Carl crossed very few walkers before he made it to the section of the woods near the gas station. He was able to avoid them, some trail, and got bored once he picked up his pace. 

The section was surrounded by trees and forest, allowing the man to get privacy and somewhat safety. Carl could tell this was it, there were two man-made human-sized toothpicks. 

His feet crept slowly, as the walker reached for a bag up high. He barely waited behind the tree, where he saw the man from before. He crept slowly and stabbed the knife into the walker's head, killing it there. Carl knew, or thought, that was the best time to make himself known. He took a slightly hesitant step, and gave a calm “Hey”, out to the man, who glanced in shock.

Carls hands wavered, and lifted, showing an empty hand and one with a bag in it. He took small steps, watching for roots but keeping an eye out. The man across from him stood in warning, nervous by the stranger. “I was my dad, they were warning shots above your head.” He said, still creeping closer, with a calm expression. He was trying to gain the man's trust or have the man not try to shoot him. It was time for him to introduce himself, this would allow him to bond, just a little, with the man. “Wasn’t shooting at you… I’m Carl.”

The man still didn’t fully let his guard down. He looked tired, hungry, and sweating nervously as he held his knife to his side, but pointed at Carl like he was a threat. He shifted on his feet, taking a slight step and glancing around looking for a way out or possibly more people. He pointed to himself, “Siddiq.” He said, a waver in his voice. 

Carl looked down at the bag, still slowly approaching, and handed it out. “Food and water.”

Siddiq looked confused, his eyebrows pushing together. “Why?”

Carl breathed in, stopping. “I guess, you were talking about something your mom said. About helping people?.” Carl paused and licked his lips. “My mom told me that you gotta do what's right. It’s hard to know what that is sometimes, but sometimes it's not.” Carl took a big step, then threw the bag to the man, still allowing a safe distance from him. 

The bag landed two feet from Siddiq. He looked down, up, and then basically crawled to it. Carl could tell what the man was going through, especially being alone out here, and either being too scared to look for food or being weak and unequal to fight for it.

The man quickly got the bottle of water opened, and gulped it, as some of it ran down his hands. He took a breath and put it down. “Thanks.” 

Carl smiled and nodded. “Glad I found you.”

“You went looking for me?” Siddiq asked, standing up, but still keeping distant. 

“Yeah, I scavenged the sardines and other stuff.” He paused once again, thinking over his words. “Me and my dad were in a community. I’m gonna ask you a few questions.” He needs to know if he really wants to bring the man with him. He started to, slowly, walk toward the man. “I need you to answer honestly, okay?” Siddiq gave the nod, and a short “Okay”, before he continued. “How many walkers have you killed?” There was no answer. “I know it's hard to-”

“237.” Siddiq breathed out, interrupting Carl.

Carl's head tilted with a surprised look, a slight grin on his face, “Really?” Siddiq looked at the walker he just killed, and replied. “Give or take a couple.” Carl continued with the questions. “How many people have you killed?” 

Siddiq swallowed. “One.” 

“Why?”

“Dead tried to kill him but… they didn’t.”

Carl nodded, peering at the ground. “You're making walker traps. Is that how you killed so many?” He questioned, gesturing to the trap, where the dead walker lay.

“It's only part of it… My mom thought, or hoped that killing them would free their souls.” Carl understood that. How, at first, people thought the person was still there. That they saw what they were doing, and wished they weren’t. “You know… maybe she was right.”

“Doing that, doesn’t it make things harder for you while you try to survive?” Carl asked, taking a step closer. 

“I, I don’t know, I… you got, you got to honor your parents, right?” Siddiq stated, giving his answer to why he was doing what he did.

“If I was honoring my dad, we wouldn’t be talking right now.” Carl joked, with a smile. “Or…” He thought about a week beforehand. About letting him go. His smile dropped. “I definitely wouldn’t be bringing you back to my community.” Siddiq looked at him in shock.

That's when they started to walk. He allowed Siddiq to grab his things and pack, even though he didn’t have much, and they set off. The night was approaching in only a few hours, and the fog started to set. It made it harder to see where he was going, but he knew the path well enough to get home. If he could get home, it was a known rule not to go out of the walls in fog because you couldn’t tell where a walker would come from.

Still, they walked on, stepping over logs without tripping, and up a hill when they heard the gargling from afar. They crouched down and tiptoed down the hill, stopping at a tree where they could see the walkers ripping apart an animal, blood covering them and the ground. 

“Hey,” Carl looked at Siddiq and took out his knife. “For your mom.” He stood from his spot and they both went towards the small herd, knives in hands. Carl carried his bookbag off of his back and sat in by a tree as they got closer. 

That was when one of the walkers turned and stood, catching the other's attention. They all saw the two and stumbled for the two, teeth and claws ready. Siddiq was able to kill the first one fine until another came right after. It took Carl a bit to kill the first as more started to follow. Carl wasn’t going to back down. He wanted trust, and he was going to earn it. 

Carl went to help Siddiq but was pushed into another walker. The walker was able to push him down onto the animal corpes, getting too close for comfort as he tried to push it away. His eyes widened as another came closer. Carl pushed the first walker off of him, for another to fall on him. The first, crawled to him, grabbing his clothes, the walker had his mouth an inch away. He knew in a second he couldn’t get the walker off on time.

Suddenly, Siddiq was pulling the walker off of him with a knife in the other. This allowed Carl to breathe faster than a car. His heart raced, and his eyes watered, but not to the point of crying. Carl wished a different boy was pulling that thing off of him. His hand clutched his shirt as Siddiq held his hand out.

Carl saw a slight image flash in his mind. It was not the hand of Siddiq, but nonother than Y/n fucking Smith. He wished. Full heartedly wished. The smile, the white teeth, the stupid fucking smirk, and the one closed eye due to the sun. But in the blink of an eye, reality hit again. The scared, blood-covered man in front of him, not his partner.

... A week ago

Bullets rang. He was on his knees one second, the next moving out of the line of fire as the war started, really started. It felt like slow motion. The movements, voices, and bangs around him.

He felt blood dripping from his temple where he slammed his head, making sure not to get shot. It was not going as planned. “Shit,” Y/n muttered, feeling the warmth on the side of his head.

He knew the plan well, and getting out of the shooting line was his priority. He felt the mud push under his fingernails as he crawled on his hands and knees, making sure to keep his backpack safely on. 

Y/n was able to make it to a wall, where the gate was kept. He had a choice, jump over it and dodge the biters on the other side, get in one of the cars without getting shot, or get eaten by the mob of biters Dixion was bringing down the freeway.

“Fuck. Motherfucker.” He cursed, looking at the cars leaving. His thoughts rolled. He had no other choice. He jumped the long gate, hitting the wires at the top, The wires slid down his face and cut through his shirt. “Ahhhh, shit.” He whispered and yelled, stomping his feet. He felt the burn on his face and arm as he secured his bag and ran for the hills.

Y/n had made it a mile into the woods before stopping. The pain wasn’t extreme, but it still hurt like a bitch. The gash on his arm wasn’t too bad, enough for him to get home fine but continued to bleed. “I'll be fine.” He whispered to himself, sighing. He remembered his backpack and grabbed it off his back. The med kit was safely placed in the side pocket. There were no bandages, and he wasn’t going to waste his time on making a line of bandaids. 

He sighed and placed the kit back in the bag. He would just have to hit one of the houses. And the closest safe house was only a mile and a half. “Shit dangerous…dad could come looking for me. They could get out of that mess, they will. That would just put him in danger.” His thoughts were loud as he set off deeper into the woods. 

He had a plan. Lose the tracks. He’d take the longer route just in case someone was able to find him or see him jump the gate. Then he’d make his way back to Alexandria. 

His feet stepped along the roots and dead leaves, making his way through the autumn air. It was getting colder and the only thing he had, was a thin shirt on. The house wasn’t so far, and he would be able to make it. That's how he kept his thoughts, golden.

Y/n whistled as he went, the little toon his mother once sang to him. The toon was light, and calming in opposition to his current situation. The whistling allowed him to slip away from the world, and forget about what happened, or forget the very situation he was in. He could hear his mother singing it. He could feel the sway of the rocking chair and the slight breeze of the porch breeze. Then the smell of rain, the drip drop on the AC unit, once helping him sleep, is now a nightmare to hear. 

Once, Negan, his mother, and he went on a trip to North Carolina, to see a War ship, it rained that day. They stopped nearby and grabbed a bottle that had a ship in it. He remembers sitting on the porch staring at it as it floated in the fake water, and moved with each shake but failed to never sink. His mother would say, “You are that boat, and you will forever be that boat.” Y/n never understood what she meant, he just stared at her, then right back at the ship with a smile. 

Those fond memories of the old world. The smell of his baseball games. The soil he slid onto, the mud that would track his clothes, shoes, and body. The icepacks or frozen peas his mother would gently apply on his bruises after each game as she praised her son for doing a good job, relating him to his father. The proud smile on both his parent's faces, as he hit his first home run, racing for the hills as his name was hollered by Y/n’s teammates. 

Before Y/n knew it, he was in front of the home, with his hand reaching into his back pocket to fetch the key. 

His arm still bled as he entered the house, not troubling himself to care as he made his way to the bathroom down the hall. He flashed on the lights, squinting as he looked up into the mirror, jerking at his reflection. He couldn’t exactly tell whose blood was on him, his, or someone else. However, there was a gash riding from the side of his chin to the start of his cheek. He realized the wound wasn’t too large, but it was the main cause of bleeding. Y/n searched through the medicine cabinet and used a cloth to wrap around his arm before laying out his supplies on the counter. He sat on the toilet, taking a cotton swap and gradually cleaning up the bloodied mess on his arm, wincing every occasional minute. The man skillfully sewed up the wound, the needle and thread gliding effortlessly through the flesh. With the task finished, he then moved on to carefully tending to his injured chin.

He made his way upstairs, not bothering to clean up his mess or the clutter he had made.

As he laid his head down on the pillow, which allowed him to sink in, he felt the weight of the past days lifting off his shoulders. The softness of the pillow provided a comforting embrace, easing the tension in his body as he closed his eyes. He kicked his shoes off, feeling the freedom of letting go of the day's conditions. With each deep breath, he felt himself slipping into a peaceful state of mind, leaving behind the rush and groan of the outside world. It was in this moment of quiet that he found comfort, in his bed, as it began to pass noon and go into the evening.

He felt himself sigh and roll over. His hand slid under his pillow, bringing out the small stack of papers. He moved them around until he found the picture of him and his mother. He ran his thumb over it, the corner of his mouth turning up. That smile reflected her own, the ice cream in her hands melted slightly. 

He could feel the slight ache of his arm, and chin, and the healing stab wound. With that slightly uncomfortable sting, he shifted back onto his back, staring at the roof, the old mold that dried out on the cracks that were engraved into the ceiling. Another thing to fix. 

Y/n moved his fingertips along his torso, making it ticklish in a way. His eyes closed as his other hand wiped down his face, feeling the prick of his forming beard, and entangled into his hair. He needed a shower, not that he could smell himself, even though he was probably used to the smell either way. 

He felt his fingers stop at the crack of his shirt, where his skin poked out from the stretch. He opened his eyes and sighed before moving his hand down, and slowly grabbing himself through his pants. One thing he was taught, don’t let your guard down when alone. He assured himself it was a fine, day, and he could hear outside. He swallowed, covering one side of his face with his hand, and rubbing himself with a groan.

⁶He breathed in, taking his hand to his face and spitting on his palm, then slipped his hand into his pants, and below his boxers as another groan fell from his mouth. His hand wrapped around his dick with a whine. Now, speaking of how he literally just got out on the verge of death, though he really didn’t care, it was a bit weird. He put it off. 

The room was filled with quiet groans and grunts as his palm lifted up, and then back down in a repeating movement. He could imagine Carl doing it, which he did. But he knew Carl was young, inexperienced, and a bit dumb, but who was he to talk?

He closed his eyes, imagining Carls had, a lot softer than his, but still rough in their own way. The nervousness, the hesitation, the slight stutter he had at certain points. It was cute, and hot at the time.

He swallowed a groan and pumped himself faster feeling the whine in the back of his throat. “Mother of fucking mary.” The curse fell from his lips as he gripped himself and groaned, head pushing back into the pillow and his teeth barring a grunt that shoved from his throat. Y/n bit into his tongue before it left his mouth and let another groan into his arm.

He would have melted under Carl's touch then and there. He let a moan slip from his mouth as he hit his peak. Stroking a few more times before letting go, panting breaths “Jesus.” He muttered, under his breath, feeling slightly embarrassed by how long he lasted. “You're a cunt.” He said to himself as he shifted in the bed and made himself comfortable.

He stared up at the ceiling, his finger circling his stomach. “What am I gonna do.” he groaned, finally closing his eyes.

--

@stiveroon

@ritospart

[disregardcanon]

amc iwtv the birdcage 1996 au. It’s still set in the mid nineties. Our young couple looking to get married is comprised of claudia and madeline. But how could our pair of lovely ladies get married in such a way that would get the conservative senator parents to agree in the nineties? How would they even be able to do it legally?

Madeline is a trans woman who plans to come out after she and claudia graduate college, and then establish themselves and their careers far away from HER parents, who are influential not in the united states but in quebec… because madeline must be french, you see. There can’t be a madeline who isn’t french. 

She and claudia go to college together in new orleans (where grace still lives so claudia has some family support in the area). madeline studies fashion and claudia studies black history and american ethnic studies. She’s probably going to law school later. 

Madeline, for her part, has known that she’s trans for quite a few years and does plan to transition when it’s safer for her to do so. However… She also really really wants to live with claudia and knows that at the moment, the only way to make that happen is getting “straight” married. While it will hurt madeline and claudia both to have a “traditional” wedding where madeline has to be “the man”, it IS their only legal option and it’s going to be incredibly good for them to just.. Be able to do it now and live together for their last year and a half of college. 

In this version of the story, Madeline’s parents, actually, don’t need an inciting incident to approve of their “son” getting married, despite any qualms about the fiance being Black and American. Their fashion major “son” wants to get married to a WOMAN! They can finally point at this process and prove that “he” is “straight”! That’s all they’ve wanted for years! And sure her french isn’t very good (certainly not quebecois) but she knows some! That’s more than most americans. They can work with that. 

The Eparvier parents agree the moment that it’s pitched to them. What makes them decide it must happen right now immediately, however, is another disaster for a conservative politician. I won’t specify what happens because it doesn’t REALLY matter and the reason it happens in the movie is… jarring in an otherwise fun little movie. Know that it’s suitably White Upper Crust Awful enough of a reason that they’ll decide that they have to drive all the way from Quebec City to San Francisco and makes the “meeting Claudia’s parents” so much of a time sensitive thing. 

Meeting claudia’s parents is going to be… complicated. Louis, of course, owns and operates a swanky drag club called the birdcage. Lestat is the star drag queen there. 

Biologically, claudia is the result of the single time that louis tried to force himself to be straight with his dear friend lily. It… did not work. However! They both decided that they wanted a baby in some capacity so she decided to keep it. Louis would her sole guardian and Lily would pop in sometimes in a cool aunt capacity. When claudia was about five louis started seeing lestat and lestat and louis was a little hesitant to go all in with the relationship immediately and he became “uncle les” even as lestat moved in and very clearly took on the role of the second parent. 

Claudia still calls him uncle les at this point, but she knows also knows he’s her other dad. She comes home to visit and update the news from “I have this lovely girlfriend!” to i’m going to get “straight” married to my lovely girlfriend, also her parents are conservative politicians so we need to work out a strategy for this… but by the time she’s said her hellos to her dads and friends and settled into her bedroom the phone is ringing and the caller ID says “EPARVIER” she picks up the phone… to the very unfortunate news that madeline’s family is about to drive the entire fucking way from Quebec City to san fran for an impromptu engagement dinner. 

She estimates that it’ll take three and a half days, tops. Her dad’s worked up a quick itinerary with a stop close to Chicago for a hotel stay, then one near cheyenne wyoming and then a straight shot to san fran. These are VERY long days but like. The eparviparents are desperate. They’re getting their kid engaged in an acceptable way and it’s going to delete public perception of The Scandal

The journalist tailing them for a story is NOT daniel, because daniel has many flaws but “tabloid reporter who would out a family for profit” is not one of them. He’s a different journalist who finds out what the situation is and then goes oh god oh shit how do i keep these vultures away from my niece and her girlfriend?

Claudia is desperately trying to figure out how to get her family to pretend to be Straight as Boards and Cultured in a Respectable to Racist Rich White People Way because dear god she just wants to get married to her girlfriend and be done with this situation. 

Louis tries his best to accommodate all of this, but it’s… hard. His baby girl wants him to pretend to be straight for not only this engagement dinner they have to throw together over the course of a few days, but for the duration of a wedding and then however long it takes for the two of them to escape the eparviparents’ hold. And then of course louis and the folks at the birdcage are going to be the ones that the eparviparents are interrogating and coming after when claudia and madeline disappear off the face of the earth. 

This is going to have far reaching consequences! But claudia really wants this, and she isn’t actually ashamed of them! She’s gay and once she’s safe she and madeline will live their best gay lives. Pretending again for a bit won’t kill him… right? 

But, uh… how do you get lestat to look straight, even if she already calls him “uncle”?  Looking at how good they were at pretending back in the NINETEEN TEENS? Not at all. Like louis maybe… can pretend… by virtue of just being so Inside Himself, even after coming out and coming to terms with himself… but lestat? Especially a lestat who’s a proud and happy drag performer? It’s gonna be hard. 

So the idea is just… cutting lestat out entirely? Just like in the movie? It causes some very sad fighting and then some sad-funny Louis Tries To Teach Lestat How To Pretend to Be Straight and then when lestat finally gets so upset about his family wanting to cut him out entirely… louis drops the palimony announcement. (if i die, all of this is going to you. I know we can’t get married because it’s the nineties but this is as close as we can get. You’re my husband in all the ways that matter. You’re my daughter’s other father. I love you you absolute drama queen. You french disaster. my hurricane of a husband-) 

Lily still lives in the area and claudia convinces her to come to the dinner and pretend that she and louis are married. (it’s just a temporary thing, just a means to an end, it shouldn’t MATTER!) 

The full plan for the dinner 

Degaying the house

Delefting the house

Lily pretending to be Louis’s lawfully wedded wife who has been Claudia’s second legal parent this whole! Time!

Claudia lying about her major and her interests and her background

A dinner with friends and people from the bar pretending to be in-house employees.  Like oh yeah we’re rich! We keep a staff i guess? 

The friends are mainly just armand.  Armand isn’t their house boy but when the opportunity to play a butler in this weird play claudia’s making up presents itself he is ALL fucking in. he is Rashiding it up in this bitch. He’s very clearly NOT a butler but for different reasons than the guy in the movie. This is because he says stuff like “electronic mail” and “the situational comedies that they play on network television” and the only modern things he can bring up are melissa ethridge and the musical rent. You know! Totally heterosexual conversational topics! 

Daniel is mainly playing crowd control to keep their assortment of Dear Queer Friends away and keeping an eye out for the paps. 

The plan goes tits up immediately. The paps get… very very close. They don’t get a photo proving that Senator Eparvier just went into Famous Gay Nightclub The Birdcage, but.. Lily gets stuck in some atrocious traffic. Claudia, Louis, and Armand as Rashid are absolutely drowning in the Rich White People Bullshit of it all… and then drag queen lestat pops in. 

AND FUCKING KILLS IT! Lovable! Hilarious! Exactly what the doctor ordered! Yes, they end up discovered by the eparviparents by the end of it… but they all have such a lovely little time. Claudia ends up declaring lestat her dad and madeline is able to say that she IS going to marry this girl and thinks her family is lovely. Her parents try their hardest to usher her out until daniel blocks the door like “ARE YOU CRAZY!?!?! Your fucking canadian paps are out there. Do you want them to get your picture like this?” and then they get the quebec politician and his wife out of the bar undetected through the use of Drag Makeup and Deception! 

The parents come to terms with claudia’s family… existing, at least. It’s far from the point where madeline can come out (it’s the nineties) but the eparviparents are okay with the wedding. They offer to pay despite tradition about the “groom’s” family not to try to dictate it being in a more traditional setting, and louis lets them because he and lestat don’t want to accidentally out their future daughter in law or cause a bigger fuss than necessary. 

The straight laced quebec politicians and their family attend the wedding with a bunch of queers of color and then we end on “girls just wanna have fun” as the girls kiss and dance. We’re not quite there yet, but like… it’s close. The people who matter will still be around in the aftermath

[the-name-is-z]

SKELETONS | ch. 60

daryl dixon x f!oc

masterlist

a03 link

Summary: The group begins to settle into Alexandria, getting used to the community. Something strange appears in the forest outside. Warnings/Information: AMC's The Walking Dead OC Insert | 18+ Advised | strangers to lovers; the slowest of slow burns; gore; angst; horror; humour; m/f; domestic bliss; performative participation; creepy corpse mutilation

Chapter 60 - Alexandria

Iris walked down the street with the others, somewhat spread like walkers in a small swarm. Deanna advised them to explore, say hello to their new neighbours and companions get to know people. Daryl refused, sitting on the front porch with his crossbow, knees hugged to his chest. He watched Iris go, feeling the stabbing pain in his chest. It felt like something between hope and regret. 

Iris walked with Carl, smiling softly as he pushed his sister in a stroller they were given. Judith was smiling and happy, even giggling at the faces Iris was making at her.

“Oh my goodness, well look at you.” An older woman cooed from her front porch. 

“What’d you find, Nat?” An old man asked, walking up and putting a hand at her back. Their faces depicted their shock at the sight of the baby, and Iris smiled and waved.

“Hello.” She called. “I’m Iris, this is Carl and Judith.”

“Well, hello dear! Please, come up into the shade, its so hot outside.” The woman beckoned, taking a seat on their porch. Carl parked the stroller at their steps, walking over and allowing the elderly couple to fawn over his little sister.

“I’m Natalie Miller, and this is my husband Bob.” The woman introduced. Iris smiled warmly. “Its been so long since we’ve seen such a little one.” She cooed, playing with Judith’s toes. Iris nodded in understanding. “You must have been so young when you had him. Such a handsome young man.” She patted Carl on the shoulder.

“Iris is our godmother.” Carl explained. “My mother died when Judy was born. My dad is… over there.” Carl pointed, and Iris turned to see a frantic Rick half-jogging down the street behind Jessie. Iris waved calmly and he raised a hand back, taking a deep breath. He came over, urging Carl to go meet with Ron, Jessie’s son. Iris dutifully passed Judith back to her father, bid the Miller’s goodbye and made her way down the street once more.

-

The second night, Rick still hadn’t slept. The adjustment was hard for all of them. Painful, even. These people were weak, and they couldn’t lose their edge and get comfortable. They had everything, but what happens when someone tries to take it away? Iris got a few hours of shut eye, but it was still pretty hard to rest.

Daryl hissed as he cut his thumb open on the edge of his crossbow. Iris raised an eyebrow as he sucked the blood off and continued messing with it. She looked up as the door closed, her eyebrows shooting up at the sight of Carol. She wore long khaki pants and a button down with a blue cardigan over top. She reminded Iris of the old Carol, the one who was deathly afraid of her fuck-face of a husband. That made Iris scared.

“Time to punch the clock and make the casseroles!” Carol said cheerfully.

“What?” Daryl asked, frowning at her getup.

“Make dinner for the older people— moms who need a break, people who can’t cook. Get to meet a lot of the neighbours that way.” She explained.

“Alright.” Daryl scoffed loudly. Iris pursed her lips, frowning at him before turning to her.

“What’s your angle here?” She asked.

“What? Someone’s gotta do it, be part of the community. Meet the neighbours, play with the kids.” Carol said innocently, shrugging. Iris narrowed her eyes but nodded anyways. Carol turned to Daryl, raising an eyebrow. “Have you taken a shower yet?”

“Uh-huh.” Daryl grunted. Carol narrowed her eyes and shook her head.

“Take a shower. I’m gonna wash that vest. We need to keep up appearances, even you.” Carol insisted. 

“I ain’t starting now.” Daryl called as she started down the stairs.

“I’m gonna hose you down in your sleep!” Carol shot back, practically skipping down the sidewalk. 

“You look ridiculous!” He yelled. Carol grinned, shooting Iris a wink before making her way to wherever it was she was going. Iris chuckled, shaking her head.

The two of them looked up as a man walked up the steps, turning to look at them sheepishly.

“Hey, uh, is there an Iris around here?” He asked, shoving his hands in his pockets. He wore dark jeans and a wife-beater, a red flannel shirt over top. 

“That’d be me.” Iris replied, raising a hand as she pushed to her feet. The man nodded, extending his own hand.

“I’m Preston. I work the garage.” He introduced. “Deanna told me you were a mechanic.”

“Yeah.” Iris nodded. He nodded back.

“Well, I’ll show you the digs, then.” He offered a half grin and Iris nodded, following him down the steps. She looked back, and Daryl offered her a nod of reassurance. They were about fifteen feet down the sidewalk before they heard shouting. Iris recognized Glenn’s voice and took off running, meeting up with Daryl on their way to the gate. Preston brought up the rear.

“It killed our friend!” Aiden, Deanna’s son yelled. He was supposed to be taking Noah, Glenn and Tara on a run today, with Nicholas, the man from the gate. “Look, I’m not having this conversation. You obey my orders out there.”

“Oh, well, then we’re just as screwed as your last run crew.” Glenn snapped in response. Nicholas’ face contorted in anger. Iris and Daryl stepped up slowly, ready to back up Glenn at a moment’s notice.

“Say that again.” Aiden warned softly, close enough to Glenn that they could kiss. 

“Back off, Aiden.” Tara huffed. Aiden’s response was to shove Glenn backward with his hand.

“Come on, man, just take a step back.” Noah added. Aiden shoved Glenn back again.

“Come on, tough guy.” Aiden urged.

“No one’s impressed, man. Walk away.” Glenn warned, his voice lethally low.

“Aiden! What is going on?” Deanna yelled.

“This guy’s got a problem with the way we do things.” Aiden replied confidently. He turned around to face his mother. “Why did you let these people in?”

“Because we actually know what we’re doing out there.” Glenn replied. Aiden reared back to strike Glenn across the face, but he was angry and slow. Glenn ducked effortlessly, jabbing him in the nose, hard.

“Aiden, no! That’s enough!” Deanna yelled. Nicholas surged into action, lunging for Glenn as he sent Aiden to the ground. Daryl tackled him before he could move a foot. Rick and Carl appeared at the gate, immediately running forward. “I said that’s enough!”

“Let’s not do this now.” Rick hissed as he pried Daryl up, keeping him from throttling Nicholas completely.

“You wanna end up on your ass again?” Iris asked with a shit-eating grin as Aiden staggered to his feet. She faced off with him, her hand hovering over a concealed knife, just waiting for him to make the next wrong move.

“I’m cool, alright?” He muttered as he took a step back.

“Daryl.” Rick huffed, yanking him upward and pushing him away. Nicholas coughed, clutching his neck as he hid behind Deanna.

“I want everyone to hear me, okay?” Deanna called loudly as everyone stepped to their sides. It was very us-versus-them and Iris was very conscious of it. “Rick and his people are part of this community now. In all ways, as equals. Understood?” She looked pointedly at Aiden as she said this, and he halfheartedly agreed. Iris yearned to throw him on his ass. “All of you turn in your weapons. Then you two come talk to me.” She ordered, jabbing a finger at Aiden and Nicholas.

Daryl paced in a small circle as the community members dispersed, leaving just their group in a small circle near the gates. Plus Deanna and Preston. Daryl stared daggers after Nicholas.

“I told you I had a job for you.” Deanna said, looking up at Rick. Well, she looked up at everyone. She was a very short lady. “I want you to be our constable. That’s what you were and that’s what you are. And you, too.” She looked to Michonne. “Will you accept?”

“Okay.” Rick agreed after a moment, nodding slowly. Iris raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’m in.” Michonne agreed, smiling softly. She was downright excited. Daryl scoffed loudly, picking up his crossbow and storming away from the group. Iris made to go after him, but Preston stepped in between them, smiling nervously.

“So, uh, the garage?” He asked. Iris sighed, glancing after Daryl before nodding. She had to let him cool off anyways, so the garage it is. 

"Thank you.” Deanna said softly, looking over to Glenn.

“For what?” He asked.

“For knocking him on his ass.” She replied. Maggie smiled at her husband, but Glenn just shook his head and wandered off. 

“Iris?” Preston asked. She blinked, and realized he was waiting for her.

“Right. Sorry.” She shook her head, trying to get out of it. Preston led the way.

-

“This place is fucking mint.” Iris said with wide eyes, looking around at the brand-new garage. Stocked with every kind of tool you could think of, oil, lifts, everything.

“Yeah, it was brand new, opened about a week before it all happened.” Preston explained with a grin as he led her around. “I’ve been managing the supplies, tools and cars we have to fix as it piles up. Had no one that really knows how to use them.”

“No one around here can do an oil change?” Iris asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, sure, but sometimes there are bigger issues. And if you’re thinking it might be easier to just get new cars, wait till you see our inventory.” He led her to a field where they had parked all of their cars, still inside the walls. They had trucks, pickups, military vehicles, sports cars, and motorcycles, plural. 

“Goddamn.” Iris mumbled. She covered her mouth. “Sorry, I might, uh… have trouble holding my tongue.”

“Don’t worry.” Preston chuckled with a wink. “These aren’t virgin ears.” He perked up, as if remembering something. “Oh, speaking of which. Aiden found this a few weeks back and I managed to convince him to keep it here. Most of these places have CD players and whatnot, but I figured this was a good place for it.” He brought her back inside, hauling an old school boombox with a tape deck onto the counter. He then pulled out an old milk crate full of tapes. “Music was kind of my thing, before… yeah.”

“Cool! Definitely better than listening to static while working.” Iris said with a laugh. “Damn, this place might not be so bad.” Preston smiled.

-

“Hey, you’re playing the part, too.” Carol noted, pointing at the already-grease-covered wife-beater and coveralls Iris had donned. It felt so natural it was almost scary.

“Elbow deep in an engine is where I belong.” Iris said with a grin. Daryl scoffed, shaking his head. The three of them stood on the porch, sharing a cigarette. Well, Carol didn’t, but she chatted idly with them. The door opened soon enough, Rick stepping through with his brand new uniform on. He looked… like he did at the beginning.

“We good?” He asked Daryl quietly.

“Yeah.” Daryl grunted. “You a cop now?”

“I’m trying it on for size.” Rick sighed.

“So we’re staying?” Carol asked. Rick sighed again, nodding.

“I think we can start sleeping in our own homes. Settle in.” He explained.

“If we get comfortable here, let our guard down, this place is gonna make us weak.” Carol said, voicing all of their concerns. Everyone in the group had said something similar at this point.

“Carl said that.” Rick agreed, nodding. “But it’s not gonna happen. We won’t get weak. That’s not in us anymore. We’ll make it work. And if they can’t make it… then we’ll just take this place.”

-

“I don’t see it, but it’s close. Just one of ‘em.” Daryl stated. They were outside the walls in the woods, in each of their respective uniforms, standing at an abandoned house beside the junk pile someone left in the yard and died before they could burn.

“So what do you think?” Rick asked.

“We can go in when it’s empty.” Carol stated.

“How is that? It’s locked up at night.” Rick replied.

“The window, it’s just a latch, I can leave it open.”

“A latch?”

“Yeah.”

“What if one of those pricks shuts it?” Daryl asked.

“It’s not as if Olivia’s an ex-marine. It wouldn’t be hard to… you know.” Iris muttered. “In the case of an emergency or otherwise.”

“Can’t just take her out. We could wait a couple of days and leave the latch open again.” Carol shrugged. Iris pursed her lips.

“It’s getting closer.” Daryl stated, pointing out the walker again.

“We need to do it sooner than later.” Rick decided. “Right now, they’re not watching us. Not worrying about meetings like this. We may need the guns, we may not.”

“We will.” Carol assured. “Whatever way it goes.”

“I don’t like this.” Iris mumbled to herself, feeling that deep uneasy feeling in her stomach again.

“It’s necessary.” Daryl replied quietly, his hand hovering between her shoulder blades.

“They’re the luckiest damn people I’ve ever met.” Rick chuckled in disbelief. “And they just keep getting luckier.”

“How’s that?” Daryl asked. Rick shrugged.

“We’re here now.” He said simply. Daryl made a face of approval. 

“They’ve got a couple of foot lockers just full of 9 millimetre autos, Rugers, Kel-Tecs. Just tossed in there. They don’t use them, never gonna know they’re gone.” Carol explained. Iris whistled, shaking her head.

“Someone’s got one now, right?” Daryl stated, looking over at the junk pile. Rick had previously admitted he stashed a pistol in a blender there, only to return later to find it empty.

“Carl said he saw Enid climbing the walls to get outside. It might have been her. He’s been watching her.” Iris explained slowly.

“You sure he’s not watching her for… the other reason?” Carol asked slowly. Rick raised his eyebrow as Iris smirked.

“It’s a little of both.” She replied.

“He tells you this stuff and not me.” Rick complained, shaking his head. “Anyways, the others, we want them to try.”

“You too.” Carol said, pointedly looking at Daryl. 

“So we keep it quiet. Just us.” Rick nodded. He jerked his chin behind Daryl at the walker approaching. “Here it comes.”

“I got it.” Daryl turned, pulling out a thick hunting knife.

“Hey, wait.” Carol called. She brought up her pistol, a silencer screwed onto the end. She closed one eye, firing seven bullets into its chest before one in the forehead. When she turned back to Rick and Daryl’s confused expressions, she rolled her eyes. “We said you were taking me out shooting. I couldn’t go back with a full mag.”

“Lucky he came by.” Daryl replied. Iris grinned happily while Rick shook his head.

“We should get back.” Iris said, glancing down at her watch. Rick nodded.

“You’ll pull the latch, we’ll pick our moment. Us, we don’t need to be lucky.” He said to Carol as they rounded their house, making their way back to the walls. Daryl stopped dead over a fallen walker, kneeling down beside the body. 

“What the hell is that?” He murmured.

“Hm?” Iris asked, stopping beside him. The walker was laid face up, a large ‘W’ carved into its forehead.

“Is that a ‘W’?” Daryl asked.

“Looks like it.” Iris said with a frown. Rick knelt down to get a good look, scowling at it. He stood up and they moved on, but Iris stayed, looking at the carving. It was done postmortem, for sure. And the slice across his stomach, where he had been visibly disembowelled… pre-mortem cause of death. She’d seen enough gang killings to distinguish it. It also seemed an awful lot like Gareth’s hunters and their habits, though perhaps not cannibalistic, considering this man still had all his limbs.

“Iris?” Daryl called.

“Coming.” She replied, pushing to her feet and following after them.

-

TAGLIST:

@heidiland05

@ryoujoking

@catlalice

@maxinehufflepuffprincess

@lowkeyhottho

@fadingpalacebonkpsychic

@hayley1998

@negansbestie

@lizey-thornberry

[averagepolarexpeditionenjoyer]

Pacific, empty plate and seal for the Terror asks!

🌊 (Pacific) - You are the one and only survivor of the expedition. You’ve been rescued, but everyone else has succumbed to their fates. Would you be able to go back to your normal life at any point? Would you be able to live with yourself? Would you tell your story, or take your and your companions’ sins to the grave?

Oh boy. I would not be able to live with myself, but I would have to wouldn’t I? I don’t think I could go back to a normal life. I think I would probably choose Crozier’s route and fake my death, though I might try to venture somewhere warmer.

I would probably write down everything I could remember, so that the stories of all those lost lives wouldn’t be forgotten— but I don’t think I could bear living to see people read it. Survivors guilt is real

🍽️ (Empty plate) - List some characters you think you’d have an interesting dynamic with, if you were on the expedition with them. They don’t all have to be from the same ship, the relationships do not have to be romantic or sexual (but could be!), and for the sake of clarity we’re going off the interpretation of these characters as they exist in the AMC show. Would you fall for anyone? Would they reciprocate? Would you butt heads with anyone? Why?

Oh I would definitely have a very interesting relationship with Commander Fitzjames. I’m pretty terrible with people who put on a show like that, I’d probably be very antagonistic to him until he broke down or was vulnerable. 😭 then I’d feel bad and overcompensate by being too nice

I would be BFFs with Hodgson. I am also very not-normal about linguistics and have trouble following social cues. I also carry an indescribable guilt within me and am not strong enough to fight it. Lowk we’d be balling

GOODSIR ONE CHANCE I COULD ROCK UOUR WORLD AND TAKE SUCH GOOD CARE OF YOU BABYGIRL <333 PLEAAASE 💕🩷💕💕

If I actually met crozier I think I’d be too flustered and intimidated to talk to him lmao. I’d just hit him with the “captain.” head nod and think about him 24/7

🦭 (Seal) - Blatant promo bait question. If you have an AO3, an art tag, or anywhere else you post art related to the Terror, link them! If you don’t do either of those things, link and/or tag some of your favorite artists in the fandom.

AHHHHGGGH I LOVE MY AO3 WORK!!!!!!!!!

I’m working on the newest chapter of the Zookeeper AU now 🤫🤫 when I’m done with it I’m gonna do the Hanahaki idea (or shorten that idea and use it as a break when I need it)

Please please please everyone keep writing terror fics!!!!!! I love reading everyone’s work and I’m so grateful i can contribute to the fandom let’s keep this baby icebound!!!!!!!! ❄️❄️

Thank you so much for the ask!!!! I love getting to yap about The Terror and I love and appreciate you so much bro!!!!!!!!! 💙🩵🤍🩵💙🩵🤍💙🩵🩵

[thevegandarkelf]

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Seven

Masterlist

AO3 link

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, panic attacks, mention of scars, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, alcohol consumption (nothing excessive but Vector does get tipsy to the point she's dizzy)

Word count: 2.3k

“Oh my God, Vector, you have to tell us everything now. Have you talked to him much?” Rosita asked. She was beaming. I was beginning to regret the second glass of wine, let alone the third one in my hand. I set it down on the counter behind me, afraid that if I continued, I’d say some things I didn’t want to share.

“I mean, you know him, he doesn’t really like to talk. Rick sent the two of us on a run this morning. Talked a little bit, but nothing crazy.”

“You were alone with him outside the walls?” Michonne gushed, bouncing Judith up and down on her leg. Even the little baby, though she couldn’t understand what was happening around her, looked excited for me.

“Oh shut up,” I scoffed, “like I said, it was nothing crazy. We headed out, I tried to start a conversation, he shut me down, I showed off my combat skills because Rick told him to have me “prove them,” we got the shit and talked a little on the way back.” I paused for a moment, picking up my glass and taking another sip. I had decided I would need liquid courage if I was going to make it out of this conversation alive.

“Were you flirty at all?” Rosita asked. I felt my cheeks beginning to turn red again.

“I’m not drunk enough for this,” I replied, tilting my head back and consuming the rest of my glass in one swig. I set it down again, this time not going to have another one. “I may or may not have told him that he should talk more because I like his voice…and that I could listen to him talk all day. Do you think that was too much?”

I scanned the room, looking at each of my new friends. Their jaws were on the floor, their mouths upturned into giddy smiles. They kept their eyes locked on me as I adjusted myself in my seat awkwardly. I held my breath, regretting that I had shared such a piece of information with people who were practically strangers, and waited for one of them to say something, anything.

“Oh my God!” Michonne finally exclaimed. I let out the air I was holding. “Well, what did he say?”

“What I imagine is a classic Daryl response, which is nothing.” Rosita got up from her chair to get herself another glass of wine.

“What did you talk about on the way back?” she asked as she passed by me to the kitchen.

I scratched at the skin at the side of my right thumb with my index finger, a habit I often fell to when I was especially anxious. “Umm, it was short. He started it, asked me why I go by Vector. I answered and that was it.”

“Girl! That is a get-to-know-you question. Daryl doesn’t ask those. Of anyone. And he’s the one who started it,” Maggie said. She stopped, briefly looking over my shoulder at Rosita before locking eyes with me again. “What were you doing when Rosita and I got there earlier to get you?”

I took my glass, which Rosita had so kindly filled with water, and sipped at it. “How’s that relevant?”

“Just answer the question.”

“Umm, I was just chilling in my room, sitting my the window, people watching. A butterfly came along at one point and joined me. Sat on my finger for a little, then on my nose before they flew away. Why?”

“Holy fuck, she’s like a goddamn Disney princess,” Rosita commented, plunking herself back into the chair she was occupying.

“How long were you doing that for?”

“Uh, I probably sat by my window for like half a hour. The butterfly situation lasted like five minutes maybe. Then I went to get up and had a damn heart attack because I didn’t realize Daryl was there. He didn’t say anything until I turned around. Again, why?” Maggie and Rosita exchanged excited glances, the same looks they exchanged on our walk over here, before Maggie continued.

“So when we got there, Daryl said he’d go get you. We were waiting for you for a few minutes. I saw him through the cracked door. He was just standing there in your doorway.” Her face was lit up at this point. “He could’ve just yelled for you or let us in to get you. I think he wanted an excuse to see you, talk to you, even for just a second. I think he was watching you the whole time.”

I felt the butterflies in my stomach fluttering like mad at the thought of him standing in my doorway, just watching me having a wholesome, innocent moment with a butterfly. If he indeed was standing there the whole time, what was he thinking about me? Did he think I was some dumb woman who clearly wasn’t cut out to survive the apocalypse? Did he think I was silly and there were better things I could be doing? Or did he think it was, dare I say, cute?

“I don’t know. I don’t even think he likes me. I think I’m being tolerated at best.”

“If he really didn’t like you, you wouldn’t have to guess. You’d know,” Maggie explained, “he’d make it abundantly clear.” Her reassurance, combined with the fact that she’d known Daryl for much longer than me, brought me some comfort. At least it seemed like he didn’t hate me.

“Well, if he wanted to see me or talk to me, he could just do that,” I said, “I don’t bite.”

“Daryl’s a little…too awkward when it comes to that. I don’t think he’s ever been with a woman,” Maggie replied. I cocked my eyebrow at her.

“What about a man?” I asked.

“I don’t think he’s ever been with anyone,” Michonne cut in. I turned my confused expression in her direction. I found it hard to believe that someone as strong, handsome, and mysterious as Daryl hadn’t been with anyone, romantically or otherwise.

“Him? Nah, I don’t believe he’s never been with anyone. Have you seen the man?” I rolled my eyes back and giggled. “He’s gorgeous. I’m sure there’s always been both men and women fawning over him.” They were now giggling at me, my level of tipsiness making itself known. Had I not eaten before coming, I’m sure I would’ve been far more drunk.

The front door handle jiggled, and in came Carl, Rick, and Glenn. Glenn waltzed over to Maggie, practically scooping her up to give her a kiss. Carl gave me a small wave and a “hey Vector” before walking past us to his room, presumably. Rick approached Michonne and gave her a smooch as well, taking Judith before turning to me.

“Makin’ friends Vector?”

“You know it, cowboy.” When I first got here and woke up in the cell, I had asked Rick for his name so I could address him properly, but ever since, I had almost exclusively referred to him as “cowboy.”

“Rick, Glenn, we have a question for you,” Maggie asked them. Michonne and Rosita looked like they were trying to stop themselves from busting out laughing.

“No we don’t.” I was perhaps a bit too quick with my response.

“Do you think Daryl’s ever been involved with anyone romantically? Is that something y’all’ve talked about?” She was trying to suppress her own laughter at this point. Glenn and Rick exchanged glances. Rick took the liberty of responding for both of them.

“He’s never talked about it, we haven't asked. But no, I don’t think he has. Why?” Maggie turned to me and gave me a “see, told you” look. Her diverting her attention to me caused Glenn and Rick to follow, as if her doing so was an answer to Rick’s question. I was probably more red than the brightest tomato any of them had ever seen.

“Does somebody have a little schoolgirl crush?” Glenn teased.

“Are you shitting my dick right now?” I mumbled under my breath, “y’all don’t keep secrets around here, do you?”

“If it makes you feel better, I think I can speak for both Maggie and I when we way we would’ve let it slip to them at some point,” Michonne said. I hopped up off of my stool and walked over to my boots.

“I don’t see how that’s supposed to make me feel better. None of you are to say a word to him about this. Aaron’s the only other one who knows.”

“So almost all of us that really know Daryl know about it?” Rosita laughed.

“I guess, yeah.” I figured Glenn and Rick getting back was the sign that it was time to leave, so I started zipping my boots up. Rosita got up and came to do the same, as did Maggie, Glenn following close behind her. ”Thank you for inviting me to hang with y’all. Now what we discussed in this room stays in this room. This circle is HIPAA compliant. Do I make myself clear?” They all nodded.

“Crystal,” Michonne smiled. I finished putting my boots on and stepped out of the way for the others to do the same. I followed them out the door and down the steps of the front porch after saying goodnight to Rick and Michonne.

“Invite me again when y’all do that,” I said, “but don’t let me drink so much. I’m starting to feel dizzy.” I held my hands out at my sides, just a bit, to help myself as I walked.

“Geez, you really are a lightweight. You gonna be ok?” Maggie asked, placing a hand on my shoulder as we continued.

“Don’t worry, she has a big, strong, handsome man at home that can help her up into bed,” Rosita teased. I was too focused on making sure I didn’t fall over as I walked to come up with a clever response to her snarky remark.

“Oh hush,” was all I could muster up.

Glenn and Maggie’s place was first, and Rosita walked with me the rest of the way to mine, as hers was past me. She made sure I got up the front steps without falling before heading off.

“Hey Rosita?” I slowly turned to her, and she stopped and looked back at me, “y’all are really cool. Thanks for allowing me to come.”

“Anytime. Now just get into bed safe,” she commented, turning and heading off. I slowly approached the front door and tried to be as quiet as possible as I let myself in in case Daryl was asleep.

But he wasn’t. He was standing in the kitchen, and he had just poured himself some whiskey. It smelled like gasoline and only made my dizziness worse. I let the door close softly behind me and carefully lowered myself to the ground to take my boots off.

“The hell ya doin’?” I turned my head in his direction, and by that point I was so dizzy that all I could make out clearly was vague shapes and colors. I could tell he was wearing something black, and he was leaning over the kitchen island, but that was about it.

“I…am a lightweight…and I’m…so dizzy right now…I can barely see you…” I took my shoes out from under me and cautiously stood up, making sure I had my footing before I started walking toward the stairs.

“What’d ya drink?” Daryl asked. My lack of sobriety made me question whether or not the slight hint of concern in his voice was real or if I had imagined it.

“I had…three glasses…of wine…” I replied.

“Jesus, ya really are a lightweight.” I kept my hands out at my sides to maintain my balance, stepping and stopping for a moment before taking another one, “careful goin’ up them stairs now. Fall and break ya neck if ya slip, and I ain’t cleanin’ that up.” I didn’t say or do anything, I just kept my slow pace toward the stairs. As I approached the bottom step, I heard Daryl’s footsteps come around from the kitchen and stand somewhere behind me.

“What are you…doing?” I turned my head to talk back over my shoulder.

“Makin’ sure ya don’t break ya neck. We just got a doctor. Can’t have her gettin’ herself killed that fast.” He swirled his whiskey in his hand. I didn’t notice the sound of ice clinking against the cup. The man took his whiskey neat—couldn’t say I was surprised by that.

I carefully stepped up onto the first step, grabbing onto both sides of the railing with my hands to steady myself. To say I was humiliated would be an understatement. I didn’t need a babysitter, but my low tolerance for alcohol demanded I have one.

“Well this…is…embarrassing,” I said as I continued making my way up the steps.

“Nah, we all get a lil’ too drunk sometimes,” he said, “easy escape in a world like this. Hard not to.” After I was probably halfway up, I heard his footsteps again, this time coming to the bottom of the steps before stopping. When I was almost at the top, he came up the stairs a bit, always making sure to leave a distance of several steps between us. I didn’t know if that was because he was uncomfortable getting too close or he didn’t want me getting uncomfortable with him getting too close. Once I had finally made the long, arduous journey to my bedroom door, I turned back to him. My dizziness was only getting worse, but I could make out the shape of him on the steps, facing my direction.

“Thanks for…not letting me…break my neck…Daryl.” I gave him a tipsy smile and a two-finger salute. “Goodnight.”

“‘Night,” he responded. I shut the door, taking my glasses off and setting them on my dresser before allowing myself to fall back onto the bed. I crawled up toward my pillow and was asleep before my head even touched it.

[hislittleraincloud]

Tor, how do you write SO MUCH?! I’m out here struggling to reach 1,000 words and you’re pumping out 10K word chapters? Please teach me your ways 🙏

Alas, Young Jedi, I cannot teach the ways, as the ways are long and lifetime. I've been writing and drawing since I could pick up a pencil.

Reading for longer...there's a photo of me somewhere where I'm about 1 or so, and I had crawled over to a pile of Sunday papers, slid out the Comics section, sat my ass down in my diaper, and opened the paper like anyone else would open and read a newspaper...I was quite attracted to the Dick Tracy comic, and I remember seeing the words "Dick Tracy" but being unable to communicate anything about it because hello...I was a freaking baby. But my father was freaking out after my mother pointed to what I was doing and he rushed to go grab his camera (I remember his freak out too, he was so excited 🤣💕). If I can find that photo, I'll post it (it's somewhere, it was used on the photo posters printed for when my grandmother passed back in the 00's).

By the way, the science that says that babies can't have such memories is wrong. I am proof of that. My hippocampus must have been very highly developed/advanced, because I remember a shitload of things from when I was a baby, some of which I'd like to forget. Anyway.

I was also raised on Daytime Soap Dramas (aside from the usual Sesame Street and Electric Company that was for us kids on PBS). I've seen years and years of writers writing the wildest, most dramatic shit. I've watched characters come back from the dead with wild — but plausible — explanations. Daytime Soaps got and still get a bad rap, but depending on which one, the storytelling is compelling, which is why there were fans who stayed loyal to their soap (my mother was an AMC & OLTL loyalist...she didn't care for GH or non-ABC Soaps). How to write compelling stories is hidden in plain sight with those. Back from the dead? Check. Drawing out a scene for days because of the angst? Check. Cliffhangers? Double, triple, quadruple check. Cliffhangers are prevalent in soaps and probably the main thing that kept people coming back to the stories and wanting more. Media has changed, unfortunately, and there are no regular, daily dramas (well, GH is one of three surviving American soaps) that children are stuck watching because there's nothing else on TV to entertain SAHMs. SAHMs have their pick of apps, movies, and shows now, and most fans of soaps are generationally conditioned...like me, but my soaps are gone. (Fun fact: I appeared on Hulu with my dog via Skype to ask actor Robert S. Woods a question during their interactive OLTL session, when OLTL was shifted to Hulu. I was way too excited, since I'd been watching him for over 35 years. My dog, however, was asleep in my arms with his tongue hanging out...and that was caught on camera 💩). Some of it is highly repetitive, so it trains your brain to tolerate and accept the multiple variations of storyline that are, but aren't, the same.

But anyway, back to present day since ABC gutted their soaps in favor of bullshit no one watches: I write when inspired. Sometimes it comes out with strong weed (like a good Wenjax scene that I'm deliberating whether it should go into the main Afterburn story or into the Deleted Scenes). Sometimes I just write dialogue for a couple of hours. UVC was mostly dialogue when written at first (the fic wives have seen it in its halfway mark, when it was completely lacking Jon's exploration of her house).

I also write a lot of poetry and have done so since just before I met Allen Ginsberg. My father had exposed me to the Beats before, but I was too stuck in my kid head until I met the master at 14. I was enamored by him and his freeform writing, even though I was heavily into the American Romantics like Walt Whitman (such is going to be explored in the UVCniverse). But while I could write like them, I wanted more freedom of structure with lyricism, and Beat poetry (along with non-Beats like e.e. cummings and a few others) afforded me that. The bulk of my youth poems are gone/destroyed when my fucking ex and fucking building manager emptied my apartment when I was in Rome ten years ago (so if I go quiet in November, it's me mourning those poems...since I'm not like Jon or Cairo, I can't retrieve them from m brain 😞 I have a really sharp memory, but it's not like theirs... it's more like ABW's). FTR, in my youth I was also a huge Edgar Allen Poe fan, and won the class contest to write like him in the 6th grade. I might've mentioned that before. First prize was a large (the big bar type) Hershey bar. I gave it to my father bc I didn't like regular Hershey chocolate LOL. At the time, my favorite book was a very old dictionary/thesaurus/almanac combo book, and reading bits of it every day helped my writing.

Writing poetry for me is a little harder these days, but the muse is whispering a little, and 'In Three Bites' (from the screencap I posted before about the shit I'm writing) is Jon and Cairo slinging a form of poetry at each other during class via text. Poetry can be practice for bigger things, so look into just writing down your thoughts. Stream of consciousness writings, stuff like that can be poetic or it can be rambling, who cares? Write.

Write what you know to practice, even if it's a private diary entry. Expand your vocabulary. Collect thesauruses and READ THEM, and write down (with a pen/pencil on paper) the most interesting words that appeal to you and remember/retain them for future use — don't just let your teachers hand you a list to memorize (do what they tell you to do re: vocab words, but don't be limiting yourself to what they want you to learn). Learn a second language, one that is structurally atypical to English's SVO [subject, verb, object], so that you can see the world from someone else's culture. Never stop learning words that are new to you. Never stop learning like that, would probably be my ultimate advice.

But also? Fuck word counts, unless you're writing a 100 word drabble. In fact, write more 100 word drabbles. It will teach you to pick and choose your words for effective expression of the scene/thought. I don't really worry about meeting word counts, unless it starts to get long (which is where AB is, and which is why I've had to split chapters up). Half of the UVC/MG ones I listed are at under 1K words so far, but I'm not concerned about word count on them and probably won't be, unless one of them turns into a monster (I can see 'Project Drop Down' (Cairo meets Bea) taking that turn, but I can probably make that one a 10K one shot). Don't struggle to get to 1K. Just write what you want and need to. It'll go where it needs to go, especially when you're inspired. And if you never get inspired over an idea? Move on to the next one, or move to something that does inspire you enough to write over 1K of it in one go. Some people are satisfied writing 200 word 'chapters'. I am not. There's too much going on in my head to limit everything to 200 words, so I just keep writing and writing. Might be genetic, since my father's been opining to me about how he needs to type up all of his writings (and I have a Paperblank journal that I gave him to fill up, which he did 💀).

Write!

And keep writing to whatever passion calls to you. If it isn't calling, don't angst over it. It's not the end of the world if you can't get to 1K.

[twdmusicboxmystery]

Breakdown of Emily’s “Talking Sherm” Clip

This dropped just the other night. Watch it below:

Okay, let’s deep dive. Thanks to everyone who sent this to me on various platforms. For those who haven’t seen it yet, this is a bit that dropped just the other day. It’s a TTD parody for a show called Sherman’s Showcase that aired on AMC during 2019-2021. 

And they have Emily as a guest, yelling at Gimple and Kirkman and AMC about killing off her character.

If that isn’t capturing your attention yet, let’s pick this baby apart, shall we?

FYI, the Sherman showcase was a comedy where they supposedly ran through the history of a fictitious variety show that ran for like 40 years. So, it would be like if someone did a history of The Tonight Show or something. But the show itself is a comedy based around the history of this show. 

The only big thing I’m seeing here is that there’s a lot of music and singing and dancing going on. So, perhaps it’s fitting.

Read more HERE.

They start with Chris doing a big of an intro, as he always does on TTD. His questions include “what happened to the funk monster?” and “Is Sherman really dead?”

I’m having a hard time finding out much about the funk monster, except that it’s a big part of Sherman’s Showcase and has its own merchandise in the AMC store. I think the point here is that we don’t know what happened to him, kind of like we don’t know what happened to Beth’s body.

And then there’s the “is Sherman really dead” line. From what I can tell, there isn’t anything that suggests any kind of death fake out for Sherman in Sherman’s showcase. Someone correct me if you know otherwise. I haven’t watched Sherman’s showcase, so I’m definitely not an expert. But it doesn’t seem like this has anything to do with that show. Which means it can only have to do with Emily and TWD.

Once they introduce Emily, she immediately jumps in saying, “Chris, I still can’t believe they killed off my character.”

So, just to state some broad, obvious things. Why have her do this? As @wdway said, if they were simply going for a funny parody of TWD, why Emily/Beth? Why not Carl? Or Andrea? Or Dale? Or anyone else? This is once again an example of what we’ve said over the years. Sure, other deceased characters get some love. They have figurines or show up in TWD games or trading cards. But Emily/Beth gets SO much more than any other deceased character. They promote her more, show her to the audience more, do more to remind us of her arc. There has to be a reason for that.

Also, she’s wearing pink. I believe it was @wdway who first picked up on pink as being a Beth color, and we’ve long believed that, though of course, without confirmation, it’s a just a theory. But this surely proves it. All this talk about whether a character is dead and Emily is there wearing pink.

Now, of course this is meant to be a joke and Emily is just acting when she says she angry with the showrunners and coming for them. But again, why do this unless there’s some purpose in it? I mean, it really doesn’t seem like they’re bringing back Sherman’s Showcase.

She has this weird line about how she makes her own weapons. We’re not sure what that means. I wondered if it might possibly reference The Red Machete, but I’ll admit I have no idea how it would connect. We really didn’t see Beth make her own weapons, so I’m thinking this is a foreshadow of some kind. Something we’ll see Beth do when she returns. After all, she says, “I’m coming for you,” which is future tense and suggests something that hasn’t happened, yet.

Then Sherman mentions T-Dog. They actually talk about him a lot for such a small clip. The first thing I thought was that T-Dog’s death was tangled up with Carol’s death fake out from S3. When T-Dog died, Carol disappeared for a few episodes and was presumed dead. They even created a grave for her. And there are a LOT of parallels between Beth’s fake out in Coda and Carol’s in S3. Daryl finds her knife. Assumed Carol was a walker, at first. Carries her out, bridal style. All similar to what we saw around Beth in S5. So, talking about T-Dog may invoke the death fake out.

@wdway then also realized that T-Dog’s name, by definition, has the word ‘dog’ in it. Dog = Sirius = return symbolism. So, there’s also that.

Finally, Sherman calls Emily Luna Lovegood. Again, just a joke that’s supposed to be funny, especially since Emily looks so appalled, lol. 😄 But there may be a clue in there as well. As always, I look to the character templates. I was thinking that in the Harry Potter story, Luna was kidnapped at one point, and disappeared, no one knew where she was. She popped up later in a dungeon and was rescued and returned to her friends and family.

But then @wdway pointed something much simpler out (like, I’m probably over-thinking it) which is simply that a blond actress from the Harry Potter franchise (Clemence Poesy, who played Fleur Delacour) has been cast in the Daryl Dixon spinoff. So, bringing up Luna Lovegood here could simply be a clue pointing to the spinoff in that way.

Guys, I was convinced we’d see Beth in the Daryl spinoff the moment Judith said the thing about Daryl deserving a happy ending, too. But if that didn’t convince you, I hope this little parody clip does. This is a MASSIVE clue. It’s completely intentional, and has no functional purpose other than comedy. It would have taken time and money (not much, since it’s short, but still) to produce, and there has to be a reason for it.

[macgyvertape]

IWTV season 1 liveblog & thoughts (spoilers)

Watching the series before I’ve seen the movie, haven’t read the books at all

Ep1

Wow this is really modernized (this year), very interesting intro with reporter Daniel Molloy and it’s set after the film I guess

This is a really cool penthouse, but yeah online anonymity would be expensive

Really curious how much of the car and sets were cgi vs practical

Absolutely need subtitles I can barely hear the dialogue over background noise

The time stop scene was really cool, and you can hear Louis get more animated

I need a fashion breakdown between Lestat’s intro style and his updated fashion

this show fucks because it’s Anne rice, and it’s somehow the most tasteful I’ve seen seen any show do it (looking at you GoT

bite time! why are they floating

i only know Lestat from fandom osmosis and I keep waiting for something to go wrong during the wedding. I feel like he has something to do with Paul’s death

Oh yeah Lestat is torturing Louis with telepathy and killed Lilly here’s the Lestat I’ve heard of

Oh shit this show is great with cgi to show difference in relative speeds. I flinched at the head punch out, there’s the AMC gore I dislike

Ep2

How does the domestic staff arrangement work, it’s a lot of them and they all know about the vampire thing. No idea what the farm is but I bet it’s horrifying

Lestat really got Louis in really deep really quick

Somehow the death of the salesman isn’t as sad as the poor fox screaming

Killing the alderman, this going to go very poorly

The coffin scene just comes off as couples humor through the absurdity

“did you eat the baby” really enjoy how that question was repeated as a hardball

Also wow they’re leaning hard into Covid and other geopolitical unrest for vampire conspiracy

I’m having a hard time picturing how the original story went without one of the main characters being Black. Like racism affects the plot multiple times, and often highlights the power difference between Louis and Lestat.

Louis keeps describing so many red flags about Lestat, lots to unpack about his own “afraid to disappoint” line because he doesn’t have the same sadism disposition as Lestat

Ep 3

Louis’ reflection of the past changing in the retelling, is it more nuanced or more rehearsed. “The odyssey of recollection” loving that this is both an interplay of the previous movie and how memory of fallible and surely that is worse the longer you live as an immortal

Love the suit fashion in this show, wish I had a good fitting suit. Also love the art Nouveau

The domestic issues are so obvious, like Lestat is not happy about being poly despite proposing it. Like I’ve seen this cliche play out irl, including the other people have more success at dating than the person who proposed it

I don't fully get why Lestat keeps investing his energy into a relationship that is clearly starting to fall apart unless he doesn’t do breakups

Did it rain??? How much of my dislike of Lestat is filtered through Louis’ unreliability as a narrator vs not having a good understanding on what motivates him beyond control issues

What’s the deal with Rashid

Holy shit his family relations literally fell apart so quick

“Is your very nature that of the devil”, and it calls back to beginning of the episode where Louis wonders if they are meant for something greater.

What did Louis expect from the public killing and display other then the resulting white mob violence. It’s a decision made out of anger, but incredibly short sighted. Lestat is just so turned on by the gore and chaos

Ep 4

From fandom osmosis I didn’t expect Louis to be the one to advocate turning Claudia, then Lestat goes along with to keep Lous with him.

Wow Lestat is pissed at being left out in the next scene. There’s absolutely gonna be family secrets

Really interesting how the framing is Daniel looking at Claudia’s journals, and so its her voice overs and Lestat and Louis points of view are so shifted. The actress did a great job

I paused on Daniel’s notes, Rashid is sus

I think they were watching Nosferatu, I recognized the scene

Had to double check apparently she’s 14 physically but mentally 18, since I knew she was a child in the movie. Being forever a teen would be hell especially if its before puberty

I wasn’t sure if she meant to kill Charlie until she begged for Lestat to bring him back. Then she copes by self harm

I notice the costuming changing, the show is so detailed

Ep 5

Louis just feeding on Rashid, like they’re making out while Daniel goes through the journals

Louis doing this interview as a form of suicide, is like the one hint we get at global vampire politics

Claudia’s killing rapidly got crazy with a lot of bodies and a lot of trophies. The danger from the cops is real and they disappeared in the middle of a bar which didn’t help

The relationship is rapidly falling apart (it wasn't great before) where Lestat loses interest in parenting as soon as it isn’t fun. Wonder when Lestat started cheating; when Claudia started catching police attention or if he was cheating the whole time

Claudia’s line of “where is my Lestat” a lot to process in that rant but being alone with no companionship at all would destroy someone's mental health

Daniel's lack of sympathy for Claudia with all the murders and his framing of "once you put it out there it's open to interpretation" I'd love to see more meta on that

Why don't they just break up?! Sure they have their own reasons for not leaving the city but they could live apart

Oh shit a new vampire, Bruce. Waiting for the shoe to drop. Oh shit it dropped real quick

After I finish the series I want to check reviews, because I think when Claudia was an actual child this plot went very differently. I do have reservations about why sexual assault was added if didn't happen in the source.

Louis aggravating Daniel's Parkinson's feels like a bigger asshole move than Daniel pushing these questions

The framing on Claudia as Lestat beats her then him, it's so explicitly framed as domestic violence than a vampire fight

Lol also I forgot they can fly

Title credit music "home is where you're happy" is a good wham music to contrast with what you just saw

I've seen comments that this show is an example of the showrunners not liking the source material, I bet this episode is divisive.

I finish this episode still "eh" on Lestat, I don't like him I don't hate him, I just don't get his motivation other than control issues

Ep 6:

I think the interplay between Louis and Daniel is interesting, Daniel pushes that the doctor who attends the leaders of Dubai is in the apartment and Louis pushes about Daniel dreaming of their first meeting with all the implications that had last time it was brought up

So Louis didnt remember Lestat flying when they fucked?! Yeah someone you’ve lived with for decades suddenly flying and dropping you from such a height gains a new level of horror

I’m really enjoying the 40s or 50s? Fashion.(lmao it was 30s fashion but I don’t know enough to differentiate)

Claudia and Louis seem to be getting along so well

Lestat is really trying to buy his way back in, theres like 10 seconds where I thought maybe he did some self reflection and changing but keeping it up for multiple attempts is a bad sign

Really impressed with the visual framing where Daniel is the only one sitting in sunlight

“I hate you” “as you should” then vampire teeth and he takes Lestat back. Ok this is interesting toxic codependency where Louis had an opportunity to walk away but didn’t take it, and Lestat had an opportunity to move on with Antoinette and didn’t take it.

Louis asking Lestat if he had anything to do with Paul’s death since he always wondered. No wonder their relationship was a mess all these years, i was on the fence on believing Lestat when he said no right up until Antoinette was revealed to be alive

Damn Lestat’s story with the lookalike corpses and his maker killing himself explains so much

Claudia seems to have reached a place of acceptance with her issues, her sense of dress has really changed and you can see how she matured

Holy shit like you think for a moment she got away then the horror of her sobbing as Lestat psychologically tortures her and I think it’s one of the most chilling Lestat scenes in the whole show.

The dreaming then its back to their first meeting. Also lots to unpack about Daniel turning down vampirism. Maybe he would hate to be stuck as he is for eternity.

THATS RASHID HES A VAMPIRE I KNEW IT (good reveal). Him and Louis are definitely together

Ep7:

Sound editing is off, where you can barely hear the dialogue over the music

Surprised it took this long for them and the house to be under a lot of scrutiny especially how they were not subtle

Rashid is in the sun?? I assume its a special vampire power, but Louis totally notices Daniel noticing Rashid

The jaw getting ripped off was a bit too much AMC style gore

Why didn’t Lestat turn Antoinette earlier and just leave Louis other than he can’t handle not possessing Louis. I wasn’t expecting her to have been turned so long ago

Damn that’s an emotionally powerful throat cutting scene

Leaving Lestat as garbage but couldn’t burn him, so I guess that’s how he comes back in Queen of the Damned. Lol Daniel explicitly calls this out

Oh shit the bouncer passing out but Rashid not, that was a big clue I missed but Daniel caught

“Was it raining Louis” great callback to Louis’ editorializing or omissions and what the fuck happened with Claudia where is she now

Rashid literally takes the gloves off when he floats and starts with the threats. Makes sense now why the bookshelves are high enough to be unreachable without a ladder. Love how many good costuming/set details there are that I just missed

“Armand the love of my life” uhhhh lots to unpack about Louis lovelife. How much of this relationship is unhealthy like the relationship with Lestat

Also dammit I don’t think Daniel gets out of this alive. Rashid pivoted so hard to very threating so quick. Like Daniel’s whole interview methodology is push at people to make them uncomfortable and that’s dangerous even without vampires.

Glad tvtropes is filling me in that Armand is a big deal. Ok so does Lestat fight Armand over Louis or does he accept Louis left and move on

TLDR: it’s interesting how much of the relationship storyline would hold up if you removed vampirism, especially since the racial issues would become even more of a focus. I think a lot of my thoughts of “why don’t they break up” come from most of the time both Louis and Lestat are turning away and not towards when the other makes an emotional bid. I’ve read and enjoyed other relationships that are super toxic and codependent like RvB Locus/Felix and enjoyed them. This one just feels like outside forces are keeping them together more than the push and pull of their personal feelings.

[funtheysaid]

TTPD is about IWTV

(Part Three)

This is a thread connecting Anne Rice’s The Vampire Chronicles to Taylor Swift’s most recent album, The Tortured Poet’s Department. Part One will be linked at the bottom, if you want to start from the beginning.

5.) So Long, London

I think this song perfectly encapsulates the feeling of bidding adieu to someone, and someplace, you once loved. Sometimes the location where you fell in love, even more so than the person whom you fell in love with, can dredge up memories you’d rather forget.

Louis leaves New Orleans after his time with Lestat, losing a city he loves and a man he loves.

“I didn't opt in to be your odd man out”

“I founded the club she's heard great things about”

“Just how low did you think I’d go ‘fore I’d self-implode? ‘Fore I’d have to go be free”

“And I'm just getting color back into my face, I'm just mad as hell cause I loved this place”

6.) But Daddy I Love Him

Another song that could be interpreted in multiple ways. I could see myself screaming “But Daddy I Love Him” about Armand, Lestat, Marius, hell, even fucking Daniel. It seems Anne Rice has a penchant for writing morally gray characters that my father would not want me to bring home.

But I think I’m going to go ahead and assign this one to our resident protagonist, Louis Du Pointe Du Lac.

Louis, especially in the AMC tv show, is the character who has to face the most judgment and prejudice. He’s constantly having to deal with uppity racists and homophobes, and I think he deserves this song just so he can tell them all to FUCK OFF! LET HIM LIVE DAMMIT!

“Clutchin' their pearls, sighing, What a mess"

“I just learned these people try and save you ‘cause they hate you”

“Running with my dress unbuttoned, scrеamin', but, Daddy, I love him”

“I'm havin' his baby”

“No, I'm not, but you should see your faces”

“I'll tell you something right now”

“I'd rather burn my whole life down”

“Than listen to one more second of all this bitchin' and moanin”

“You ain't gotta pray for me”

“Me and my wild boy and all of this wild joy”

Part One: https://www.tumblr.com/funtheysaid/749134183115456512/ttpd-is-about-iwtv

Part Four: https://www.tumblr.com/funtheysaid/749134914698543104/ttpd-is-about-iwtv

[hekateinhell]

Tbh, I’ve been thinking about it and I think one of the reasons I’ve been mostly a smut writer lately is because I’m so. freaking. tired (real life reasons lol dw AMC doesn’t bother me that much outside of fandom).

Smut (at least for me) is pretty formulaic once you find your groove. Even then it takes something out of me, even though I do enjoy it a lot OBVIOUSLY. I get to play with themes and just sex in a way I couldn’t growing up in a very religiously repressive household. And my style is not groundbreaking or anything; it’s very much something I want to improve on, in addition to fic-writing as a whole. One day.

I’m not a creative person by nature and my strengths are largely academic, which fucking sucks when I want to stimulate other parts of my brain and just blow off steam.

Idk what’s the point of this except that I’m tipsy and sometimes people ask me if I’ve abandoned my bigger fics and it makes me sad because I do love my trashy babies (and I’m flattered anyone would ever care enough to ask!!). It’s just that mentally I don’t feel confident or creative enough to continue them right now without there being an obvious decline in quality or whatever LOL all my ideas are garbage rn.

And I guess that’s that. Doesn’t matter much to anyone but me, but it’s also come up a few times now so I just wanted to sort that out real quick.

Bonus: we all have our insecurities and now you know one of mine! :D

[sukorakurai]

@snarkyship is a true genius. I commission this Stark Family Portrait and I couldn’t be happier. I wrote a little fic to accompany this fabulous Picture. hope you all enjoy.

Stark Family Picture Day

 By Sukora Kurai

  Tony sighed over the counter in the communal kitchen. He had been there since dawn when he asked Jarvis what day it was. Then his trusty AI informed him of an importance of this month. Now he was stuck with what to do now.

 “Hey Tony what’s got you down?”

 “Hey Capsicle, I’m doomed.”

 “Oh come on Tony, it can’t be that bad you are an Avenger.” Steve smiled as he got out food to make omelets for the Team, and greeted the in coming members. “Morning Nat, morning Bruce.”

 “Morning Steve, what’s wrong with Tony?” Bruce greeted heading to the stove to put the kettle on for his morning tea.

 “Not sure I found him like this.” Steve stated cracking some eggs into a bowl.

 “His and Loki’s anniversary is this month and he has no idea what to get him.” Nat answered pouring a large mug of coffee.

 Tony shot up in his seat and stared slack jawed. “How could you possibly know that?”

 “It’s my job as a shield Agent and Pepper’s PA to keep tabs on you. So it is well documented when you clumsily asked Loki to be your boyfriend during the Lord of the Rings Marathon where you bought out the AMC Theater for the day.” The Spy shrugged ignoring the fact that all her team mates stared at her in horror. All were now wondering what she had on them in those SHIELD files.

 “So Tony, you have and anniversary coming up? Have you though about what Loki might like?” Steve coughed drawing the conversation back to the main topic.

 “No, I don’t. What does one give a god especially one that has magic and can make anything appear out of thin air?” Tony waved his arms in frustration.

 “That is a tough one but I’m sure anything you get him will be fine. Loki loves you Tony.” Bruce tried to be supportive.

 “I hope you will be putting more thought into the gift you give me next month for our anniversary.” Nat gave the Gamma Doctor a pointed before wandering out of the room to start her routine before heading out to work.

 “Ha, I’m not the only one in hot water now!” Tony crowed at the look of devastation in his science-bro’s face.

 “Tony, knock it off. Now in my day it was the thought that counted most. You should find what Loki cherishes the most. You find that then you can present to him in a meaningful way. It’s true he’s a prince and probably has had his other lovers throw jewels and meaningless expensive trinkets at him to win his affections. You know Loki better because you love him and he loves you.” Steve pointed out.

 “Yeah, Lokes complains a lot about his life in Asgard and that there were many who wooed him just to get to Thor. At night when it’s just the two of us and RC snuggled between us he sighs soft and says what a perfect night it is. He never elaborates but I think it means that he likes just the quiet nights with us.” The genius eyes went glazed as he recalled the many nights he cuddled with his god. Then the idea hit him. “Hey Spangles, can you paint or do you just draw?”

 “Huh,” Steve was caught off guard and almost dropped the omelet he was flipping. “I paint from time to time.”

 “Don’t lie babe you are in your studio whenever can get the chance.” Bucky laughed entering the kitchen. “All the paintings in our apartment Stevie did.”

 “Great! Can you do a portrait if I get you a picture?” Tony asked digging in to the ham and cheese omelet.

 “Yeah, it might take two weeks maybe less depends on if we get called out or if SHIELD needs me.” The captain estimated placing another plate in front of his boyfriend.

 “As long as it’s done before the end of the month we’re good.  Jarvis start looking through my photos and pull out any possible portraits.”

 “Yes, sir.”

 “Delicious breakfast as usual Capsicle. I’ll get you the photo as soon as I find one.” Tony dumped his empty plate in sink and ran off to his lab.

 Two hours later…

 “None of these are good enough J.”

 “Sir, might I suggest you take a new photo of you and Prince Loki.”

 “Yeah and RC too, because she’s our baby. We can’t have a Family Portrait without all the family members. Where’s are RC now?”

 “She is currently with Alpine in his play room.”

 “Cool, I think I got the perfect outfit in mind.” Tony grinned as he ran to his emergency closet in the lab. Tony had put in the closet when he realized he destroyed a lot of his clothes during his inventing and building phases. Also there was a suit or two for the days he forgot he was supposed to be in a meeting and had to make a rush to the board room.

  In the penthouse…

  It had been a quiet morning with no call outs, no calls to Asgard and no need to go anywhere. Loki decided to enjoy the peace and quite lounging in his soft Asgardian casual clothes on the couch reading his mother’s spell journal.

 “Hey there, Bambi! It’s Picture Day!”

 “Anthony, what are you on about?” The prince looked up from his book to see his lover carrying their cat into the living room.

 “Well Picture Day refers to the day school kids take pictures for the yearbook and photos are bought for family distribution. Anyways I want to have a family picture that was honest. I never had that growing up because Howard was an asshole and Maria, my mother, was frail. She loved me but she couldn’t express it because she was always ill. Now we have our own little family and I want a picture to put in the lab.”

 “You want to take this picture now? Anthony, I look a mess and how did you get the bow on the cat?”

 “Aww, you look gorgeous, love, as always. Anyways, I put a bow on our baby because RC loves to look pretty for her daddies. Don’t you sweetie.” Tony scratched under the kitty’s chin as they sat on couch next to the god.

 “Mew,” RC purred.

 “Fine, you win, where would you like to take the picture? Also what are you wearing? I don’t believe I’ve seen that outfit before, and what is on your feet?” Loki set his book aside and took in his lover’s appearance.

 “Oh you like? I dressed in red and gold to match my shoes. I had these shoes made based on my Iron Man suit. I thought maybe putting them on the market for kids but I liked them too much to share. So I have a life time supply in the lab. If you want I can have a pair made for you.”

 “No thank you. They clash with my outfit. Now let’s take your picture.” Loki said taking the cat in his arms.

 “Okay, okay. Let me get out my phone.” Tony fished his Stark Phone out of his back pocket and held it out to make them all fit in the frame. “Okay say cheese!”

 “Click”

 “Okay let’s see how that one turned out.” Tony looked at the photo to see him smiling a black blur and a bland look on Loki’s face. “Nope we got try again. This time smile Loki and RC you need to stay still so we can see you.”

 And it went picture by picture they have yet to take a family portrait.

 “Shit I only got half your face.”

 “Anthony your thumb is on the lens.”

 “RC Stay still!”

 “Achoo! Ow! I dropped on my foot!”

 “Do not eat my hair you Retched Creature!”

 “Okay I set it up on a tripod. Now say cheese.”

 “CHEESE BROTHER!” Thor popped up between the two men who stared at shock at the blond god.

 “Next!” Tony rolled his eyes as Loki vanished his brother to where ever. Tony didn’t ask where the Loki sent Thunder god. He rather liked staying in the tower and wanted to keep it that way.

 “Meow!”

 “No RC! Don’t chase the bunny!”

 Three Hours Later…

 “Okay, this is it I can feel it. Now Jarvis is going to take the picture the bunnies are secure in their room. The penthouse is locked down, so no unexpected guest and RC is filled of milk to keep her calm and relaxed. And I promise after we get this picture I will have Jarvis order you favorite meal from the Thai Palace down the street and I’ll rub your feet, while we watch you favorite Harry Potter movies.”

 “Oh Anthony you spoil me. I love you.” Loki sighed as a soft smile graced his face and he leaned into his lover as Tony joined their hands together. RC who was seated now on the god’s shoulder leaned in and purred soaking up the love of her people. The genius couldn’t be happier in that moment as he had his to precious family members with him and the grin on his face was wide and bright.

 “Click.”

 Two Weeks Later…

 “Sir Prince Loki and Mr. Odinson have returned from Asgard.”

 “Great, I got everything ready. Tell Loki that I have dinner ready and waiting.”

 “Yes, sir.” Tony had the table set with Loki’s Favorite food from the five star steak house, they go to. He paid extra to have the chef come over and cook for their anniversary.

 “Ding.”

 “Thank you, Jarvis. Evening Anthony, never in my life had been so glad to leave Asgard. He talked for hours at the council over stagnant topics. What’s all this?”

 “Well my hard working God of Mischief, today is our one year Anniversary and I have planned the perfect evening. Dinner, a bath and I installed a movie screen in our bathroom so we can enjoy the movie of your choice during the bath and then I plan on us making love until dawn.” Tony pulled Loki over to the dinner table, watching as the god’s magic removed the armor and replaced it with comfortable Asgardian wear.

 “You lovely little man, you spoil me so; I don’t deserve it or you.” The Raven pulled the billionaire into his arms and planting kisses all over the man’s face.

 “Yes you do, because I love you and I got you something, well I got Cap to make it, but it was my idea.”

 “You didn’t have to, dinner is more than enough.”

 “No, I wanted to. Now close your eyes and I’ll get your present.” As Loki closed his eyes Tony ran out of the room and grabbed the portrait from where he hid it. He placed it on the wall then Jarvis turned on the lights illuminating the painting. “Okay open them.”

 “Oh Anthony! It’s wonderful.” Loki’s eyes became all misty seeing their little family together and there was so much love radiating from painting. “It’s perfect.”

 “Happy Anniversary Reindeer Games.”

 “Happy Anniversary, my Man of Iron.” Loki whispered pulling Tony in to the sweetest kiss they ever shared. They didn’t hear the click sound of Jarvis capturing the moment with the sunset background. Another memory to save for another day.

 The End.

[the-name-is-z]

SKELETONS | ch. 26

daryl dixon x f!oc

masterlist

a03 link

Summary: In the wake of Carol's return, the group is met with another survivor-- one with valuable information, a warning, and a katana. Warnings/Information: AMC's The Walking Dead OC Insert | 18+ Advised | strangers to lovers; the slowest of slow burns; gore; angst; horror; humour; m/f; kidnapping; murder; killing walkers; breaking and entering (x2); unsuccessful torture for information; Rick is going bananas, what else is new

Chapter 26 - Found

Iris glanced up from Carol’s beside as voices echoed from the entrance. Daryl turned back and she nodded, staying with Carol as he jogged out to see what was going on. Iris kept the damp cloth on Carol’s forehead, gently pressing to keep her cool while she rested. Hershel and Beth soon came through, accompanied by Rick. Carol smiled at the sight of them, and Iris helped her sit up, gently cooing to go slow.

“Oh, God.” She whispered, reaching up to hug Rick. He gladly accepted, echoing the sentiment. 

“How?” Hershel asked, eagerly pulling her in for his own hug.

“Solitary.” She replied softly.

“Poor thing fought her way into a cell. Must have passed out. Dehydrated.” Daryl explained. Carol gasped at the sight of little ass-kicker, pressing a hand to her mouth as she doted over the baby. She turned back to Rick, an unspoken question in her eyes, to which he nodded sadly. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, tears lining her eyes as she brought Rick into her arms once more. Beth passed the baby over to her and Carol reacquainted with the others. Iris and Hershel followed Rick and Daryl back to the entryway, where a young woman covered in blood and gore was sitting, pressing a towel to her thigh.

“Is she—“

“Shot.” Rick replied to Iris. She nodded and they walked over. “We can tend to that wound for you, give you a little food and water and then send you on your way, but you’re gonna have to tell us how you found us and why you were carrying formula.”

“The supplies were dropped by a young Asian guy with a pretty girl.” She replied, her voice hoarse.

“What happened?” Rick asked.

“Were they attacked?” Hershel asked, suddenly worried.

“They were taken.”

“Taken? By who?”

“By the same son of a bitch who shot me.” She hissed.

“Hey, these are our people.” Rick said, bending down to meet her eye line. “You tell us what happened, now!” He jammed his thumb into the wound in her thigh and she grunted, shoving him away from her. Daryl propped his crossbow up in preparation.

“Don’t you ever touch me again!” She spat, pointing a finger to his face.

“You’d better start talking.” Daryl warned. “Or you're gonna have a much bigger problem than a gunshot wound.”

“Find ‘em yourself.” She replied shortly. Rick motioned for Daryl to put the crossbow down.

“You came here for a reason.” Rick inferred. 

“There’s a town. Woodbury. About seventy-five survivors, I think they were taken there.” She explained.

“A whole town?” Rick asked.

“It’s run by this guy who calls himself the Governor— pretty boy, charming, Jim Jones type.” She nodded, saying his name with disdain. 

“He got muscle?” Daryl asked.

“Paramilitary wannabes.” She replied. “They have armed sentries on every wall.”

“You know a way in?” Rick asked.

“The place is secure from walkers, but we could slip our way through.” She replied thoughtfully.

“How’d you know how to get here?” Rick asked.

“They mentioned a prison,” She shrugged, “said which direction it was in, said it was a straight shot.” Rick nodded briefly before he motioned to Hershel.

“This is Hershel. The father of the girl who was taken. He’ll take care of that.” He explained, gesturing to her wound. He turned away, Daryl dutifully following him back into the cell block. Iris sighed, pinching her nose.

“I’m sorry about them.” She murmured, Hershel sitting down at one of the tables. “Poor bedside manner.”

“I didn’t ask for your help.” The woman reminded her, lowly.

“Will you accept it?” Hershel asked. The woman hesitated for a moment before nodding.

“I’m Iris.” Iris introduced, extending her hand. The woman looked at it warily, looking up at her before shaking it.

“Michonne.” She said quietly. She sat mostly still while Hershel stitched her up, and Carl took it upon himself to watch over the both of them. Iris walked back into the cell block where the group was crowded against the far wall.

“How do we know if we can trust her?” Oscar asked.

“This is Maggie and Glenn! Why are we even debating?” Beth hissed.

“We ain’t. I’ll go after ‘em.” Daryl offered.

“Well, this place sounds pretty secure. You can’t go alone.” Rick protested.

“I’ll go.” Beth offered, receiving a quick shake of the head from her father.

“Me too.” Axel volunteered.

“I’m in.” Oscar shrugged.

“I’m always in.” Iris said, stepping forward with a smirk.

-

“I got the flash bangs and I got the tear gas.” Daryl said, loading everything into the back of the SUV in a big duffel bag. He stretched his arms over his head before pulling on his leather vest. “You never know what you’re gonna need.”

“Thanks, Carl.” Iris said, taking the bags from him as he brought them more gear. “Hey, don’t worry about Rick, okay? We’re looking after him.” Carl nodded, taking a deep breath before walking back to the prison. Iris grabbed a few more things and a bag of medical supplies Hershel had packed them just in case. Who knows what they would need? She stretched, adjusting her clothing. She’d switched the coveralls out for some cargo pants and a comfy black henley shirt. They’d be easier to move around in, especially when they needed to be stealthier.

“You certainly got a lot of weaponry.” Axel murmured as she strapped her knives around her thighs. 

“Pays to be prepared.” Iris replied, raising an eyebrow as she buckled the last strap. They loaded into the car, Axel closing the gate behind them as they drove away. Michonne directed them down back and side streets to keep out of sight, and told them exactly where to park and how far away.

“They have patrols. We’re better off on foot.” She stated.

“How far? Night’s coming.” Rick murmured.

“A mile, maybe two.” She replied with a half shrug. They began to unload what they needed from the truck before heading off into the forest.

“I know what you did for me, for my baby, while I was… figuring things out. Thank you.” Rick murmured softly to Daryl.

“It’s what we do.” Daryl replied simply. Rick reached forward, nudging the back of Iris’ shoulder.

“You too.” He stated, offering a small smile. Iris smiled back, nodding. They kept walking until a walker snarled somewhere between the trees, and Daryl caught sight of something.

“Rick.” He whispered.

“Down.” Rick hissed to all of them. There was a few handfuls of walkers coming toward them and Iris pulled out her knives. “Stay in formation. No gunfire.” They killed a few, but they were quickly becoming surrounded, and Iris was growing nervous.

“There’s too many of them.” She stated, grunting as she brought down a particularly large one.

"This way.” Rick directed, leading them through the trees. Iris hung back a bit, making sure that Michonne stayed with the group, even as she limped after them. There was a small shack ahead, windows and door barred, but it seemed safe-ish. “In there, come on!” They ran for it, and Michonne shut the door quickly behind them. “Keep it down.”

“That smell. It’s loud.” Daryl grumbled, recoiling as he began to search for the source of the putrid scent surrounding them. Iris held a hand over her mouth, trying not to gag.

“The hell is that?” Oscar asked.

“Gotta be a fox, or what’s left of one…” He shifted the light, the beam illuminating the face of a dead dog, laying in its bed. “Guess Lassie went home.” They all jumped as a walker slammed on the door, the whole swarm of them banging on the walls outside. Rick turned back to the house, flicking on his flashlight to survey their surroundings better. 

In the far corner of the house was a bedroom sectioned off with bookshelves and a folding screen. The king-sized bed was comprised of a metal frame an old mattress and what looked like handmade quilts. The blankets were laid haphazardly across the bed in a strange lumpy heap. Rick whistled a soft noise to get their attention and he took cautious steps toward the bed. Iris crept around the other side with her knife at the ready, nodding to Rick. He ripped the blanket off, revealing a man, a living man, who sat up abruptly and levelled a shotgun at them, frantically switching between targets.

“Ah! Who the hell are you?” He asked, shouting.

“We don’t mean any harm.” Rick said slowly, attempting to make peace.

“Get out of my house!”

“Okay! Okay, okay. We will. But we can’t right now.” Rick replied.

“Now!” He practically screamed.

“Shut him up.” Michonne hissed, glancing back at the shaking door.

“Get out right now!”

“There are walkers outside!” Rick hissed, crouching slightly as he put his gun down and put his hands out. Everyone was shifting on their feet nervously, wondering which way they might have to fight their way out. The man swallowed thickly, glancing between them.

“I’ll call the cops!” He warned. Iris blinked, glancing at Daryl and Michonne.

“I am a cop.” Rick replied. “Now, I need you to lower the gun.” He carefully placed his revolver and crowbar on the ground, looking down the barrel of the shotgun. “Don’t do anything rash. Everything’s fine, alright? Let’s just take this nice and slow. Look at me.”

“Show me your badge.” The man demanded, cocking the shotgun as he stepped closer. He happened to step further into the light, and Iris got a better look at him. He was old, wearing a threadbare red beanie, his face gaunt, pupils wide. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he was on something.

“Alright. It’s in my pocket. It’s in my pocket.” Rick repeated. “Now I’m just gonna reach down, nice and slow.” He began to reach, and in one swift movement, grabbed the barrel of the shotgun and wrenched it aside. 

Daryl moved faster than Iris had ever seen, ducking down as the bullet shot right where his head used to be, blowing a large hole through the wooden door of what was presumably the bathroom. The man was small and weak, and Rick easily wrestled the gun from him, tossing it aside as he pinned his arms down.

“Let go of me! Let go! I’ll kill you, let go of me!” He cried. 

“Shut up! Shut up!” Rick yelled in reply. Iris felt the hair on the back of her neck rise as the pounding on the door got louder and more frequent. Rick cried out as the man sunk his teeth into his wrist, drawing blood. “Shit!”

“Ah! Help! They found me! Help me!” The man screamed, making a break for the door. Iris paled. Of course he was out of his damn mind. 

“Don’t open that door!” Rick urged. He had a single hand on the door knob before Michonne inserted her katana through his sternum. He dropped to the floor loudly, and she flicked his blood off her blade before sheathing it once more. The group said nothing for a moment, pausing while Daryl rushed to the door, peering out between the wooden boards. The walkers were starting to pull them down.

“Remember the Alamo?” He asked, turning back to the others. Iris grimaced.

“Easy, Tex. I’m not dying here.” She muttered.

“Here, help me with the door.” Rick directed. Michonne stationed herself at the door, ready to open it at a moment’s notice. Rick and Daryl knelt at the dead man’s side, hauling him up between them.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Oscar murmured.

“He’s dead. Check the back.” Rick replied. Iris spun around, jogging to the back of the house at the other door. She opened it a sliver, peering through.

“It’s clear.” She replied. Rick and Daryl counted to three before Michonne quickly opened the door and they threw the man’s body to the wolves. Er— walkers. They pounced on him, eager for fresh meat. Iris opened the back door and they all slipped out hurriedly, leaving the bloody pulp of meat on his own doorstep. 

Michonne led them along the path in the forest until nightfall, when they finally approached the settlement. Woodbury. They had heavy walls built up with corrugated steel and piles of large tires, an abandoned cargo train adding an extra layer of protection and an extra hiding spot for them. They crept along between the train and the tree line to observe the gate.

It was two large doors, maybe ten feet high, manned by two guards on either side, standing on what seemed to be a platform behind the tire wall. They were both armed with guns, one standing at one of two spotlights they’d set up on the platform, the other walking up and down and looking out.

Iris steeled herself, remembering why they were there. These people took Glenn. They took Maggie. They clearly hurt Michonne. And if she was right about their leader, this Governor, then they needed to put a stop to whatever Jonestown bullshit was going on inside. They watched as the guards did a shift change, the tall man at the spotlight swapping out for another patrol.

Michonne huffed before turning around, limping off into the darkness. Rick hissed after her, but any louder and they’d draw the attention of the guards. Rick shuffled back to regroup, assessing the situation.

“Alright. We need to downsize.” He whispered, and they handed off the larger guns to Oscar, who put them all in the duffle bag across his shoulder.

“Ain’t no way we’re gonna check in all them buildings, not with all them guards there.” Daryl murmured, peering around the edge of an old, tire-less pickup truck that currently hid them from view. A twig snapped behind them and they spun around, weapons raised, only for Michonne to mouth something at them, gesturing vaguely in another direction. She beckoned, and they followed.

Somewhere along the outskirts and the backside of the long line of buildings and townhouses of Woodbury was a hatch, a pair of cellar doors leading into a basement that had conveniently been unchained. Recently, it seems. Michonne led them through, up the stairs of the basement and into a building.

“This is where you were held?” Rick asked as they moved into the main room of the house.

“Questioned.” She replied, surveying the room. It was small, but filled with what looked like operating tables and medical supplies. Their infirmary, naturally. But they were smart enough to keep all their supplies in one place. The other side of the room held plastic shelves of canned goods and other non-perishable food products.

“Any idea where else they could be?” Rick asked after Maggie and Glenn.

“I thought you said there was a curfew.” Daryl muttered, peering around the curtains to see a pair of people walking down the main street.

“The streets are packed during the day. Those are just stragglers.” She replied.

“We are sitting ducks in here.” Iris hissed. “We need to move.”

“They could be in his apartment.” Michonne suggested.

“Yeah? What if they ain’t?” Daryl replied.

“Then we’ll look somewhere else.” She snapped.

“You said you could help us.” Rick hissed.

“I’m doing what I can.” Michonne replied, huffing. 

“Then where the hell are they?” Oscar whispered. Rick jerked his chin at them, the group pulling away from Michonne to speak privately.

“If this goes south, we’re cutting her loose.” Rick grunted.

“She’s trying to help us. She led us all the way here on a wounded leg.” Iris replied.

“Right now it’s the blind leading the blind.” Daryl grumbled. Iris sucked on a tooth. He was right. 

“Only an idiot would sleep with their prisoners in the next room. Especially some as smart as Glenn and Maggie. There’s no way they’d be in his apartment.” Iris pointed out. “And depending on how fucked this place is, it’ll likely be somewhere any civilians wouldn’t stumble across by mistake. Potentially guarded.”

“Iris is right.” Rick agreed.

“Let’s split up.” Daryl suggested. Rick opened his mouth to say something only to be interrupted by a soft knocking and the jangling of a set of keys. 

“Oh, shit.”

-

TAGLIST:

@heidiland05

@ryoujoking

@catlalice

@maxinehufflepuffprincess

@lowkeyhottho

@fadingpalacebonkpsychic

[walkerwords]

“Just Like Old Times” Rick Grimes x F!Reader

GIF CREDIT: https://gifer.com/en/AjzT and AMC

Request from Anonymous: “ Here's an idea for Rick x Reader! Rick didn't expect to meet his high-school ultimate crush ever again, he didn't expect to see her in Alexandria after so many years, he didn't knew he'd even recognize her, but he did. She changed a lot but the shine in her eyes when she looked at him with a cheeky smile, spreading her arms, saying "Welcome to Alexandria" – it was definitely her. They do say first love dies last.”

Word Count: 3981

Warning: Swearing?

Song I Wrote To: “Back To You” by Selena Gomes

Note: I really liked writing this one. I am a sucker for the crew showing up at Alexandria and meeting someone they once knew. Thank you for the request!

-------

When the group arrived in Alexandria, led by Aaron and Eric, Rick was on edge immediately. 

He didn’t trust anyone and he knew that the new people were going to be wary of any outsiders who stepped through their walls. Then, of course, Daryl had to shoot an animal and carry it around like a prize, and that only cemented the odd glances the group got as they walked through the gate.

Aaron was sure that Deanna, the leader, was going to welcome Rick and his people with open arms. Alexandria was very particular about who they invited into their walls and she trusted Aaron’s judgment more than anyone else’s.

Walking through the streets of the seemingly untouched community, everything felt wrong. After being on the road for so long, the group was tired, hungry, and had at least four layers of dirt on their skin. Judith squirmed in Rick’s arms as he adjusted her, trying to keep her shielded from the strangers that Aaron led them towards. 

Aaron explained where they were going and a few things about the community itself. They were self-sustaining with the solar panels and even had running water. Rick couldn’t help but be impressed at how modern it seemed, but then again, Woodbury had seemed like a dream too.

Looking over at Daryl, Rick figured the archer was thinking something similar. While Grimes wasn’t ready to write off Alexandria completely, he wasn’t going to let his guard down until he was sure. They had lost too much already to lose something like this with its walls, water, and over all protection. Especially for Judith, Noah, and Carl.

It was then announced that Deanna wanted to speak with them individually in order to establish a connection and assign jobs. Rick had been hesitant at first, but after speaking to both Maggie and Michonne, he relented and followed Aaron into the house, handing off his daughter to his son. 

As soon as the door to Deanna’s house closed, the gate slid open. 

------

You felt exhilarated. 

You usually did after a fight like the one you just had. There were some people that were built for the new world and you just fit in it perfectly. Blood was soaked into your clothes, but you couldn’t care less. You were alive and the Dead, were in pieces. All in a day’s work. 

When you had told Aidan that you were going out that morning he had tried to stop you, as usual, but you had simply smiled at him and skipped from the safety of the Safe Zone. You loved Alexandria, it was home, but there were times when you just needed to get out and do something and so, you did. 

Your good mood was soon challenged by the look on Aidan Monroe’s face as you walked towards him. Nicholas shut the gate behind you, muttering under his breath about how reckless you were, but you ignored him

 “What’s that face for?” you asked, catching up to Aidan who picked off a piece of bone from your shoulder with a grimace. 

“Aaron found new people,” Aidan said. 

“Why so glum? He always brings in stragglers,” you said, knocking your boot against the curb of the street trying to dislodge any extra gore before tracking it in further. 

“It’s not just a few people, (Y/N),” Aidan said. “It’s fourteen, plus a baby.” You froze in your steps and looked at him with wide eyes. 

“Fourteen?” 

“Yeah, and the leader seems like a real piece of work,” Aidan said. “Honestly, he kind of scares me.” 

“Damn,” you said, trying to imagine what Aaron was thinking when approaching a group that size. You were even more curious as to how he managed to get them to say yes. 

“I have to go help my dad with something, but be on your guard,” Aidan warned and you punched his chest lightly. 

“Don’t worry about me, Monroe. I am very well versed in strangers,” you said with a wink as you pushed on ahead, desperate for a shower. As you headed towards your house, you could see your many neighbors all looking towards Deanna’s place and you just knew they were trying to get the dirt on the new people. 

Curiosity got the best of you and instead of going straight home, you turned down the other street and began walking towards a group of scruffy travelers.

You spotted the baby immediately. The little thing was in the arms of a young boy, its small body wrapped in a soft but dirty blanket as the teenager rocked back and forth trying to soothe the poor thing. You couldn’t even imagine what would it be like to have a child in the new world, let alone one so small. 

As you neared them, you finally got a better look at the hat that was sitting on the kid’s head. It was oddly familiar.

“You know,” you said, approaching him, “the deputies where I used to live used these same kind of hats.” The teenager looked at you and if he was surprised at your appearance it didn’t show on his face. You did, however, gain the attention of others in his group. You noticed on in particular, a burly man with a crossbow and a possum hanging from his fingers was watching you with close eyes. You ignored him. 

“It’s a King County Sheriff hat,” the boy said, pushing the brim up slightly. 

“No shit,” you said, your brows rising into your bloodied hairline. “That’s my neck of the woods. You’re from King?” he nodded. “Huh, yeah I used to live there. I guess the world is gettin’ smaller after all.” The kid gave you a small smile, but before he could say anything else, the door to your leader’s house opened and a man walked out, his cowboy boots scuffing across the chipped, stone steps. He was tall and just by looking at him you knew that Aidan was right. This man was scary. 

However, there was something incredibly familiar about him. 

After checking on the boy in the hat, his eyes then flickered to you and he froze. His eyes scanned you from head to toe, starting at your bloodied face and going to your gore-laden boots and back up. You were about to ask what the hell his problem was when he opened his mouth and said, “(Y/N)?”

The world around your froze as the Georgia accent reached your ears. You knew that voice or at least some part of you remembered, considering how your heart jumped as soon as he spoke.

Taking a step forward, you narrowed your eyes, trying to see something that was missing. It took you a moment, but then you were able to finally see it. Behind all the dirt, the dried blood, and the very horrendous beard, there was a man you never thought you would see again. Your high school sweetheart, the one who got away, Rick Grimes. 

“Oh my god…” you whispered, taking another step. “Rick?” Grimes was hesitant at first, but then he was walking towards you, his people parting like the sea for their leader. He reached a hand out to you as if to brush away the blood, but then he took you by the arms and pulled you into his chest. 

Your arms went up and tightened around him, holding on for dear life. “I thought you hated growing a beard,” you said into his chest and you could feel the chuckle that vibrated through him at your joke. 

“Very funny,” he said, pressing his face into your hair. When you pulled back, you tried to wipe off the blood that you had transferred to his filthy clothes, but he didn’t seem to mind. Looking up into those cool blue eyes felt like for once, everything was going to be okay. 

“You’re alive?” you asked, reaching out to touch him again, afraid he was a mirage or that you were actually dead and not as victorious as you first thought. 

“I’m alive,” he confirmed. Blinking back the tears that settled in your eyes you laughed, trying to make sense of everything that was going on. 

“Well, uh, then let me be the one to say, welcome to Alexandria.”

--------

Later that night, everyone wanted answers. 

As the group settled into one of the houses that Deanna had provided, everyone looked at Rick expectantly. “I guess you have questions,” a freshly shaven Rick said as he leaned against the back of the couch. 

“You know her,” Carl said.

“I did,” Rick said. “(Y/N) and I knew each other when we were around your age, Carl. We dated in high school. She was the last person I was with before Lori. I honestly never thought I would see her again.” 

“What are the odds that she would be here of all places?” Tara asked as she leaned into Glenn’s side, trying to keep her eyes open. Nobody was willing to blindly sleep yet. Rick and Daryl were already making a plan to take the first watch shifts as well.

“Do you trust her?” Michonne asked Rick. He was quiet for a moment before sighing. 

“I did once,” he admitted, “but I don’t know what she’s been doin’ this whole time?”

“She was covered in blood when she hugged you,” Noah said awkwardly. 

“Deanna’s son said she was on a run,” Maggie explained. 

“We could ask Aaron about her,” offered Carl. 

“Maybe it would be best to hear it from her instead of others,” Rosita put in. “I think we all would feel a bit better knowing more about these people and if Rick has a history with one…”

“She’s got a point, man,” added Abraham.

Rick nodded, but when he went to say something else, there was a knock at the door. Still not used to the concept of knocking or even proper walls, Rick slowly approached the door and opened it hesitantly. When he saw that it was Deanna, he opened it fully.

“Rick, I--” Deanna began and then froze as she looked up at the former officer. “Wow.” Rick groaned as Deanna stared at his now beardless face. “I didn't know what was under there,” she joked and Rick rolled his eyes, already getting enough comments from his people. “Listen, I don't mean to interrupt. I just wanted to stop by and see how you were all settling,” she said and then looked around the room. “Oh, my. Staying together. Smart.”

“No one said we couldn't,” Rick rebutted. Deanna smiled at him.

“You said you're a family,” Deanna recalled, “That's what you said. Absolutely amazing to me how people with completely different backgrounds and nothing in common can become that. Don't you think?” Michonne glanced at Rick with a knowing look that clearly said, “play nice”.

“Everybody said you gave them jobs,” said Rick.

“Part of this place,” Deanna said with a nod, “looks like the communists won after all.”

“You didn’t give me one,” Rick said. 

“I have,” she said. “I just haven't told you yet. Same with Michonne. I'm closing in on something for Sasha.” Deanna then looked at Daryl who was sitting protectively near Judith. “And I'm just trying to figure Mr. Dixon out, but I will.” Daryl turned his eyes toward the window, ignoring the woman. “Well, I will let you get some rest and then tomorrow, maybe you can take a turn about the place. I hear you may already have a friend here,” she said with a knowing look. 

Deanna nodded to the rest of the group and then turned to go. Just before Rick was about to close the door, he spotted you. You stood just outside the house, leaning casually against a light post, arms and ankles both crossed. Deanna smiled at you as she walked towards her house. 

“I’ll be right outside,” Rick told Carl who was nearest to him and then stepped onto the porch, shutting the door behind him. 

“There’s the Rick I remember,” you said as he approached you. 

“I don’t remember you being this bad with jokes,” Rick said. 

“Who said I was joking?” you said with a smile. Rick stopped in front of you, noting the lack of blood and gore this time. “How are your people doing?” you asked.

“They’re on alert,” Rick explained. 

“Makes sense,” you said. “I was the same way.” 

“What happened to you, (Y/N)?” 

“Well,” you said, taking a deep breath, “after the first few outbreaks happened, I tried to find my parents. Never did, but I managed to get out of the county and tried to get to Atlanta. If you didn’t know, Atlanta is not somewhere anyone wants to be right now.”

“I know, we saw it,” he said. 

“So, you know that I high tailed my ass out of there. I hooked up with a group shortly after and we traveled together for a while. Then, of course, as always, the world catches up with you. There were only about four fighters in the group, myself included. One night the building we were staying in collapsed. Its beams and walls were already weak so nobody was surprised when they started to crumble. The noise attracted the Dead and only two of us got out alive. I and a young woman named Natasha walked for days, but then she got sick and I had to…” you stopped, trying to shake the memory out of your mind. 

“Aaron found me a day or so later and took me here. That was about three months ago. I’m a bit of an outsider, but Aidan, Deanna’s son, he’s nice. He’s a bit of a moron when it comes to what happens outside of the walls, but nice nonetheless. I definitely prefer speaking to him than his asshole brother, Spencer. Alexandria is a good place with good people but they do not understand how to survive. Aaron is as close as it gets when it comes to a good survivor here.” 

“Then why stay?” Rick asked. “If you feel as if you are such an outsider?”

“Walls,” you said simply. “I was so tired of sleeping with one eye open. However, I’ve never forgotten what’s out there and neither should you.” 

“I don’t plan to,” Rick promised. You smiled at that, seeing the resolve he had built up over the years.

“So, that’s your boy? The one in the hat? Lori’s boy?” 

“Yeah,” Rick said, glancing back towards the house. “The little one is mine too, Lori’s as well.” 

“And Lori?” you asked, noticing she wasn’t with the group. You had known Lori in school and had gotten along with her well enough. It didn’t surprise you all that much when Rick ended up with her after your break up. She was the stereotypical good girl and you knew she had always liked Rick.

“She died giving birth to Judith,” Rick explained. “It’s just me and them now.” 

“I’m sorry, Rick,” you said and you meant it. “If you ever need me to tell Carl any embarrassing stories about his mom, I am volunteering right now.” Rick laughed at that. 

“I will keep that in mind. Thank you,” he said and you smiled back. “What about you? Did you ever marry?”

“I did,” you said. “He was a doctor, a damn good one too. He was attacked in his ER when this whole thing exploded. Damn thing tore his throat out.”

“Jesus Christ,” Rick swore, running a hand down his face. “I’m so sorry. Did you have kids or?”

“No, no, not yet,” you said. “We thought maybe one day, but Will and I decided to wait. I guess we both have shit to deal with, huh?”

“Seems that way,” Rick agreed. 

“I should let you get some sleep,” you said, pushing off the post. 

“Yeah, I should go check on Judith before Daryl puts her in a bubble wrap suit to keep her safe,” Rick joked. 

“Sounds to me like you got a damn good bunch, Grimes. I’m glad you found a family in this.” Rick looked at you with sad eyes and you waved him off. “Don’t do that cowboy, I am okay with bein’ alone. Always liked solitude.”

“I remember,” Rick whispered. You sent him a wink as you turned to go. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I ain’t going anywhere,” you called back over your shoulder as you skipped towards home. Rick watched you go and couldn’t help but think just how small the universe was getting after all.

-----

The next day, while the others went exploring, Rick was visited by his new neighbor. 

When the knock came at his door, he was hoping it would be you, but instead, there was a friendly blonde woman. Jessie introduced herself and offered to cut Rick’s hair in which he gratefully accepted. There was a small part of him that was hoping you would start to see him as someone you once loved, however, he also knew that you both were very different people now. 

Jessie spoke candidly as she trimmed and snipped hair in Rick’s kitchen. He learned a lot about the community and was surprised to hear that Deanna had built such a functioning society in the new world. 

Rick also wasn’t blind to how flirtatious the woman was. She was beautiful, he could see that much, but she was also married and she wasn’t you.

When Deanna invited everyone to her house for a party, Daryl and Sasha had walked from the room immediately. 

However, after the promise of food and actual alcohol, everyone agreed to try, even with their reservations. As soon as Rick and the others entered the house, it was as if they were stepping back in time. Glenn and Abraham immediately went for the beer while Deanna pulled Rick to the side to introduce him to Reg, her husband.

After exchanging a conversation about fourteen lives and walls, Rick excused himself. He walked through the room, Judith balanced on his hip as he made the rounds. Jessie was there with her husband who didn’t exactly look friendly. Rick made sure to make a note about him.

Just as Jessie was about to make her way over, a hand slid across Rick’s shoulder. “Figured you may want this,” you said, offering him a glass of scotch. 

“Are you having one?” he asked and with a snort, you picked up your own glass from the side table. 

“Already on it,” you said, raising your glass to clink against his. He took a small pull of it as you downed half in one go. 

“Still not a lightweight, I see,” Rick noted. 

“I feel like I’m immune to it these days,” you said with a sigh. “You okay?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Rick drawled. You narrowed your eyes at him. 

“Oh, don’t you pull that accent with me,” you warned as he thickened his Southern accent. 

“You always liked it,” Rick recalled. 

“I liked it too much,” you said, sitting into your hip. “Besides, I was hoping that cute, grungy one would be around. Where is Daryl this fine evening?” 

“Ha. Ha,” Rick said with a roll of his eyes. You beamed up at him and then Judith hiccupped in his arms, pulling all of your attention. “You like that?” Rick asked his daughter, shifting her so you could see her more clearly. “Judith, this is (Y/N). She is someone your momma knew and someone I care a lot about.” Your brows quirked at that last line, but you kept your eyes on the child. 

“You are just the sweetest thing,” you said capturing the hand she reached out with your index finger. “Lucky kid to have a daddy like this,” you whispered, but then she started to fuss and you backed away. 

“It’s not you, trust me,” Rick said. “I know what she wants,” he said with a sigh as he raised a finger, asking you to wait before walking over to Maggie. Hearing Judith, Maggie immediately smiled and eagerly reached for the baby. As soon as Judith was settled in her arms, she was still again, happily content to be with her aunt. 

When Rick rejoined you, he shrugged. “Maggie was the first one to hold Judith after she was born and she is usually the only one who can do that.”

“Next time I’m on a run, I’ll pick you up some parenting books. I bet I can find ‘How To Raise a Little Girl in the Apocalypse’.”

“I will happily accept that,” he said. Glancing around the room, you nodded your head towards the back porch. He gestured for you to go first, grabbing his scotch on the way.  The two of you stood out in the cool air. You were grateful for the silence that the yard provided rather than the crowded house. 

“Saw you with Jessie earlier,” you began. “You gotta be careful of Pete. That man is no good.”

“I had a feeling,” Rick sighed. 

“Man hits her and I pray he doesn’t hit the boys, but I can’t be sure.”

“How is he still living here?” 

“He’s the only doctor we got and as much as I would love to throw his ass to a herd or kill him myself, it’s not my call. It’s Deanna’s. Just keep your eye on him, yeah?”

“I will,” he promised. 

“I’m so glad you’re here, Rick,” you said. 

“I almost wasn’t,” he said and at your confusion, he told you the story of how he was shot and ended up in a coma before everything had gone downhill. 

“I can’t even imagine that,” you said. “Waking up in this world. You must have thought you were in a nightmare.”

“I didn’t know what to think. I just knew that I had to find Lori and Carl. We talked about how bad Atlanta was, but without me going into that city on that day, Glenn never would have found me. He brought me home to my family.” 

“Damn, that is incredibly lucky,” you said, leaning against the railing of the porch.

“Not so much luck followed,” he said. “We’ve been through a lot since then.”

“And yet, you still made it to the infamous safe zone,” you said brightly. 

“Yeah, I did. I made it to you,” Rick said plainly and you gasped slightly, not expecting those words at all. 

“Rick,” you began but he shook his head, taking your hands in his. 

“I’ve never believed in fate,” he said. 

“I remember,” you whispered. 

“I can’t ignore this sign. I won’t. Not after everything that we have both been through. I mean, they do say that first love dies last,” he said, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand. 

“They do say that, don’t they?” you responded. 

“You always did feel like comin’ home, (Y/N),” Rick admitted. 

“Does this mean you’re gonna stay?” you asked, eager for his answer. 

“Maybe, but with you, I have a lot of incentive now.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you said, pulling him closer to you. “Walls or not, I am not going to let you go after we just found each other again. Home is more than a place, you know?”

“Ain’t that the truth,” he drawled, causing you to blush. “Ah, just like old times.”

“Indeed, Cowboy, indeed,” you said as you pulled him in for a kiss. It was subtle and gentle, but you have never felt more alive. Rick kissed you back, his hand coming up to tighten on the back of your neck as he once did all those years ago. When he pulled back, he grinned at you. 

“Well, wasn’t that quite the welcome wagon,” he joked and with a roll of your eyes, you pulled him back in. Behind you, the party was completely forgotten.

TAGS: @thanossexual​ @yes-sir-hotchner​  @felicisimor

[shimmershae]

So.  I slogged through TWD Episode 17-Lockdown and, you know me, I had some thoughts.

I always have thoughts.  They’re not always coherent, but they’re definitely there.  

Look behind the cut if you’re interested in skimming through them.  

Slogged is definitely the word I meant to use because it took me almost 3 hours to consume this episode--I kept getting up and leaving to do other, more interesting things (blasphemous in the TWD fan days of old, the only way to keep my sanity in these trying times).  

But like I said, I slogged through it and all I could think about afterward was thank God I didn’t pay AMC any money for this.  

Shae’s stream of consciousness thoughts incoming in 3-2-1.  

So finally, finally they are giving us some connection to the past, playing up on our nostalgia with Judith’s voiceover and the flashbacks.  

IMHO, they should have included flashbacks of Lori in there since, you know, she’s kind of one of the biggest reasons why Judith is alive at this point and able to hear these stories.  Like why is she hearing stories about Shane’s descent into madness and not stories about the mama that sacrificed her life for her?  I mean, did I miss it or do they continue to do the most to erase Lori from the fabric of baby girl’s DNA?  

That said?  Carol and Lydia at the cliff!  My forever bruised heart!

Oh lawd, more Daryl and Maggie. I can already tell this episode is going to be lacking because they are BORING AF together.  Like there is just ZERO energy between them.  

I love how Aaron says “Carol’s there” when Gabe worries about Hornsby going after their people/families.  My girl is Team Family’s one woman protection squad.  

You know I’m proud AF but also?  I cry.  Because who’s looking out for her?  After the way so many of them seemed to turn on her last season, it doesn’t feel like they have her back back, you know?  

Negan and Annie would be kind of sweet if they weren’t basically one of those mug cakes that you throw in a few ingredients and toss in the microwave for 30 seconds.  Oh and if there weren’t actual good people still struggling to find their own happiness when this “reformed” murderer is basically getting to play house.

Negan really using that nasty ass Whisperer mask as the centerpiece to his entire wardrobe whenever he has “date night” has me simultaneously cringing and laughing because yuck.  And also?  Wonder if Annie’s like “Eww, didn’t I throw that out with the trash last week?”  

I hate how my Denny Duquette crushing days rear their head at the most inopportune times.  Like here I am, fighting against finding any redeeming quality in this butt abscess of a human being and I remember how charming Denny was and I’m like, fuckkkkkk.  Let’s not even get into JDM fanning the flames of the hellscape that is fandom since AMC decided to insert its head so far up its ass I can see Scott Gimple’s bolo tie dangling between Chris Hardwick’s teeth whenever he opens his mouth and just glides over the spinoff debacle with 101 questions about Princess and Mercer and Judith’s hairstyle like it’s nothing.  

Daryl and Negan tag-teaming it will never not make me go WTF.  Like the ways in which TWD has contorted these characters to keep that fucker alive would be impressive in some kind of alternate universe where people weren’t such assholes about a woman mourning her murdered son and seeking vengeance and ultimately the protection of her people in a two birds, one stone kind of way.    

Those Walkers ripping out those guts like people down at Disney during free dining (RIP) going ham after buffet snow crab legs.  

·AMC lying even in its opening credits because Melissa McBride and Christain Serratos been glorified guest stars this season and they’re 2nd and 4th billed.  

Oh look, they decided to put all 99 members of the cast in the opening. Cool, cool.  Too bad only about 4 of them have had any appreciable screen time this season.  

The comic style opening is cool and all but the original opening hit way harder.

Lance losing his shit in that suit is sending me.  

Don’t they know they’re wasting a precious commodity in the ZA—fuel. Jeez.  

Wow!  Yumiko lives!  Magna too.

You know Negan wants to comment on the pumpkin suit.  I mean, that twinkle in JDM’s eyes is on point.  He’s having to forcibly restrain his lesser angels (actually devils, but eh), lol.

Negan’s in is April?  Guess she’s dead so she can’t refute his story. Makes sense.  If I hadn’t rewatched the 2 minutes of that episode where Carol and Daryl awkwardly make a date and Carol comes to save her Pookie’s bacon recently I wouldn’t have remembered who TF she was though.  

Carol!!!  How is it possible she gets ever more beautiful every time we see her on our screens?  Granted, AMC is doing the most to see how that absence makes the heart grow fonder thing works out.  

 Fuck TWD having her play babysitter.  I know she’s been working things undercover and I know I’ve been salivating over Aunt Carol/Judith scenes for literal years but damn them for doing it this way.  

Seriously.  I hate how now they’re doing more than implying Carol has a relationship with these kids.  You know, conveniently sidelining her from the action.  They’ve been employing this same tactic for years.  Remember when they kept her from Negan’s lineup (my only consolation is she was spared that trauma) by shipping her off to the circus that was the Kingdom?  

That’s it!  Daryl’s solo spinoff is about him going back in time to that silly Ren Faire and showing his girl why she belongs with him and not some man who would self-appoint himself King.  

I kid.  I think.  Let’s move on from that farce, shall we?  

I do like, however, that Daryl and Aaron know their kids (because let’s face it, Daryl’s had more time playing daddy to those kids than Rick ever got the chance to) are safest WITH Carol. Takes the wind out of the sails of the old and tired mantra of the haters that Rick never trusted Carol with his kids.  Feels kind of like a fuck you, haters to me, lol.

Fake Stephanie and that other person I can’t remember the name of—hmm, guess they weren’t all that memorable. The hell are they doing coming in on Carol’s (Daryl’s?) apartment that way?  

You know.  I love the implication that Carol has been in that apartment enough that she’s super comfortable and knowledgeable about the whereabouts of everything but like, would it have killed this damn show to actually SHOW us Carol and Daryl slouching on a couch together instead of taking another whack at the dead horse that is Carol’s failed marriage with the petting zoo keeper?  Would it have?  Really?  

Poor babies be pretty skilled at that quiet game.  Especially RJ.  ; )

“Where is Carol?”  

Negan, Man.  We been asking that same question the whole damn season.

Carol’s always right, lol. We been knew.  Now we just got to convince the haters to accept that IN CAROL? EVERYBODY TRUSTS.  Actually, we don’t.  Because haters gonna hate.  Sure would be nice though.  

Carol’s been planning for things to go to hell from word go.  Sending the babies to an attic safe space?  Stocking it with supplies?  

Oh look. They remembered Yumiko and Magna used to know each other.  

They should have used Magna more in this class struggle in CW.  Given us more scenes showing her struggles instead of Eugene getting his groove on.  

Lockdown?  Hmm.  Oh damn.  Just remembered that’s the name of the episode.  My bad.  

The hell did all those Walkers come from?  Thought I was watching a different show for a second.  I mean, I know my attention’s wandered quite a bit but still.  

So Pamela releases “swarms” of Walkers on her citizens whenever she’s feeling some heat?  Sounds like something, eh, nevermind.  At least that’s the impression I got.  

Negan talking to Carol like they’re friends.  Look. I hate the hoops they’ve jumped through to keep him alive and relevant but I love the scenes he shares with Carol, lol.  I realize there are some double standards at work here but they fascinate me because he respects the absolute shit out of her (AS HE SHOULD) and MMB/JDM have their own kind of magnetism at play.  

Ya’ll already know all these Maggie/Daryl scenes are flatlining my interest levels but can you imagine if Daryl wasn’t there at all with her?  Because I think I honestly would end up wearing my thumb out on the FF button. Like no offense to LC at all but she needs somebody dynamic or in direct opposition to her character to come alive because Maggie is too straight line A to B, black and white, what have you.  They’ve muddied her up some this season but keep drawing the line at letting her really lean into the shades of gray because they want to keep her “heroine” persona intact. Guess it’s much easier for simple-minded folks to hate on Carol.  Besides. MMB is much better at selling her character’s layers.  

“I know that Leah meant something to you.”  Bitch, please.  Not as much as LCol hoped but I guess we’re supposed to at least pretend that whole waste of time Reapers storyline served some kind of purpose or had some miniscule impact.  

Daryl looking out for Maggie because of Glenn.  Now that actually tracks.  

Little dude that plays RJ can’t even sell that he’s terrified for his life.  He ain’t even breathing fast.  Kid’s stone cold.  As in dead and unable to portray human emotion.  Flare some nostrils.  Something.  Damn.  His parents putting back the money he’s getting from this show for his college fund though so kudos.  Plus, he’s a cute little boo so.  He still winning at life.  

Oh goodie.  Another trip through some sewers.  Aren’t they worried the CW is going to smell them coming?  

How shitty, literally, would it be to spend your eternity in a shit tunnel?  

OFC, Carol sniffed out Sebastian.

“I have seen her pull little bunnies right out of her ass with my very own two eyes.”  LOL.  But also?  Eww.  What ya’ll wanna bet Gimple sits at his laptop gleefully rubbing his hands together as he thinks up Negan’s dialogue and it’s always the most cringe ever.  Like there’s a distinct difference between the shit that has come out of his mouth this season versus last season.  And it’s not like he was weaving sonnets but his words weren’t full body cringe inducing either.  Dare I say it, they had more nuance.  At any rate, even if Gimple didn’t write it himself, you can still see the faint impression of that damn bolo tie in the stamp on it.  

Who is this random dude shouting on the megaphone?  I literally don’t know or care anything about any of these people.

I mean, I know I’m supposed to care more about this protest but all I can see are a bunch of redshirts taking up screen time from the characters I’m really interested/invested in. And sadly?  Kelly is the only “known” person in that crowd I’d be upset about if something happened to her.  I’m just not there with Connie because largely?  They’ve failed to put in the work to actually develop her, instead cheapening what she could be?  By using her as a tool for shipping wars.  If they stopped that bullshit and really and truly committed to fleshing her out more, I get totally get onboard because she has the foundation of a good character.  But right now she’s a crepe paper flower whereas Carol’s a whole bouquet of homegrown Cherokee roses.  

Rosita telling Mercer her family comes first and him respecting that and offering her help to get out if/when she needs it? One of the few moments of this episode so far besides the Carol moments where I’ve been like, yes.  Give me more.  I like this dynamic.  We could have had so many more quality moments with Rosita had they cut all that Daryl/Maggie fat that’s unneeded.  At this point, it isn’t even giving the episode more flavor.  

Speaking of flavor--is it just me or are these Walkers especially ravenous this episode?  

I love how my girl Carol is always ten steps ahead of every damn body but would it kill this show not to skip every step she takes until the final one?  

Lance looks like he might enjoy a little knife play, lol.  

The best thing I have to say about this episode insider thing is Angela’s hair looks pretty.  

Anyway.  I hope you got more enjoyment out of my free-flowing word vomit than I personally got out of the episode.  I’ve yet to work up to caring enough to sit down and watch 18 but whenever I finally do, expect to hear all about it here, lol.  

[absolutepx]

So I've been playing Death Stranding lately. Wait, that's not what this post is about. Well, it kind of is. Hang on. What is Death Stranding about?

A: Norman Reedus getting bare ass naked B. Sneaking around ghosts with the help of your sidekick, an actual baby C: Carrying 50 Amazon packages up a hill while trying to not topple over D: Waking up in the morning and drinking 5 Monster Energy™ for breakfast

For those following along at home, the answer is actually none of the above. Despite the set dressing being bizarre to the point of near absurdity, what the game is actually about, like thematically, is actually really simple.

See, the development of Death Stranding was actually quite a trip. Hideo Kojima is the video game world's equivalent of an auteur director. He has a very recognizable personal style. It's thoroughly horny – he caught a bunch of shit for the design of Quiet in MGSV, but like, a lot of Kojima characters are just -like that-, including the dudes. Also, this is going to possibly be important later.

Anyway, so Kojima was going to do a rebootmakequel of Silent Hill, and the demo actually made it to the PS store and I could actually write a whole side essay about why P.T. (it was called P.T. for some reason btw) was brilliant game design for how it used the same hallway over and over and it was somehow beneficial to the overall feeling of horror. So Konami it turns out kinda sucks nowadays and they like, fired Kojima (they were huge dicks about it behind closed doors, too) and scrapped the project and kicked him out on the street and kept the Metal Gear series which was his baby (literally the baby in the sink in P.T., he snuck a bunch of messaging about the Konami situation into the demo like a breakup album) and Kojima would go on to form his own studio and poach some of the people who worked with him to boot. So the thing about Kojima is this: he's got a reputation for already putting some wild shit in his games, like a ladder that takes like 10 real time minutes to climb in MGS3 for dramatic effect, and a boss in MGS3 that summons the ghosts of all the people you were too lazy to stealth past and killed, or a sniper battle with a really old guy that he wanted to have last two weeks or some shit until he died of old age but he was "told that "this was impossible and not recommended." That is a real quote I just looked up. So he's coming off the heels of making this hugely successful game with MGSV and the hype of the P.T. Demo and he fucking, he like took all the people that were going to be working on P.T. Along like Guillermo Del Toro was going to co-write it and Norman Reedus was going to star in it, and he's like, I'm going to make this game called Death Stranding. And the first trailer comes out for it and it's completely nuts. Norman Reedus wakes up naked on a beach crying with a baby and there are floating people in the sky? So we're all like hooooooly shit, there's no one to tell him "this is impossible and not recommended" anymore. What's he going to make now!?

So the whole time the game is in development I keep seeing these tweets where it'll be like, Kojima and one of his homies smiling with some saccharine message about being spiritual warriors and changing the world. And not just Del Toro and Reedus, there was Mads Mikkelsen (another guy Kojima puts in the game just because he apparently loves him), and the band Chvches, and also like, Keanu Reeves at one point? You know how everyone has just kind of accepted that Keanu is a being of light? Here he was endorsing Kojima. The hype was pretty confused and frantic.

The game eventually comes out. A lot of game journos hate it because I think there was this expectation it was going to be, you know, less weird and have more of the conventional structure of a video game. That's not to say the average gamer wasn't also dismissive of it, but I think on the ground level there was more of an understanding that like, yeah, Kojima just be like that sometimes.

Because the game was a timed console exclusive and your homie don't play like that, I spent the first year or so cautiously viewing Death Stranding from a distance. I wasn't sure I was going to like it – except for being really impressed with P.T., I wasn't actually a big fan of Kojima's games as games – but I -was- sure that I was going to buy it, because of the way Konami fucked him over, just out of support. And the shit I was hearing was really out there. The primary mode of gameplay is just delivery packages. You collect Norman Reedus' bathwater and pee and use it as grenades. You get a motorcycle that looks like the one from AMC's The Ride with Norman Reedus, and when you sit on it, his character in the game says "Wow, this thing is like the one from AMC's The Ride with Norman Reedus!"

But I didn't really want to know that much about it. Something has that much fucking crazy person energy, you want to go in mostly blind, right? So maybe people just weren't talking about this, or maybe I wasn't seeing it, but then I watched Girlfriend Reviews' video about it and they came right out and said it (link provided if you want to hear Shelby say it more articulately than me):

Death Stranding is basically about the exact opposite of Twitter. It's about remembering how to be kind to each other, how to reconnect in a world where people are so often hostile to each other by default. Prophetically, it's about a world where people are afraid to go outside or touch other people and how damaging that is. It's not a game about carrying packages, it's a game about helping people by being brave enough to walk through a wasteland carrying their burdens because they can't. It's about rebuilding the lost connections between people, about restoring roads and giving people hope. I bet, for Kojima and the people close to him, it's about how to answer hostility with compassion. You can't kill people in Death Stranding. You can and are absolutely encouraged to fucking throw hands with people sometimes, but all the tools and weapons are nonlethal. So I think Kojima took all the Twitter heat he got over the Quiet nontroversy, and all the feelings of isolation he had from Konami separating him from his team during the end of the development of MGSV, and all the support and encouragement he got from his bros Del Toro and Mads and the rest, and decided to channel that into making a game that was a statement about all of it. And sure, it's a little heavy handed, and sure, it's a little saccharine, and sure, the gameplay sometimes borders on miserable in service of creating emotional payoffs. For me, especially in 2020, this message is a huge success. Social media should be an opportunity for all of us to feel more connected to each other, yet primarily it feels like one of the main forces driving people apart. Why is that? Why is the internet of today such a hostile place? I'm old enough to remember web 1.0: I can haz cheezburger memes; YTMND; the early wild west days of Youtube... What happened to us? I've thrown the blame at Twitter in the past, and I think the architecture of the user experience on Twitter is absolutely a big piece of the puzzle, because it fosters negative interactions. But in terms of the behavior, people have observed that 2018 Twitter was actually almost exactly like 2014 Tumblr. (For the record, Tumblr is now one of the chillest places left on the internet, because so few fucks are left to give.)

I think part of it is the anonymity. The dehumanizing disconnection of the separation of screens and miles. Louis CK, before he was cancelled, had a great point about cyberbullying, and why it's so much more savage than kids are IRL. When you pick on someone in person and you are confronted with seeing the pain you caused them, for most sane people it causes negative feedback and you become disgusted with your actions and eventually learn to stop being a shithead. Online, at best you can "break the wrist, walk away".

At worst, you can become addicted to "clout chasing" and the psychological thrill of being cheered on by your social ingroup. It's even worse if you feel like it's not bullying and your actions are justified because whoever you've targeted is a bad person so you don't have to feel bad about what you do to them. This is where reductive, unhelpful catchphrases like "punch a nazi" come in. For every argument, one or both sides have convinced themselves that the other side is subhuman because their beliefs are so disgusting. And sometimes it's even true! A lot of times, especially these days, people really are acting like animals or worse online. Entire disinformation engines are roaring day and night, churning out garbage and cluttering the social consciousness. (Kojima talked about this bit, too, way back in MGS2. As if I wasn't already in danger of losing my thread through this.)

The human brain was not built to live like this. You can't wake up every morning, roll over and open your phone, and be immediately faced with a tidal wave of anger and indignity. It wasn't built to be aware of fully how horrible the world is at any moment ALL AT ONCE, ALL THE TIME. And you will be. Because of another way that our brain works – the way we are more likely to share negative opinions. And because of the cottage industry built on farming outrage clicks, and because of constant performative activism.

It's not that I don't agree that being informed is important.

It's not that I don't agree that the causes people get riled up about are important.

They are. They absolutely are.

But we can't keep living like this. The constant, unending flood of tragedy, arguments, and hot takes. How much of the negativity we associate with online culture is the product of this feedback loop? What if the rise of doomer culture has been, if not entirely created by, has been nourished and exacerbated by our hostile attitudes toward each other?  Incels and TERFs, white supremacists, radfems, tankies and Trumpers – it seems like on every side of every issue, there are people simultaneously getting it wrong in multiple directions at once and there are more being radicalized every day. They are the toxic waste left behind by the state of discourse. And any hill is a hill worth dying on.

So what am I actually advocating? I don't know. There are a lot of fights going on right now that are important and we can't just climb into bunkers and ignore our problems hoping that Norman Reedus and his fine ass are going to leave the shit we need on our doorsteps. We need to find the strength to carry those hypothetical packages for ourselves sometimes - and hopefully, for others as well. Humans are social creatures. We need interaction and enrichment.

We need love.

So just try to remember the connections between humanity. Try to put more good stuff into the world when you can. Share more shitposts and memes. Tell your friends and family that you love them. Share good news when you hear it. Go on a weird fucking tangent about Death Stranding. Find a way to "be excellent to each other, and party on, dudes."