#grimes for ts

[embrace-the-madness]

Andrea: Somebody must know something. Somebody, somewhere. Carol: There are others, right? Other facilities? Dr. Jenner: There may be some. People like me. Rick: But you don’t know? How can you not know? Dr. Jenner: Everything went down. Communications, directives... All of it. I’ve been in the dark for almost a month. Andrea: So it’s not just here. There’s nothing left anywhere. Nothing. That’s what you’re really saying, right? Jacqui: Jesus. Daryl:

*gif by @reedusgif 

[thegeorgiahuntsman]

Daryl Dixon in Every Episode  -  TS-19 (S01E06)    

[dorokoro-blog]

rick 을 성별반전으로 그리는것에 상당히 중독되어 버렸다. 😋

[titleleaf]

WIP Word Game: Petal

It’s not hard to tell when he’s been freshly fucked; the stink of it carries with him, summer sweat and seed and the marine-rich perfume of cunt. His hair is in disarray, the folds of his toga more of a tangle, wound around one arm like a man who expects to fend off an assassin — his face is clean and scrubbed of artifice, but the blemishes stand out like rose petals on marble and his mouth remains a bitten red.

Oh my god, of course it's Caracalla's acne. Good for him.

[prettydeeryess]

btw cowboy like me was written about michonne and rick from twd

[l0vergirlwrites]

soooooooooo,

since ttpd dropped today, i desperately need to write a fic at some point based on some of the songs— help me choose which song i should do first!!!

[softaestluv]

Grease & Grime Won’t Break Your Bones

You never thought you were attracted to grease and grime, sweat and exhaustion, definitely needed a shower and scrub, but no one has worn it like he is.

Mechanic! Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem! reader

Tags: dirty, greasy, grimy, sweaty, blue collar worker, yeah I’ll take one of those! you own a pick up, & I actually don’t know anything about cars, eventual smut

Pt . 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3, Pt. 4, Ao3

Contrary to popular belief, you weren’t completely daft when it came to cars. There were a handful of things you could do, as simple as they might be. You knew how to change a flat tire, how to change your oil, the oil filter and air filter. Even knew how to change the bulbs in your headlights— yours had gone out more than once.

Kept up with basic maintenance, topped off all fluids when necessary, rotated your tires, visited a shop when needed.

Though, the piece of shit pick-up you owned seemed to have more problems than one. Sticks on wheels, lemon of a vehicle, engine light flashing more often than not. You were quite exhausted from all the maintenance, worked too hard to keep staining your clothes in grease and ruining your manicured nails.

A pretty thing like yourself shouldn’t be doing such hard work, but you put entirely too much time into the old truck for price gauging and scamming mechanics to stereotype you— a woman, naive.

Simple.

Maybe you had been lucky when you stumbled across ‘Ghost’s Garage’ and the mechanic was anything but, even if his shop was a rundown brick building on its last leg. Old, dinky, mortar deteriorating, cracks and chips in the bricks. It was honestly a miracle it was still standing, but he worked in auto-motives after all, not construction.

Maybe you were a little biased when the mechanic seemed to walk out of a Men’s Health magazine.

Blonde hair, white t-shirt hugging his biceps, coveralls low on his hips, grease stained arms and fingertips, tattoos curled over his ridiculously tanned skin. It was almost cliche the way he approached you, dirty rag pressed to his forehead, wiping the sweat that dripped down his temples before using the same rag to clean the grease off his fingers.

“What can I do for ya?” He asked with shallow breaths, thick accent twined around each word.

You swallowed thickly, “My oil, I just need my oil changed.”

He raised his brow, gesturing to your blue truck in the service drive, “This your C10 right ‘ere?”

You nod, “That’s me.”

“Y’can sit in my office if you want, ‘ts hot out here. Shouldn’t be long.” He explained, pointing to a small room in the corner of the shop.

It was a typical mechanics office, small, a little dirty. Papers scattered across the desk and floor, plain beige walls, spare parts thrown in a corner. One frame on the edge of the desk, a picture of him and three other men, one of which he’s not really smiling in, just a slight lift to the corner of his lips.

You’re quite grateful that he let you sit in his office rather than being stuck in the summer sun; it was hot, scorching. Even the shorts and t-shirt you wore clung uncomfortably to your skin, thighs pressed tacky to the leather chair.

Despite the fact that it’s a bit too stuffy, a bit too cluttered, you don’t entirely mind. Not when it gives you a perfect view of the mechanic bent over the hood of your truck through the rooms only window.

Now you could really look at him, appreciate the absolute hulking mammoth of a man he is. Burly, brawny, sinewy, can’t even begin to think of all the adjectives to describe him.

Sweat drips down his thick neck, over broad shoulders, and around stout biceps, accentuates each dip and curve of his beefy muscles. It soaks his white shirt wet, makes it cling to his back and abdomen, displays every defined contraction of muscles.

Makes your body burn hot.

You feel like an absolute pervert, mouth salivating at the sight of a mechanic changing your oil. Maybe there was truth behind loving a man in a uniform, even if it was dirty, filthy, soiled, and half off.

You never thought you were attracted to grease and grime, sweat and exhaustion, definitely needed a shower and scrub, but no one has worn it like he is.

It isn’t long, less than 10 minutes, and meanwhile you appreciate the efficiency, a part of you is a little disappointed at the loss of the show.

“All set for you.” He says once he enters the room.

You jump up, “Ah, thank you so much!”

“Nice ol’ thing, ‘aven’t worked on one of ‘em before,” He compliments, zipping up the rest of his coveralls— ‘Simon’ printed on a pocket patch.

You laugh, real low from your chest, “That’s what you think. Just wait ‘til I come back next week cause the engine light came on.”

Simon chuckles, “No worries, bring it t’me for whatever you need.”

“Depends on how much you’re charging me for today’s services,” You joke, rummaging through your bag for your wallet.

“‘ts on the house,” He responds, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against his desk.

“What? No, I didn’t mean like that,” You stammer, shaking your head, “I’ll pay you.”

Simon just shrugs his shoulders, “Just be back for your next oil change.”

Your smile is wide, “I’ll see you in a couple thousand miles then.”

✦.─Masterlist ─.✦

[justiceiscalling]

i’m gonna try to keep this one short but, genuinely, why is damian going to hell never mentioned? like jason’s death is mentioned 24/7 and damian’s death is basically never even referenced (to my knowledge). did his death get retconned?

and even then—why don’t fics mention it? damian went to hell! literal hell! that’s prime angst material right there. i don’t understand people sometimes. everyone ignores the important aspects of jason and damian’s deaths, they only take note that they died. like the fic ideas i have for this is limitless.

catholic jason todd dies and sees nothing. no heaven, no hell. no jesus, no devil. he comes back brain damaged, then fucked up in the head, and when he finally gets his feet underneath him, he has a crisis of faith. then damian wayne fucking dies, comes back a year later (double it and give it to the next ts). bonding ensues.

“You trashed it.” Tim notes, looking down at the shirt that’s covered with paint, grime, and the distinct scent of the sewer.

Duke looks over at the shirt and scrunches his nose, glancing between it and Damian. “Just throw it in his closet. Maybe he won’t notice.”

Tim gives Duke a look. “It reeks of the sewer. Dicks not that messy.”

Damian frowns at the shirt. His trip through Gothams sewers hadn’t been intentional, it was a detour he had to make when an assassin cornered him. Unfortunately, at the time he was wearing Dicks blue ‘Nightwing’ shirt (yes he has his own merch. Yes it is because he is full of himself).

A low whistle draws Damian’s attention away from the shirt. He looks up and meets Jason’s eyes. His hair has grown out since Damian last saw him two weeks ago. If he refused to go to the barber then he should at least let Alfred cut it, do the entire world a favor. “Oh, Dicks going to kill you.”

“I hope not,” Damian says absentmindedly, putting the shirt down. Lest he start smelling like the sewer again. It took four hours to get the scent out of his hair, an additional two to get it off his body. “I’m not dressed properly.”

It’s meant to be a joke. Him and Jon aren’t exactly ‘working on them’ but he has been a test dummy for a few. Damian came to realize Jon laughed at everything, no matter if it was funny or not. The trio in front of him laugh as if it’s funny—Damian is about to dedicate an entire thirty seconds to basking in glory at the victory of making three out of four of his brothers laugh—but it’s when Tim speaks that Damian realizes it was interpreted wrong.

"What, you too cool to die in a hoodie and sweats?" He gestures to Damians outfit, a Gotham Academy hoodie paired with its matching Gotham Academy sweats. Underneath the black hoodie, is a black long sleeve shirt that had the Gotham Academy symbol on the sleeve.

Duke straightens up to get his own joke out. "Obviously.” He says with complete seriousness. “He has to die wearing Prada. Keep up, Tim.” He looks over at Jason, “Get a load of this guy.”

Jason snorts in response. “Gotta die in style. Dying in uniform is so outdated.” That earns a loud laugh from Duke, the only person who has yet to tire of Jason’s ‘I died’ jokes.

“Imbeciles.” Damian rolls his eyes, his tanned cheeks were probably coated in pink dye to embarrassment. He would never imply he had to die in a certain outfit if it wasn’t half-true. “That is not what I meant.”

“Please do explain, O-Wise one.”

Damian clicks his tongue at Dukes nickname but does as asked. “When I died before,” He doesn’t miss the way Tim and Jason stiffen at the mention. Duke just kind of pauses. “It was hot. You cannot exactly ditch clothes in hell.”

He’s met with silence. Well, he didn’t expect to be met with laughs.

Jokes aren’t funny after you explain the joke. Damian busies himself with folding the shirt he had previously let go of, the one that smelled of the sewer. “You…” Tim pauses, tilts his head, then continues. “What?”

“You broke Tim.” Duke comments, though he doesn’t seem fully there either.

“I don’t understand.” Damian furrows his brows look from Duke to Tim. Finally, he decides to look over at Jason.

Jason doesn’t seem tense, the only sign he was was the hand he had clenched together in a fist, which he quickly got rid of. In reality, it’s his face that gives him away. Jason’s always been emotional, you could read his emotions far too easy off his face if you were trained to do so. It’s a good thing he wears a helmet. “Hell. You went to hell.”

“Yes.” Damian says, because, was it ever a secret? Did he forget to mention that? He didn’t exactly have to write a mission report on his death. “I assume you did not.” His voice is stiff. Hell isn’t his favorite topic.

“No. I didn’t.” Jason confirms.

“How was Heaven?” His tone is slightly bitter, he can’t help it. Even though he knows Jason was good pre-death. Didnt lay a finger on a soul, and when he did, they were deserving of it and walked away breathing just fine.

“Wouldn’t know.” Jason shrugs. “Wasn’t important enough to get either.” He explains.

and yk bonding brother stuff. the potential is just sitting there untouched. like if someone doesn’t use it ill tweak out. feel free to rec fics, im clearly in need. only crossover fics id enjoy are marvel/mcu and criminal minds.

use this for an idea if you want, give credit obv.

edit: i've been informed that jason, in some iterations, did go to heaven but just doesn't remember it. so...even better ngl.

crisis of faith, thinking there's no heaven and hell, then boom bro finds out he actually did go to heaven. also the little writing bit i did was made in like twenty minutes at like 3 am, so sorry for it being shit. if i do ever get a great incredible idea for a fic on that, ill let yall know.

[vanyatas]

can you do Ben headcanons? ^_^ I loved your Toby ones(^^)

i might be out of touch with BEN !! but i’m gonna try to do my best STRAIGHTLY AVOIDING how he was in 2013 (a freak.)

BEN DROWNED HCS

GENERAL HCS:

Another firm belief he is just. Short. (no shade to my short kings, me too..)

5’1.

Cyberpunk style.

His voice sounds very glitchy and electronic.

Layered neck length hair.

Blonde obviously!

Also has Jeff cut his bangs, he likes the layers a lot.

He definitely uses the floating he has to make himself feel taller.

3 Piercings on his ears but nothing else.

Elf ears!!!

Loves Phonk music, Or anything with cool noises/Electronic sounds.

The Weeknd, Pastel Ghost, Blink182, Daft Punk, Crystal Castles, Laura Les, Odetari, Grimes, Machine Girl, 1nonly, Eternxlkz, SXID, NUEKI, Akiaura, Sidewalks and Skeletons, MGMT, S3RL, Grimes, Yeule fan!!

Definitely makes his own music

Only noises and sounds he does NOT want to sing ever he just likes the way music can make you feel.

Puts his music on soundcloud.

I know Jeff is in the comments saying “delete ts bro 🔥🔥.”

It’s actually really good.

LOVES Vintage video games but he’s also on overwatch 2, LOL, the finals, Roblox, DBD, Apex, PUBG, CSGO, Valorant, RS6 Siege, and Fortnite.

Yes he’s fucking GOATED at all of them.

Genuinely means it when he threatens to DOX people on any of them.

Very nerd behavior.

Stubborn and an Asshole.

Has multiple accounts on each of the multiplayer games just because it’s too much of a risk to gain popularity.

A lot of his rude traits are just from him having an ego over being good at games and getting compliments all the time.

NOTTT a pervert whatsoever.

This mfker is a gamer he is 100% awkward around anyone he finds attractive.

Mansplains video game lore if ANYONE gets the TINIEST fact wrong.

Tangents about LOZ, Mario, and Smash bros.

ROMANTIC HCS:

I’m so serious when I say he calls you his discord kitten.

Most of the time it’s ironic.

But it catches on so much he’s definitely just enjoying it.

Playing video games 80% of the time!!!

Builds you your own pc.

No console bullshit only the best for his partner.

Matching skins on EVERY GAME.

And matching users.

Definitely goes into vc to crash out if people are being dickheads to you, or if they’re trying to intervene and hit on you.

Going with the pc building he also makes your setup gorgeous, however you want it.

Usually I’m not keen on using this terminology but he is a SIMP bro.

Thinks you’re just so pretty. Anything you ask of him he will do it.

Head on your chest, just. staring at you for as long as you let him.

Loves to have his face held too.

Following you around anywhere, on his switch, Gameboy, DS, he just loves being around you.

Will explain any sort of lost media/video game if you ask him about it.

If you’re ever just on your computer or phone doing your own thing, he will either pop his head through to give you a kiss, or leave pop ups that says he loves you and he misses you.

Very clingy.

You need to hold him so much.

He’s not affection deprived especially because he gets that sort of platonic shit from Jeff.

But once BEN has a s/o he is just crazy in love with them.

100% calls you princess, baby, kitten, and doll face.

I noticed every time I write for someone i just instantly get a crush on them. it’s not good.

reblogs / follows / likes appreciated!!

[melanatedeuph0ria]

the boy is mine ⋆˙⟡♡

rick grimes x black!fem! reader

since he’d arrived in alexandria, you and rick have gone from complete strangers to close friends. you’d proven to be extremely useful to his team-after all, you were a great shot and had skin tougher than steel. but now, you’ve started seeing rick in a different, more romantic light. will your newly-developed crush on the police officer be reciprocated as you’d dreamed?

summary: you and rick go on a run for supplies. some hidden feelings get uncovered along the way.

NOTE: this fic takes place in alexandria era BEFORE negan (i’m guessing like s6 bc i forgot)

a/n: MY FIRST FIC EVER AAAAA i’m hoping its ok bc i’m literally just going w the flow lmao

also sorry ts took so fucking long i still have school n stuff guys 🙏🏽😞

genre: fluff, angst, hurt, comfort idk

warnings: blood, zombies, cursing, use of n word, near-death experience

“y/n! you ready to head out?”, rick yelled as he leaned against a silver sedan parked in front of Alexandria’s gates.

after finding yourself caught in a conversation with maggie and glenn, you quickly swooped your head around to acknowledge the gruff man, your eyes widening at the sound of his southern drawl lingering on your name.

“yeah, I’m comin’!” you croaked, creasing your lips into a nervous smile. after a moment, you made your way over to his car, backpack slung over your back.

you and rick were headed to a small, nearby grocery store that an old-time alexandrian claimed was hidden away from the frequent commotion of the town. there was a 50/50 chance that it might’ve or might’ve not been looted, but you both weren’t willing to skimp out on this rare opportunity. after all, the community was running short on food and supplies-it started getting obvious that it was once people were given smaller portion sizes than normal.

and it was you who, stupidly enough, agreed to check out the area with none other than your best friend you’ve been harboring a crush on, rick grimes.

you were intrigued with the man from the moment he stepped foot into alexandria-he lowkey terrified you, him AND his group, but that only sparked your urge to get to know them a bit more. you didn’t actively seek interaction with them- it was by really by circumstance when you had the chance to kinda intermingle with them all. you forgot how you and rick even met each other, to be honest. he knew you were a good shot and had skin tough as nails, that’s for sure. you had grown into something of a maternal figure for Carl, his teenage son, although it took a while for him to finally warm up to you. you couldn’t blame him, to be honest. you knew he’d been through some rough shit-he told you about his mom and what he was forced to do to her after she’d been bitten and just delivered judith, his month-old half-sister. nonetheless, you and rick were both each other’s rocks; he cared for you unlike anyone else in alexandria, and you adored certain things about him-his deep, southern voice when he gently called your name. the traces of vanilla and bourbon cologne left on his clothes despite sweating all day-most of the time he didn’t even bother trying to put it on, but the days he did, you subconsciously noticed. him surprising you with 90’s rnb album CDs that he’d snatched on his runs- once he’d surprised you with a whole erykah badu album, and since then, you’ve kept it under lock and key inside your nightstand. his damp, ruffled hair as he stops by your house for a towel to dry it off because he never seemed to have any of his own; you let him in without much question, of course, but for the past few weeks he’s been on your porch steps, your heart’s been pumping at speeds you’ve never experienced before-at least, not in a while-a zombie apocalypse ruins one’s concept of love when the one you’re in love with can slip from your fingers in a heartbeat.

but could it be? could you really be in love with your best friend in a zombie apocalypse? you were sure of it, but horrified to know if he felt the same, which is why you didn’t even realize your leg was was anxiously bouncing up and down on the floor of the car until…

“y/n. you alright?”

“huh? oh y-yeah, i’m good. what’s wrong?”

“nothin’, you’re just..extra quiet.”

“do i need to start talkin’?” you didn’t mean for that to come off as rude as it did. you were just nervous, nervous about what he’d tell you if you told him how you truly felt.

“no, no, it’s fine. you don’t gotta say nothin’ if you don’t feel like it.”

aww shit, now i feel bad, you thought. you tried your hardest not to sink into the car seat in shame so he wouldn’t notice yet another thing off about you today. you tilted your head to the window.

“we made it.” in what seemed like a flash, you and Rick were parked outside the convenience store. did you zone out that hard? not that it mattered anymore. you climbed out of the car and you both took a closer look at the store. it was abandoned all right-at least, it could’ve just looked that way-but it still looked intact. untouched by the world. you hoped that would also apply to whatever awaited inside.

bigger than what i thought it’d be, you thought as you peered at the building.

“bigger than i thought it would be.” rick said aloud.

is this nigga reading my mind..? you thought. “let’s just hope there’s no walkers on the inside.” you said in an attempt to reassure yourself that there were no undead lurking around.

You looked back at Rick for a response or some sort of agreement, but when you did, out of the corner of your eye you saw him damn near snap his neck just to stare back at the store. he cleared his throat loudly. the gesture alone radiated an anxious energy, something you had almost never sensed in the man since knowing him. it was kinda like he was afraid of getting caught…wait…

..was rick staring at you? and how long had you gone without even noticing?

if he was staring, it certainly wasn’t for no reason. you are undoubtedly stunning, so much in fact that some people were envious of your beauty before and during the apocalypse. your rich, brown skin, glistening in the hot, june sun, and your thick, coily hair, pulled into a low puff, were just a few of your most admirable features, both inside and out.

shaking the thought off your mind, you both finally approached the building, carefully peeling open its glass doors and sliding inside. you knew the drill already, but rick felt the need to tell you again, which wasn’t to your surprise at this point. “i’ll take the left side, you take the right. we’ll use our walkies to communicate-if you’re in trouble, i’ll be right there, alright?” you nodded in compliance-you both knew you could handle yourself-but you couldn’t help but bite down a smile when he said that. his low, whispery voice was strangely reassuring, like he cared for you as a lover instead of a friend. you felt your cheeks begin to burn-it’s not really like he could tell anyway, for obvious reasons, but also because it was dark as hell in the store- you assumed the owners didn’t survive long enough to pay the electricity bill.

you were shocked to see that the aisles were just barely looted-you we’re expecting them to show signs of being scavenged at least a bit, but there they were, filled to the brim with food that would just about save Alexandria from starvation.

you clicked on your walkie and held it up to your mouth. “holy shit.” is all that could manage to come out of your mouth right now.

“looks like we hit the jackpot.” rick replied on the on the other line. he already knew what your “holy shit” meant.

with caution, you strolled down the “canned goods” aisle, looking up and down each section in awe. you came to an abrupt stop in front of one of the rows, gazing at everything in stock until your eyes settled on a can of peaches. you knew they were probably expired, you expected everything else in there to be, but you were curious to see what the expiration date read on its back, to see how long it’d been since the world went to hell. you held the can in your left hand, examining the date on its back: 10/18/09; it’d been expired a year before the apocalypse even began…

didn’t think it’d be that expired.., you murmured to yourself as you creased your lips into a disgusted frown. just as you began to set the specimen back on the shelf, a loud thud from underneath the rack sent it bouncing upwards, startling you so badly that the can slipped from your fingers and splattered onto the floor into a mushy mess. somehow, there was a walker under there, reaching its pale, maggot-infested limbs out to grasp at your leg. your eyes immediately traveled to the undead as you quickly thought of how you could quickly end its 2nd life. you frantically tugged your imprisoned foot backwards in an attempt to break free, reaching into your leather sheath and pulling out your dagger halfway, but, soon enough, you were met with an even more terrifying scenario. your back clashed violently with the rack behind you, and a walker on the other side, suddenly aroused by the sound and the smell of your human flesh, reached its spindly hand through a wide, open hole in the decaying rack. its hand curled around your throat with enough pressure to keep you pinned to the shelf while you also tried to free your leg from the walker below you.

“RICK, I NEED HELP!” you yelled out into the aisle. it was a risky move and could probably attract even more walkers than what was already threatening you, but you couldn’t get a good grip on your dagger and that was the only weapon you had. calling for backup was the only option you had left.

the oncoming presence of death pricked at prodded at your skin like thorns. the thought that-in that moment, you could be bitten, and all of your hopes and ambitions for the future could immediately be crushed-left you speechless, stricken with terror.

just as the walker grabbing at your neck prepared to take a bite out of it, rick appeared and stabbed it right in its head. just after you finally freed yourself from its grasp, the man noticed the walker on the ground and stomped on its skull, leaving a bloody, mushy mess on the floor, but you were too panicked to even notice.

an exasperated sigh escaped your mouth. “oh my God, rick, you’re a lifesaver-“

your rushed, panicky words were interrupted when he suddenly crashed his lips onto yours. your eyes immediately widened at the sensation of his coarse lips pressing onto yours, soft and plump, then slowly fluttered shut. your breathing, at first rapid and filled with anxiety, had simmered down into slow and steady breaths as his lips passionately devoured yours. almost subconsciously, he trailed his right hand, roughened with scars and calluses, on the nape of your neck, holding you closer than ever before as he rested his left hand on your hip. his ocean blue eyes drifted shut as he explored you, desperate for your touch, before he slowly pulled away from the kiss to give you some time to breathe. you fluttered your eyes back open and waited for him to look up at you.

“i’m-i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have done that, just so randomly. fuck…” rick babbled rapid apologies before a frustrated, shaky sigh escaped from his mouth. without thinking, you cupped his cheek, burning with the embarrassment of his decision, and leaned into him, rewarding him with a kiss of your own; it only seemed fair after he saved your life and your heart in only a matter of seconds. his eyes fluttered shut at your touch as your other hand tangled into his neatly combed hair. you let the feeling of your lips gently pressed together linger for a few seconds before you slowly pulled away. you felt your heart buzzing with excitement but also with relief, now that you knew that he’d been storing feelings for you this entire time. a confident grin appeared on your face as you looked up at him.

“i like you too, grimes.”

-the end. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

[collecting-stories]

I just imagine nuzzling into rick grimes’ s neck after a long day and him just stroking my hair.

Birch - Rick Grimes

Summary: just some escapism featuring Rick being soft and dreamy.

A/N: Thanks for being so super patient. I know this was requested eons ago and I so apologize. Feels like life is knocking me around a lot lately and I haven't gotten to write like I want to.

TS Anthology Series | The Walking Dead Masterlist

✰ so I cannot leave, yes, I must here stay ✰

There was no sure way to determine exactly what hour of the day it was, probably mid-evening given the warmer temperature and the just setting sun. If daylights savings still existed and the sun was still setting at the time that it used to before the entire world fell apart then you had to wager a guess that it was sometime close to 7pm...maybe 7:30pm even. You had stayed on Eastern Standard Time, not that stuff like that even mattered anymore. Really the only thing you could be certain of was the ache in your joints and muscles and the fact that the sun was setting. Blue hour was upon you. 

Alexandria still felt relatively new, even after the few months that you'd been living inside the walls, but you had already gotten used to the possibility of a shower after a long day. It was impossible to tell accurate time and you made do waking up with the sun and trying your hardest to go to bed with it too, unless you found yourself the unlucky candidate for night watch. Tonight you had no responsibilities once you crossed the threshold into your house though, just a shower and food and sleep. You had planned it in that order but the moment you turned off the water and changed into clean clothes you were collapsing on the bed, your body sinking into the soft surface. You were halfway to being completely out of it when you felt the bed sink down behind you and you shifted onto your other side, coming face to face with Rick. 

"Well if this isn't the best sight in the world," you mumbled, moving in as close as possible, pressing a kiss on the underside of his chin.

"I asked Carl where you were when you weren't at dinner, he said you came up to shower."

"Hoping to catch me in a compromising position?" You teased though you were only half-aware of what you were even saying, still far too tired to be completely awake. 

"Oh most definitely," Rick laughed and you could feel the sensation of it. "You doing okay?"

"Just tired," you replied, nuzzling further into his neck, bread tickling your skin, as he ran a hand up and down your back soothingly. "You got stuff to do?"

Rick hummed in response. You couldn't see his face, but judging by the way that his hand had slowed its monotonous movements and his breathing was starting to even out you were certain that his eyes were closed and he was on the way to sleep. He mumbled something, too indiscernible in both your tired states for either of you to be confident in what it was.

"What?" You chanced asking, lifting your head just enough to see the underside of his chin, beard thick now that it had grown back in. 

"Got dinner," he managed, eyes still closed, "downstairs."

"We should get up then?" You asked, slowly coming back to the living.

He hummed again, shaking his head just slightly, enough to let you know that he disagreed with that suggestion. This was the first time in two days that he'd even managed to lie down in bed. Lately he'd been falling asleep sitting up on the couch and then staying up for watch or because Judith was restless or any number of other reasons that drew his attention away from the bed in the upstairs bedroom that the two of you shared. 

"Rick," you whispered, kissing his jawline as gently as possible, reluctant to really wake him unless he wanted to be woken up. 

"I'm getting up," he promised, though he made no move to actually get up. 

"I can see that."

"I am, just give me like, five more minutes of this," Rick replied. 

You tucked yourself back into his side, closing your eyes against the fading sunlight coming through the window. No doubt someone would be coming upstairs, knocking on the door and disturbing your peace soon; there was always something that someone needed Rick for. But at least for five minutes (or just right now) you could pretend like all that didn't exist and it was just the two of you. 

[jon-sedai]

ASOIAF entities as main pop girlies

The Night's Watch = Katy Perry

Once upon a time, pop's most influential hit maker suddenly decided to dye her hair blonde and get a pixie cut, got political, and publicly spoke to a therapist who told her to get her shit together. Thus began her never-ending flop era.

In an unrelated sequence of events, Aegon I Targaryen (a weird blonde man) invaded Westeros, created a central political unit, told the different kingdoms to get their shit together, and cut off the NW's weekly supply of men since there were no more pointless wars going around. Thus began their never-ending flop era.

BTW Jon Snow is the NW's 'Harleys in Hawaii'....their first and only hit in a really long time :(

The Kingsguard = Taylor Swift

Very famous, very rich, very influential, actually has a history of producing incredible material. But every now and then, you get a pop album that's just so..... bleh :/ And is Jaime Lannister the Westeros version of Taylor's Reputation era? Idk, you tell me....

Also, remember how TS had a feud with KP but got more famous and successful as Katy faded into irrelevance? Yeah, me too. In the same vein, the KG continues to maintain its high reputation while its counterpart (the NW) becomes even more irrelevant than it already was, if that's even possible.

The Golden Company = Gaga

Exclusively for the gays and no one else. There's really no doubt about it. But Gaga hurt the fanbase when she decided to pivot into acting, which is currently giving her more success than the music stuff. The GC has a great reputation but comes from a history of flop rebellions. So they've pivoted to a "Targaryen" pretender in hopes that they can win big this time around.

The Rainbowguard = Charli XCX

Huh?? Shouldn't the Rainbow Guard be Gaga??!

Please 🙄 don't be ridiculous. They do not have the material, and that's the T. But they're both for the gals and the gays. And in the same way that Charli had like two hits then faded into the shadows, the Rainbow Guard really can only claim Loras and Brienne. The rest are inconsequential.

The Brotherhood Without Banners = Dula Peep (aka Dua Lipa)

Who doesn't know THE Albanian pop princess Dula Peep?? She new, she's hot, and she's from out of town! She's got good music, but critics say that she's been recycling the same sound for a while now which is getting stale. The BWB has fallen into the hands of a foreign red god, and critics say that they can't produce a hit anymore since they kept recycling the same Beric. They did it six times, which got a little stale...

The Faceless Men = Grimes

Grimes makes really good music, I think? Also, remember when she dated a douchebag billionaire, got dumped, then staged a PR stunt reading the communist manifesto? Me neither. Anyway, the FM are known for being very good assassins who sell their services for the highest price possible. They were also founded by slaves, but that's probably unrelated.

Maesters of the Citadel = SZA

The talent is there, the influence is there, and the reputation is there. But you cannot trust them because they like to lie a lot...unprovoked.

[BONUS] Robb Stark's Vanguard = Bebe Rexha

Bebe is responsible for some of the greatest pop hits of the 21st century; she's even written one of the greatest K-pop songs of all time, that's a whole other region!! She's the very face of talent, but she's unfortunately a blink and you'll miss it type of gal. The average Joe would most likely struggle to name more than two songs from her. Robb's Vanguard also has the talent. They have the material. But sadly, 90% of us would struggle to identify anyone not named Dacey Mormont. I mean, did you even remember that this group existed?

[BONUS] Tywin Lannister = Nicki Minaj

A very talented but messy bitch who likes to play around with extremely problematic people...do I need to elaborate any further?

[dorokoro-blog]

[nicofics]

Negan x Ricks eldest daughter reader

I smell angst (with a Happy Ending), enemies to lovers, secret relationship, etc.

𝙞 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪

𝘯𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

summary: the enemy’s fallen for you, can you fall for him too?

notes: thank you for the twd request!! sorry it took so long too!! i wrote this post ts, i thought it’d suit the plot more

being ricks daughter wasn’t easy. following his rules, having the high expectations to be as good as a leader he is, and having to stay away from negan. at the start these standards were easy to follow, you and your younger brother carl, and then the newly added judith; could easily follow them. until the end of the saviour war.

your father had been dead awhile now. you knew that he was gone, but some people clung onto the fact they hadn’t found a body. one day, you were given negans food instead of michonne. you tried handing it back but, they wouldn’t take it off of you. you rolled your eyes. you didn’t want to have to see negan. you didn’t want to be reminded of what he had done.

when you had gotten to his cell, you opened the door, and walked in, plate of food in hand. “well hello the- oh. i havent seen you in awhile” negan spoke, he looked different now. he had a beard, he looked older, but you did too. “and you wont for another while” you spoke, handing him the food and sitting in the chair provided, aware of his boycott.

“it’s nice to see a new face, doll” he said, it almost made you recoil. “don’t talk to me. just eat.” you crossed your legs angrily. trying to look at anything that wasn’t him. he noticed that as he ate, though he didn’t say much. he had a feeling you’d be back again.

you had been feeding negan for a few days now. you guessed michonne got sick of listening to him complain and wanted to spend more time with judith and rj. right now you didn’t mind, you felt absolutely horrible about it but, negan was nice to be around. you found yourself waiting for his meal times, sometimes you’d even bring your own food, so you two can eat together. you hated yourself for warming up to that man.

“well hello again, doll” he spoke, a smile plastered on his face, he was glad he could actually talk to someone, someone who seemed to not mind talking to him; unlike michonne. “hey negan” you sat down on the chair, taking out your own lunch and beginning to eat.

“hey uh- (reader)? why do you like coming here? with me? after all i’ve done to you” you froze at the question, you tried to avoid answering; “pshh- eat your lunch negan” he persisted. “answer me, why?” you sighed, giving in. “i know what you’ve done. and i’ll never forgive you for that or forget it; but, being with you here, makes me feel… good?” you didn’t really know what you were saying. though negan seemed to understand. a smirk landed right on his face.

“really? well, doll, i feel the same way” he blessed you with one of his chuckles. oh shit. you were in-love with him. and he was in-love with you. right now however, you didn’t care much for the repercussions. “so.. be with me” you nodded, “yeah.. id like that.. but! nobody can know. what if maggie or daryl found out? they’d hate me!” you sighed, negan shook his head “an alright rule with me if i can be with you, ms. grimes” you laughed. you enjoyed being with negan, even after all he’d done

[alyssaforevermore]

Unearthed ↦ Daryl Dixon season one, part eight

Synopsis: Based on the events of The Walking Dead television series, Y/N Grimes, younger sister of Rick Grimes, attempts to survive in a world now inhabited by walkers. Family has always meant everything to her, but in this new world, can she keep her family safe and together?

Show: The Walking Dead (S1-S11)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Warnings: coarse language, violence, character deaths, drug and alcohol references, series spoilers and general The Walking Dead content warnings!

Tags: @1ivinqdeadqir1 @callmeyn @thegeorgiahuntsman @mellxander1993 @bigbaldheadname @cjmonsterwolf @abbi23323 @actuallyklee @lanxsee @livingdeadblondequeen @sweetz1919 @moonmark98 @sarahbaker2010

Masterlist

You sat at the dining table the next morning, surrounded by your people but completely detached. You could hear sounds of laughter peek through here and there, but you were too lost in thought to make any sense of what was going on.

Shane and Rick had yet to join breakfast, and that was the only good thing on your mind. You didn’t know if you could face Rick after learning about Lori and Shane, and you weren’t sure you could stop yourself from attacking Shane when you saw him.

As if your mind had willed it, Rick appeared in front of you. He placed a hand on your shoulder in passing before making his way to Lori and kissing her on the cheek.

“Good morning.” He mumbled, sitting down beside Carl.

“Are you hungover?” Carl asked innocently. “Mom said you would be.”

“Mom is right.” Rick laughed.

“Mom has that annoying habit.” Lori smiled.

T-Dog appeared with a pan in hand. “Eggs. Powdered, but I do ‘em good.”

Glenn let out a groan, earning laughs from the group.

“I bet you can’t tell.” T-Dog continued. “Protein helps the hangover.”

Glenn groaned again, louder this time.

“Don’t ever let me drink again.”

Footsteps approached the table, causing you to look up. Shane walked slowly, his eyes fixed on Lori.

“Hey,” he spoke.

“Hey,” Rick smiled. “Feel as bad as I do?”

Shane poured himself a cup of coffee, sitting down at the table. “Worse.”

“What the hell happened to your neck?” T-Dog asked.

You eyed the scratches Lori had left there last night.

“I must’ve done it in my sleep.” Shane replied quietly.

“Never seen you do that before.” Rick responded.

“Me neither.” He looked at Lori. “Not like me at all.”

Lori kept her eyes on her food, ignoring Shane’s presence. You wished you could do the same. All you could feel was burning anger. Shane avoided meeting your gaze, probably expecting a confrontation if he dared look your way. 

“Good morning.” Dr. Jenner spoke, entering the dining area.

“Hey, Doc.” Shane responded.

Dale stood for his seat, stepping over to the man. “Doctor, I don’t mean to slam you with questions first thing-”

“But you will anyway.” Dr. Jenner sighed.

“Look, we didn’t come here for the eggs, as nice as they are.” You spoke.

Dr. Jenner nodded. “I guess now is as good a time as any. Follow me.”

Everyone stood from their seats, following Dr. Jenner out of the room and down the hallway. You arrived at a lab, the lights powering on at his command.

“VI, give me a playback of TS-19.” He spoke.

“Playpack of TS-19.”

Dr. Jenner looked back at you all. “Few people ever got a chance to see this. Very few people.”

On the wall, a large display showed various 3-D views of a human skull.

“Is that a brain?” Carl asked excitedly.

“An extraordinary one.” Dr. Jenner hummed. “Not that it matters in the end. VI, take us in for E.I.V.”

“Enhanced internal view.”

The screen transitioned to a view of the person’s shoulders and up, moving into a horizontal view and zooming in to show more details. You could see the inside of this person’s skull, lit up with bright blue threads. Some areas were darker than others, but you could see these threads throughout the brain. They were pulsating.

“What are those lights?” Shane asked.

“It’s a person’s life—experiences, memories. It’s everything.” Dr. Jenner responded. “Somewhere in all that organic wiring, all those ripples of light, is you—the thing that makes you unique and human.”

“You don’t make sense ever?” Daryl asked.

“Those are synapses. Electric impulses in the brain that carry all the messages. They determine everything a person says or does or thinks from the moment of birth to the moment of death.”

“Death?” Rick asked. “That’s what this is, a vigil?”

“Yes. Or, rather the playback of the vigil.”

Andrea stepped closer. “This person died? Who were they?”

“Test subject 19. Someone who was bitten and infected… and volunteered to have us record the process. VI, Scan forward to the first event.”

“Scanning to the first event.”

You could now see that the brain’s lights were still flickering on the outside, but dark roots had begun taking over the inside.

“What is that?” You asked.

“It invades the brain like meningitis. The adrenal glands hemorrhage, the brain goes into shutdown, then the major organs. Then death. Everything you ever were or ever will be… gone.”

Sophia looked up at Carol. “Is that what happened to Jim?”

Carol nodded.

You noticed a tear roll down Andrea’s cheek, something Dr. Jenner had picked up on as well.

“She lost somebody two days ago.” Lori explained. “Her sister.”

“I lost somebody too. I know how devastating it is.” Dr. Jenner nodded. “VI, scan to the second event.”

“Scanning to the second event.”

“The resurrection times vary wildly. We had reports of it happening in as little as three minutes.” Dr. Jenner explained. “The longest we heard of was eight hours. In the case of this patient, it was two hours, one minute… seven seconds.”

A red glow began to flicker at the base of the brain, as the rest of it remained dark. Sparks shot out into larger areas of the brain.

“It restarts the brain?” Lori asked.

“Just the brain stem. Basically, it gets them up and moving.”

“But, they’re not alive?” Rick asked.

Dr. Jenner pointed to the monitor. “You tell me.”

“It’s nothing like before. Most of that brain is dark.”

“Dark, lifeless, dead. The frontal lobe, the neocortex, the human part—that doesn’t come back. The you part.  Just a shell driven by mindless instinct.”

The subject on screen began to move, its mouth opening and closing as its head thrashed from side to side. Suddenly, the barrel of a gun appeared by the forehead and a bullet entered the brain. The red clusters slowly disappeared as the brain went dark and the subject stopped moving.

“God, what was that?” Carol whispered.

“He shot his patient in the head.” Andrea spoke. “Didn’t you?”

Dr. Jenner turned away, beginning to head for the door. “VI, power down the main screen and the workstations.”

“Powering down the main screen and workstations.”

“You have no idea what this is, do you?” Andrea pressed.

“It could be microbial, viral, parasitic, fungal.”

“Or the wrath of God?” Jacqui asked.

“There is that.”

“Somebody must know something. Somebody somewhere.” Andrea spoke.

“There are others, right? Other facilities?” Carol inquired.

Dr. Jenner shrugged. “There may be some.”

“But you don’t know?” You asked. “How can you not know?”

“Everything went down. Communications, directives—all of it. I’ve been in the dark for almost a month.”

“So it’s not just here.” Andrea whispered. “There’s nothing left anywhere? Nothing? That’s what you’re really saying, right?”

Daryl shook his head. “Man, I’m gonna get shitfaced drunk again.”

“Dr. Jenner, I know this has been taxing for you and I hate to ask one more question,” Dale spoke. “But that clock—it’s counting down. What happens at zero?”

“The basement generators run out of fuel.”

“And then?” Rick asked.

Dr. Jenner ignored him, fully stepping out of the room.

“VI,” you started. “What happens when the power runs out?”

“When the power runs out, facility-wide decontamination will occur.”

You all exchanged glances, whispers erupting through your group. Whatever that meant, you knew it couldn’t be good.

“We have to go check.” Shane spoke.

“I’ll go with you.” Rick nodded. “Everyone else, back to your rooms.”

…

After sitting in your room for a while, the lights and air conditioning shut down. You peeked your head out the door, noticing the others slowly emerging from their own rooms.

“Why is the air off?” Carol asked.

“The lights are out too.” You commented.

“What’s going on?” Daryl asked, stepping out of his room with a whiskey bottle in hand. “What is everything turned off?”

Dr. Jenner walked by, grabbing the bottle from Daryl and taking a sip. “Energy use is being prioritized.”

“Air isn’t a priority? Lights?” Dale asked.

“I don’t make the rules. Zone five is shutting itself down.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” You asked.

Dr. Jenner kept walking, ignoring your question.

“Hey,” Daryl yelled. “Answer her.”

You all followed him down the hall, into the main room once more.

“Hey, I’m talking to you!” You shouted. “What do you mean it’s shutting itself down? How can a building even do that?”

“You’d be surprised.” Dr. Jenner responded coldly.

Rick and Shane came running towards your group.

“Jenner, what’s happening?” Rick asked.

“The system is dropping all the nonessential uses of power. It’s designed to keep the computers running to the last possible second. That started as we approached the half-hour mark. Right on schedule.” Dr. Jenner took another sip from the bottle. “It was the French.”

“What?” Andrea asked.

“They were the last ones to hold out as far as I know. While our people were bolting out the doors and committing suicide in the hallways, they stayed in the labs till the end. They thought they were close to a solution.”

“What happened?”

“The same thing that’s happening here. No power grid. Ran out of juice. The world runs on fossil fuel.  I mean, how stupid is that?”

Shane stepped forward. “Let me tell you–”

“To Hell with it, Shane. I don’t even care.” Rick spoke. “Lori, grab our things. Everybody, get your stuff. We’re getting out of here now!”

An alarm began to sound, stopping you all in your tracks.

“Thirty minutes to decontamination.” VI spoke.

“Doc, what’s going on here?” Daryl asked.

Dr. Jenner once again ignored the question, scanning his badge and entering a code into a security pad.

“Y’all heard Rick.” Shane mumbled. “Get your stuff and let’s go. Now!”

As you all ran towards the door, it whirred to life, slowly closing in front of you.

“Did you just lock us in?” Glenn asked. “He just locked us in!”

Dr. Jenner sat down at a computer. “We’ve hit the thirty-minute window. I’m recording.”

“You son of a bitch!” You hissed, running towards him.

Before anyone could reach you, you grabbed the bottle of whiskey from his hand, smashing it on the floor. Daryl quickly joined you, trying to grab Dr. Jenner but being pulled away by Rick and Shane.

“Let me go!” Daryl screamed.

“Jenner, open that door now.” Rick spoke.

“There’s no point. Everything topside is locked down. The emergency exits are sealed.”

“Well, open the damn things.” Dale responded.

“That’s not something I control. The computers do.” Dr. Jenner spoke. “I told you once that front door closed, it wouldn’t open again. You heard me say that. It’s better this way.”

“What is?” Rick asked. “What happens in twenty-eight minutes?”

Dr. Jenner typed on the computer.

“What the hell happens in twenty-eight minutes?” You pressed.

Dr. Jenner stood from his seat, shouting. “Do you know what this place is?! We protected the public from very nasty stuff! Weaponized smallpox! Ebola strains that could wipe out half the country! Stuff you don’t want getting out! Ever!” Everyone stared at the man as he regained his composure, sitting back down. “In the event of a catastrophic power failure—in a terrorist attack, for example—H.I.T.s are deployed to prevent any organisms from getting out.”

“H.I.T.s?” You asked.

“VI, define.”

“H.I.T.s—high-impulse thermo baric fuel-air explosives consist of a two-stage aerosol ignition that produces a blast wave of significantly greater power and duration than any other known explosive except nuclear. The vacuum-pressure effect ignites the oxygen at between 5,000 degrees and 6,000 degrees and is useful when the greatest loss of life and damage to structures is desired.”

“It sets the air on fire.” Dr. Jenner spoke. “No pain.”

Carl and Sophia erupted into tears, clinging onto their mothers.

“An end to sorrow, grief…regret. Everything.”

You clenched your fists, stepping towards the man once more. “Open the door right now.”

Shane grabbed a fire ax that was leaning against one of the desks, running at the door and beginning to hit it. Daryl grabbed the other, joining him.

“You should’ve left well enough alone. It would have been so much easier.”

“Easier for who?” Lori spat.

“All of you. You know what’s out there. A short brutal life and an agonizing death.” Dr. Jenner turned to Andrea. “Your—your sister—what was her name?”

“Amy.”

“Amy. You know what this does. You’ve seen it.” Dr. Jenner looked at Rick. “Is that what you really want for your wife and son? Your sister?”

“I don’t want this!” Rick snapped.

Shane walked back to the group. “We can’t make a dent.”

“Those doors are designed to withstand a rocket launcher.”

“Well, your head ain’t!” Daryl yelled, swinging his ax at Jenner.

Dale, Rick and Shane held him back.

“You do want this.” Dr. Jenner spoke to Rick. “Last night you said you knew it was just a matter of time before everybody you loved was dead.”

You looked at your brother, face pale. “You said what?”

Shane shook his head. “After all your big talk, you really said that?”

Rick looked between you and Lori, his face soft. “I had to keep hope alive, didn’t I?”

“There is no hope.” Dr. Jenner spoke. “There never was.”

“There’s always hope.” Rick responded. “Maybe it won’t be you, maybe not here but somebody somewhere—”

“What part of ‘everything is gone’ do you not understand?” Andrea asked.

“Listen to your friend. She gets it. This is what takes us down. This is our extinction event.”

“This isn’t right.” Carol shook her head, now crying as well. “You can’t just keep us here!”

“One tiny moment—a millisecond. No pain.”

“My daughter doesn’t deserve to die like this.”

“Wouldn’t it be kinder, more compassionate just to hold your loved ones and wait for the clock to run down?”

Shane grabbed a shotgun, cocking it and aiming it at the man’s head.

“Shane, stop it!” Rick commanded.

“Out of the way, Rick!” Shane snapped, his eyes locked on Dr. Jenner. “Open that door or I’m gonna blow your head off. Do you hear me?”

“Brother, brother, this is not the way you do this. We will never get out of here.”

“Shane, please listen to him.” Lori pleaded.

“It’s too late.”

“If he dies, we all–”

Shane let out a scream, shifting his gun to the computer and beginning to shoot off rounds. Rick screamed his name, wrestling the gun out of his hands. Shane fell to the floor.

“Are you done now?” Rick asked, panting. “Are you done?”

Shane caught his breath, standing back up. “Yeah, I guess we all are.”

Rick turned to Dr. Jenner. “I think you’re lying.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re lying about no hope. If that were true, you’d have bolted with the rest or taken the easy way out. You didn’t. You chose the hard path. Why?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Dr. Jenner whispered.

“It does matter. It always matters. You stayed when others ran. Why?”

“I made a promise.” He responded, pointing to the screen. “To her. My wife.”

“TS-19 was your wife?” Lori asked.

“She begged me to keep going as long as I could. How could I say no?” Dr. Jenner asked. “She was dying. It should’ve been me on that table. I wouldn’t have mattered to anybody. She was a loss to the world.  Hell, she ran this place. I just worked here. In our field she was an Einstein. Me? I’m just… Edwin Jenner. She could’ve done something about this. Not me.”

Rick shook his head. “Your wife didn’t have a choice. You do. That’s—that’s all we want—a choice, a chance.”

“Let us keep trying as long as we can.” Lori spoke.

Dr. Jenner was silent for a moment. “I told you, the topside is locked down. I can’t open those.” 

He walked over to the security pad he’d used earlier, typing in a code. Suddenly, the door slowly opened once more.

“Come on!” Daryl screamed, waving everyone over.

As everyone began to run towards the door, you stood still, paralyzed. Rick looked back, noticing that you hadn’t moved.

“Y/N, we have to go now.” He spoke.

You shook your head. “I-I can’t.”

Rick signaled for Lori and Carl to go with the others before heading back over to you. “We don’t have time for this. I need you to come with me. Please.”

“You said you knew we were all going to die.” You choked out. “What if you’re right? I don’t want to die out there. Not the way everyone dies now.”

“I was drunk. I wasn’t thinking straight.” Rick frowned. “What did you say back in the city?”

“What?”

“Back in the city, you said we needed to stick together. That’s the way we get things done.” Rick spoke. “That’s still true. If we’re together, we will make it. We will survive. Please, don’t do this.”

You looked off to the side, noticing that Jacqui was sitting with Dr. Jenner. Andrea sat on the floor, with Dale across from her, pleading for her to go with him. 

It wasn’t like you wanted to die; you wanted nothing more than to live a long, happy life with the people you loved. You were just scared, now more than ever. What if Dr. Jenner was right? Would you regret not staying?

“Please.” Rick begged once more.

Your thoughts drifted to your nephew and suddenly, you knew you couldn’t stay. You couldn’t do that to him.

You nodded vigorously, wiping your eyes. “Okay.”

Rick smiled softly, pulling you out of the room. When you arrived at the main entrance, everyone was scrambling to break through the glass windows to escape.

“Man, we’ve tried everything.” Daryl spoke.

“Wait,” Carol mumbled, reaching into her bag. “Rick, I have something that might help.”

“Carol, I don’t think a nail file’s gonna do it.”

“Your first morning at camp, when I washed your uniform I found this in your pocket.” Carol pulled out a hand grenade. 

Rick looked at it, then back up at her before grabbing it from her hand. “Everyone, get back!”

Everyone took cover, peeking over at Rick as he removed the pin and placed the grenade on the window sill. He stepped back, running away as quickly as his legs would take him. 

The grenade exploded, sending Rick flying through the air as the glass shattered behind him. Everyone wasted no time, standing up and running towards their only exit. 

Walkers surrounded the building, you all knocking them down as you raced towards your cars. Nobody spoke, too focused on making it as far away from the building as possible.

You made your way inside Dale’s RV, rushing to the window to watch for him. Praying that even if Andrea stayed, he wouldn’t. As your hope was beginning to run out, the pair appeared in the window of the building, climbing out to freedom. Rick honked his horn in the car behind you, screaming for the two to get down. 

Dale and Andrea climbed behind some sand bags in the grass, just before a loud explosion went off. You watched as the building collapsed in a fiery blaze, swallowing all the walkers close by. Nearby cars and trucks exploded as well. 

As the explosion died down, Dale and Andrea stood back up, running towards the RV.

“Get in!” Glenn spoke, opening the door for them.

The two nearly fell into the RV, both panting loudly. Dale reached for Andrea, but she pushed his hand away, crawling further inside.

With no real plan of what to do next, Dale climbed in the driver's seat and began down the road you’d come from just yesterday. You continued to stare at what used to be the CDC, a thick cloud of black smoke filling the Atlanta sky. 

If you had stayed, you’d be dead right now. You wouldn’t have to worry about where you’d land next. You wouldn’t have to worry about where you’d get your next meal, or when you’d finally be able to sleep again.

Regret started to settle in as you watched the remains of the CDC slowly disappear behind you.

----

AN: There we have it, the finale of season one! I honestly can't believe we're here already. I really hope you enjoyed this season and are excited for the future of this series. I've tried to set up a few different things moving into season two. There might be a mini break between seasons, but I will be working away on writing in the mean time. If you enjoyed, please remember to like/reblog <3

[n1-adora-fan]

Best Friend Squad Headcannons: Music Taste

Full disclosure this is very much guided by the music I am personally into so take what you will from these but I am not open for criticism 🙂‍↔️

Bow:

Kpop girl groups

- Twice (he def knows the choreo to What Is Love? by heart)

- Chuu !!!

- Iz*one, Illit, Red Flavor by Red Velvet, Loona

- lots of girl crush concept songs

Also feeling like classical

Glimmer:

Kpop

- not sure whether Glimmer got Bow into it or vice versa or they bonded over it when they first met but it’s definitely a point in their relationship that they both like it

- Boy groups (but I don’t know anything about them so I can’t go into any specifics)

- Girl group taste is definitely more of the horror / dark stuff so Dreamcatcher and some Red Velvet (Peek-A-Boo, Cosmic, Chill Kill, 28 Reasons), Minnie’s new EP

Electronic / dance

- Charli xcx (I just know she was big into brat summer)

Dare I say MCR also

Catra:

Male manipulator music

- The Smiths, Radiohead, The Cure

Female manipulator music

- Clairo, Phoebe Bridgers, Fiona Apple

- Lana del Rey

- Heavy on Grimes

Fleetwood Mac

Adora:

Basic white girl pop

- Lady Gaga

- Sabrina Carpenter (she gives an a+ impression of heterosexuality when she comes on)

- Chappell Roan

- haven’t decided whether she listens to pop Taylor yet

Country

- The Giver by Chappell Roan ofc ofc

- Kasey Musgraves, maybe some early TS