#he is still grieving walker

[jaredwalkersam]

Jared and Gen Padalecki || I've never said this before || podcast

[itsgrimeytime]

like father, like son || Rick Grimes (TWD) x gn!Reader

AVAILABLE ON AO3

request for @zomb-1-egutzz

Inspiration: I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys

Summary: Taking care of Carl, was like instinct. Ever since you've met him, you've just cared for him like your own. You don't know why, you just slotted into his side. And you thought that was pretty simple. But, what you had never thought about, was what it would mean for Rick.

TWs: mention of Lori's death, mention of Hershel's death, mention of Beth's death, angst, crying, essentially a panic attack, pent-up emotions, cursing, blood, gunshot wounds, injuries, unrequited love (but not really), and all things TWD.

[[A/N: hey bestie <333, hope you like it. I write as a stress reliever but this one kinda hurt a little bit. And just fyi, Carl is alive and well, (canon is not real, so it will not hurt me). Also, Rick is down bad in this. Terribly down bad. Enjoy :))) ]]

You were a long-time family friend of the Greene's, and when you had nowhere else to go, you went to Hershel's farm. Even before the apocalypse, you helped when you could on the farm, and you knew all of them really well. A little like they were family.

But when it all started... everything went to shit for you pretty quickly.

And you... you had nowhere else to go.

With your family's blood on your hands and visions of unhinged jaws (that you didn't think you'd ever wash away), you ran as fast as you could. You just let your feet guide you and ended up on the Greene farm.

You still remember how hard they hugged you when you showed up, even with the blood (their blood) all over you. They held you then and kept you breathing for a long time. You don't know what you would've done without them.

But one day (after weeks of being helpless and grieving a loss you just couldn't get over, not really), you just pushed it all down with one motto: keep breathing.

You didn't get to enjoy life anymore, how could you? The world was ending, and all you needed to do was stay alive.

You didn't have to like it.

So you asked Hershel how to shoot a gun, and taught yourself how to use a knife. You knew Hershel didn't like it, the violence, but you wouldn't hear it. Because if your family had lost their lives, you sure as hell weren't losing yours.

The Greenes were worried about you, you could tell. Every day that went by where you didn't smile or laugh, and instead, practiced shooting bottles or killing a few walkers for the thrill of it, they stared at you just a little longer. With just a mix of worry and pity.

You didn't want to worry them, but you were just doing what you had to, to survive.

If you thought about your family... you'd probably run into the walkers. Tear the life out of your body yourself. How were you supposed to enjoy life when they got that privilege ripped away? It wasn't fair.

So, you avoided everything else and kept your focus on five things: breathing, shelter, protection, water, and food. That was it. You would even offer to go get things out of your own volition, and all your trips made you good at killing walkers. You did it effortlessly early on, and you're pretty sure the Greenes couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing.

But everything changed when a Dad showed up begging Hershel to save his kid.

That day had made your head spin, seeing a little boy have a gunshot wound. It made your eyes burn, and your head fill with what plagued your nightmares (unhinged jaws and bloody hands). You avoided the kid at all costs.

You hadn't initially known Rick, or even really wanted to (him, Lori, and Shane were definitely far too much for you to handle) but you were kind of the mediator. Hershel hated the violence that his group had, but he loved you. And Rick's group agreed with your 'violent' ways, so naturally, you sat right in the middle.

You didn't want it, perse, but you got used to it pretty quickly. You truly couldn't count on both hands how many times you had to step physically in between Hershel and Rick. So, somehow, someway, you'd earned his trust and respect.

That being said, you didn't really talk. Rick had a lot on his shoulders, with a pregnant wife, an injured son, and whatever the hell he and Shane had going on (you stayed the fuck away from that). And you weren't really a 'get to know me' kind of person at the time.

But, everything shifted when his kid got better.

You watched him kind of roam around the farm a lot. Rick and Lori had a lot going on, you understood that, and you know Rick tried but he still looked... lonely. And there was something heavy in you that knew he wasn't going to really have a childhood, that he lost something so precious.

There was nothing different that day, at all. You woke up, made sure your knife was safe in your pocket and went out. You did that often, even though Hershel and the girls hated it, just disappeared into nearby neighborhoods or whatever buildings you could get into (you were getting good at picking locks). That day you were looking for anything you could get your hands on, anything.

Endlessly walking through a culdesac, darting in between each house, trying to find anything of value. Food, water, something to help with shelter-

Instead, you found something else.

In the dead grass of one of these classy houses' front yard was one soccer ball. It was dirty, but not too bad for the apocalypse (you had seen far worse, and were probably worse yourself actually). With a thought, you picked it up in your hands, squeezing it, and it wasn't flat either.

You weren't sure why (or maybe you knew exactly why), but that's all you brought back to the farm.

Every day, when your brain would get to be too much, you'd throw it around in your hands or dribble it around the yard. At first, Maggie had looked at you oddly, but now, it seemed to relax her (and Beth and Hershel). It was healthier, or they, at the very least, thought so.

You could pretty much immediately feel his eyes on you though, a little longingly. Maybe that's why, when you'd never kicked it too far in the entire time you had it, you kicked it too far.

It rolled up and hit him in the back of the leg.

He turned to look at you, blue eyes sparkling a little, and then down at the ball.

On instinct, you spoke, "Shit."

The kid looked directly at you then.

"Don't say that, kid," you mended, quickly -maybe even a little awkwardly.

"Carl," he spoke then.

You questioned, "What?"

"My name's Carl," he explained with quite the intention in his voice, "-not kid."

You laughed a little, maybe for the first time in a while. You could nearly hear Maggie's gaze snap to you at the sound. She was always the most worried.

"Well, Carl," you hummed, playfully, "-you gonna pass me my ball back?"

He pressed his lips together in a thin line like he was thinking -the hat on his head wobbled a little. It was endearing.

"Only if you let me play too," he negotiated, a big grin on his face and something in you softened (for the first time in a long time).

You tilted your head, hand on your hip, "You drive a hard bargain, sir."

Carl laughed, and you felt your smile grow bigger. Now, you felt more eyes on you, Rick and Lori. Or at least Rick.

Apparently, you were making quite the spectacle.

"Alright, Carl," you finally replied, "-you've got a deal."

That was when it all started when Carl changed your life. Every day that you could, you'd play a game of soccer with him, eventually it developed more into a chatty sort of game. He told you a lot, and you told him about the things you used to do as a kid.

It felt like you had a hand in helping him keep his innocence. It was nice.

You remember the eyes sort of fading off of you, well. Except for one.

Rick was always watching. You couldn't understand if it was a Carl thing, or a worrying thing, or what exactly. But, you did notice it.

And eventually, Carl convinced him to join too.

"C'mon, Dad," he pleaded, "-just one game."

"Carl, I gotta-"

"Please," he turned on the puppy dog eyes, you laughed a little at how he softened immediately. His eyes shot to yours a second at the noise, you didn't think much of it.

"How are we supposed to play wit' just three of us?" He relented, just a smidge, "-Don't we need equal teams?"

Carl frowned.

Your mouth was open before you could even stop it, "Oh, please, I'm good enough to take the two of you on my own."

Rick's lips quirked into a smile, you had the thought that he was handsome before shoving it far away, "Are ya?"

"I am," you reiterated, just doing what felt natural, "-you too scared to try, Grimes?"

Carl laughed at that, almost giddy, it made something in your chest warm. Mission accomplished.

And with a breath, Rick readied himself -blue eyes solid on yours, "'S see whatcha got, Y/N."

That wouldn't be the last time the three of you would play soccer together, but it would be the first time you really got to know Rick. It remained that way, where you just played with Rick and Carl on days they could or days you could.

You'd found a connection, and it was nice.

But then, you were kind of a friend to Carl. You truly cared about him, yeah, you weren't on the level of a parent for him. Not at all. That just wasn't your dynamic, you didn't want to step on any toes.

Lori's or Rick's.

Before you could stop it, the fateful day arrived.

You were strung between a delicate mix of concern and disbelief. The overthrow of the farm was big, and maybe so was finding the prison, but this... this day was much worse.

You'd known Lori a little bit better then, she talked to you a little (because you were always around Carl). And she seemed nice, really, just in a fucked up situation that she could hardly handle herself. Nevertheless, to handle it for Carl. Plus, the whole Shane situation... He was dead now, and that really couldn't be easy on her conscience. (You kind of gathered the situation a little bit, when you were getting to know Rick. He hadn't said anything, but you understood enough.)

And when she went into labor, you hated that you weren't hopeful. Hated it.

Carl went with Maggie to help deliver, and your heart twisted in your chest (so insanely worried) but you needed to help the others.

When Maggie came out of the room, with just Carl and the baby -blood all over her hands, your heart sunk to the bottom of your chest. Lower, if it could. There was this little spark of hope that Carl was okay, but then you looked at him, really looked at him.

Rick was crying, and belligerent, and he did the very same. Just looked at his son, "No, no, no-"

God, he... he didn't-

You don't think you could ever forget the next moment.

A sob was racking up your throat, heavy and so suffocating as you watched Rick just lose it and Carl stayed steady in place, only looking at the ground. And you felt like you were going to throw up.

Stomach twisting, as your eyes got cloudy.

You hadn't even noticed it, maybe because your mind was reeling, but then you heard the slap of footsteps and then a body running into yours. Carl, Carl-

Hands shaking, your hands wrapped around him, holding him tightly -swallowing back what you could. Your body moved on its own.

You crouched down, you couldn't stop the tears then, eyes skimming over his face. He was just looking at you, blue eyes filling with tears, and before you knew it you were cupping his face and wiping all of them away.

"Oh, baby, baby-" you were whispering, just for him to hear, "-I'm so sorry."

And then, you pulled him into another hug. That time you didn't let go, you would hold him until he did. Tears wetting your shoulder you only squeezed him tighter -kissing him on the forehead when it felt like your soul was crushed into pieces.

That was where it started.

You still went on trips, but you stayed around a lot more. Because, as you were caring for Carl, you also started caring for Rick. They went hand-in-hand. That was much more important than anything else.

It started with going on trips, and getting Carl books and candy when you could. It grew from there though, you started siphoning off some of your food to give him extra. When he would get hurt, even small little cuts, you were immediately there -patching him up. Making sure he was completely fine.

And Rick... well, he was more complicated. It was dragging him away from the farm when he seemed so tired he could barely stand, it was getting him out of bed when he didn't want to even breathe, it was making sure he was eating, and it was sometimes guiding him back to reality when he saw Lori.

He started getting better eventually, and you did convince him to go see the baby. He'd been avoiding her as much as physically possible; you told him he should.

"She's a piece of Lori that you'll always have, Rick. Her and Carl."

He'd look at you a certain type of way you couldn't label then, but eventually agreed. So, you thought it was going well. As he became more conscious again though, similar to his previous self (sometimes you thought maybe even better), he started noticing.

Rick saw all that Carl had gathered, the finger pointed back to you. He was eating candy, the finger pointed back to you. Carl fell and scraped his knees, you were near immediately by his side while Rick watched (the finger pointed back to you).

And when you ate, you'd done how you always did, almost on instinct. Siphoning off some of your food and piling it onto Carl's plate.

You're not sure when Rick caught that, at all, really. But you knew he did.

Because, eventually, he started sitting beside you, and as quick as you'd siphon off to Carl, he'd siphon some of his off to you.

The first time he'd done it, you froze -staring at your plate.

"Rick, you don't-"

He didn't even flinch, blue eyes taking you in -grateful, "I do."

"Well," you reasoned, "-don't do it every day. You need to eat too."

"Don't ya give some to Carl every day?"

"Yeah, but-"

"No buts," he promptly finished, smiling at you in a new type of way, continuing his conversation with Daryl.

He'd done similar things, and eventually, your care spanned over to Judith. It wasn't as pressing as Carl, as Beth usually had her dealt with, but you'd been the one to feed her a few times (sat right beside Carl). And you won't lie you did do the baby voice a few times.

You didn't know it then, but Rick was looking at you in a new type of way.

And then, things happened in rapid succession.

The Governor did what he did, and Hershel died right in front of your eyes. You grabbed Maggie that day so tight, holding her as you both fell to the ground. It felt just like when your family... Your heart was thrown out of your chest and stomped into the dirt.

The fall of the prison didn't give you much time to grieve. You'd escaped with Carl and Rick, Judith had disappeared and you hoped with everything in your chest that she was still alive. God, you had never felt so low in your life.

Those days weren't good, and you had holed yourself up -lock and key. The only person who could through to you was Carl, despite how much Rick tried.

Breathing, shelter, protection, water, and food, but just for a bigger audience now.

The Claimers only proved you right. Seeing Carl like that, the threats of what they were going to do to him? You would've snapped if Rick hadn't.

"He's mine."

That day, you felt yourself come back again.

You held Carl tight against your chest, rubbing his hair over and over. Just before that, you scanned his whole body carefully -looking everywhere for anything at all. You would've killed them again if you could have if there was.

Holding him, you recenter yourself -calming the shake of your hands and the beating of your heart. You whispered, "You're okay, you're okay, you're okay-"

Carl had stopped you then, leveling his blue eyes on you, "I'm okay."

You smiled, maybe a little teary, reiterating, "You're okay."

And then, you saw Rick.

That was the thing about you, you were hardwired to care for them both at this point (for maybe more reasons than one, but you wouldn't admit that out loud). Making sure Carl was entirely fine, you kissed his forehead and spoke.

"Imma go help your Dad, okay?"

Hunting down a rag and a little bit of extra water, you slowly made your way over to him. He still had his eyes closed, and his hands were shaking; you simply sat right in front of him -wordlessly. You hardly even breathed, not wanting to startle him at all, but somehow still wanting to to bring him back.

You waited, patiently, for his eyes to open again, and when they did, you smiled a little.

"Hey, Grimes," you whispered, brandishing the rag, "-Thought you might need a little help, that okay?"

He looked at you in the same type of way he always did, one that you still couldn't label.

Before speaking lowly and a little slurred in his accent, "Yeah, 'at's okay."

You took a careful breath and leaned forward -gently scrubbing the blood off of his skin. Moving slowly, his eyes fluttered shut, and something in your chest tightened. He trusted you so much.

Your heart lept into your throat at the thought, and you took the moment to just look at Rick. How he differed from the first time you saw him, the time in his face. Longer hair that curled, the stubble that climbed up his cheeks, he was so different, but still somehow the same. Your heart stuttered in your chest.

That wasn't new, but it felt like it was.

With a breath, you continued wiping away what you could -pushing all around his face, smoothing over his lips, and dabbing a little on his facial hair. You moved slowly, not wanting to irritate his skin, but it made it take a little longer. As you did so, your fingertips brushed along his skin -just a little. It made your head spin.

You leaned back, satisfied, before grabbing his hands -left one first. You looked at them a moment, eyeing the callouses and the rough skin along his palm. His life was riddled on them, practically written there.

You cleared your throat, blinking back into focus.

Scrubbing away on the back and then flipping it to the front, you repeated the process.

He was looking at you now, blue eyes intently focused. You felt his steady gaze as you curled your hands around his, and for a moment it felt like you couldn't breathe.

Your heart beating heavily in your chest, you tried to stay focused.

When his skin was a sort of pink instead of blood red, you let go of his hands. Decidedly, you patted his cheek with a smile (the buzz of his skin against yours made your head spin).

"All better," you chimed, playfully.

He laughed a little then, and you felt something in you stir. Long ago dormant. Handsome, your mind spoke.

It was suddenly very hard to ignore it now, though. This close to his face, and he kind of looked like he-

With a breath, snapping your eyes from his and clearing your throat. "I'll um, go see if Carl needs me."

He just smiled at you in a certain type of way.

The two of you never talked about it again, but you did find him looking at you more.

And then Terminus.

To think about it now, made your skin crawl and bile rise up your throat. Beth died right in front of you, shot right through the head. She wasn't... There was no way-

You felt part of yourself crumble that you didn't think you could get back. God, she was so young-

You had new nightmares; they made your stomach twist and your sleep come to a relative halt. It wasn't just your family now (although it kind of was), it was Beth and Hershel. They had both been so sudden, your mind was still reeling. The gunshot bouncing through your ears, even now, as you lay on a blanket -Carl just beside you.

Your eyes snapped to him, watching the rise and fall of his chest. Alive, it thrummed along your mind, alive.

You watched it for a few moments, letting your mind settle on that fact. Carl is safe, Carl is fine. Something in your shoulders relaxed, and your breaths weren't as heavy in your lungs.

Alive, alive, alive, alive.

Your stomach twisted because you didn't know if Judith was.

Instinctively, you shot up in your spot, breaths hollowed out in your chest. You blinked a few times, bringing yourself back to the ground beneath your fingers. Chancing a look at Carl again, you found him still fast asleep.

You exhaled a long breath, you weren't going to sleep tonight. Every time you closed your eyes, you'd either see... them or Carl could be hurt, there was no good reason to sleep.

Shaking your hands, you stood up. You stood there a moment, taking in the night -the buzz of the bugs, the shine of the stars, and the (luckily) very distant groans of the walkers.

"Ya okay?"

You startled in place, shit. Rick was on watch duty, you forgot. You tried to volunteer, but he'd refused ("'Aven't seen you sleep a second."). You weren't sure how to feel about how attentively he seemed to watch you.

You bit at your lips a second, swallowing, and wiping your hands down your legs. Your eyes were fogging up, and your throat was clogged. You felt a little like you couldn't breathe-

"Y/N?"

You blinked, deliriously, and your eyes were watery now, and it felt somehow like your lungs were filled. A bit like every breath got stuck in your throat.

"Hey, hey, look at me, sweetheart."

And then, Rick was suddenly in front of you. You hadn't even heard him move, the pounding of your heart was so loud-

With the gentlest of movements, he held your jaw, bringing your eyes to his.

"Hey," he spoke gently, concern flitting through his eyes, "-hey. 'At's goin' on?"

You swallowed, something clawing up your throat (but your heart was softer in your head now), your eyes falling to his jacket, "I just-"

"C'mon, talk to me," he hummed, bringing his eyes to yours again -something heavy in his eyes, worry.

"I just," and you felt your voice catch in your throat, you felt the tears slip out of your eyes, "-I just... I just miss them, and... and every time I close my eyes, Rick, it's just-"

His thumbs rubbed away your tears, gently moving back and forth, "I know, baby, I know. I miss 'em too."

Something in your mind noted that 'baby' was new, but you weren't focused on that. Your mind was running at 100 miles an hour, and all you could see clearly was Rick.

Your body acted on instinct, as you threw yourself into him -digging your face into his shoulder and wrapping your arms around his neck. He seemed slow to react for a moment, but carefully, his hands came to wrap around your waist.

You took a deep breath in, just smelling the woodsy smell he always seemed to carry around with him. It made the tension in your body melt, and he seemed to notice it -tightening his grip slightly.

"I gotcha," he whispered, maybe like he was a little scared to break the moment, "-'s gonna be okay, I promise."

You fell asleep on his shoulder later that night, one of his arms tight along your side. And if he shushed everyone that morning afterward (wanting to keep you close as long as possible maybe), kissing your temple whenever you stirred, looking at you a little like you were the most precious thing in the world, you'd never know.

It was easier after that. Any time you felt it all coming back up, Rick would be right there, hand smoothed along your shoulder, pushing you into his side, or brushing his hand along yours while you walked. You weren't sure if you could get used to it all.

And then, a good day came.

Judith, baby Judith was back.

You felt the sob wrack up through your throat, as you smoothed your hand over her little hair. Your breaths were shaky but you were smiling, and so were both Rick and Carl. All of you were huddled together, crying, and for a split second, it felt like maybe you were a little family.

You bit back the thought but peeked up at Rick just to find him looking right back at you. Something in your chest fluttered.

Finding Alexandria was a little like a fever dream, all of you weren't trusting it, especially since Terminus. But eventually, something in you relaxed as you watched Carl know people his age and find friends. You weren't as scared anymore.

That being said, you had your own home, but it stayed empty. You were constantly in the Grimes' house. Whether for Carl, Judith, or Rick, you were always there. And Rick didn't seem to mind at all. (Sometimes you thought he preferred it.)

That day was a normal one, you'd crossed on over to the Grimes' -bouncing a little on your toes. It was your day to watch Judith, well, it always kind of ended up being a team effort at the end. But, if Rick had something to do, you'd be on baby duty.

Walking in like you always did, the house was eerily quiet.

You pursed your lips, "Rick?"

He called out, from the kitchen you'd guessed (you could hear the sizzle of a pan), "In 'ere!"

You moved with a practiced grace, smoothing around the piles of toys like you lived here (and in essence, you kind of did). Just as you entered the doorway, you started again.

"Hey, where are our kids?"

And then you stepped into the room and got a look at Rick. Clean-shaven Rick. Sharp jawline, blue eyes, Rick.

Your mind went completely blank.

He turned to you then, sort of smiling, "Our?"

Blinking, you cleared your throat, "Sorry, what?"

"You said," he was stepping closer, something shining in his eyes, "-our kids."

It was hard to focus, but you'd gathered what he said.

"Shit, sorry," you started, scrambling a little, "-I didn't mean to-"

"No, no," he dismissed, eyes intently focused on yours (somehow you think his facial hair distracted from his eyes, were they always that blue?), "-you're right, darlin'. 'Ey are as much yours as 'ey are mine."

You took a deep breath in, deflecting a little and motioning to his face, "When did you...?"

"This mornin'," he answered, turning back to the pan (breakfast, you guessed), "-why? It look 'at bad?"

Your head was spinning, but you answered anyway.

"What, no," you answered, instinctively, "-it looks good. Great, actually."

He smiled at you in a sort of way you couldn't read, wearing his pajamas and hair slightly tussled -your mouth went dry.

"Yeah?"

You willed everything in yourself to say something witty, playful, like normal. But he was still looking at you, focused, and all your brain could think was blue-

"Yeah," you answered quietly.

He hummed a moment, hand coming up to rub at his jaw. Calloused fingers against the most certainly smooth skin, you briefly thought about touching it yourself.

You cleared your throat, "Sorry, so where are th- our kids?"

Rick's eyes smoothed over your face a second before he smiled, shaking his head, and dropped his eyes back to the pan, "Judith's still sleepin', and Carl is at a friend's."

"Which friend?" you asked, instinctively.

"He's fine, baby," he laughed a little like he was testing the word, "-ere's no need to be worried."

Baby rattled around your head for a few seconds, especially coming from that face. The last time he called you that, you were on the verge of a mental breakdown. And come to think of it, with how you were reacting to a shaved face, maybe he was onto something.

"Grimes," you leveled, but there wasn't any bite.

"I'm serious," he added, looking at you (blue, blue) -trying to convey it to you.

You pursed your lips, deadpanning, "You forgot, didn't you?"

"Maybe," he smiled at you, almost fondly, and your knees nearly buckled.

God, you needed to get a hold of yourself.

"I'll figure it out later," you remarked -passively, "-What are you making?"

He seemed to pause, eyes skimming along you like he was suddenly taking you in, before stepping to the side, "Come n' see for yourself."

You had the spare thought that he was doing it on purpose, before swatting it away and gathering by his side. Mindlessly, your brain noted his elbow bumping into you and the swarm of body heat that radiated off of him. You blinked it away.

He had a few things going, typical breakfast stuff, but you did decisively notice what looked to be a single portion of your favorite.

"Is that-"

"For ya? Yeah," he answered, unflinchingly, "-'Figured I could be sweet today."

You quipped back, looking up at him, "What a change of pace, Grimes."

He laughed at that, your eyes smoothed over his smile before dropping back to the food. Your breaths felt a little hollow in your chest for an entirely different reason.

You stood there and helped portion of the food, focused on placing plates out for him to then fill. You could feel his eyes steady on you as you did so, just until he started portioning. You promptly grabbed one of the other foods and portioned it yourself.

As soon as you finished, Rick spoke up.

"Did ya mean it?"

You looked at him, curiously, "What?"

"Our kids," he answered, something flickering behind his eyes, "-Do ya really think of 'em as your own?"

"As long as I'm not... overstepping," you clarified, dropping the pan into the sink, "-yeah, of course, I do."

He smiled a little, the flicker stronger now, "Really?"

"Well, yeah," you laughed, a little uncertain now, "-Should I not?"

"No," he echoed out, something heavy in his tone, "-you should. 'Ey're yours."

"Then, why-"

""S just nice to 'ear," he explained, pulling another one of the pans into the sink -sliding in just beside you.

"Why?" you questioned.

Rick looked at you, eyes flickering along your face, seeming to decide on something, "Can I show ya somethin'?"

You quirked a brow, playfully, "What is this something?"

"A gift," he answered, naturally.

You blinked, a little deliriously, "For me?"

"Yeah," he hummed, taking your wrist in his hand (your brain turned to mush) and guiding you through the house, "-'Course it is."

"Where did you get a gift?"

"On a run," he answered, easily, pulling you into his bedroom before letting go. He wandered over to his closet.

"Why-" you laughed a little, "-Why were you thinking of me on a run?"

Rick didn't hesitate a second, hands skimming over some shelves, "I'm always thinkin' of ya."

Your lips snapped shut, as your eyes just followed him around the room.

Since he was so preoccupied, you let your eyes roam over his jaw, the angular lines of his nose, the curve of his Adam's apple, the slight push of his lips, and the curl that seemed to trail down his forehead. You almost adjusted it yourself, but you fought back the urge.

"'Ere it is," he sighed, relieved, before seeming to gather something up in his arms.

You tried to peek over his shoulder, but he decidedly kept them too raised.

"Ya ready?" He chimed, excitingly.

You quipped, smiling, "I was born ready, Grimes."

Rick laughed at that, and you bit back the grin that threatened to slip across your face. There was something so domestic about all of this, it made your breath rattle in your chest, and your heart skip a beat.

And then, he turned around.

Your breath caught in your throat.

He held in his hands, a brand-new soccer ball, still in the package. Your brain buzzed for a moment, it was so sentimental. It made your head spin, making you a little breathless. A grin grew wide along your face, lips curling up.

"No way," you muttered, leaning forward and skimming your fingers across it, "-that is so sappy, Grimes."

He laughed a little, and your eyes flicked to him where a pink dusted up to the top of his ears. Your smile shone even brighter.

"Figured you could let me and Carl try to gain a little on your record," he smiled.

"What was it again?" you grinned, taking the ball into your hands, "-Four to zero?"

"Six," he corrected, instinctively (like he remembered), "-Six to zero."

Wordlessly, you gently took the box into your hands, his eyes steady on you.

"How long did it take to find this?"

"I was lookin' for the past few runs," he answered -vaguely.

"Looking?" You questioned, "-You plan this out, Rick?"

He hummed, smiling, "Maybe."

You quirked a brow, not quite looking at him, "What's the occasion, Grimes?"

He fell quiet then, and you promptly dropped your smile and looked at him. Eyes skimming along his face, he didn't seem upset. He seemed entirely the opposite, actually.

Blue eyes looking at you like they always did.

"Rick?" You asked, concern smoothing through you, "-Everything alright?"

He smiled a little, shaking his head a little, "God, you're... you're... you're unbelievable."

"Um," you flustered a little, holding the ball tighter to you, "-is that a good or a bad thing?"

"Good," he answered, with probably the biggest grin, "-great, it's a great thin'."

"Yeah? Well," you muttered out, a little frazzled, "-um, thank you."

He laughed a little bit, then but it slowly dissipated into the air. Leaving you and him, and his crazy blue eyes (seriously, how have you never noticed that?).

Rick spoke breathlessly then, rushed as if it was just waiting to come out (like it was building, building, building, until it burst), "I love you."

You dropped the ball (and box) right onto your feet. It stung a little.

"Shit," you hissed, before scrambling, "-Wait, that wasn't to you. I... I just I hit my toes with the box, and it hurt-"

He smiled at you even brighter then, eyes dropping to your feet, "Ya alright?"

"Yeah, what," you cleared your throat, "-I'm fine. I'm just... a little in shock, I guess."

"Yeah?" He asked, something lilting in his tone and you almost felt like he got closer to you.

"Yeah," you breathed out, "-I just... I never could've imagined a man like you, um, loving me."

He was definitely getting closer, blue eyes flickering between the two of yours, "A man like me?"

"It's a good thing," you explained, "-You're just caring, and I love your kids, and-"

His face was breath away from yours. Your lips moved before you could think about it.

"-handsome," you finished a little breathlessly.

He grinned then, crinkling at his eyes, and something there, deep in the blue. You couldn't tell if it was mischievous or loving or maybe even teasing-

"Am I?"

Something in you snapped.

You practically jumped forward, arms wrapping around his neck, and lips pressing to his. Rick laughed into it (which made you laugh a little too), but his hands sank to your waist entirely on instinct.

It was a little desperate, as Rick tilted his head just the right way and seemed to pour everything into his lips. Which were very much already good on their own. It made you dizzy, and you nearly stumbled in your steps, but he held you a little tighter and kept you in place.

Before, pulling you forward even more.

It sent a shock through your spine and made the breath slink out of your lungs.

Speaking of breath-

You pulled back, taking a deep breath in -mind a little hazy, "Jesus Christ."

Rick laughed, but still pressed forward, leaving little kisses on your lips -surface level. Again, and again, and again, and again-

Laughing, you moved your hands to his face, pulling him back, "Rick, you need to breathe, yeah?"

"Not as bad as I need ya," he retorted, before pressing kisses along your jaw.

It made your head spin, and maybe you were a little dizzy but you didn't think it was from the lack of oxygen.

"Rick," you urged, laughing.

He mindlessly moved down to your neck, a little like he couldn't get enough. It zapped through your spine again.

"Rick," you repeated, maybe with a little less laughter, "-c'mon, I have to tell you something."

He groaned, before pulling back to face you, blue eyes focused. Rick looked at your smile, and bit down his own.

You took a breath in, and cradled his face again (his skin was soft), "I love you too."

He grinned big and wide then, something shining in his eyes, "Ya don't know how long I 'ave waited to 'ear 'at."

"How long?"

He answered, with ease, "Since I saw ya givin' Carl your food."

"Rick," you almost soothed, "-that was forever ago. Why didn't you say something?"

"Was never the right time," he hummed, kissing you at the hinge of your jaw, "-I was goin' through somethin' and then ya were."

You hummed a moment, finally pushing back the loose curl.

"And I just-" he exhaled a breath, "-I wanted to make sure ya felt the same. Didn't want the kids to lose ya."

"Even if I didn't love you, Grimes," you soothed, trailing your hands along his jaw, "-They would've never lost me."

He just looked at you then, a little like he couldn't believe you were in front of him. Couldn't believe you were real.

"They're our kids," you offered with a teasing smile, "-are they not?"

"Yeah, 'ey are."

And without another breath, he kissed you so hard that it felt like your breath was knocked out of your lungs. But there was no way in hell that you were stopping.

You'd waited long enough for this.

He grinned against your lips, mindlessly kicking the soccer ball out of the way to get closer to you. Whispers of 'Ours' between every press of lips like he couldn't believe it. Or maybe like it was all he'd ever wanted.

And apparently, he had waited just as long.

[lunajay33]

Insecure🖤

Summary: Carl and y/n were always attached at the hip, so when Carl got shot and was starting to distant himself she was getting worried, but little did Carl know was that y/n wouldn’t ever stop loving him just because of the way he looked

Pairing: Carl Grimes x f!reader

A/n: This was a request for @anabort hope you like it!!

•Masterlist•

When I heard Carl was shot it felt like my heart shriveled with pain, when the walkers where gone from the town I ran over to the infirmary but Michonne came out stopping me

“Michonne please let me see him” I said tears running down my face

“I can’t” she said holding me back

“Why not? Let me go”

“He doesn’t want you to see him” that stopped my fussing

“But will he be okay?” I asked just needed to know if he’s alright

“He’ll be okay just…..just give him time sweetie”

“Please just……..just tell him I love him” I said leaving to go back home, the room I shared with Carl felt empty now without him, him usually lying on the bed reading or us cuddling and joking around now….now it was just quiet and cold

It went on like this for a week, he did come home and stayed at the infirmary, I kept asking to see him, this was the longest I’ve gone without seeing him in well……forever, growing up next to Carl meant we could hang out everyday so when the world ended and my parents were killed he made sure not to leave without me, along the way we fell for each other, we’d take little glances at each other in the prison or we’d go on walks around the court yard together, then when the prison fell he didn’t let go of my hand the whole fight he made sure we wouldn’t be separated, I was there for him when he was grieving Judith and well everyone just like he was there for me when my parents died, then on the road after terminus we spent every night cuddled together telling each other how much we adored and loved one another, so when we got to Alexandria we got privacy to show each other that love to grow our relationship but now…..now I’m alone and Carl is there in that infirmary in pain and all I want to do is try and make him feel loved and just comfort him

I pulled myself together, I put on carls favourite blue shirt I wore and a pair of jean shorts, freshening myself up and spraying a vanilla perfume Carl once found me on a run

I walked over to the infirmary not taking no for an answer today, I needed to be near him, I got there opening the door to see a curtain spread across half the room

Michonne and Rick came out with the same pity look as they did every day this week

“You know you can’t be here” Rick said sadly

“No, I need to be with him please, I can’t bare to be alone anymore, I need to know he’s okay…….please” I said my lip trembling as my heart felt colder every second I didn’t see him

“Let her in” I heard his voice from behind the curtain as Rick and Michonne stepped aside so I could enter

I pulled back the curtain seeing him sat up against the head board of the bed, his head was down and turned away but I could still see the gauze wrapped around his head, I sat on the edge of the bed as close to him as I could

“Carl I missed you so much, are you okay” I asked as I laid my hand ontop of his

“I don’t want you to see me like this but….i missed you too” he said his voice laced with that sadness that broke me to pieces

“Carl there’s nothing that would change me from loving you, nothing at all” I said tracing my fingers gently over his check so he would look at me

“I’m hideous, how could you still love me” he said as he finally looked at me tears gathering in his water line

“How could you, the Carl Grimes ever be hideous, you know how sexy I think you are plus this patch kinda makes you look like a hot pirate or something, you’re still my Carl and I still love you” I said as I saw his lip rise in a little smile as his cheeks reddened

“Really you’re fine with it?”

“I’m more than fine with it, no please come home, I miss you……a lot”

“Oh really?”

“Yes the bed is cold without you love”

“Well let’s go home and you can show me just how sexy you think I still am” he said bringing back that Carl grimes awful flirting but I loved it none the less because he was back with me now

Taglist: @carlsdarling

[pastanest]

Daryl Dixon x she/her!reader

A/N: bet you hoes thought you’d seen the last of me x

tw: allusions to sa but no actual acts committed, just the fear of what men can do

Instincts

The moment you regain consciousness, your survival instincts are kicking in. Before even opening your eyes, you are aware that wherever you are right now, Daryl is not with you; there are binds on your wrists that keep them at your back and binds at your ankles to stop you from running - if Daryl was anywhere nearby, there’s no way in Hell you’d still be restrained. The right side of your face feels cold, pressed against a concrete floor. The left side of your face feels hot, stemming from a particular point just above your temple - point of impact, blood, possible concussion. How you got here is unclear; it would be a waste of time to focus on that.

Blinking as hard as you can, you clear your blurry, barely conscious vision. Four walls, two windows on the left and right, one door on the wall in front of you, off-centre to the left. Naturally, you are curled in the furthest corner from the door, where you appear to have been thrown, because you have no memory of army-crawling your bound self over here. There’s a silver lining if you’ve ever seen one: your back is not exposed, you can focus entirely on what’s in front of you. Namely, the three idiots who thought tying you up in wherever this is, was a good idea. Your brain is fighting hard to recognise any of their faces, but you can’t - they must have snuck up on you. And they wouldn’t have been able to sneak up on Daryl, so they must have waited for you to separate from him and snuck up on you. Blood running cold isn’t a new feeling since the world ended, but it feels entirely different now.

Even in the world before, any girl’s survival instincts would go haywire if she woke up in an unfamiliar room, tied up by three unfamiliar men. Particularly when you realise they could have covered your mouth, but they haven’t, because they aren’t as worried about you screaming as they are in need of that particular body part. But there’s one thing the end of the world brought you that will change the predicted outcome of your current situation..

“Jus’ sit tight.” Daryl forced one of his knives into your trembling hands, thinking you and your wide eyes looked like the kind of doe too pretty to kill - Merle called him a pussy the first (and only) time he’d used that excuse as a boy.

“B-But, what if-“ You were stuttering in a way Daryl got, but he’d never felt in your place.

Out in the world was where he belonged. That world ending didn’t change that for him, just meant he had to share it with a whole lot more uglies, and…some people that weren’t ugly in the slightest. Fighting for his life is what he’d always done, he wasn’t afraid of that, but folks like you? He knew from one look in your terrified eyes, you’d never felt fear like this. The kind that paralyses you. And Daryl recognised you had every right to feel that: the world you knew had ended, you were thrown into a makeshift camp with total strangers, grieving the family you’d lost and trying to find some sense of normality when the walkers came from the woods. You saw them get Amy, and you froze, because as much as you frantically looked around the camp, you knew Daryl wasn’t there. The one person you felt you could turn to for protection, the one time he left camp to go and look for his asshole of a brother. And you couldn’t cry out. Your mouth opened and closed like a fish. A walker was stumbling towards you and you barely had it in you to take slow, unsteady steps back from it. The bolt that was shot through its skull was one you recognised, and in a blur you were grabbed, dragged until your back was no longer exposed and was instead against the wall of the RV.

“I won’t let ‘em.” Daryl answered you, leaving no room for you to argue even in your panicked state.

All you could do was nod, trembling hands gripping his knife.

“Jus’ sit tight, lemme handle it. Don’t draw attention.” Daryl instructed in the typical gruff fashion you’d already become accustomed to.

And he did as promised. Bolt after bolt from his crossbow flew through the air, bullets from the gun he carried and the guns in the hands of the others, too, took down the walkers that had invaded the home you had all been foolish enough to believe was safe. And when it was all over, Daryl came right back to you. It was actually difficult for him to get his knife back from your shaking hands, they were gripping it so hard. He could tell by your breathing you were in some sort of shock, so he did the one thing he remembered his mama doing for him when he was real small and cut his knee bad: he pulled you into his arms. And it wasn’t awkward, just like it hadn’t been when he was a boy, because it was needed. That reminder that you were safe. He needed that just as much as you did.

Years have passed since then. Or, at least, your best guess at years. You’re stronger now, more independent, more resourceful, and you can protect yourself. But in this moment, bound and trapped, your instinct to start shit talking is overshadowed by those exact words from Daryl when you’d felt this same uncertainty in his absence: sit tight. So, you keep your mouth shut, and your survival is governed by a version of Daryl in your subconscious. Slowly so as to not draw attention to yourself, you shuffle yourself around until you’re sitting up in the corner of the room, with your bound legs bent to your chest. Your tied wrists at your back are concealed by the rest of you, and as futile as the effort might be, you start picking at the rope from any awkward angle you can in an effort to loosen it. Raising your eyebrows up and down a few times, you can feel the tug of your wound, and the beginnings of dried blood crusting around it - you’ve been here, unconscious, more than a few minutes, but the heat of fresh blood you can still feel means you’ve not been here very long.

“Would you look at that, our girl’s back with us!” One of the men jeers, smacking the back of one of the others to get him looking over at you.

If Daryl was here and heard them call you that, they’d be dead already. That thought gives you a small amount of comfort.

“Awh, cat got your tongue, little lady? C’mon, don’t be shy!” The third man smirks at you, and as he starts walking over to you, your knees instinctively draw closer to your chest.

It takes everything in you not to react when he crouches down in front of you, one of his hands grabbing your jaw. You want to spit right in his face, but that would only escalate things beyond your control. Sit tight, sit tight. You focus on your breathing. Focus on looking past this ugly fucker, through him, to the door on the opposite side of the room. Hoping, willing, praying; dissociating.

“Pretty thing like you needs some strong men lookin’ after her.”

Unfortunately, you’re not dissociated enough to miss those words from the man still crouched in front of you. But you’re grateful for that, because if you had been, you might’ve missed the subtlest creak from just outside the door. A moment’s pause. A second’s silence. And then the door slams against the wall, kicked open by a boot you barely have time to recognise before a bolt head from Daryl’s crossbow appears right between the eyes of the man who had been crouched in front of you, but is now a crumpled corpse on the floor.

“She don’t.” Daryl grunts.

The other two guys are quick to recover from their shock, attempting to tackle Daryl together, but he’s faster. They think this is his first rodeo? Man…you almost feel sorry for them. Except for the fact you don’t. At all.

You probably shouldn’t take any amount of joy in seeing Daryl easily take down two other guys with his bare hands, but it’s hard to shake the warmth that spreads through you, seeing and accepting the fact that he’s come to get you. That he didn’t stop looking until he found you, and the moment he did, he was ready for war. Punching both the guys down, Daryl’s quick to grab his crossbow from where he’d dropped it in favour of beating these guys to death, and fires another bolt into one of the guy’s stomachs. Leaves him to fall to the floor while Daryl drops his crossbow again and tackles the only man left standing, straddling him and throwing punch after punch after punch, until everything’s red. Guy’s face, Daryl’s fists, guy’s shirt, Daryl’s pants. Red. He only stops when he registers the guy under him is unconscious, and then he’s standing up, stalking over to the other guy who’s clutching at the bolt in his stomach, and doing the same damn thing. That guy, Daryl punches until he stops breathing. He didn’t intend to quit it, but your voice was the only thing that wasn’t red.

“STOP IT!”

It wasn’t the words you said or the way you said them, it was the fact that in them, Daryl could hear tears. You were crying. And that would shift his focus in any situation. Standing back up, he retrieves his crossbow from the ground and fires one last bolt to the only guy not left impaled, leaving one dead by bolt to the face, and two left to turn by bolts in the stomach. Let them rot.

Everything’s different when it’s Daryl crouching down in front of you, using his knife to cut the rope from your ankles and wrists. His bloody hands trembling around the blade, but not from fear. The ropes fall to the floor in tatters at the same rate as the tears rolling down your cheeks, but Daryl’s thumbs are there in a blink of an eye. Wiping your tears away, leaving smeared blood stains on your cheeks. He sees that look in your eyes again, like a blast from the past. A wide-eyed doe, too pretty for a world like this, but you’re here still.

Very gently, Daryl’s hands trail down your arms, lifting them and bringing them to his neck. It takes a moment for your brain to catch up with what he’s doing, but as soon as you realise, you’re shakily leaning into him. Daryl’s arms wrap around you, pulling you flush to his chest and holding you there. Where he wishes he could keep you forever. Tucked away safe.

“Thank you.” Is the sniffle that comes from you.

“Don’t need thankin’, girl.” Is Daryl’s gruff response, but the way he huffs and drops his head to your shoulder tells you he’s getting bashful, and that makes you smile.

There’s quiet, then. Just for a few seconds. Holding each other in a room filled with dead bodies shouldn’t feel as warm as it does, but when the world ends, you make do with what you have.

“Home?” You break the silence, your voice soft.

“Home.” Daryl nods against your shoulder.

And neither of you are referring to the place you ought to be heading back to.

—————————————————————————

taglist: @ruinedbythehobbit @iamburdened @evilbabyelf @of-storms-and-sadness @crossbowking @spidergirla5 @jodiereedus22 @thanossexual @captain-shannon-becker @cordialgargoyle @romanoffs-bitch @daryldixonandfrogs @just-always-tired @pillowjj @the-musical-doodle @likeablevillain @irrelevantyettopicalusername @notquitecannon @alyisdead @polkadottedpillowcase @twdeadfanfic @wishingtobeforeveryoung1994 @sigynlokiem @courtnytrash04 @thatwrestlingfan91 @buttsology @prettylittleblog13 @milariskanavasi @whatanicepanohthatsjustme @your-new-mom @daryls-angell @lilzebub @amaroho @bakedcrispss @yes-sir-hotchner @wasted-years @kpopandharry @madshelily @datidixon @dumandbass @savageneversaw

[allwaswell16]

A fic rec of One Direction fics that involve characters using sign language as requested in this ask. You can find my other fic recs here. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments. Happy reading!

- Louis / Harry -

💜 All About Us by LHStylinson

(G, 137k, kid fic) Throughout the night and protests from their daughter, Louis and Harry reminisce about how they met and overtime share their story with the boy that seems to look at their daughter the same way Louis once and still looks at Harry.

💜 All Your Dreams Are On Their Way by @1diamondinthesun

(NR, 73k, Caribbean) Louis Tomlinson is a grieving author with a deadline. Harry Styles is afraid to realize his potential. The Caribbean is the perfect place to dream bigger.

💜 Shout It From The Rooftops by therogueskimo / @bravetemptation

(M, 70k, PTSD) Plagued by memories of the worst day of his life, Louis Tomlinson feels like he’s constantly living in darkness. Harry Styles might just be the person to bring him back to the light.

💜 Dog got your Tongue? by seducedbycurls

(NR, 50k, dog walker Louis) Person a spills coffee on person b when they trip AU

💜 Two Hearts Drawn Together by Chelsea Frew / @chelsea-frew

(E, 46k, famous/not famous) Louis Tomlinson is 1/3 of a world-famous boy band. Harry Styles is a deaf university student. When they meet each other at a book signing, they experience an instant connection.

💜 It Feels Different When You’re With Me by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings

(M, 45k, deaf Louis) Harry fell in love with sign language as a kid. He never imagined the first love of his life would lead him straight to his second.

💜 You Came Just Like A Flower In My Darkest Hour by graceling_in_a_suit

(T, 44k, fantasy) Harry had spent a thousand years as the king of a false kingdom, no one but his empty-minded subjects to distract him from his loneliness. Then, he saw a stranger in a mirror to another world. 

💜 Quiet People Have the Loudest Minds by @2tiedships2

(M, 38k, omegaverse) the one where Louis is a nonverbal omega who has accepted the fact that he will never find an alpha that will treat him as an equal. On the other hand, he’s never met anyone like Harry.

💜 Stargazer Louis by thecheshirepussycat / @the-cheshire-pussy-cat

(T, 36k, high school) Louis has been deaf ever since a he was a little kid. Some of his only comforts now are the colors and fragrances of flowers. Harry could care less about flowers and prefers the beautiful melodies of his music. 

💜 A Life Turned Upside Down by Chelsea Frew / ��@chelsea-frew

(E, 29k, exes) Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson were madly in love from the moment they met. Their contracts would not, however, allow them to publicly announce their love. Forced to take part in stunts, they persevered. Until one stunt became too much, and Harry left.

💜 Is it a sign? by bluegreenish / @greenblueish

(E, 25k, omegaverse)  the one where Harry meets a certain handsome alpha at his sister's wedding and learns that speaking verbally doesn't have to be the only means of communication.

💜 Whipped Cream by @writingstylinson

(T, 24k, pining) Harry is a deaf photographer in charge of taking Lottie's wedding pictures. Louis is determined for Harry to be his plus one.

💜 Don't Act Like It's a Bad Thing to Fall in Love by nightwideopen / @themarshalstale

(G, 23k, high school) Louis was born blind, completely blind, leaving him with nothing but the absolute blackness that his lack of vision produces. Harry, on the other hand, is deaf. No sound can be registered by the two tiny ears his rowdy, chocolate curls obscure so well.

💜 Never Too Late by dimpled_halo / @comebackassholes

(M, 18k, kid fic) Just having come out of the closet and recovering from vocal surgery, famous recording artist Harry Styles needs to get away from LA to work on new music needing to prove to his label that his career isn't over.

💜 Worth a Thousand Words by TheIfInLife / @larryismyotpuniverse

(NR, 7k, high school) Harry went deaf at 5 years old and Louis just wants the chance be heard.

💜 Fingers Crossed by Moriartied

(T, 5k, uni) Harry's been deaf since he was born. Louis is newly graduated after studying sign language, and Harry hires him to translate for all the classes he'll be attending.

💜 The power of Silence by WordsOfHeart

(T, 1k, mpreg) an AU where Harry is mute and pregnant and Louis is the best boyfriend he could possibly be.

💜 My Hands, Your Hands by croisblue / @forwhatiam

(G, 1k, canon divergence) It was something of a joke within Louis’ fandom that he never carried his own luggage. The theories were never too serious, mostly leaning towards him being too much of a princess to do it himself.

- Rare Pairs -

💜 say it out loud by ieatravioli

(M, 25k, Zayn/Liam) Liam has a younger sister who is deaf and he meets Zayn; an alumni from his sister's school. Zayn has just found out that he's qualified to receive a Cochlear implant and decides to go through with the procedure.

💜 Whiteboard by lostinsanity

(T, 5k, Zayn/Niall) Niall’s a musician, Zayn’s an artist. Music and art are their lives, respectively. And the story shouldn't be much more complicated from there. But it is, because Zayn is deaf.

[alinataylorsversion]

Christmas Comfort Series - Day 2 (Massage - Rick)

Pairing: Rick Grimes x Original Female Character

Summary: After a few days training the Alexandrians to kill walkers, your back and shoulders were absolutely destroyed. Luckily, Rick puts his hands to good use.

Warnings: Mentions of sex.

[2,376]

Your relationship with Rick was fairly unexplored.

While in the prison, he had just lost Lori. There was no room for advancements there, he needed time, that was that. While he had been grieving, your guys' relationship had begun to grow. He had started to trust you more personally, instead of just having faith in you to kill a few walkers when his back was turned. You became the person he turned to. Whenever he needed to go on a supply run you were the first person he'd ask, even when Daryl or Glenn were right there. If there were farming needs to be attended to, you were the person he's ask to help, and through all that you had also been the one taking the most care of Judith as well. So much so that you and Rick had begun to share a cell, along with Carl, of course.

He had become comfortable around you, and you with him. You guys would go on watches together up in the guard-tower, sit next to each other whenever everyone gathered around to eat after a long day, and he always knew that if he wasn't able to be inside much that day, you would always be there taking care of Judith for him.

He knew he could lean on you; he knew that there wouldn't be any judgement or rejection when he did. I took him awhile to do so, but when he did, it was a huge weight taken off his shoulders. He had told you about how he loves how you are so good with Judith and Carl; about how he's glad he has someone like you to get through the days with.

The first time he kissed you was after you guys had put Judith to sleep along with Carl. You had left the cell with him, it was still early in the night, you guys had sat down on the stairs in the middle of the cell block and had just... talked. It was so easy to do so with each other. Without any worry in the world, you guys smiled, the both of you catching extra glances at each other every couple of seconds.

Even though you guys practically spent every waking minute alongside each other, you rarely ever just sat and talked, about nothing of note, but just with the purpose of hearing each other's voice, of trying to make an excuse to be in each other's company, even though you guys never need one, you just are.

Eventually the topics to talk about started to run out, and you guys were just sitting in a comfortable silence. You had begun picking at the lint that was on the sleeve of his flannel-shirt, the weight of your head resting on the palm of your hand. His eyes resting on the movement of your fingers on the side of his arm. When you looked back up at him he had already been looking at you. You could both tell he was hesitant with his next move, but you had both known what it was, and that you had wanted it to happen.

You moved slightly closer to him, telling him that you were indeed okay with what he was about to do. He had taken your face in one of his hands, the other resting in your hair as he had leaned in. You both had hovered there for a few seconds, basking in that moment just before your lips had touched.

You had been the one to finally lean in all the way. The moment your lips had touched, you both had visibly melted into each other. All of the stress and hesitation coming from you both had immediately disappeared.

The kiss was gentle, the both of you exploring new territory. As your lips softly brushed together, your hands moved down to rest on his sides. You guys had stayed like that, tongues meeting each other hesitantly at first before concluding that the other was okay with it. The both of you had stayed together like that up until Daryl had walked in and grumbled something about us getting a room.

You guys haven't had moments like that often. Every once in a while you would lean up to kiss him softly when no one was watching, but the two of you had never ventured further than that. Your relationship wasn't built physical intimacy in the first place, but rather emotional trust, so the limited amount of physical affection you have shared has never been an issue to you. You were sleeping in the same bed after all.

There hadn't been many opportunities for progress in your relationship after that. The prison fell, and you were all focused on finding each other and staying alive. So up until you all had gotten to Alexandria, there hadn't been any room for progressing as a couple.

When you all first came to Alexandria, everyone was gathered in the same room together every night, reasonably so. Now that you all had gained some trust in the place and the people there, you had spread out between two houses.

You had stayed in the first house with Rick and the kids. It took him a while to be convinced to move to the bedroom upstairs with you. He had been so used to needing to be at the ready 24/7. When you had finally come downstairs to drag him off the couch and up to the master bedroom, he was hesitant but had agreed.

~~~

Two weeks later, you and Rick have made Alexandria a somewhat surviving place. The weak people have all somehow managed to rid themselves of Alexandria within the first weeks you guys have been there, and the other people are learning how to properly survive given an attack should happen.

Rick had been making sure the walls are secure, there are people stationed at the outposts 24/7, basically all major safety measures were intact. You on the other hand, had been teaching anyone who had wanted to learn how to defend themselves. You had gone through basic Walker knowledge on how to kill them, now you were working them all up to learn how to shoot.

The hard part about training all day long, when you'd finally make it back to your shared home, your back and shoulders have been absolutely destroyed. You've managed to ignore the pain so far, given you had all been through way worse, therefor having much worse injuries before and being able to handle it. But as you entered through the front door and reached down to untie your boots, a stabbing pain shot all through your neck and shoulder.

You had managed to make it upstairs after somehow pulling your boots off without undoing the laces. Flopping down into your and Rick's shared bed, you immediately start to nod off. You're almost asleep before you hear your door open before Rick steps into the room. Looking down at you still in your clothes, he goes to gently wake you up intending to get you in something more comfortable.

His hand comes down in between your shoulder blades, about to gently awaken you. You on the other hand hadn't been fully asleep, and the hand on your back sent a shooting pain all throughout your neck and shoulders.

"Ow ow, Stop!" Your hand reached behind you to grab his hand off of you, making the pain worse in the process.

"What's wrong? Where are you hurt?" His voice immediately turns worried. is hands reach down to lift your shirt with the goal of assessing your injuries. You go to roll over into your back before he can.

Facing him, you immediately see worry in his eyes. "I'm okay, I promise. Just.... somehow forgot my body has a limit after so long fighting for my life."

He gives you a confused look. "What happened?"

"I've been teaching everyone how to stab walkers for the past three days, my back and shoulders are completely destroyed."

"Oh." The worry visibly leaves his face. "Well come here. Let's get you in some looser clothes, that way you aren't as uncomfortable." He says before he makes his way to the closet. By the time you sit yourself up straight, he emerges from the closet holding a pair of your cotton sleep shorts, and one of his t-shirts.

You have taken a liking to wearing his shirts to bed lately. A few nights ago you had come to bed wearing one after a shower. He hadn't said anything, but the look in his eyes which showed how he was holding back from teasing you, had told you enough. All he did was pull you in close before the two of you had drifted off.

Rick sat down next to you on the bed, setting the clothes down between the two of you. He reaches down for the hem of your shirt, aiming to help you get changed with as little pain as possible.

"Wow there, take me out to dinner first," you joke even though you have no problem with it.

He immediately retreats this movement and rushes to apologise. "I'm sorry, I should've asked first." He goes to turn, but you reach out to grab his arm.

"I was joking," you smile at him. "I genuinely don't know if I will even be able to take my shirt off by myself."

He smiles and with a shake of his head he moves to grab the hem of your shirt. His eyes look up to yours, silently asking for permission.

You nod your head and slowly lift your arms up, trying to minimise the pain as much as possible. Rick lifts the shirt up over your head, tossing it aside before grabbing its replacement.

You on the other hand, take notice of the very limited amount of clothing you have covering yourself, and stand up to turn around. When you reach behind your back to undo your bra, pain shoots all through your shoulder, and a hard wince takes over your face.

"Here, I got it." Rick comes up behind you, his hands gently un-clipping the back of your bra. You turn and grab the shirt out of his hands before pulling your bra off and going to pull the shirt over your head.

"Hold on." He says all of a sudden. "Where does it hurt?" He asks before you feel his hand gently start touching just beside your right shoulder blade.

"All over the back of my shoulders, around my shoulder blades, and from the back of my neck downwards." You dramatise with a chuckle.

His hands slowly move from the middle of your back up to your shoulders before squeezing gently. Your neck immediately drops, your head hanging as he once again squeezes your shoulders, being extra careful not to accidentally hurt you.

"Lay down" His hands move from your shoulders down to hold the sides of your arms and guide you to the bed. You use the shirt in your arms to cover your chest as you go to lay down on your stomach again, now bare from the waist up.

With your head resting on your crossed arms, you look over at him as he sits down beside you on the bed. This is exactly the reason you love him so much. As soon as you had mentioned being in pain, Rick did everything in his power to help you. His hands make their way to your back and start working softly at the strained muscles.

Your eyes fall closed at the relief of pain for the short time. If you had known that Rick wouldn't been happy to do it, you would've asked for this a lot sooner.

"What's going through your head right now?" He asks with a smirk on his face, clearly reading your facial expressions better than anyone ever has.

"I'm wondering what took me so long to figure out how many ways I can put your hands to good use," Your heart rate picks up as you venture into somewhat unknown territory in your relationship. The both of you may tease each other constantly, but sex never really makes its way into your guys' banter.

He lets out an amused laugh. "Yeah well, you can put my hands to good use any time."

"I might just take you up on that offer one of these days," I smile at him. "Once my back doesn't feel like it will snap like a twig." You turn your face back to the pillows below you.

He chuckles at me before leaning down and pressing a kiss the back of your shoulder.

After what doesn't feel like anywhere near long enough, he presses a kiss to the side of your head and gets up to get ready for bed. "Get under the covers, baby. You're gonna fall asleep."

I manage a groan in acknowledgement, but still make no move to get up. By the time he gets back, only wearing a pair of boxers, your still laying there on your stomach. He laughs at you before pulling the covers back and crawling into his side of the bed. "Baby, you're gonna get cold. You don't even have a shirt on."

You groan in response, lifting your head up. Without a care in the world you grab the shirt you layed out underneath your chest, and tossed it to the side before puling the covers back. His eyes dropped for a split second before focusing back on your face.

When you got under the covers you look over at him, the struggle not to drop his eyes being clearly written on his face. You roll your eyes at him before scooting closer and wrapping your arm around his torso, resting your head against his shoulder. "I don't care if you look. You're not very good at hiding your struggle."

"Can you blame me?" He whispers into your hair before placing a kiss there.

"Nope, I'm irresistible," You shrug your shoulders, immediately regretting the motion with the pain that came afterwards.

His arm wraps around your figure, his hand resting on your hip. "Yeah, you got that right."

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 15

PREVIOUS

The thing is… FF is aware that he should probably be medicated. You might be saying well isn’t he taking his ulcer medication? The answer is yes he is and when he is getting close to missing a dose Nicky’s usually the one that texts him with six frowny face emojis asking if he took his meds (they have a system, he takes his meds and then he texts Nicky)

No, he knows that he should probably get on something for his anxiety. Betsy has offered to get started on getting him on the right cocktail, his grandma thinks it’s a good idea, and Nicky has offered to get him as much weed as he needs to chill out, he knows a guy. Andrew is probably only going to stab him and threaten him not actually hunt him for sport, in his moments of clarity he can accept and understand that.

But there is nothing in this world that he wants less than to get back on anxiety medication. The world had been grey, it muted everything in the world for him, he faded completely into the background of his own life, and he couldn’t even grieve-

He was almost thankful for his step-dad’s sudden arrival in his life and how quickly his mom forgot about him to spend every waking moment she could on him and his children and then their children. It was two years of nothing and then his mom stopped picking up and refilling his prescription because it was too much of a hassle to keep picking up every month.

“He’s not anxious, see he’s fine. He doesn’t need it anymore.”

The withdrawal and the emotions that came afterwards had been hellish. He’d collapsed into his Grandma’s arms and begged her not to call his mom. He spent an entire month of summer vacation feeling like he was going to die and when he got back he found that no one had even missed him.

He swallowed the hurt, all of his emotions felt so much stronger now that he’d lost them for two years. If he has reactions like he’d had before he knows his mom will put him back on the medication.

The town is small and everyone talks. He knows about the dog walker’s poop flinging scandal, he knows about how the butcher’s left pinky got put back on wrong when he’d cut it off, he knows that the kid down the street paid $40 for a bag of oregano that he thought was weed, he knows that lil susie is in counseling because a girl should probably not be establishing cult rituals around her barbies.

He can’t react, can’t let people know he’s dying from anxiety because his math teacher sighs when he hands over his test. Can’t let anyone know that he has to put his head between his legs and take deep breaths before he can go into the cafeteria. His only solace is that all of the foreign language teachers love him, it’s easier to accept a compliment or comment in a language his family doesn’t use.

His step family treat him like the guards outside of Buckingham. Anything for a reaction y’know? He tells himself he does not care and for the most part he doesn’t.

He signs up for Exy in middle school because he just wanted something to do and it was the sport that had the same meeting days as his grandma’s bowling league. She picks him up from practice and they get ice cream together afterwards, she’s the only thing he has since Great Gran passed not too long after he got free of the medication.

He still feels her fingers checking behind his ears on occasion, a joke now that he’s off his meds referencing when he was too zoned out to care about hygiene. He still remembers her looking at him and feeling like she was seeing more than just him, “You’re a Smith. The last one when me and my daughter go. We’ll all be with you whenever you need us.” She promises.

He thinks it’s just respectful to get her favorite scent when he needs her help. He was raised to be respectful.  Lavender still makes him think of her and he hopes his grandma left some on her grave recently.

He knew he’d have to wait to go to college. His mom is putting on the pressure now that he’s 18 saying he will have to pay rent even though Greg is older and definitely isn’t. He plays Exy and thinks about how he’ll handle his life between 18 and 25, he puts all his anxiety into the game and maybe the coach notices something.

He must have noticed something.

The Foxes don’t offer positions to kids who don’t have something going wrong for them.

Coach Wymack and Dan Wilds wouldn’t be there in his little bum fuck nowhere town in Washington if his coach hadn’t sent a tape and an explanation.

He could admit that he knew about the Foxes. He looked up to the vice captain a fair bit not just for his game but also…well the Butcher was national news. Vice Captain Neil’s story was all over the news and maybe he was just a little bit in awe of someone who could stand his ground after all of that. Watching Vice Captain Neil Josten give shit to every last reporter who gave him any shit? Inspiring.

He just didn’t think it’d be a good fit for him.

He’s not like the rest of the Foxes. Dan talks about them all in broad terms, how they’re all fighting to become something and grow beyond the unfairness that was out of their control. FF is tough to convince but he’s a pretty good defensive dealer, Dan and Coach Wymack both want him.

Dan eventually has to go because she has an interview for a coaching position out this way but Coach Wymack just hands over the rental car keys and Coach Wymack stays.

Coach Wymack stays and they keep talking. FF talks about everything and Wymack eventually just says “Well, you’re still here despite all of that aren’t you? Sounds like a fighter to me. I think you’ve got what it takes to carry that weight with some help and I can promise that you won’t have to deal with those jerks past your high school graduation. You’re not going to be the first Fox who I help out from under some asshole parents and you won’t be the last.”

So he signs a contract, he’s 18 he can do that AND buy cigarettes now (he won’t. That’s how Gran lost gramps when dad was still young but he COULD. Much like he COULD go into the town’s only sex toy shop but that would be back to his grandma faster than the cigarette purchase to be honest and he isn’t THAT interested in what’s in there.)

He finishes up school but the assistant coach is a friend of his step dad and mentions that he’s signed to the Foxes. It’s just one week between his graduation and when Coach Wymack is coming to grab him

Suddenly he exists in his house for the first time since they all moved into it after the wedding and it’s the WORST. The want things, they want promises, they want assurances, they want to pretend and act like he’s always been there.

He flees to his Grandma’s house and texts Coach Wymack asking if there’s ANY chance he can get picked up early because he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to talk if he calls the man.

Coach Wymack comes for him and shoulders him past his ‘family’ to the rental car but the panic attack he sees in the car ride to the airport when his family’s car follows them all the way to the rental drop off means that he HAS to see Betsy.

Betsy is nice. Betsy teaches him how to breathe through stuff. Betsy teaches him how to ground himself in reality. Betsy tells him that the Starbucks girl probably doesn’t hate him. Betsy suggests he get on some medication.

He said No.

He’s scared out of his MIND in Palmetto but it’s better than-

He prefers to feel things.

Betsy tells him that it shouldn’t have been like that. His mother should have taken him back and gotten his prescription adjusted until it wasn’t like that.

He still declines.

Andrew gets suspicious about him knowing Russian after that game of Never Have I Ever and Nicky keeps almost letting it spill right by him. His stomach hurts the CVS girl keeps pepto for him behind the counter.

He still declines.

He prefers to feel things.

You can’t enjoy the thrill of a 100% on a Kanji Basics midterms without the anxiety of the Oral presentation. You can’t feel the true satisfaction of getting a blender for 25% off + 50 dollars of in-store credit without the flop-sweat of the searching eyes of a woman wearing PINK branded lounge wear. You can’t keep friends if you have no ability to empathize with them even if you’re worried you’re annoying them or ‘humble bragging’.

Fear is better.

Betsy tells him if he’s ever ready then she will help him. His Gran tells him she loves him. Nicky says “Look there’s a strain called White Russian. That’d be funny right?!”and FF agrees but declines to sample it.

Right now, as Nicky smudges eyeliner under his eyes and tugs at his shirt for the 80th time, he thinks it might actually be better to feel nothing.

He’d woken up from his…nap? He might have fainted actually? But he did it on a bed and it lasted for like 4 hours? So does that count as a nap? He wants to ask but also doesn’t want to worry anyone, maybe he could ask Aaron that if a Friend faints and doesn’t wake up for four hours is that a nap or a medical emergency? Just curious.

When he had emerged from Nicky’s room Captain Neil and Andrew had herded them all into the Maserati and they’d gone out and gotten McDonald’s for a late lunch. The only comment he had gotten when he’d asked for a happy meal (his stomach could not handle anything more) was whether or not he wanted the toy.

“Yes.” He answered panicked at the sudden question.

He got his Megamind toy, accidentally shone it into Aaron’s eyes when he pushed a button. “Shit that’s bright” before he apologized and shoved it in his jacket pocket.

They hung out at the house for the rest of the day.

They watched movies, played Mario Kart (how is Captain Neil this bad when his reflexes on the court are so good?) and did some homework. Andrew seemed to actually like the brownies which is why FF probably woke up from his... still haven’t asked Aaron if it’s a nap or a medical emergency.

He has a square and even at room temperature they taste great.

When it started to get dark they all went to go get ready. FF had gone to get whatever clothes Nicky had prepared on but had found himself sat on the man’s bed (so much glitter, seriously how can one bed have so much of it?) and Nicky holding a pencil to his eye and telling HIM not to flinch.

“Gonna have all the….” Nicky pauses and adopts a look on his face that means that he’s thinking incredibly hard about something. “Wait how have we been friends for MONTHS and I have no idea how you swing?” FF is caught off guard for a few moments because it’s the first time that Nicky has verbally confirmed that they are, in fact, friends and…

Wow.

That’s so nice.

He thought it was just Nicky’s innate inability to leave something to suffer needlessly that had the upperclassmen helping him. (FF has watched Nicky go out of his way to give cats food, turn turtles back onto their stomachs, and walk into traffic to stop cars so that a duck family could make it to a pond. He just sort of figured he was the same level of pathetic)

Wait.

What.

“Wait, what?”

“How do you swing?” Nicky repeats.

FF knows what he means but doesn’t want to. “With my left hand.” He responds and hopes Nicky drops it because the long and short answer is: he doesn’t know. He has no idea.

“Ohh dirty!” Nicky makes a jacking off motion with his left hand and FF feels embarrassed sweat cover his body, “NO! Don’t ruin my work!” Nicky yells fanning him with his hands so the eyeliner doesn’t run. “You know what I mean Smithy. Swing for girls, boys, both, neither? What am I working with here?” He asks wiping at FF’s cheek.

“I don’t…know.” He admits because deflecting is OBVIOUSLY not his strong suit. Twice in a row it’s brought up weird sex stuff.

“C’mon don’t be embarrassed. Even if you’re straight you’re obviously an Ally.” Nicky smiles.

“No it’s not…” he flushes okay he is embarrassed but that’s because he REALLY doesn’t know. Like how the hell did he get to college and have ZERO idea about what he’s attracted to or if he’s just not attracted to anyone? He’d been focused on not screaming for the last decade and that hadn’t really left a lot of room to consider how anyone looked. He’s getting used to having friends and three whole group chats (he’s bad at responding to them, overwhelmed by the idea that whatever he says can be revisited and picked apart forever but still, THREE!)

“I really have no idea.” He repeats.

Nicky blinks at him. “Okay well, college can be all about figuring that out then! No worries my sweet boy, we will figure this out.” Nicky pats his cheek.

He feels a little better.

“Alright, let’s go to Eden’s!”

Oh fuck that’s right.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

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The requests to be added to the tag list got spread out across a few different mediums on this one so if I missed you then just ask in the replies!

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you  didn’t  get a notification there might be something switched around in  your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

[shmaimy]

Okay, I had a thought a few days ago and have been trying to get it right. But. I think I figured it out. (Don't expect 100% accuracy)

So, Pallas and Athena. Athena bursts out of Zeus' head, and confusion and chaos and Hera, so Athena ends up at Triton's camp/school/military base thing. There, she meets Pallas, Triton's daughter, and as such, is Poseidon's granddaughter. The two become close, very close. I've seen them be close as sisters and be lovers, and I'm not 100% sure what they were, but, I mean, they were Greek...

Nevertheless, Pallas means everything to Athena. Athena grows close with Pallas' family, I mean, her mom lives in her dad's head and said dad kicked her out, so...

Then, tragedy strikes. Pallas dies at Athena's hand. Whether it is a true accident, or Zeus' pride... Athena doesn't know what to think. She is sent away, basically banished by the grieving, who forget that she, too, is grieving a great loss.

Poseidon remains bitter, and continues pushing Athena away. They both remain bitter towards the other for thousands of years, and encourage their children to do so as well.

Put a pin in that.

Remember how there were a bunch of people that were really angry about Annabeth's casting? They were wrong, of course, but hear me out. Leah does look practically opposite to how Annabeth was described in the books. In fact, Walker looks more like Annabeth than Leah does (though, you gotta admit, they are their characters irl too, especially Walker)(also, i think the Annabeth being assumed to not be smart because she was blonde doesn't work as well as institutionalized and the many other types of racism. Athena's "gift/curse/however Annabeth described it" is still at play, so people really need to stop it with the hate towards Leah and Riordan)

ANYWAY I think it would be interesting if they made blondeness/light hair a Poseidon trait, and that's why Athena has avoided it like the plague since Pallas' death: its too painful. Contrastly, Poseidon gives his children light hair in honor of Pallas, as well as to torment Athena.

Specifically, Percy looks basically exactly like Pallas. It would drive this point further if the casting of Athena looks just like Annabeth, too. Thus, when Athena first tells Percy, "I do not approve of your relationship with my daughter," we see so much more than just a spat over Athens (I mean, really, a salt water spring?), we see a romance to last the ages, and a tragedy who's thorns grow ever sharper. Athena is not just being selfish, not wanting a reminder of love lost, but she knows the fierceness of an ocean's love, and would not wish it lost on anyone, especially one of her own. Percy has had a choice thrust upon him: he will be the prophecy child. To the best of everyone's knowledge, Percy will die at 16. Athena will do everything in her power to not hear her daughter cry tears over a child of the sea, not even she knows then so well herself.

(It could also be interesting if Percy looks like a mix of Athena and Pallas (because we know genetics are weird with the Gods), since that would cause extra pain in Athena's heart)(also makes Poseidon extra sad)

(OR Athena makes all her children look like Pallas to honor her. I don't like that one as much)

I also really like an idea I had that it was NOT Poseidon and Athena who invented the chariot, or however that went. Pallas and Athena invented it together, and Athena still uses that first chariot to this day.

Also, it could add some nuance to the Mark of Athena. When the Romans stole Athena, they erased Pallas from her story. Minerva looks like Pallas, and her love for Pallas is gone. She is not just searching for herself, she is searching for the string so interwoven with her own they are the same: she is searching for the soulmate erased from her story.

ALSO, or would be interesting to see this dynamic play out in the 4th book, when Percy is thought to be dead.

I want this to be released as a short film (I would be a great Pallas???? Think about it???? Am I selfish to think that??? Ambitious??? Yes???? What's your point?????????)

[unknowntoyou2205]

For Those Who Can't be Here

Info: Y/n spends her first Christmas without her father, but she tries to remember the good times while making new traditions without her.

Relationship: Halstead sister

Warnings: grief, loss parent

Pat Halstead wasn’t father of the year, but to y/n he was at least half decent. He made sure she got some form of a happy childhood, even if she did miss the loss of her mother. Will and Jay were never really around, so it was always the two of them against the world. It hurt her when she heard Jay yelling at their father upon his return, claiming that he was an unfit parent for the youngest Halstead. Sure Pat had his over fill of beer, but he never threw anything but love towards his only daughter.

Christmas was the father daughter duos favourite time together. They would always spend the first weekend of the month decorating the house, Pat even stayed sober for the day, which was a bonus to y/n. Jay was surprised with how much effort the Halstead father put into making the festive time enjoyable for y/n. Will and Jay had grown up when their mother died, but even when she was alive Pat wasn’t one to celebrate anything.

Now, with her father gone, y/n was finding it hard to get into the Christmas spirit. The traditions they held from baking gingerbread men, to sitting on her fathers shoulders to put the star onto the tree even though she was way past the age of light. The nearly 18 year old found herself at a loss, wanting to celebrate but also not wanting to accept that she would be doing it without her father and best friend. Will and Jay tried to help, both not grieving their father as much as their sister at this time, but when they turned up with a Christmas tree at the door, the waterfall of tears began.

We put the lights up on the tree And all the presents underneath Light the fire, it's getting cold Another year of "Will it snow?" Mixing lager and champagne Somethin' I'll never do again Round the table banter flows Praying no one rocks the boat

Y/n stared at her brothers as they placed the real tree up into the living room, both brothers watching their sister with caution. Both of them knew that the youngest of the three siblings would always go tree hunting with their father on the first Saturday of December before bringing it home and stringing it with lights and baubles. But now without her father, y/n felt no desire to help cut the wire that was currently holding the tree compact, nor did she usually do her usual cheer when the branches sprung out.

“Hey y/n, you wanna help?” Jay asked, grabbing the scissors from the bits and bobs drawer under the TV. “Why would I do that?” Y/n mumbled, slouching in on herself as she tried to avoid her brothers gaze. “Come on y/n, you and dad used to always do this.” Will spoke, and Jay glared at him abruptly. “Yea, me and dad, I don’t see him anywhere, do you?” Y/n spoke harshly, tears building in her eyes as she narrowed her eyes at her brother. “Y/n, please, dad wouldn’t want you to be like this.” Jay pleaded, trying to help his little sister. “How would you know, you never liked him.” Y/n yelled, bawling her hands into fists at her side. “He never gave us a reason to like him after mom died.” Will muttered, and Jay threw his hand out at him. “Will, shut up.” Jay spoke harshly before moving to his sister. “Come on y/n, you love Christmas. Even if dad’s not here you can still make some memories, in honor of him.” Jay stated, placing a hand on y/n’s shoulders. “I don’t want to do this without him.” Y/n spoke tearfully, collapsing onto the couch gently. “He’s always with you. We can make new traditions if you’d rather.” Jay tried to be helpful, wanting to help his sister somewhat enjoy her favourite holiday.

Y/n looked at her brother with tears falling down her cheeks, and Jay sighed before pulling her into his arms, rocking her gently. Will looked down as he heard his sisters cries, not wanting to overwhelm her. She was always the type who wouldn’t take too much comfort, one person was enough, so him joining would distraught her. Hearing her snuffling, Will looked up to see y/n looking at where he was standing, the tree beside him.

“Can we make some baubles this year, maybe a few in honor of dad?” Y/n asked, trying to think positive. “I think that’s a great idea.” Jay smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I’ll go get some things for us to use.” Will stated, moving to kiss y/n’s head before leaving the house to head to the shops.

Still I know, this picture's not quite right There's someone on your mind First Christmas time without him by your side, I know The sound of Christmas bells They never say farewell So we laugh, we shed a tear For those who can't be here

Y/n lay on the couch, staring ahead of her as a simple memory came from a decoration she had grabbed from the box. Taking her brothers advice to make new traditions, y/n had tried to decorate the remaining of the house after school was finished. But the deer decoration that she had found produced memories that she couldn’t shake. A shake on her shoulder lead to her jumping out of her thoughts, and a watery smile to appear as she looked up at the brother who shook her.

“Hey, you ok?” Will asked, smiling lightly at his sister. “Yeah, just trying to finish these while I’m interested in it.” Y/n explained, throwing the deer beside her on the couch as she moved her feet for Will to sit beside her. “You know it’s okay to have your mind spiraling, you’ve lost both parents before your eighteen, that’s a lot for someone, regardless of their age.” “You and Jay seem fine.” Y/n mumbled, wiping her sleeve against her cheek. “Jay and I didn’t have the same relationship as you did with dad, but we miss him regardless, don’t think we don’t.” Will spoke softly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I don’t want to feel this way, I want to enjoy the holidays but I feel like if I do than I’m forgetting about dad.” Y/n spoke, leaning her head on Will’s shoulder. “You could never forget about dad, he’s someone who’s been in your whole life, that’s not forgettable.” Will smiled softly, squeezing his sister gently. Y/n looked up as she  heard the sound of bells outside the window. “Dad always cursed those bells.” Y/n smiled sadly, sniffling slightly. “Well they are pretty annoying.” Will nodded in agreement with the statement, “Come on, I’ll help you finish this than we can go out for dinner.” Will offered, picking up the abandoned deer and standing up. “Can we stay to watch the Christmas lights turn on in the town?” Y/n asked, having never done it before as her father used to think it was useless when they’d be seen for the month anyway. “Sure, we can do that.” Will smiled lightly, taking y/n’s hand to help her off the couch.

We're drinking sherry just because Confessing all our Christmas love Watch Home Alone for the thousandth time It's the only movie that we all like

Will and y/n had winded up standing at the police district to watch the lights, and Jay had even arrived back from a case to catch them and join. Y/n couldn’t help the smile that spread on her face, and unshed tears built in her eyes as she felt guilt for a brief moment. Guilt that she was enjoying herself even after the loss of her father.

Following the lights, Will brought y/n home and stayed with her for the night. It had become a ritual where the brothers would take turns staying at the house with y/n, as she refused to leave the home she had grew up in, and leave the memories upon the wall. Will set up the sitting room while y/n left to get changed into her pjs’s, wanting to be cozy for  the night.

Setting two mugs of hot chocolate onto the table, Will turned when he heard his sister walking down the creaky steps, smiling softly when he seen her in a red set with reindeers dotted around the fabric He squinted at her in confusion as she walked towards her, acting shy as she came to a stop in front of him.

“What’s up?” Will asked, seeing her rocking on the balls of her feet. “Can we wear matching pajamas tonight while we watch Home alone?” Y/n asked, moving her hands from behind her back to show him the matching pjs's. “We watch home alone so many times, do we really have to.” Will fake groaned, making fun of y/n. “Dad used to always watch it with me, but we never done matching pjs's as I always wanted.” Y/n frowned, looking down at the memories. “I would love to match with you.” Will grinned, taking the material from her hands and slapping them over his shoulder. “You get the film ready and I will be down in a minute I made hot chocolate as well.” Will smiled, ruffling his sisters hair affectionately before moving to his and Jay’s old room to change.

But I know, this picture's not quite right There's someone on my mind First Christmas time without him by our side, I know He loved these Christmas bells 'Cause they never say farewell So we laugh, we shed a tear For those who can't be here

Jay came to the house the night before Christmas, groaning as he stretched his shoulders back, hearing the cracks in his back. Y/n and Will were in the kitchen, prepping the dinner for tomorrow. Y/n refused to get a turkey despite it being a traditional food for Christmas, so the brothers had compromised with a small chicken, draping rashers over it like they would a turkey.

“Hey guys, I feel so overdressed.” Jay commented, seeing the matching pj’s his siblings wore. “I left a pair for you in your guys room.” Y/n spoke, moving away from Will to hug Jay. “Lovely.” Jay spoke, grimacing at the thought of matching pj’s. “Jay.” Will warned. “I’m joking.” Jay told him, wrapping his arms around y/n’s shoulders as she leaned into him. “I think we’re finished here.” Will announced, moving the chicken and ham into the oven so they were ready in the morning. “I’m gonna go to my room before the film starts.” Y/n stated, moving away from her brothers abruptly. “You ok?” Jay asked, frowning as he seen how quick y/n’s attitude changed. “Yeah, just wanna freshen up a bit.” Y/n spoke, moving towards the stairs. “Code for needing a moment alone.” Will mumbled at Jay weakly, and Jay nodded in agreement.

Y/n all but ran up the stairs to get to her room. Sitting on her bed, she allowed herself to take a look around her, smiling sadly as she seen the stocking that hung on her wardrobe. It was tradition that her and dad would fill a stocking for each other, and realisation came to her as she realized that he really wouldn’t be here. The first year they wouldn’t be sharing stockings, and the first year it would just be the three siblings.

Christmas used to be one of the most exciting days for y/n. Even as she grew older, her and Pat would always make the day different to the rest. It was another day of the week, but doing things a little different was what made the day special. Tears built in her eyes, and she allowed them to fall as she tried to remain quiet.

Jay stood outside her door, hearing his sisters infrequent breathing. Unshed tears lay in his eyes as he let her have her moment, thinking of the younger days when Christmas had his mom and dad around. Their mum would always make the day special for them, and their dad always lay around the couch, helping them build whatever it was they got that year. Having both parents gone were hard, but he knew it was harder for y/n. Pat was the only actual parent she had in her life, with her mother dying when she was two.

“Hey y/n, you ready to go down?” Jay asked, knocking on the door but not opening it. “I’ll be down in a minute.” Y/n called out, and Jay smiled sadly as he heard the sniffling she had.

Jay and Will were sitting on either side of the couch when y/n walked down the stairs, a space in the middle waiting for y/n. Smiling softly y/n reached to grab a pretzel from the tray the brothers had made for the movie night. Leaning at the back of the couch, y/n closed her eyes for a moment, trying to allow the festivities to roll over her.

For those who can't be here For those who can't be here (The bells ring out for them) For those who can't be here (The bells ring out for them) For those who can't be here The bells ring out for them For those who can't be here The bells ring out for them For those who can't be here

Christmas morning rolled by quickly, and unlike usual, y/n lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Jay and Will had already gotten up and y/n had heard them walking by her door numerous times, no doubt keeping an eye on her. Tears were falling down her cheeks freely, and she refused to wipe them away.

It was near noon when y/n finally plucked up the courage to get out of bed. While usually she’d get done up for the day, instead she decided to stay in her pj’s, and threw her hair into a top not so it wasn’t in her face. Jay was the one to greet her as she walked the last step, wrapping her into a hug and kissing her cheek.

“I know you don’t want to, but tears are okay today.” Jay talked into her hair, refusing to let her go. “I tried, I really tried.” Y/n mumbled into his chest, feeling him rub his hand along her back. “You don’t have to try anything. Treat it as any other day.”  Jay stated, pulling away from her as Will walked towards them. “The food is ready when you want it.” Will smiled, pulling her into a hug as she clung to him, embedding her face into his shoulder. “Did you make the stuffing?” Y/n asked, causing her brothers to laugh “Just how you like it.” Will stated with a nod.

“Thank you guys.” Y/n thanked the brothers with a smile at the end of the night as they sat on the couch, defeated from the dinner the brothers had made. “You don’t have to thank us.” Will shook his head. “We’re your brothers, it’s what we do.” Jay smiled, throwing an arm behind her lazily. “Happy Christmas dad.” Y/n smiled, looking at a picture of him on the mantelpiece. “I’m sure he’s enjoying the beer and sherry like always.” Jay stated, leaning his head on y/n’s as she lay it on his shoulder.

[6okuto]

us yuji lovers must stick together in these hardships (aka jjk261) … how are we feeling right now nia :( personally IM SICK T^T

it's whatever. i hate jujutsu kaisen. floptsu flopsen. sorcery FLOP. whatever. yuuji hcs that spiral in the middle before going back to normal (one major implied spoiler for 259)

yuuji who you ask to be your fake boyfriend who says yes and then realizes he likes you in the process. walk with me

sends you animal photos and goes >:OO dog!!!! cat!!! :DD hope ur having a good day!!! <333

sits in the washroom and watches you do your hair/skincare routine while you talk about your days. will take over with ease if your arms hurt or you're tired

points out silly looking plushies or figures and copies their expression/pose. yuuji would like trying jojo poses

if he saw you sitting in the rain he'd come over with an umbrella and say you should come inside before you get sick. but then you tell him you like the rain and need to be outside for a while so he puts down the umbrella and sits with you. and you're like ?? you don't have to do this. and he just tilts his head and smiles and says yeah maybe but he wants to. he's sure his immune system is strong, or at the very least you can get sick together

yuuji who's suffered so much, who's been in survival mode for so long and hasn't been able to grieve the way he deserves to (he won't let himself) (those he's lost deserve peace more than him) Who breaks down crying when you hold his face or kiss his scars

yuuji years after the manga ends who's still healing and learning to grieve and grow. who sees his brother in the siblings he crosses paths with at the park, and his classmates and teachers in the elementary students filing out the bus for a field trip. who visits graves, starkly clean and well-kept compared to the ones a row over with flowers and food and updates on where he's been and the things he's done since his last visit. who wakes up too many nights with his heart torn, tears welling in his eyes and crescent indents in his palms, his voice raspy and broken when he yells out a name (it's a different one each time). who looks at himself and his fading scars in the mirror and sees two faces—both, in his eyes, responsible for what happened—and wonders when, if ever, he'll finally feel like he's off the battlefield, or worthy of peace

😂

if you asked to blindfold him to get him to pick you out of a line up (by holding hands, hugging, etc) he'd do it so confidently and be 100% correct. he could even give you reasoning on the spot—this hand's too rough, too small, you wouldn't wear this kind of jacket, this person's too short, etc etc

yuuji who you haven't seen in ages who waves his arms and grins so bright when you finally appear . who laughs as you speed up to get to him and hugs you with everything he has

wants to try out hot ones . you know the videos where they eat spicy hot wings. yeah

playing horror games with yuuji and hearing him progressively yell louder 😭 "eh? huh? where? what? what? What?? WHAT??? WHY WHY WHY WAIT WAIT WAIT STOP WAIT"

yuuji probably being a firefighter if he hadn't become a sorcerer + ride your wave. um. i mostly mean before he dies like just the meeting and dating. someone walk with me.?

dog walker yuuji 🙁 he'd be so excited of that one guy came by and asked to take photos omg 😭

doesn't really question when you want affection or cuddles (unless you're visibly upset) 🥹 you silently walk up and rest your head on his shoulder, or wrap his arm around you and he turns it into a hug 🥹 those videos where they crawl into their boyfriend's lap while he games and he silently wraps his arms around them and keeps playing 🥹

omg but flustered yuuji (earlier in the relationship) when you try to do something romantic/cheesy 😭😭 like sharing a drink and your faces being super close when you both lean in 🙁 and his ears/cheeks are tinted pink 🙁

[darylbae]

headcannons for being daryl’s younger sister and ur relationship with him after rick “dies”

𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

you and daryl had always been as thick as thieves, a familial bond to be cherished. he was every family tie all in one. he was like a dad, looking out for you, keeping you safe and helping you to survive, teaching you to hunt and kill walkers. he was like your mom, a woman you both missed dearly, who nurtured you, made you laugh and smile, would make sure you ate every night and slept the best you could. merle was an asshole to the both of you, which is why you'd attached to daryl, especially when the world had ended. so when rick had heroically blown up the bridge, in turn also himself, it had broken the metaphorical bridge between you and daryl. maggie had taken you back to alexandria, with a grieving michonne. and it was actually the last time you'd seen both rick and daryl. maggie had given you the choice of following her to hilltop, but you couldn't, in case daryl finally came home. so you'd help out the community when you could, with a heavy heart from your missing brother. judith would occasionally comfort you, saying she missed daryl too. you saw judith as a younger sister, as she reminded you of yourself at her age, full of curiosity and kindness. you'd tell her all about the stuff you'd get up to with daryl. like climbing a tree far too high and getting scared, so daryl would have to cheer you on as you'd climb down. or how you'd steal merle's bike and take it to the lake close by, eating food you'd wrapped in a pillowcase. "i'm sure he'll come back, at least you have the memories to hold onto for now." judith would say to you. "has anyone told you you're wise beyond your years, girl?" you'd giggle back to her. you'd often wonder what he was up to, if he thought about you too, if he missed you. but you'd end up convincing yourself that if he did, he'd be here. you remembered pleading to michonne to drag him back here, wondering why he wouldn't come back, but she knew as much as you did. your loneliness turned to depression which turned into anger, you had grown mad at daryl. but you still loved him more than anything, he was your brother. it wasn't until one random morning, you were sat with a mug in hand on your porch, admiring your growing community. you could hear the growl of a bike, and your heart immediately began to race. hope laced your veins, but you couldn't get too happy in case it was something else. but who else rides a motorcycle, except your cool ass brother? you could make out his figure, running towards you, and you'd placed your mug beside you, to be forgotten in this long overdue reunion. he'd crushed you into him, groaning at how tightly he was squeezing you. "missed ya, kid." he whispered, loud enough for only you to hear. to everyone else, he was a moody asshole who would only show you how he cared. "i missed you so much." you began to cry. "please don't leave again, please. i need my brother back." "i ain't goin anywhere." you smiled as you'd pulled away, happy to have him home. "now shower, please, you're offending my nostrils."

[gunebuggiesprompts]

Word of the Day dpxdc Prompt #11

July 15: Salvo

The GIW successfully bombed the Ghost Zone after working with Walker to lock up Danny in the Ghost Zone where he "belongs". Anyways, with the Ghost Zone practically nuked, it not only destroyed Danny's universe but many others. Because the people in Danny's dimension did this, many ghosts blame Danny and tell Walker to sentence him for an eternity of being frozen (kinda like Pariah Dark). Danny is traumatized and is currently grieving for his lost universe and family/friends, so he doesn't really put up a fight and accept it. He has extreme survivor's guilt and often blames himself for what happened.

Frostbite and his people, who largely died from the bomb, break him out after thousands of years being frozen. Though, since Danny was frozen the entire time, he doesn't know anything that has happened recently and still in the mind of his 14-16 year old self, still grieving as to him they only died that day.

Frostbite doesn't really acknowledge this, as the main reason he broke out Danny is because there is an multidimensional war going on since the bombing and he believes the only one who could solve this is the "Great One", who he also believes is the strongest for defeating Pariah Dark. So he sends Danny, who should really not be fighting in a war, to a universe known for having great warriors that may be able to help, aka DC universe. Danny is all up for this because he feels like this may be a way to redeem himself and fix part of the mess he believes he made (even though it was not his fault).

He goes there planning to create an army and is surprised by how many heroes and people with supernatural abilities (apparently this is semi-normal and called meta-humans). He finds a whole league of them and goes to ask them to employ them first.

Whenever a random superhuman teen somehow breaks into the Watchtower asking for the Justice League to help fight in a war that could very well be the end to all reality, they had no clue what to think.

[positivexcellence]

‘Walker’: Jared Padalecki & Anna Fricke On Finding Closure In Series Finale Despite Premature Cancellation

If it were up to series star Jared Padalecki and showrunner Anna Fricke, Walker would be continuing its run on The CW. But, if it had to end, they’re glad to send it off with the Season 4 finale on Wednesday night.

“I’m heartbroken. I love the show. I love the cast and the crew. I am and will be eternally grateful for the four years we had with each other and the friendships and relationships that I made. But right now, It’s tough,” Padalecki told Deadline of ending the show’s run. “I know it’ll be around for people to watch and rewatch. So I’m grateful for that, but I’m certainly gonna miss it.”

Walker was officially canceled in May, and Fricke said they were unaware of the fate of the show when writing the finale. As “there’s always a risk in network television,” she explained that she tried to bring enough stories to a satisfying conclusion while leaving threads to explore in a potential Season 5.

This season, Walker struggled with an empty nest as Stella (Violet Brinson) and August (Kale Culley) began to branch out on their own. After four seasons of trying to find a work-life balance, he finally takes a step back from his Ranger duties to spend some extended time with his family and informs newly minted Lt. Cassie Perez that he’ll be taking a leave of absence.

“It really was about getting the family to a good place. They are on to their next chapter,” Fricke said. “That moment when the family drives off together, the kids and Walker and Geri, feels like some sort of closure in a way. In a perfect world, [it would have] gone on and there would be more stories and more complications, but they do seem like they’re in a good place.”

Padalecki gives kudos to the writers for where they leave Walker, because “that’s how I feel right now,” he says.

“I’ve had this job for 20 years. There’s never been a week of new television where I haven’t been No. 1 on the call sheet of an hour long show. I’m still grieving, and I probably will for a while. But I feel really excited to spend more time with my wife, our children…the rest of my family, my friends. So I’m happy for Walker, I think,” he said. “I’m bummed that he’s not on the next job, because I know he loves being a dog with a bone and getting his work done, but I’m so happy he gets to take this break and reset and spend time with his loved ones.”

As the cancellation decision loomed, Fricke revealed the network gave her the opportunity to make changes to the final episode to give audiences more closure, but she opted not to.

“It didn’t sit well with me to try to wrap up the whole series with one revised scene,” she explained. “It seemed too rushed and too hurried, and it would have felt tacked on. So we opted to leave the finale as it was.”

However, she did take the network up on their offer to air an extended version of the episode, which allowed for a few more scenes that she thinks viewers will appreciate, including a rare scene with the entire Walker family.

“It was the last family scene that everyone was in together,” she remembered. “It took forever to get it because everyone was emotional…it wasn’t a pivotal scene, or anything like that. It was just a fun energy with all of them there, which was always my favorite thing. So I’m really glad that that made it back in.”

Coincidentally, Padalecki also remembered that scene fondly, telling Deadline “it just felt like a nice goodbye both on camera and off….I’m excited for that, because you feel the love that we all have for each other.”

At least, Fricke jokes, nobody was kidnapped or on the brink of death when the credits rolled. Instead, the things left up to the viewers’ imagination are largely positive, like Walker’s eventual proposal to Geri (Odette Annable).

In the episode, there’s one quick shot of Walker admiring the engagement ring inside its box before tucking it into his pocket and meeting his family outside. She says that to include the actual proposal would have felt “too soon.”

“Walker said this to Emily in a flashback. She said, ‘What will you do if I’m gone?’ And he said, ‘Marry Geri and work at Sidestep.’ And that was always kind of a joke for what the end of the series would be,” she said. “But in my mind, I didn’t want to get all the way to a proposal…I don’t think they’re there yet.”

If there’s one thing Fricke is most disappointed she won’t get to explore, it’s James Van Der Beek’s arc as Walker’s new neighbor — a full circle moment for the showrunner, whose first TV job was on Dawson’s Creek.

In the final moments of the episode, Van Der Beek pulls up to the house as Walker and his family are headed on their vacation and, even though the moment is fleeting, it hints at a deliciously dramatic storyline for Season 5.

“It was gonna be a cool. We had big plans for Season 5,” Fricke said. “Well, maybe there’ll be a movie.”

Well, whatever iteration of Walker may or may not come next, Fricke adds that she has plenty of ideas to explore.

“Even from the first whisper of maybe this is the end, the producers were all talking about, ‘How do we keep this going? What do we spin off? What do we do?'” she said. “I think these are great characters and a great world and I absolutely love working with the crew in Austin. So we definitely think about it a lot.”

When asked if she could divulge any of her ideas, she teased: “We always wanted to do the Hawk’s Shadow story. I would really follow any of these characters. I really always wanted to see more out of any of them. I would follow any of them anywhere, to be honest.”

deadline

[billdenbrough]

fundamentally disinterested in the recurring discourse about kevin's drinking that aims to a) make it his Specific Problem To Focus On And Overcome when it is a crutch and coping mechanism to get him through a Much Bigger Problem (emotional fallout he can't square with by himself, culture shock, trauma, loss of his extremely wildly co-dependent relationship w riko, losing the structure of the nest, mourning a future he was meant to have, processing a grave injustice, anger and fear and desperate grief, all of which is his Actual Specific Fox Problem) while he builds himself back up, and b) thinks that even if it is a problem (more on that later), it's the foxes' problem to deal with.

like. it's just not.

yeah, he doesn't drink until he meets them. they gave him that habit, and in traditional terms, they're (the monsters specifically) a 'bad influence'. but these are the foxes. this is kevin day, son of exy, whose meteor is crashing spectacularly through no fault of his own. there are no traditional terms to be found here. the framework for it literally doesn't exist. neil comes into the foxes with more conventional expectations—appalled at the athletes' substance use, his horror at matt's trip to columbia, his steadfast and early repeated stance that none of the foxes should let andrew treat them the way he does, and certainly not nicky—and tends to engage with them less as the series goes on and he folds himself into the foxes. the thing about the foxes is that they've all been in pits deeper than they are tall. and some of them got a helping hand on the way—erik, andrew's extreme intervention methods, stephanie walker—and wymack was always waiting for them on the other side, ready to throw down a rope, but all the foxes dragged themselves out of their own holes. often not alone, often not without assistance, but at the end of the day, they have to do it.

there's that line neil has about aaron in that scene that got deleted when the timeline shifted around, when he thinks about how aaron got this far in life on his own, surviving on willpower and sheer desperation. that applies to aaron in a way that's a little more acute than some of the rest of them—boy who doesn't let the foxes in bc of andrew, boy who doesn't let nicky in bc he doesn't know how, boy made of flinching and seeking an escape and grieving the one who hurt him—but is broadly true for the foxes en masse.

this isn't to say the foxes can't help each other, but it's not their job. it just isn't. they'll keep kevin alive, keep him safe, keep him flanked and contained within their ranks. they'll fight tooth and nail in this battle with him, fight to get him to that championship game, fight to get that trophy in his hands. but that's all they've agreed to. that's all they're responsible for, in this covenant they've made with him. he says they can make this happen, and they're going to get him to that final game, but it's up to him what state he's in when he gets there.

like. they're foxes. they've been triaging their whole lives. they hate each other and they hate everyone else more. they're the kids with their backs up against the wall. half of them are addicts. i don't think kevin is comparable, personally; he's getting through a horrific situation with a coping mechanism. that's not the same thing as battling yourself to stop using. but that's not really the point of this. what i'm getting at here is that to the foxes, it's easy math: kevin who can lean on vodka and andrew and wymack and the foxes to stay upright when he's not ready to stand on his own two feet is still a kevin who is standing. a kevin with one less piece of scaffolding to lean on is a kevin who falls over, a kevin at risk of complete collapse, a kevin one phone call away from running back to the master, a kevin one crucial loss away from not ever making it back to himself at all. they're triaging. this is low on the totem pole of things they have the room to care about. they very much have bigger problems, both individually and even just kevin-related. if alcohol makes seeing the boy he knew best in the world and moved in tandem with his whole life and who destroyed their entire legacy and his entire life in one move — if alcohol makes facing that boy easier to stomach, then, fuck, why would they take that away? they're foxes. they've all got their demons. this is what kevin needs this year and a half to let him face his, that's all. they can understand that. it doesn't have to be pretty, as long as it keeps him in the fight. that's the priority.

i think there's absolutely space to explore this in fic and art and fandom in a way that maybe does explore it as a Problem, both that it's an active problem for kevin & that it's something to explore other foxes helping him with (there's a t&n fic that i've been gnawing at the bit to read for months that seems poised to explore this premise, and that's super up my alley)! i just think we're in different territory when we're talking about the series—and its characters and dynamics—in a conversational rather than transformational way, and end up talking about this like the foxes are responsible for kevin's choices. i love kevin day. i read these back at the start of 2015 & he's so dear to me that loving him was the blueprint for how i feel abt kageyama. but it's been pretty weird to see how the conversation has been translating Loving Kevin Day into... thinking the foxes are doing wrong by him with respect to this in actual canon. like that's just not how it operates there

[theotheronedotorg]

What would mama walker be like at a holiday party, particularly one that included the other Ghosts? How would she “control” the Ghost boys?

Thank you for sending in a request, Anon! I'm sorry if it wasn't what you were thinking.

Warning: A little mention of 9/11. I don't know much about toddlers, so I apologize if I got the personality and/or attitude wrong.

Mama Walker!Reader AU

• So, Mama is the type to be quiet and awkward when the party is just starting, or when she just gets there, but then she'll be pretty talkative and the nicest person you'll ever meet.

• Of course, if it was her party that she'd be throwing, she'd still be pretty awkward, but instead of growing more comfortable, she'd secretly get panicked.

• She wants her guests to be as comfortable as possible, but she'll be too awkward to forwardly ask if everyone is enjoying their time or not.

She took in a breath, smoothing out the Christmas red dress she wore, the material stretching out lovingly around her pregnant belly. The white fluff that circled her shoulders from behind and dipped to meet just above her swollen breasts felt like a cat's fluffy hide against her pale skin. The dress was made with the image of a pregnant woman in mind, with the front of the skirt being a bit longer than the back to give off the illusion of it all being one length as it reached her slightly swollen ankles.

She couldn't understand why she felt so nervous. She knew everyone at the party, and she wasn't the host of it, but she still felt nervous. Maybe it was because she hadn't seen most of her and Elias's friend group since last year. That could be it, but then again, her and the girls tended to talk a lot on the phone.

Maybe it was because of the planes? Ever since the four planes struck American soil three months ago, there hadn't been many outings. Many were still grieving, and most were in denial of such a tragedy occurring. Mama knew that things like this happened. She was married to a soldier for Christ's sake, but even she still couldn't believe such a thing could happen.

"Nervous?" Her husband's voice sounded from behind her, his hand pressed to the small of her back as David held his other one, staring off into the winter-covered land. His 2-year-old brain was still rather scattered, all memory and focus all over the place. Though, one thing was for certain. He didn't like social gatherings.

Mama blinked once more and tilted her head to gaze into Elias's eyes, his brown ones peering gently into her more green ones. Honestly, how could one's eyes look more green than their natural color? It was weird, but it was so perfect on her.

"Only a little." She responded after a hesitant pause. "I haven't talked to Gabe in a while." She breathed out, shuffling on her feet. The light brown boots she wore kept her feet patted comfortably, but even she could feel the slight pain in them from standing for so long in the lobby.

"Last time I talked to him," Elias hummed as he raised his eyes towards the ceiling, tracing the lines that were painted against the panels, "he was focusing his time on fixing his cars and being on deployment."

The woman hummed lightly, sliding her hand to the underside of her swollen belly and raising her other one to brush some hair behind her ear. She knew she should have put it up before they left. "Well, I hope he doesn't drain himself with how much work he's putting himself through."

Elias nodded, looking back down to his wife, "You and me both, hon."

"Bunny!" Mama jumped from her stance at the slightly bigger-than-average round kitchen table and turned towards the strong voice, smiling when she saw the bald man walking over to her.

"Hey. Gabe." She spoke softly and opened her arms, inviting the male in for a hug, which he greatly appreciated and accepted. Minding her baby mound, he wrapped his arms around her upper back and squeezed her gently, smiling as her arms encircled his upper back and applied slight pressure there. "How are you doing?" She asked softly and pulled away, holding his strong biceps for a moment as her eyes darted over him, taking in the black wrap that stood against his red Christmas sweater. She honestly forgot he sometimes needed a back brace. He was still young, about 27 now, but the poor man had messed up his back a few years back to the point he needed a back brace for when he was going to be standing for long periods of time.

She took her hands back and placed them to her stomach, her eyes darting back to looking into his warm brown ones.

"I'm doing good." He responded, nodding towards the drinks, ones that weren't alcoholic, and raised his brow in a silent question. "Been working on a few bikes here and there. Landlord is still a bitch, though." She smiled at his words and moved towards the front of the round table. She's always liked Gabriel Rorke, he was the one who introduced her and Elias. Even though it was he who was flirting with her that night, she was glad to call him a friend.

"And I'm guessing your neighbor is still the old lady who flirts?" She laughed out as he groaned, already knowing the answer to her question. She tipped her glass to her lips, taking a sip of the liquid gold (water) she had picked from the non-alcoholic section of the room. Her eyes roamed around the room as Gabriel began to talk about Mrs. Clark and how she kept on scaring away any potential flings by grossly flirting and/or yelling at him about cheating.

She furrowed a brow when she noticed a bump in a tablecloth from across the room. When she glanced towards Elias, who was by the table, his eyes met hers, almost as if sensing her intention of a silent conversation. Her gaze glanced around his person and found no 2-year-old child. She looked at the bump one more time before glancing back to his eyes. All he did was nod and jerked his head towards the said table.

She took in a breath and looked back to Gabriel, placing her cup down and smiling apologetically at the 27-year-old. All he did was stare at her for a moment before he sighed.

"Yeah, okay. I'll be here."

"Thank you, Gabe." She smiled and walked past him, sending him a parting wave, to which he returned it with one of his own.

"Now," she mumbled and sat down, rubbing her stomach slightly as she felt the kick of the baby against her insides. It made her let out a breath and rub against the offending area. "Easy on the kicks. Any more, and you'll pop out." She took in a breath and leaned back in her seat, letting it back out as she felt another kick, this one softer.

She tipped her head back and closed her eyes, keeping herself still and relaxed before she tipped her head down and looked to the tablecloth.

"David," she mumbled softly and tilted her head to the side, her eyes questioning, "Why are you under the table?"

"There's a lot of people."

"And you don't like a lot of people?"

"I don't like people."

Mama blinked at his response and looked away, raising her hand to hide her smile behind the back of it. He'd had such a way with words that it made her crack up sometimes.

"Really?" She asked and looked back to the white material that draped around the table's legs. She blinked when no response came, but a smile quickly rose to her lips when she watched the 2-year-old crawl out from under the table and stand, holding onto her dress and watching her stomach. He's been fascinated with it ever since she began to show. Her hand moved, lifting from her cradled position against her stomach, and placed it on his blonde fluffy hair. At this point, it was useless trying to tame it. He'd just mess it up five minutes after she'd finish.

"That was boring," David grumbled into his father's chest, the man held him against his strong build as the three walked across the parking lot and to their car. The response he got was an amused snort from his father and a giggle from his mother.

"Really?" Mama questioned lightly, the image of David passed out on the couch inside the big apartment's living room still amused her. "Is it because people were there?"

Elias gave his wife an amused smile and rolled his eyes at the nod the toddler gave.

"Well," she started, "You did great tonight. How about we get ice cream tomorrow?" The promise of a sweet treat made David perk up and he looked to her with stars in his eyes.

"Really?" He smiled wide, "Can we get ice cream now?"

She let out a soft laugh and shook her head. David could be seen physically deflating as she stopped before the car and watched as Elias opened the front passenger door for her.

"We can get some tomorrow." He promised, watching his wife shuffle in, making sure her feet and hands were safely inside before closing the door. He glanced back to it before his eyes met his son's and he pressed his forehead to his smaller one. "Plus," he whispered and smiled as David placed his small hands on his cheeks, "Mama's tired. It's best to sleep now before she falls asleep in the car."

David's smile rose to his rather tired face and he let out a giggle."Mama's hard to wake up she's sleeping."

Elias hummed in agreement as he opened the back door and placed David into his car seat, buckling him into place.

• As for why Keegan and Merrick weren't there, those two aren't old enough to join the army.

• Keegan is roughly around 8 years older than Logan, 6 for David, and Merrick is 13-15 years older.

• I feel as if it would be a bit weird to put them in.

• I like to think that none of them lived in the same state before they joined the military as well, so to go to a party that would probably not even be in their state would have been pointless.

• As for 'controlling' the Ghosties, I don't exactly see her being a mom to any of them.

• Not that I don't think she wouldn't be, she totally would have. But I don't think she would have met them.

• Other than Rorke. She'd known him the longest, which was, like, minutes before she met Elias.

Taglist: @brokenpieces-72 @rerejunebug

[aubadeatelier]

Happy 20th Anniversary D. Gray-man!

On 31 May 2004, an amazing journey began with Allen Walker making his way to the European Branch of the Black Order as a new exorcist.

And now, it is 31 May 2024, 20 years of a still on-going journey. A lot has happened and changed and yet, he keeps walking.

Happy Birthday, D. Gray-man! And thank you for everything you've brought to me and so many others!

This post contains the pieces I did for the D. Gray-man 20th Anniversary Zine. 1 Party Doodle and 2 Redraw Project pages. Please enjoy! To see the whole zine, please access the zine through the link below to the project tumblr!

✦ D. Gray-man 20th Anniversary Zine ✦

Please make sure to take a look at the whole zine! I had the greatest honor to work with more than 100+ amazing artists across the world. It would mean a lot to me and all those who worked on this zine to have our work seen together as one!

(PS. I asked a funny little question in the Party Doodle section of the zine!)

[Beyond this point are my pieces and some fun facts!]

Party Doodle || A Celebration from 35 Years Ago featuring from bottom left, Mana D. Campbell, Nea D. Campbell, ???, Cross Marian, and Timcampy. ✦ I originally made this celebration doodle with the intention of just drawing Nea, ???, and Timcampy. But upon popular demand and the power of friendship (shoutout to Hana Hazel, Kanin, and Sabhamun), I ended up adding Cross Marian and Mana! And honestly, the additions were a great idea and really make the piece feel more lively and fun! (Also we need more Campbell brothers content damn it. I wanna see them happy!) ✦ Also, if any of your are up-to-date at this point, you know Chapter 251 coming out shook so many things including this piece that was already done when it released. But! I think it's fun to keep it as is as a relic of the pre-251 era. (Who knows? Maybe I'll make a fixed version!)

Redraw Project Page 01 || Chapter 04. Page 119. ✦ The first redraw page I received for assignment! I ended up liking the page, because it felt to me an integral establishing page for the series' themes. I may have gotten a little overboard with how I wanted to interpret the page, but I thought originally I would not be doing a second page and thus, wanted to put a lot of effort. In D. Gray-man, Akuma are created when a person makes a deal with the Millennium Earl. More often than not, the person has no idea what this deal entails, only that they can bring their loved one back from the dead if they agree to it. But what happens when the person is aware or knows not to accept the Earl's deal? And we receive a heart-wrenching, but understandable answer. To have the knowledge of the Earl's tricks does not automatically save a person. The Earl preys on the vulnerable. He appears and makes his offer to those in the deepest pits of despair and grief. That is how he got Leo. He was just a kid who lost his mother. He may have known more about the Earl and Akuma, because of his friendship with Jean, but when you are grieving kid-- what do you do when someone promises you they'll bring back your mother who was taken from you so suddenly? It is difficult to say no. ✦ The books that frame the piece are meant to convey this emphasis of knowledge and study-- the days Jean and Leo spent reading through Jean's father's books and notes about the Earl and Akuma with intention to patrol their town and keep people safe. Ultimately, a book page is the last panel, showing a representation of Leo and the Earl at a grave as Leo becomes an example of a person who takes the Earl's deal and whose body is taken by an Akuma. ✦ The blue tones of Jean and the Akuma were on purpose made to contrast the warmer tones of Jean and Leo's days together. ✦ It was crazy getting to draw an Akuma's face. It was a challenge to try and draw kids, but I ended getting through it pretty well. ✦ There are a few silly easter eggs in the open books. I put a small anniversary message in one. And in the other, I tried to sketch Cornelia and the Campbell Estate with the lyrics of the 14th's song. A nod to some content in the later parts of the series.

Redraw Project Page 02 || Chapter 01. Page 38. ✦ Originally, the plan was I only would do 1 redraw page and 1 doodle, but we needed fill-ins and I took a shot at it! ✦ When I found out it was a page from Chapter 1, I was ecstatic! I had originally wanted to do one from the chapter, but they were high in demand which was more than understandable. ✦ Unlike my first redraw page, I decided to be a little more simplistic with the layout. This layout is not too far off from that of the Katsura Hoshino's, but I made a few changes such as certain angles, drawing characters closer to emphasize faces. ✦ I am not the strongest with backgrounds and drawing buildings, but I ended up enjoying the challenge of it all. Thankfully, a lot of other artists in the project tackled the building and referenced the original page, the pages and sketches of the building or interior by other project artists, and the anime to ready myself to tackle it! ✦ The spirals of the Akuma bullet gave me trouble at first, but then I ended up enjoying it as I figured it out. ✦ This page was overall a big joy to play with as it challenged me with backgrounds, certain effects, and word bubbles.

And with that, this concludes the tour of my work on the D. Gray-man 20th Anniversary Zine. I have so much to say about this series and what it means to me, but I will try not to make this post horridly longer.

D. Gray-man is the series that made me fall in love with storytelling and art. It showed me something that filled an emptiness I felt. It gave me joy and company at a time where I felt unsure who I was and felt like an outcast. My resolution after this project is to continuously grow better at my stories and art. I hope to make something as meaningful to myself and others as D. Gray-man is.

Happy 20th Anniversary D. Gray-man! I hope and pray for more wonderful chapters and for there to be a lovely conclusion someday. For now, let us keep walking together!