#mentions of Carol Peletier

[paledarklight]

not all Carylers are bad (I'm not a caryler, I'm a Donnie shippers) but some Carylers are actually nice. But Bethyl is still better than Caryl, because, let's be honest, Carol should've stayed with Ezekiel

Carol had many people that she could have chosen.

I'm not saying she's ugly, she isn't a troll I have eyes I'm aware for her age she's fine but what makes her unattractive in my eyes is her inability to back off

My 1# issue is he already has consent issues/trauma

I'm 100% certain that he was probably molested, Merle would have made sure that his baby brother wasn't a fag so he would have done ...what he had to do in his eyes .

Carol hit on him he said stop

She made the joke about him going down on her , people can brush that off as joking but he said stop twice, he shouldn't have to then blatantly say Hey that makes me uncomfortable please stop

If the roles were reversed everyone wouldn't shut up about it and people would riot but because she's a woman and older people see it as cute.its not cute

This goes for everyone, No means no,

NO DOESN'T MEAN TRY HARDER

No doesn't mean keep persistence

No means no, no means I'm uncomfortable please stop

Maybe she thinks she deserves it, she's had to fuck Ed for so long and Daryl is young and tight body and he probably could fuck someone right, why shouldn't she force herself onto him

Take what she deserves.

....

Because he said no that's why,

You should have backed off

[shimmershae]

“M’not wearing a tie.”  (a Walking Dead drabble, Caryl AU).

Pretty much an immediate follow up to “I’m not wearing a dress” which I just posted.  

In the effort to be helpful, I’m just gonna C & P that little blurb.  ;)

This one’s AU but I’m thinking, how’s about we put it happening right before Daryl, Carol, and Co. make the decision to check out the Commonwealth?  Things are still strained between them but wary of what awaits them in this strange new place, they decide to tie themselves together in a way they hope the Commonwealth cannot break.  

The things they won’t do for those Grimes babies.  The things they won’t do to stay together.  

She wears a fucking dress.  

 It’s red, matches the color that rises high in her dimpled cheeks when she sees him and Lydia coming down the church’s dusty aisle, and it looks so soft.  She looks so soft, and he’s, well.  “M’not wearing a tie.”  

 “Rosita wouldn’t rest until I put this on.”  

 “Red suits you.”

 “Better than pink, Pookie?”

 Laughter huffs from his lips and in that moment?  When he feels himself falling into her depthless blue eyes?  The distance that’s stretched so painfully between them is not so much forgotten as acknowledged and set aside.  “You ready?”  

 “Ready.”  

[garma-mom]

imagine being racist towards michonne. might as well write scum on your forehead. whether you like it or not "uncle" merle was a shitty character and deserved to be cut off ❤️

REALITY CHECK: Micheal rooker has no idea who you are and doesn't give two shits about your blog ❤️

do you really think he'd want to associate himself with you after calling his FRIEND and CO-STAR the n-word?!

get help.

First of all, BITCH:

You are pathetic writing your comment and taking it out on another person. Everyone has the right to hate or love certain fictional characters, but YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO JUDGE OTHERS AND OFFEND THEM, YOU BITCH.

Secondly: Merle was also a racist, not towards Michonne, but towards T-Dog.

Besides, Michael left the show himself, they didn't fire him, educate yourself, you idiot, and then speak up, because you could fill three pig pens with the shit you have in your head.

Thirdly: Norman Reedus ALSO DOESN'T KNOW who you are, and that's a good thing, because you would make him cry.

Go back to school and don't bother me, you American shithead.

Here you go, shithead, sorry, @merlesuckass. You're really, really pathetic.

And I guess you're black in real life. That's why you took a shit about it. Pheeew, damn. Why me.

[futuregws]

Tomorrow's the day, some people are gonna put their "crazy" hat on and the others get to see how stupid the shit those people say can get.

There's two groups on the "crazy" category, the ones that the first thing that they are gonna do is create couples specially with Daryl, and the other is you know who.

[shimmershae]

The family scenes they could have given us in that house with Carol, Daryl, and those kids. We were so robbed.

Merry and Bright, *13* (a Walking Dead story, Caryl + Lydia and the Grimes babies).

Post Season 10 marshmallow fluff where the Whisperers are defeated.  In Michonne’s continued absence, Carol and Daryl take care of the kids and create a different kind of family.  

“Life ain’t no fucking fairy tale, Kid.  We happen upon Rudolph, we’re taking his ass down to eat.  Not bringing him home and domesticating him.  He’d make a real fine Christmas dinner.”  

Carol’s blue eyes widened in alarm, but RJ merely took Daryl’s plainly spoken truth in stride, holding up his other foot for his uncle to knot the laces for him.  

“Uncle Daryl!” Judith barked as she entered the kitchen.  “Language!”  

“What she said,” Carol warned.  She absently lifted an arm for the little girl to tuck under, relishing the warm press of her fleeting hug for but a second before Judith pulled away with a smile and her hands tucked back behind her back.  

Finished with RJ’s boot laces, Daryl stood and ruffled the unruly mop atop the boy’s head before outing Judith’s thieving ways.  “Come again, Butter Fingers?”  

“Let me see,” Carol encouraged.  When two small hands emerged holding a sizeable hank of bread, and Judith’s only defense of her actions was a guilty little grin reminiscent of the mama she never met, she had to fight to control her warring emotions.  The amused twitch of her lips won out, and her sigh was more for show than anything.  “At least share with your brother.”  

Daryl nodded in agreement.  “Gonna need your strength for the hunt.”  

“Okay,” Judith cheerfully singsonged, plopping herself down into the chair adjacent to the one RJ resided in.  

Soon, their shared chatter filled the kitchen, and Carol found herself sharing a soft smile with Daryl across the way, seeing the two little heads bent together.  That smile stretched wider still when Daryl closed the distance between them and tried his own hand at pilfering and she laughed, grabbing his hands in her own and staying them.  “Not you, too.”  

Daryl slipped his hands free of hers and settled them on her hips, leaning her back against the kitchen island.  “Why not?  Ain’t cute enough?”  Even as the words left his mouth, a pink flush stained his cheeks and traveled all the way to  his ears where they peeked out from his very own mop of hair.  

Carol’s own cheeks warmed at the adorable sight and she lifted a hand, tenderly thumbing the whiskers on his chin.  “Really, Mr. Crossbow?  It’s beneath you to fish for compliments.”  

“Beneath me, huh?  Beneath me?  Didn’t much seem to mind last night when you…”  

“Eww.  Gross,” Lydia muttered as she made her own belated appearance, Dog loping lazily along beside her.  “I really didn’t need to hear that.”  Reaching around Carol, she helped herself to her own piece of bread and trudged to the rest of the way to the kitchen table, still groggy after spending half the night on watch with Rosita.  

Dog flopped down at her feet and issued a low whine of appeal for a bite.  

Once again, Carol made allowances and turned a blind eye when the canine benefitted from a fortuitous slip of Lydia’s fingers.  Catching sight of Daryl’s eyes sneaking a peek over her shoulder, she shook her head.  “Go ahead.  I know you want to.”  She clutched at Daryl’s broad shoulders when one big hand found its way to her hair instead, cradling the back of her head to hold her still for his kiss to her arched brow.  The sweet kiss he pressed against her lips, fully aware of the audience pretending not to watch, melted what little resistance she had left and her arms slid around his neck.  “I don’t know what you’re going to eat for lunch on this great hunt of yours.”  

“Ain’t gonna take all that long,” he promised.  

“Famous last words.”  

“Nah.  Tree could be a Charlie Brown tree.  Still be perfect.  Know why?”  

Carol searched his eyes with the softest of smiles.  “Why?”  

“It’d be ours.”  

“Merle was right.  You are the sweet one.”  

“Stahp.”  

Daryl’s token protest was quick on his lips, but not as quick as his answering smile when she gave him a playful nudge aside and a helpful bit of advice.  “Don’t bring home a Charlie Brown tree.”  

“Uncle Darwyl,” RJ lisped.  “What’s a Charlie Brown tree?” 

[dixons-sunshine]

No Backing Out | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: When you told Daryl you were pregnant, he vowed to himself he would be there for you throughout everything. However, when Daryl got a message over the radio that your water had broken, and he wasn’t anywhere near the community, his heart dropped, and he raced back towards the safe zone, his only hope being that you hadn’t been forced to go through everything alone.

Genre: Slightly angsty/fluffy.

Era: Alexandria, set post Saviour arc.

Warnings: Mentions of labour and child birth.

Word count: 1k.

A/N: I don’t know what this is. I had this idea of Daryl nearly missing his child’s birth and (very poorly) executed it. I’m sorry this sucks, but I hope this is still somewhat enjoyable.

With a loud, deafening screech, the rusted gates of the safe zone rolled open, allowing the approaching blue vehicle to drive into the safety of the community’s walls. The car barely had time to come to a stop within the gated community before the door of the vehicle was flung open. Daryl scrambled to get out of the vehicle, nearly falling to the ground in his haste, and took off in a sprint. He accidentally dropped his beloved crossbow on the gravel, but he didn’t even realize. His only concern was getting to your shared home, to you. He just hoped he wasn’t too late.

He just hoped his mission beyond the walls with Rick hadn’t cost him being there for the birth of his child.

The message that Carol had relayed to Daryl and Rick over the radio still rung clear in his mind. ‘Y/N’s water broke’. That message had Daryl regretting ever leaving your side that morning in the first place. He should have told Rick to take someone else instead. If he had, then he wouldn’t be running down the streets of Alexandria, praying to whatever entity was listening that he wasn’t too late.

Your shared home came into view, and Daryl picked up the pace. Even when running from walkers, Daryl had never run quite as fast as he was at that moment. Each moment he slowed to catch his breath could potentially lead to you having to go through everything alone, if you hadn’t already gone through everything alone. He really hoped you hadn’t. He would feel like the lowest piece of shit on earth if he had missed it.

He ran up the porch steps, taking three steps at a time. He flung the front door open, the wood crashing against the wall, but Daryl didn’t care. A hole in the wall could be fixed. Missing the birth of his child couldn’t.

Daryl opened his mouth to call out to Carol, but the woman—who had been keeping in contact with Rick and had gotten the message that Daryl was on his way—rushed down the stairs. Her eyes locked onto Daryl’s, and she gave him a warm, albeit strained, smile.

Daryl’s heart practically pounded against his ribcage. “Has she—”

“No,” Carol cut him off, a small chuckle escaping her, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. “No, she hasn’t. But she’s about to any moment.”

That was all the confirmation the archer needed. Without needing to be pushed to do so, Daryl pressed past the Peletier woman, rushing up the stairs to get to the bedroom you were in. He flung the door open—the third door that day—and stepped into the room, his eyes wide. Daryl could vaguely make out two other figures in the room, those of Michonne and Siddiq, but his main focus was on you; more so on the pained expression on your face.

You looked up at Daryl, relief instantly noticable on your tear-streaked face. “Daryl...” you trailed off in a soft whisper, quietly calling for your archer to be with you, to reassure you that everything would be okay. You needed his comfort.

In one swift movement, Daryl made his way over to your side. He sat down on the bed, one of his hands immediately finding its place in yours. His other arm wrapped around your shoulders when you rested your head against his shoulder. “M’here, sweet girl,” he mumbled into your hair, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “M’so sorry I wasn’t here.” From the corner of his eye, he could see Michonne slip out of the room, and Carol walking inside and towards Siddiq.

“It’s okay. You’re here now,” you told him, sending him a smile, one that was strained due to the overwhelming pain that flooded through your body. You sat forward, out of his embrace, and let out a small cry, screwing your eyes shut in an attempt to will the pain away.

Daryl’s eyebrows furrowed together. He rubbed soothing circles over your back, and he pressed another kiss to the top of your head. “M’here. I got ya. Yer doin’ so good, Sweetheart.”Your exhausted body fell back against Daryl’s chest. Your breathing was heavy and uneven, the pain in both your back and abdomen failing to cease even the slightest bit. A small whimper fell from your lips, and Daryl’s heart ached for you.

Siddiq moved forward and examined your nether area. A small smile graced the doctor’s features, and he looked up at Daryl. “Seems to me like you got here in the nick of time, Daryl.” Siddiq shifted his attention back to you, and he adapted a gentler, almost understanding smile. “You’re fully dilated, Y/N. It’s time.”

Your heart began pounding against your ribcage. Your grip on Daryl’s hand tightened considerably, fear evident on your face. “I can’t do this,” you whispered through your tears.

Daryl’s thumb rubbed soothingly over your knuckles. “Yer the strongest person I know. If there’s anyone that can do this, s’ya. Ya can do this. I know ya can. And I’mma be by yer side the whole time, alright?” When you sent him a small, grateful smile, he continued in a slightly joking tone. “‘Sides, pretty sure there ain’t no backin’ out now.”

“There’s not,” Carol commented, taking your other hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “This baby’s coming. You’re gonna meet your little one any minute now.” Her words barely had time to register in the air. Another sharp pain shot through your abdomen, making you cry out. Carol squeezed your hand again, understanding in her eyes. “Be strong, Honey. You can do this.”

You nodded, and shared a look with Daryl. “Don’t go. I can’t do this alone.”

Daryl shook his head. “I already said I ain’t goin’ nowhere, and I mean it. M’here for ya.” He placed a tender kiss to the side of your head. “I love ya, Sweetheart. Ya got this.”

His words rung through your ears, an anchor in your otherwise turmoil of a mind. However, as another cry of pain left your chest, and Siddiq told you it was time to start pushing, you prayed that his steadfast belief in you wasn’t misplaced.

[naughtyneganjdm]

Love's Second Chance: A Holiday Reunion - Chapter 1

Summary: Christmas time is supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year, but for Y/N it has become a lonely holiday now that she is a divorced mother. This Christmas, she gets looped into a love triangle with two lovers from her past, Joel Miller and Negan Smith, where the holiday brings all of them back together.

Characters: (in chapter 1) Joel Miller, Negan Smith (mentions), the reader (OC), Rosita Espinosa, Carol Peletier, Tommy Miller (mentions), etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60501985/chapters/154453672

Warnings: Alternate universe, swearing, angst, third person reader, female reader, reader is a mother, reader is divorced, reader was a teenage mother, reader is in her 30s, Joel and Negan have both been de-aged, etc. There is a mix of both TLOU and TWD characters. Please be sure to check the overall warnings on AO3, so you know what to expect!

Notes: I'm a fool for Christmas stories, so I'm back at it again this year. This time having a story featuring both Joel and Negan. Apparently my favorite duo! I will be updating this story three times a week until Christmas!

Remember Y/N means your name or whatever name you choose.

The warmth of a crackling fire. The scent of gingerbread, peppermint or a freshly put-up Christmas tree. It was amazing how many things could really start reminding you of Christmas. It was a time where those who celebrated would start to get excited for the festivities that were to come. Radio stations were playing Christmas music. Stores would be full with people shopping for both presents and food for their holidays. Christmas was always certain to draw out many emotions from people. Whether it was the excitement of the holiday, the events that you could go to, getting together with your family or just the whole genre all together.

Sometimes baking, decorating, planning and enjoying the overall atmosphere of Christmas could be a good distraction for someone who was going through a hard time. Right now that was the primary focus for Y/N. It was toward the end of her workday. Luckily, she got to work remotely from home so that meant she could also do other things at home when she had her breaks. Right now, the smell of gingerbread and sugar cookies were filling her home and she knew the timer would be going off any moment now. She was in the middle of a video call with her boss Carol and her best friend Rosita who had gotten her this job so many years ago when she was in need of one. What was supposed to be a rundown of the work they were getting done when Y/N went on vacation had become a talk between friends instead. Each person going over what they would be doing for the holiday.

“You seem distracted,” Rosita noted with Y/N looking back over her shoulder. Forcing herself to look back at the screen, Y/N realized that she must have checked on the timer too much. Rosita wasn’t one to pick up on things like that easily, so it had to have been a lot. “What are you up to now?”

“I’m just baking some cookies before the children get home,” Y/N was honest with the two. There was no reason for her to lie. She got her work done fast. In fact, she was the best worker in the business. Not that it was a great job or something entirely too complicated. It was just a data entry job that she had gotten when she was younger so that way she could help cover the bills. It wasn’t her dream job, but Y/N had gotten pregnant when she was seventeen and had her daughter when she was eighteen. That led to her not being able to get a degree until years later and it was just an associate degree from the local community college. At the time she got the job, she was desperately in need of a job that allowed her to be home with the baby and this one just happened to work out. Thankfully, Carol understood at the time because she had children as well and this job worked for her. Y/N always told herself that she would get a different job eventually. One that was better, but now her daughter was seventeen and she also had a son that was thirteen. She just got comfortable in the job that she was in and stayed. It wasn’t something to brag about, but at least she liked the people she worked with. And she got to stay home except for going into the office a few times a month. She couldn’t really complain. Especially when she got to be home to raise the children. “Their dad picked them up from school and they were supposed to be going out to eat with him.”

“I don’t know how you do it girl,” Rosita declared with a long sigh, adjusting her Bluetooth earphones that she was using over the video. “It’s super hard with just having Coco running around the house now. Yet, here you are baking cookies, decorating the house, being the amazing PTO mom for your children.”

“It’s a little different having teenage children than it is a toddler,” Y/N reminded her friend with a hesitant laugh. “I remember the days of Elizabeth and Peter being that age and it was hard. Sleep was not a normal thing during those days.”

“And suddenly I’m very happy that Sophia and Benjamin are in college and Henry is about to graduate,” Carol spoke up with a half-smile, throwing her hands up in the air when she spoke. “Kids are cute, but if I could do it all over again, I’m not sure I would.”

“Carol!” Rosita laughed making Y/N smile when her over the top boss continued to make a very dramatic expression. “I doubt Ezekiel would be happy hearing you say that.”

“What Ezekiel doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Carol placed her hand to her chest, and, in that moment the sound of the timer for the cookies was going off. “Alright ladies. We can sign off now so you can get to the rest of your day. Enjoy your holiday vacation, Y/N.”

Signing out of work and closing up her laptop, Y/N pushed back her chair and headed into the kitchen. It had been a few years since Y/N had really taken time off for herself. In the past she would have taken vacation time a lot, but not so much lately. That’s why she had taken it all at once. She had to take it, so it just made sense to do it at Christmas time. It gave her more time to focus on the children and enjoy the holiday.

Taking her cookies out of the oven, she set them out onto a rack to cool them. Preparing the frosting, she knew that the kids often liked to help so she was getting things ready for them. Likely, she would start the decorating of the cookies and they would help her finish. While the cookies continued to cool, she made her way around the house cleaning things up. The fireplace was on which gave a nice aura to the room that matched the lights that went with the heavily decorated tree in the corner of the living room. At the bottom of the tree was a toy train that her family had been collecting multiple pieces for since she was eighteen years old. It was a tradition to put it out every year. And each year they would try to add pieces to it. For Christmas, she had always tried to go out of her way to make it magical for her children. Being such a young mom, she wanted to do her best to make the holiday feel special for her children. At first, they didn’t have much, so she had to find ways to make things special and decorating was really the easiest way to do that.

Moving over toward the front window, there was a nook that was dawned with a Christmas village with extensive buildings and figurines that she had been collecting since she was younger as well. Each year she would buy one piece to add to it and it always looked really neat setting it up every year and lighting it up in the front window. Turning that on, she knew this was a daily thing. She got into the routine of things and it was just normal for her. Stockings were hanging in front of the fireplace and it just felt cozy for anyone that may have enjoyed Christmas.

Heading back into the kitchen, she started decorating the sugar cookies first. There were various shapes of candy canes, Santa hats, sleighs, stuffed bears, snowmen, reindeer and snowflakes. Those she figured her children would be less interested in decorating. It was usually the gingerbread men and women they had the most fun with.

The sound of the front door pushing open was heard and it made her smile when her son calling out to her followed, “Mom? Where are you?”

“In the kitchen kiddo,” she responded, raising her voice just enough. It was probably obvious where she was, but her son was very dramatic and liked to make his presence known. Hearing the sound of footsteps, she gasped when she felt a pair of arms wrapping around her and hugging her firmly from behind. Looking over her shoulder, she saw her son cuddling into her and it made her smile. “Hey Peter. How was school?”

“It was the last day before vacation, so great,” Peter offered up a big smile, his long eyelashes fluttering to an open. Y/N turned on her heel, brushing her fingers through her son’s dark hair and he gave her a weak smile. “I’m not supposed to tell you, but dad got me a big peppermint chocolate shake today at the diner. It was huge! It had sprinkles too.”

“Good job at keeping a secret,” Y/N heard the sound of her daughter coming into the kitchen. Elizabeth’s dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail, her dark eyes connecting with her mother’s when she dropped her backpack down in the corner of the kitchen. “No one is going to trust you with a secret ever. I hope you know that.”

“I have a hard time lying,” Peter explained, moving in beside his mother to see all the cookies she had already decorated. “I’m going to be on such a sugar high tonight.”

“Maybe you don’t deserve to eat those cookies since you told on me,” a voice spoke up from the entrance of the kitchen making Y/N look back. “Ellie had my back. You on the other hand…”

“Liz. I want to be called Liz, dad,” Elizabeth corrected her father making him groan out in frustration, reaching out to pull his daughter in closer to him. A frustrated sound fell from Elizabeth with how hard her father was hugging her to his chest. “Dad! Come on!”

“You know she wants to be called Liz now, Joel,” Y/N corrected with a long sigh. It had the color flooding into Elizabeth’s face since both her parents weren’t really latching onto the whole Liz nickname. “I’m also aware of it, but I’m still having a hard time not calling her Elizabeth.”

“I reckon I’m never going to be able to remember this whole Liz thing,” Joel’s southern drawl lingered, his dark eyes narrowing when he lifted his hand to give Y/N a small wave. It had her returning the gesture watching Joel lean down to press a kiss against Elizabeth’s temple. Looking between the three of them, she let out a long sigh. The older the children got, the more they looked like their father. Joel’s genes were strong in both Elizabeth and Peter. They had his eye color, skin tone and hair color. The trio looked gorgeous on her daughter and her son looked like a mini version of Joel. Pretty close to what she remembered when she first met Joel. “You’re always going to be my Ellie. You should know that. No matter how old you get, or how uncool it is to call you that. I’ve been calling you Ellie since before you could walk.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know,” Elizabeth pat her father on the stomach playfully. Pulling out from beneath Joel’s arm, Elizabeth moved over to look at the cookies. Almost instinctively she reached for some of the decorating icing to start helping. Following in his sister’s footsteps, Peter started to help as well.

“I always loved this day,” Joel stammered, walking across the kitchen to step in behind Y/N. Lowering his head in beside hers, Joel let his breath linger against the side of her neck. The closeness of him surprised her as he stretched his arm out to grab one of the sugar cookies that hadn’t been decorated yet. Instead of pulling away, Joel turned in to press a kiss against her cheek and it had her eyes coming to a tight close. Once the warmth of him left, her eyes opened and she saw him resting back against the counter. Tipping his head back, he dropped the cookie into his mouth and groaned at the way it tasted. “Your cookies were always top notch.”

“And you always stole a ton of them before they were done being decorated,” Y/N reminded Joel with a tiny chuckle causing him to shrug dramatically. Reaching for another cookie had her huffing out and he gave a wicked smirk.

Seeing Peter do the same made her scoff and shake her head. Wanting to be as much like his father as possible, Peter would often mimic the things that Joel would do. Which meant he plowed back two sugar cookies as well.

“How big was this shake?” Y/N wondered which had Joel shrugging and shaking his head. Obviously not wanting to give the answer.

“Gigantic,” Peter explained with a mouthful of the last cookie that he shoved into his mouth.

“You’re not helping buddy,” Joel grunted under his breath, swallowing down the last of his sugar cookie. “I need some milk.”

“You know where it is,” Y/N nodded toward the cabinet where the glasses were. With a sigh, Joel moved across the kitchen and grabbed four glasses setting them out on the counter. Heading over to the fridge, Joel pulled out the milk and started pouring a glass for everyone. “I guess it’s a good thing he is going to be with you tonight. Because you know how he gets when he has this much sugar.”

“I’m thirteen mom, I’m not six anymore,” Peter snickered, nudging his mother playfully with his hip and it had her smiling. “I can handle being on a sugar high. I’m a big boy.”

“Still my baby,” Y/N claimed with a wink, lowering down to press a kiss over the top of Peter’s head. “Did the two of you pack last night?”

“I did,” Elizabeth replied with a gaze down at her brother seeing him swallow down his last bit of cookie. “He did not.”

“Sellout,” Peter retorted under his breath, working to decorate the next cookie he grabbed from the rack. “I got…distracted. I was playing a game and before you know it, it was really late and I knew I had school…”

“Maybe you should have stopped playing the game?” Elizabeth suggested with a tip of her head, drawing Peter to grumble something under his breath.

“I really don’t understand why we can’t just have dad stay over,” Peter blurt out making Joel clear his throat. It had Y/N looking back at him and she could see that tension that filled Joel’s body while he was drinking the milk that he had poured for himself. “It’s Christmas. We should have things be the way they used to be.”

“That’s not how things are done when your parents are divorced,” Elizabeth stated with a roll of her eyes making Y/N’s heart skip a beat with her children talking about her and Joel. “We’re lucky that our parents get along. Some of my friends, their parents hate each other. Fight over them just to make the other mad. And it’s never about them, it’s always for personal reasons. It makes them miserable because the parents are more so focused on hurting the other one instead of loving them.”

“I’m just saying,” Peter kept up with his previous statement setting aside the decorated cookie and reaching for another. “I remember things being really fun when we did this. I miss that. I wish we could just go back to the way things were. Dad could move back in and we could do what we did every year.”

“Bud?” Joel spoke quietly which had Peter looking over his shoulder at his father. Joel shook his head and Peter’s tanned flesh went pale.

This was the fourth Christmas that the two of them had spent separated. It was three years since they had been divorced. Joel was her high school sweetheart. Both of them had big dreams. She wanted to travel the world and be a journalist. Live in the big city. Joel wanted to be either a football player or a professional singer. But when she got pregnant? That didn’t exactly work out for either one of them. It meant she never left her hometown. Neither did he.

Joel’s parents died tragically when he was eighteen which left him taking care of his little brother Tommy. Tommy was five years younger than Joel and because Joel didn’t want Tommy going into the system, he also adopted Tommy. So not only was he taking care of his little brother, but Joel had gotten Y/N pregnant not long after. That meant an incredible amount of stress had been thrown on him.

At first? Everything was okay between them. Joel married Y/N right after Elizabeth was born. They moved into Joel’s parents’ house and he was a great dad. He never stopped being a great dad. Joel took on his father’s business of being a contractor since he had helped his dad when he was a teenager while she stayed home taking care of both Elizabeth and Tommy. Four years after Elizabeth was born, they had Peter. Originally, it wasn’t too hard because Tommy helped out with the children and around the house, but when Tommy turned eighteen he decided that he wanted to make a difference in the world and joined the army. That alone stressed Joel out to the extreme.

By the time she was twenty-one and Joel was twenty-three they had been through a lot. More than most people their age had been. They weren’t making much money and they were doing their best just to get by. Thankfully, she got her job soon after that which helped with the bills and she got to stay home to take care of the children. It was a few years more before they moved out of Joel’s parents’ home and got one of their own. Even though she thought they had the perfect life, Joel was unhappy. And each day that became more and more clear. He was still an amazing father, but they started bickering. A few fights here and there led to nights where they would verbally fight all night long, sometimes leading their fights into the middle of the day.

After years of that, it led to them separating four years ago and eventually to their divorce three years ago. Neither of the children took it well. They both really loved their dad. And rightfully so. Joel was a good father. There was something about Joel that they were drawn to. She was with them all the time growing up and Joel was always the parent that was gone long nights and was working really hard, so he was the parent they wanted the attention of the most. And when he was home? He gave it to them. So it was safe to say they mostly blamed her for the divorce. They tried to hide it more now, but when the separation first happened neither Elizabeth nor Peter were happy with her. It made her happy that after this long, there were no more fights and even though there was an occasional comment made here or there, they seemed to be happy with her.

Joel and Y/N had shared custody of the children. Which meant they were pretty open with things. They were supposed to be with her half the month and with him half the other, but they never stopped the children from seeing them if they wanted. Joel had moved back into his parents’ old home with Tommy which was only a few blocks away so they still spent a lot of time together.

Honestly? Y/N never really got over the divorce. Her feelings for Joel were just as strong as the day she met him. Joel’s family had moved to town when she was young and she immediately had a crush on him. They were just kids then though.

Their divorce was hard on her. It wasn’t like anyone cheated. It was just the tension of it all. Joel had become cold. He wasn’t a very affectionate lover. And it was always inherently clear how unhappy he was when he was married to her. Being married became lonely. Which was vastly different from how Joel was when they were younger. Joel was very affectionate in the beginning. Very loving. Now? They got along as much as they could for the children. Which meant she had to push down a lot of her feelings. But it was worth it for the children to be happy and grow up in a stable environment.

“I know, I’m not supposed to talk about the divorce,” Peter finally spoke up after the uncomfortable silence flooded the room with the three of them still decorating the cookies while Joel stayed in the back of the kitchen. “I just really miss how things used to be. That’s all.”

“I do too,” Elizabeth agreed quietly, but Y/N didn’t know what to say so she kept her mouth shut. Of course she missed the way things used to be.

“I can help decorate,” Joel offered, setting his glass of milk down on the counter. Moving over toward the gingerbread cookies, he pulled one of them off the rack and set up his area to start decorating. “We always used to decorate cookies as ourselves every year. So why not do that again?”

“This could take a while,” Y/N suggested, but Joel look to her with his dark eyes and shrugged. “Tess won’t get mad that you are here?”

“They aren’t together anymore,” Elizabeth was quick to answer and it had a rush of color flushing into Joel’s face. When his eyes connected with Elizabeth’s she shrugged her shoulders dramatically just like Peter had done earlier. “Well, you aren’t.”

“How long has that been?” Y/N looked to Joel noticing that he got uncomfortable when they brought up his ex-girlfriend. Tess and Joel had started dating a few months after their divorce finalized, so she was surprised to hear they weren’t together. Joel bobbed his head about with Peter adjusting his spot at the counter to move in next to his father to start decorating his gingerbread cookie.

“A while,” Joel grumbled under his breath, bringing his fingers up to suck off the icing that was at the tips of them. It had his dimples showing and he could see that Y/N was staring at him. “I don’t really pay attention to time with how busy I’ve been with work.”

“Months,” Elizabeth spoke again for her father keeping her focus on the cookies that were there.

“I’m glad you know more about my dating life,” Joel rumbled reaching for one of the sugar cookies to shove another one into his mouth.

“I just pay attention,” Elizabeth pointed out realizing that she was making her father uncomfortable talking about Tess. “When the two of you were together, she was always texting me. Making plans with Peter and me. Since you two broke up? I haven’t heard from her.”

“I thought you liked Tess,” Y/N recalled what the children had told her when she talked about the woman that Joel had been with.

“We did,” Peter replied back, his voice now muffled since he copied his father again in grabbing another cookie.

“It’s just strange that she drops us the moment they break up. You work so hard to build this relationship with us because you’re dating our father and then you cut us off completely when the two of you break up?” Elizabeth legitimately seemed bothered by the fact that Tess stopped interacting with them. “It’s messed up.”

“So how about these cookies? Huh?” Joel tried to come up with a distraction, going to reach for another one, but Y/N reached out to place her hand over his wrist to stop him. Instead of listening to her urgings, Joel grabbed one of the snowman cookies and bit off the head of it. “They taste really good.”

“I wouldn’t know. I was trying to finish helping mom decorate them first,” Elizabeth smirked back at her father, giving him a shake of her head. He finished off the cookie before going back to decorating. When they finished off the sugar cookies, the girls went to decorating their gingerbread women. Joel had moved on to working on other cookies, but Peter was pretty dedicated to making his gingerbread man perfect. By the time they were done, Peter was still working on that single cookie. “What’s taking you so long Peter?”

“You’re being lazy,” Joel moved in behind Peter to pick him up in his arms, pulling him away from the counter. The two of them wrestled while their laughter filled the kitchen. Finally, Y/N grabbed herself one of the finished sugar cookies that she had made while watching the two of them. “Making the three of us do all the work.”

“I just wanted mine to be good,” Peter jumped on Joel’s back, hooking his arms around Joel’s shoulders. It had Elizabeth rolling her eyes and grabbing a cookie with her mother. “You see what I mean? We shouldn’t have to go be with just dad and uncle Tommy. We should be together. Dad can just grab his stuff. Come over and we can pretend like we’re a family again. The four of us have the most fun when we’re all together.”

“Are we going to keep the gingerbread family like we did when we were younger?” Elizabeth looked to Y/N for confirmation. Nodding, she reached for a serving platter to first put down Joel’s cookie which he decorated in a green plaid shirt, work boots and a beard with dark hair. On his cookie, he gave himself a Santa hat. Then she set Elizabeth’s down next to Joel’s. Elizabeth had decorated hers in a softball outfit which made sense since Elizabeth was on her softball team and loved it. Reaching for Peter’s cookie, she could see that he decorated what she assumed to be an ugly Christmas sweater for his cookie and then Y/N placed her cookie at the far end. It was just a generic gingerbread woman with her hair color. Maybe hers was the saddest of the whole crew since it had the least amount of personality of the four. “You know your cookie is supposed to go next to dad’s.”

Elizabeth moved in beside Y/N to move the cookies together. It had a warmth flooding Y/N’s body when she sighed. In the past they would dry out the cookies by leaving them out before displaying them. Elizabeth seemed proud of herself when Joel finally let out a long exhale.

“Your Uncle Tommy has a big night planned of movie watching, so we better get ready to go,” Joel announced moving for his milk to finish it off. Setting the glass in the sink made Y/N’s head lower as Joel pointed upstairs. “Better go get packed buddy. You too Ellie.”

“Yes dad,” Elizabeth sighed knowing that she wanted to correct her father again, but instead she just accepted that he was still going to call her the lifelong nickname that he gave her.

It was almost as if their children were sulking as they dragged their feet out of the kitchen to head upstairs to grab their belongings to go be with their father. Once they were gone, Joel stepped in beside her and folded his arms in front of his chest. “It’s like Christmas brings out the inner child in them. Instead of being our teenagers full of teenage angst, they become young again. I like it.”

“They still are young,” she reminded Joel with a playful nudge before heading back for a container. “I’ll pack you some cookies for home.”

“And they will likely be all gone by tonight,” Joel declared with a snicker, placing his hand in over the soft part of his abdomen. It had her rolling her eyes and shaking her head while she gathered the cookies. “I always loved when you did the Christmas baking. All the cookies, cupcakes, pies…”

“You’re always welcome to take what you want,” she packed one container of sugar cookies and then moved to the gingerbread cookies to pack another. “So…who broke things off between you and Tess?”

“Uh…” Joel inhaled sharply, leaning against the counter again. Curling his fingers around the countertop, he shrugged his shoulders and didn’t seem to have a good response. “It was a little bit of both, I guess.”

Neither one of them spoke after that. It was awkward talking to Joel about his girlfriend. Tess was a very blunt person. It didn’t mean that Y/N didn’t like her. She did her best to like Tess, but Tess was very domineering. Which was hard since her and Joel shared children together.

“So…” Joel started, his thick fingers brushing through his hair drawing attention to his curls at the back of his neck. “What are you going to be doing while they are with me?”

“Tomorrow morning I’m putting decorations up around town. Helping out,” she explained, knowing that she needed things to do in order to keep herself distracted. It had Joel’s eyebrows bouncing up, his hands settling at his hips while he stared out at her.

“That sounds like you,” Joel commented, biting at his bottom lip having a hard time thinking of something else to say to her.

“You’re welcome to join if you want,” she offered and Joel let out a sarcastic laugh. When they were together she would always drag him along with her to do that so they had things they did together. Toward the end? Joel complained constantly and made it clear he hated it. “I’m just saying. Tommy is coming to help.”

“Well, good for Tommy,” Joel retorted with a long sigh, folding his arms in front of his chest when she shifted back and forth on her feet. “Unfortunately, I have to turn you down. I made an appointment with the children to go get photos with Santa. I know they are older now, but they seem to get a bigger kick out of it now than they did as children. It’s less scary and more so funny. I think Ellie calls it cringe, yet they still find it super funny.”

“Oh,” her face went hot when she thought about the idea of them getting photos. That was something she started as a tradition. One she was no longer included in. “That’s nice.”

“After that, I promised to take them shopping for their gifts,” Joel looked toward the exit of the kitchen toward the stairs. “And mine.”

“Last minute shopping. Totally still you,” she couldn’t help but throw that out at him since he used a similar line earlier. It had Joel smirking, his dimples showing when he shook his head.

“I guess I should go help them,” Joel pointed toward the stairs, backstepping toward the exit of the kitchen. “Make sure little man doesn’t forget anything.”

“I’ll clean up,” she barely had time to get that out before Joel was already making his way out of the kitchen.

Maybe that was too quick of a leave. It had Joel stopping at the bottom of the stairs to steal a quick look back at Y/N. Her head was tipped down and Joel felt tension in his body. Until that moment? She had actually looked happy. But now that she was alone in the kitchen to herself, she looked sad.

Considering his next move, Joel grasped tightly onto the railing of the stairway. Part of him thought he should go help her clean up. But he was never very good at that in the first place. It was one thing they used to bicker about when they were together. Joel always left dishes in the sink and his clothes all over the place. Which meant she was picking up after him all the time. They had more fights about it than he cared to admit.

Instead of helping, he let the other part of him win out and he started heading up the stairs. It was strange how even though he had been gone from the house four years, how much everything still felt like home. Y/N still decorated the same way. Just added a few more things here and there. Lights were wrapped around the railing leading up the stairs brightening the stairway. The photos were still up the way they were when they were together. With a few school photos added to the walls. The only ones that were down were the ones of their wedding or from when they were younger taking trips together.

The first bedroom on the right was Peter’s and he could hear the extensive shuffling. Standing in the doorway, Joel outstretched his arms and rest them against the doorframe, “You need help there kid?”

“No, I got it,” Peter insisted shoving a few of his clothes into his bag messily. “Thanks though dad.”

“I’ll check on your sister,” Joel pointed back toward Elizabeth’s room and Peter waved his hand about. Going to move for Elizabeth’s room, Joel backstepped when he saw the door to the room he used to share with Y/N was open. Looking to the stairs, Joel swallowed down hard and moved quietly into the bedroom. Even that didn’t look any different. The only difference is that his things weren’t thrown all over the place. His exercise equipment was gone along with his dresser. Instead there was a small sitting area there.

On the center of the bed was a robe that Joel assumed Y/N had been wearing earlier in the day. Reaching out, he caressed his fingers over the soft material before bringing it up to his nose to smell it. The scent of her perfume lingered over it and it made Joel smile. That was something he always loved. Her perfume. It had been a while since he had been close enough to her to actually smell it.

Setting the robe back on the bed, Joel looked to her dresser to see that two of the photos she had taken down that were originally in the hallway were now sitting on top of it. Stepping in closer to the dresser, Joel bit at his cheek when he saw the first one was their wedding photo. It was the two of them together with Elizabeth dressed in her flower girl outfit. Because they were just kids themselves, they had a backyard wedding at his parents’ home, but they were happy enough at that time. They had each other and that was enough.

Placing that photo back, Joel reached for the photo of them on their last anniversary that they shared. Tommy had made them reservations that Tommy was really proud of at an expensive local restaurant. It was something that Tommy had saved up for as a thank you to them for all they did for him growing up. It was completely out of Joel’s scene. All throughout dinner he felt awkward. It was one of those places that had multiple courses already chosen for you. Since Tommy pre-paid for it, Joel forced himself through it, but he hated it. And he really let Y/N know how much he hated it. Having to dress up nice was not something that Joel enjoyed. He was uncomfortable the whole time. When they got home, Tommy had taken the photo of them. It was Joel sitting in a chair with Y/N in his lap while Joel was holding onto the gift she had gotten him. Y/N got him a really nice acoustic guitar that he had told her he wanted when they first started dating. It was something he would go to the store and play all the time.  It was something she was really proud of. In the photo she looked really happy. And at that moment? She was.

It was after Tommy left when their fighting started again. Instead of appreciating the guitar that she got him, he told her to return it since it was stupid to waste the money. Especially since in the time that they had been together he had learned how to do wood carvings and he knew how to make acoustic guitars himself. Back then? He didn’t understand the meaning behind the gesture. He just saw it as a waste of money. Especially since he lost out on his dreams of actually becoming a singer.

They also fought over the fact he bought her nothing other than flowers. Grand gestures were something that Y/N was big on. Even when they didn’t have money, she always tried to do things special. That anniversary, he just bought her flowers and gave her them when he got home from work. She didn’t complain, he just could see that she was disappointed. Which led to them fighting about her needing to be honest with him about things. That night they didn’t get intimate together. Not once. It ended with him sleeping on the floor in Elizabeth’s room.

The guitar put a big wedge between them because she told him if he hated the guitar he could return it to get the money back. Not wanting to look bad because it was a small town they lived in, Joel just let it sit and collect dust. Until they got separated and he took it with him. Now he played it occasionally and realized why she was upset because it was actually a really romantic gift.

It surprised him that she kept that photo considering how bad that night went. Setting the photo back where it was, Joel moved back over to the bed. Dropping back onto it had him staring up at the ceiling feeling an ache at his chest. Crawling over to the side of the bed that was his, Joel reached for her pillow and wrapped it up in his arms. Burying his face against it, he closed his eyes and realized how much more comfortable this whole set up actually felt than it did back at his place with Tommy.

After a few minutes, he forced himself to get up since he realized that it was probably creepy what he was doing. This wasn’t his house anymore. It was just a vague memory of how things used to be. That’s it.

Leaving the room, he headed over to Elizabeth’s room to see that she was sitting at her desk doing something on her laptop and he smirked. Leaning against the doorframe, he tipped his head to the side and cleared his throat causing her to jump.

“Getting in trouble?” Joel watched her shake her head when she showed him that she was writing her best friend in a chat. Taking a quick look, he sighed and moved over to her dresser to grab the softball that was there. Dropping back on her bed, he started throwing the ball up in the air catching it repeatedly.

“You know, Peter’s not wrong. Things were better when it was the four of us,” Elizabeth stressed hearing her father sigh loudly and she shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t see what the problem is. You’re not with Tess anymore. So why not spend time with mom? She’s hot, right?”

“What?” Joel chuckled at his daughter saying that about her mother.

“Listen, I’ve seen the moms at my school. I know mom is a catch,” she suggested to Joel hearing him laugh before going back to throwing the ball. “Why don’t you want to spend time with the four of us?”

“Hey! I didn’t see your mom jumping at the idea when Peter was talking about it,” Joel fumbled the ball, letting out a groan when it rolled across the floor. Pressing up onto his shoulder, Joel scoffed out when his eyes fell upon one of the posters that she had hanging up. It was one that was new and it made him roll his eyes. “I still can’t believe you’ve had a crush on that man since you were fourteen.”

“Everyone has celebrity crushes dad,” she looked back over her shoulder at the poster that he dramatically groaned over. Giving her father her attention back, she saw him throw his head back into the pillows.

“Sure. But most girls your age have crushes on twinks from a boy band,” Joel declared hearing his daughter laugh at the description of the kind of boys that he thought she would like. “Instead, you like a professional baseball player that’s my age. Do you know how creepy that is?”

“Most women here have a crush on Negan Smith,” she stood up from her chair to head over to point at the poster that was on the back of her door. “He’s the hometown hero. Rookie of the year when he started. One of the greatest baseball players of our time.”

“Do you know how old you were when he won rookie of the year?” Joel’s eyebrow arched up in curiosity, dramatically turning his head to stare out at her. It had her cheeks flushing over with red and he let out a hesitant laugh. “I think I need to stress here that he’s my age.”

“You were young when you had me,” she pointed out, heading over to the edge of her bed to sit down with him.

“Not that young,” Joel countered finding it creepy that his daughter’s celebrity crush was Negan Smith who was probably the most popular player for their state’s professional baseball team. “What about that boyband kid that you liked when you were eight?”

Tipping his head back, Joel eyed over the magazine cutouts that she had plastered over her ceiling and he felt his heart skip a beat when his eyes fell onto one of the photos. Hopping up onto the bed had her gasping out when he snatched the photo from the collage of photos she had up there.

“The hell is this?” Joel’s dark eyes almost seemed angry when he held the magazine page out in front of her face.

“Uhm? Negan Smith?” Elizabeth flashed him an innocent smile with Joel looking over the photo. “It was a photoshoot he did in order to bring attention to the sexism in sports magazines. It was him making a statement.”

“He’s naked,” Joel sneered, looking over the photo. It had the baseball star holding a baseball glove over his groin and he had a baseball bat thrown over his shoulder. They had covered him in dirt and he had eye black under his eyes. “Why in God’s name do you have this photo over your bed? Why do you have this at all? Does your mother let you put these up here?”

“First of all, he’s not naked. Everything is covered,” she reached for the magazine pull out and he tugged it away from her. “Second, mom doesn’t know that that’s there. She actually kind of gives me my privacy. So, there is that.”

“You’re seventeen,” Joel scoffed looking over the pullout feeling like the room was spinning around him. “This is way too sexual for you. I went to school with this guy. He was one of my best friends. This is another level of creepy.”

“Dad, you’re being a little hypocritical. I know you and mom were having sex at my age. A magazine pull out is not the end of the world. It’s not even porn,” Elizabeth fought back trying to reach for it, but Joel yanked it back away from her again. “I used my babysitting money to buy that dad. It’s a few years old and it’s hard to find.”

“How much did you pay for it?” Joel scoffed seeing the confusion in her eyes. “How much?”

“Like thirty dollars,” she explained and he felt his blood boiling. “What?”

“Thirty dollars for this?” Joel’s eyebrows furrowed and he grunted out looking it over. “Can’t you just find a photo of it on the internet and print it out? Why waste the money?”

“Because it’s authentic and an original. It would probably be worth more too because he just announced that he was retiring because of his most recent injury. Do you remember when that one guy purposely hurt him when we were watching that game?” she brought back a memory of when he was still living here and they’d watch games together. “Well, he came back from that injury, but it still made his leg weak and he hurt it really bad. So bad that he has to retire. He’s only doing one more season. People are going crazy over his stuff,” she reasoned with Joel who reached into his back pocket to pull out his wallet. Pulling out thirty dollars, he tossed it on the bed beside him and rolled up the poster causing her to gasp out. “You’re going to bend it dad!”

“Good. It doesn’t belong in my…” Joel stopped realizing he was about to say it didn’t belong in his house, but this wasn’t his house anymore. “It doesn’t belong in my seventeen-year-old daughter’s bedroom. I paid you back for it. I don’t care if it’s worth a hundred dollars. Spend your money on something better than some naughty ass photo of someone I used to be best friends with.”

“Oh come on, all of that’s bullshit dad,” she bickered with her father, throwing her hands up in the air and he dramatically shrugged his shoulders. “I know you say you two were best friends and I know you were on the same baseball team, but other than that? I think you’re pushing it with the best friend thing. If the two of you were best friends, why have I never met him? Why do I see no photos of the two of you together?”

“Because in our last year of high school we kind of…went different ways,” Joel explained, still clinging onto the magazine pullout that he had stolen from his daughter. “Him, your mother, me and Uncle Tommy were the closest of friends. We were since I moved here. Honestly? I reckon he was probably better friends with your mother. But we all considered each other best friends. We were together all the time. And back then he didn’t have a single tattoo on him.”

Joel reached up to pinch up at the bridge of his nose, “And as far as photos? We probably have loads of them upstairs in the attic. I can prove it right now. I still haven’t cleaned out that thing since we moved in here and I doubt your mother did either because she always asked me to clean things up, but I didn’t.”

“Prove it,” she frowned, folding her arms in front of her chest reminding Joel of what he looked like when he was angry.

Urging her to follow him, Joel set the magazine pullout down on the table that was in the hallway. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Elizabeth was reaching for it and he snapped his fingers at her to get her to stop, “Ellie! Don’t think about it!”

“You are so infuriating sometimes,” Elizabeth frowned realizing that she had officially lost part of her collage. Joel hopped up to pull at the hatch to get it opened and get the stairs down to go into the attic. Motioning her to go up first, Joel knew that if he turned his back on his daughter that she would likely grab what he had set aside. Color rushed into her face, her eyes rolling when she moved up the steps. Joel followed her not far behind. When they got up there, Elizabeth let out a dramatic cough and he huffed. “It’s dusty.”

“It’s not that bad,” Joel suggested taking a look around. A long time ago, Joel started to remodel the attic for Y/N, but he never finished it. Half of it was done and the other half just looked like a normal attic. Moving across the way, Joel cleaned off the bench that was at the far end where the nook he designed was. Holding his hand out, he motioned Elizabeth to take a seat. She eyed it over with disgust before slowly lowering down. “Give me a few minutes.”

“So,” Elizabeth began, her curiosity growing while Joel started going through boxes. “What was he like when he was younger?”

“Arrogant,” Joel stammered, his whole face scrunching up when he thought about Negan. “Everyone loved Negan. We were the two most popular guys in school by our senior year. He played baseball and basketball. I played baseball and football. We had a bit of a feud going on that last year. He was a smartass.”

“But you were friends?” her eyebrow arched in curiosity. Pausing, Joel looked over his shoulder at his daughter. Taking a second to think it over, Joel nodded and cleared his throat. “What did you like about him?”

“He was funny. He could really get under some of the teachers’ skin,” Joel responded, setting aside some of the boxes letting out a sigh when he dug through them. “He was really smart. He could look at a book and just memorize everything. He was a class clown so it always infuriated the teachers when they tried to embarrass him and he would come back with the answer. Negan either had people really loving him or hating him because he was so good at reading people. He could have people eating out of the palm of his hand.”

Smirking, Joel opened one of the boxes to see on top of the box was some photos of him and Elizabeth when she was a baby. Holding out the photos, he saw her smile when she reached for the photos accepting them to look them over.

“Maybe I’ll come over here and finish the attic up for your mom. Clear up some things and go through the photos,” Joel offered appreciating the smile that Elizabeth was giving when she looked at the photos of them together. “It’s been a long time since I had a clean-shaven face.”

“You look so young,” Elizabeth commented holding a photo up of Joel holding Elizabeth on his shoulders at a football game together. “You were such a jock back then.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Joel waved his hand in the air, getting down on the ground to make it easier for him to go through the boxes. After looking through a few boxes, Joel stopped when he found photos of Y/N and him from high school. With a smirk, he grabbed a handful of the photos of them at his prom. Holding them out to Elizabeth, he allowed her to look them over while he dug through the photos. When he realized this was the box that he wanted, he headed over to the bench to sit down beside her. “That was a fun night.”

“Please don’t go into details,” Elizabeth groaned causing Joel to roll his eyes. “I know what happens on prom night.”

“I just mean we had a fun time at prom, then a few of the kids were throwing a party at their parents’ house. It was right off the water, it was awesome,” Joel explained with a long sigh, his eyes narrowing when he cleared his throat. “It was right before your grandparents passed away.”

Elizabeth gave Joel a sideways glance before continuing through the photos, smiling when she saw a photo of a young Joel kissing Y/N on the cheek with her mom laughing, “You two looked so happy together.”

“We were. We were so in love. All that mattered to me back then was her,” Joel admitted, his breathing growing uneven when he thought back to that time. “I just wanted to be with her all the time. I was afraid to let her go. I was supposed to be going off to college and she still had two more years left at school. I was so worried someone else was going to swoop in and take her. I guess the world solved that problem for me though. College was just never meant to happen.”

“You still could have gone,” she thought aloud and it had Joel taking a moment to break from looking at the photos to gaze out at her. “You could have. You had a full ride. You could have made it work. Mom eventually went to college.”

“I couldn’t. I had to take care of Uncle Tommy or else he would have been put into the system. And then your mom got pregnant with you,” Joel recalled his younger years, shifting uneasily knowing that Y/N had been pregnant at seventeen which was how old Elizabeth was now. “I couldn’t do that to Tommy. And I couldn’t do that to you and your mom.”

It looked like Elizabeth wanted to say something, but she didn’t. She just went back to looking at the photos. Seeing a photo of Negan training with him when they were on the baseball team, he handed it over to Elizabeth and she snickered.

“I know the two of you were on the team together dad. I’ve seen the team photo in the hallways of the high school,” she reminded her father hearing Joel grunt. “That doesn’t mean you were best friends. He looks so different without the facial hair.”

“Not as big of a babe,” Joel mocked the way a teenage girl would talk. It had her reaching out to hit him in the chest and he chuckled. “That was before he got that scar on his face over his eyebrow.”

“You know how he got that scar, right?” Elizabeth was eager to tell the story, but Joel hushed her.

“Everyone knows that story. He told it all the time when he first started becoming popular,” Joel pointed out feeling a bit of jealousy at how much this town loved Negan Smith. Stopping on one of the photos, he tossed it to Elizabeth and heard the surprised sound that followed. It was a photo of him, Negan and Y/N sitting on the couch that was in his parents’ basement. A young Tommy was laid out across their lap and they were all laughing. “Told you. That’s at your grandparents’ home.”

Noticing that all the photos were starting to include Negan, Joel handed piles of photos to her and could see the awe that came from her looking at the photos, “See. I’m not a liar. I’ve always been a very honest person.”

“Holy shit,” she held up a photo of Joel and Negan together. Negan had his arm wrapped around Joel’s shoulders. Negan was curling his lip up in a ridiculous pose with Joel wearing a backwards baseball cap. Elizabeth clung to the photo before reaching for the next. It was a photo of Y/N between both Joel and Negan. Both of them were kissing her cheek and it had Elizabeth laughing. “So many people would be jealous of mom with this one.”

“Yeah, I know. I was really cute,” Joel knew that Elizabeth was talking about Negan, but he was being a smart ass. Elizabeth rolled her eyes before continuing through the photos. There were a lot of photos of Y/N and Negan which had Elizabeth shocked. There was an extremely young photo of Negan and Y/N that was in that box leaving Joel to shrug when Elizabeth held it up. “I told you those two were closer. Negan was my age, but they knew each other pretty much her whole life. They were neighbors. Together all the time.”

“Why doesn’t mom talk about him?” Elizabeth stammered, stopping on a photo of her mom sitting on Negan’s lap with her arms wrapped around his shoulders.

“Uhm,” Joel considered what to say next before clearing his throat. “Because when he stopped talking to me, he stopped talking to her. The woman he ended up getting married to showed up at the school the last year. Really pretty girl. Negan was hooked on her. Your mother wanted him to be your godfather…”

“No shit,” she gasped, clinging to the photo of Negan with her mother. “What the hell happened? Could you imagine if Negan Smith was my godfather?”

“He just stopped interacting with the two of us all together. Your mother tried to reach out to him multiple times, but then she just stopped trying,” Joel cleared his throat, rubbing at the side of his face before sighing loudly. “I think it hurt too much, so she just wrote him off. Didn’t want to think about it since the two of them were so close.”

“How did I never know this?” Elizabeth seemed upset that this was a part of her parents’ lives that she didn’t know. “So you just were friends with Negan Smith?”

“Yeah. When your Uncle Tommy and I moved to town, there was this boy that kept picking on your Uncle Tommy. All the time. He was smaller for his age. It was during the summer and this boy would knock him off his bike. Push him down. Do what bullies do. One day, I was outside and I saw this boy hit your Uncle Tommy. Your mother and Negan were outside playing hockey. We all saw it happen. I was heading over to whoop the bully’s ass, but she beat me to it. Hit the boy with the hockey stick that she had. Then she beat his ass,” Joel explained with a laugh mimicking a few punches drawing Elizabeth to laugh. “She kicked that boy’s ass so bad that he refused to tell his parents. He didn’t want the whole school knowing that he had his ass kicked by a girl. But yeah, you’re mother had a crush on me from the first moment I met her, but I’m pretty sure that day is the day she fell in love with me. That was the day we first started hanging out.”

“She fell in love with you? Not the other way around?” she was surprised to hear that and Joel tipped his head from side to side. “How couldn’t you fall in love with her after that?”

“She kind of scared the shit out of me, but in a good way,” Joel claimed, his hand placing in over the center of his chest. “So yes. For your mother it was love at first sight. For me? It took until I was about seventeen.”

“What are you two doing up here?” a voice made them both jump and they looked to the stairs to see that Y/N was moving into the attic.

“Your daughter has like the biggest crush ever on Negan Smith,” Joel once again teased his daughter, talking in a stereotypical way that had her pushing into Joel’s chest. A loud laugh fell from his throat when he pointed toward the photos. “She didn’t believe that we were best friends back in the day. So I had to prove it.”

“Why’d you never tell me?” Elizabeth was curious when Y/N moved forward to look at the photo that Elizabeth had of her with Negan and Joel kissing her cheeks. “I’ve had the biggest crush on him forever and you never said anything.” 

“It was a long time ago,” she reasoned, shrugging her shoulders as Joel started pulling himself up from the bench that he was seated on with Elizabeth. Talking about Negan didn’t seem to appeal much to her when she waved her hand about. “I have all the cookies packed up and I made a pie the other day that I’m sending with you.”

“How I remained skinny when we were together blows my mind. I like your food way too much,” Joel reached down to pat his stomach realizing now that he was older, it was harder to stay in shape for him. “Come on Ellie. We have to get home. Uncle Tommy is probably waiting.”

Elizabeth didn’t really want to, but she accepted her father’s hand when he helped her up. They moved down the stairs and onto the second level. Joel had Elizabeth going back to her room for her stuff before reaching for the poster he snatched from Elizabeth’s room. Handing it out to Y/N had her looking down and unrolling the photo. Once she realized what it was, her eyes grew wide.

“I guess her and her mother have the same type,” Joel sneered and it had Y/N lifting her eyes up at Joel slowly. “That was on her wall. Our daughter should never have anything like that on her wall. Maybe pay a little more attention to the things that she is getting her hands on.”

“Yes sir,” Y/N almost seemed offended when she rolled the photo back up and felt a warmth flooding into her face. The look that Joel gave her almost looked angry, but she couldn’t say anything else because the two children were walking out with their bags.

Seeing them out to say her goodbyes, Y/N cleaned things up before heading back upstairs. Noticing that the stairs were still pulled out for the attic, Y/N went to close them up before thinking things over. Going up into the attic, she headed over toward the box of photos. Lowering down on the bench that Joel and Elizabeth were on earlier. Pushing through the photos, there was a sense of sadness that ate her up inside seeing some of her photos of when she was pregnant with Elizabeth. Joel was so loving and sweet back then. And he looked so happy. Stopping on a photo had her heart racing. In that pile was a photo of a much younger version of her and Negan kissing. Clearing her throat, she pushed the photo into her back pocket. That was the last thing her daughter should be seeing and she knew that.

Closing up the attic, she headed to bed and pulled out the photo she snatched along with the magazine pull out that Joel had given her. Taking a look at it, she shook her head and tossed both of them into the top drawer of her dresser. For so long Y/N had pushed away her past. It almost felt like she had forgotten her past. Right now, she was just living and working to get through every day. And that was enough.

----

Tags: @chainsawsangel @fancypeacepersona @violent-darkness @negansbestie @elegantfanficluv

@sanctuaryforthelost

[panic-in-the-multiverse]

Reunion

Pairings: Daryl Dixon x teen!reader, Tyreese Williams x teen!reader, Carol Peletier x teen!reader, Judith Grimes x teen!reader (all platonic obviously)

Requested by Anonymous: when the prison fell you and Daryl got separated, this is how you meet up, based on this request

Warnings: mention of blood, fighting, mention killing walkers/zombies, killing people, Daryl hug (yes that’s a warning), knives, guns, mention of killing kids, Terminus, hopefully if you read this you’ve seen the episode and knows what it includes, but ya know typical twd stuff.

A/N did I accidentally write this way longer than I intended yes, yes, I did, now don’t get me wrong the moment where Tyreese defends Judith is iconic but for the sake of this fic I changed it up, kinda wanna make another part

For you who wants to know the episode is season 5 episode 1

Anyway I hope you enjoy this <3

Judith giggled happily in your arms as you walked on the edge of the railway. You could’ve once imagined all kinds of trains going up and down the tracks as they blew past the trees, but now you couldn’t actually remember much about trains, you had the idea of them but not much details (and if a train were to come right now that would’ve been a miracle).

Tyreese walked a few steps behind you, with Carol in the front, as she led your group of four forward. She came to a stop when a sign that states “TERMINUS” showed up once more. It was your headed path, the sanctuary called Terminus. You personally didn’t trust it, not after the Governor, but you had to find Daryl and the rest of the group. You knew that if any of them were still alive they would’ve gone to Terminus after finding the railway. Which all of them had probably done. Along with finding Daryl you also had to get Tyreese and Judith to safety. Tyreese wasn’t fit to live on the road at the moment, he refused to kill anything that came your way leaving you and Carol to kill stray walkers, or animals for food. Judith, well, she was a baby and sometimes could be screaming all day, she was mostly quiet but the times she did cry was the times walkers got attracted. A baby was no way near fit to be on the road but here you were all of you somehow still alive (except for Lizzie and Mika Samuels, but there was no loss for you over Lizzie that’s for sure).

“We’re close” Carol stated as she saw the sign. “I’m gonna get you all there, make sure you’re safe, but I’m not gonna stay” She saw your face morph into disappointment as you nodded your head, a sad smile on your face. You’d missed her while she was gone and now she would be leaving again, and you didn’t like it, not one bit and you knew Daryl would be sad over it too which didn’t help the matter.

As you heard the rustle of leaves behind you in the forest, you all turned around to see two walkers stalk forward in your direction. Tyreese motioned with his hands to take Judith from you. Judith was carefully switched over to Tyreese and both you and Carol went forward to the walkers. Both of you killed them quickly only to notice the herd that was about to come out of the forest. Carol whispered to Tyreese that more were coming, and so all of you went into the opposite side of the railway. You hid in the forest until the walkers got distracted by shots firing not too far away from all of you.

Tyreese looked worriedly at you as he started to talk. “That gunfire it could’ve been from Terminus”

“Someone was attacking them, or they were attacking someone” Carol responded

“Do we want to find out?”

This time you involved yourself in the conversation, as you believed that you did indeed need to find out. “Yeah, we need to find out, If the others are there they might need help”

With that, and Carol's instruction of walking another track that would get you there as well you all started to walk once more, this time in need to find out the truth.

Your next stop had been outside a small worn out cabin, but it wasn’t the cabin that got your attention. What got your solely attention as you hid in the forest with your companions was the man that talked in a walkie-talkie. He was putting up a bunch of fireworks, no doubt to lead the herd of walkers away from Terminus. You could faintly hear him mention a woman with a sword, and you stopped Carol from going forward. As you continued to listen you heard him mention a kid with a hat and that was all you needed to go on. You didn’t think there were that many women with a sword and kid with a hat together nearby at the same time, so it didn’t take much to know that they were talking about Michonne and Carl. Nor did it take long to realize they had done something to your group, thereby also Daryl. Especially when he mentioned bleeding the kid out.

Carol slowly started to creep up behind the man and you followed not far behind. Tyreese more hesitant but still following. She put her gun toward his head, the young man froze and put his hands up still holding the two way radio. “Keep your finger off the button and drop it”

“Listen, ya’ll don’t have to do this. Whatever you want, we got a place where everyone’s welcome”

“Shut up man” it was what all three of you were thinking but Tyreese was the one to say it.

“Okay”

“We’re friends of the chick with the sword and the kid in the hat” Carol pressed the gun against his head forward, making the man lean forward as the gun touched his head.

It didn’t take long for you and Carol to tie him up and drag him (not so carefully) into the cabin leaning him against one of the walls. Throughout the whole ordeal the man continued to tell the three of you that you didn’t have to do this, that you could all come up with a deal, but he had no luck there.

As Carol made herself ready to scout Terminus out to see what was happening Tyreese continued to hold Judith in a protective embrace. You however had been asking the man questions, finding out that ever since the first questions he had been lying. He told you he only had Carl and Michonne, that they had both attacked them out of nowhere, that they were just protecting themselves. But none of you believed him. Not with the things you heard him talk about before you confronted him.

You would of followed Carol to Terminus had it not been for your will to protect Judith and Tyreese. As much as you loved Tyreese he wasn’t in his right mind. So you stayed to help if anything bad were to happen, to walkers coming your way or your prisoner getting free somehow, it didn’t matter you were there to protect your family. You only hoped Carol wouldn’t need any help.

Talking about your prisoner he was even more shatty when Carol left. Apparently a teenager, a baby and a man who he could clearly see wasn’t going to kill him was no threat to him. It was his undoing in the end. He underestimated you both and it showed in the way he talked to you and Tyreese as you sat by Judith, who’d you made a makeshift bed to.

“She got a name?… Hey, she got a name?”

“No” you answered at the same time Tyreese answered “Judith” you glared at Tyreese as he told the stranger her name, you didn’t want to give him any information, you never knew if it would backfire.

“She your daughter or something?”

“She’s a friend”

“Huh, I don’t have any friends… I mean I know people. They’re just assholes I stay alive with. The other one your friend, the woman” the younger man nodded towards the door that was now closed. Tyreese slowly looked away at the comment being conflicted about his answer. So instead you answered.

“Yes”

The man nodded and his voice that had now started to annoy you filled the room once more. “I used to have them… used to watch football on Sundays. Went to church” he let out a small laugh as if the thought of it was unbelievable. “I know, I did, but I can’t picture it anymore… it’s funny how you don’t even notice the time go by, horrible shit just stacks up day after day, you get used to it”

Tyreese turned his attention towards the man and spoke with distaste laced in his voice. “I haven’t gotten used to it”

"Of course you haven’t, you’re the kind of guy who saves babies, it’s kinda like saving an anchor, when you’re stuck on a boat-“ you had by know decided to drown out his voice as he tried to make justiciable to let him go.

Your thoughts got filled with Daryl like they had for the most time since the prison fell. You missed him. He always looked out for you. Ever since you met you were drawn to each other. Daryl used to pretend he hated you, especially when Merle was around he couldn’t have his brother think he was soft. However everyone knew he had always secretly looked out for you ever since he met you he’d felt the need to protect you. It came to the point that whenever you wanted to go on a run to get new supplies or do anything really you’d always ask Daryl. You had never spoken about it to each other but there was a silent agreement between everyone even you and Daryl that you were his kid and he your father. It might not be by blood but it was how it had come to be. Everytime something happened to you if you got hurt or if you were sad they’d always notify Daryl, but most of the time he already knew and would be with you to try and cheer you up in his own moody way. When you’d been out on the road before you found the prison you’d always sleep next to each other making sure the other one was safe. Even in the prison your cells were next to each other. He always looked out for you. He taught you how to hunt, he taught you how to use his crossbow, and to fight people to be able to protect yourself. Like Judith was “little asskicker”, you were the “big asskicker”. You couldn’t help but to miss him and the thought of him being hurt from the people in Terminus made your stomach hurt. You didn’t really want to voice your thoughts but you needed the reassurance and Tyreese was the only one who knew who Daryl was and could give reassurance. So against the warnings your mind gave you, you voiced your concerns.

“Do you think Daryl’s okay?” Your voice came out quieter than you expected as your mind filled with more scenarios in which Daryl had gotten hurt in.

Tyreese turned from Judith to look at you. He tried to give a reassuring look on his face as he answered. “I’m sure he’s fine Y/N”

”So Daryl’s your dad, maybe boyfriend” he continued to gues what Daryl was as you made no indication of actually giving anything away to him. After a while he stopped, he wouldn’t get anywhere with you, but he was still confident that if he talked enough to Tyreese would let him go.

“See, you’re a good guy, saving babies and teenagers.

“You have no idea about the things I’ve done”

“You’re a good guy, that’s why you gonna die today, it’s why the baby is going to die, why the Y/N is going to die” both you and Tyreese stood up taking an intimidating step towards the man, your knife pointed at him. “Or… you can get in that car, get out of here, keep on being lucky.”

“You think you’re gonna kill me?”

The man turned his sole attention to Tyreese as he answered him. “Why haven’t you killed me? How does having me alive help you? Why the hell are you even talking to me? Take the kids, take the car and go, I don’t want to do this today”

“For your information we could always use you to get more information or w e could kill you know, like you said we have-“ you got cut off by an explosion going off. Tyreese rushed to the window to see what was happening and saw the smoke over the forest.

“Is that Terminus?” The man moved forward as if trying to see out through the window but he had no luck in that department as he slouched back towards the wall.

“Yeah, probably”

“Maybe you’re gonna win this, maybe your friend, I mean maybe that woman just got capped, maybe I’m gonna be the one who gets capped when she comes back”

“Nobody’s got to die today”

“Man if you believe that… the it’s definitely gonna be you and the kids, even if the place is burning to the ground”

“Man maybe you can shut up and stop talking before I kill you myself” the man took his eyes of Tyreese to look at you as you had your knife pointed at him an annoyed look on your face. He didn’t believe for a moment that a teenager would be able to kill him, nor win in a fight against him. He had a way to high ego to think that you would be able to do any harm to him, he underestimated both you and Tyreese and when he heard as well as saw Tyreese look out at the walkers coming toward the cabin he moved quickly and soon enough his hands went to hold Judith in a hold that would be easy to break her neck.

He told you both to drop your weapons and you both did so not wanting him to hurt Judith. As he saw the walkers claw at the windows he looked towards Tyreese telling him to go outside. As Tyreese went outside he went over to you and bound your hands together with some spare rope just like you had done to him earlier. He made sure the knot would hold before he went I’ve r towards the wallow-talkie and tried to connect to the woman (apparently named Cynthia) on the other side.

While he did all that you tried to desperately tie up the knot that held the rope around your wrist together. Right as you were able to get rid of the rope around your wrist (thankful Daryl taught you how to do it) the noise from outside stopped. It became deathly quiet and the man looked towards were the last pounding against the walls had been. He took out his knife and was about to kill Judith when you quietly and quickly grabbed the knife that was laying right were you left it beside you on the floor and you ran over to the man. You saw red as you knocked him over, he had threatened to kill Judith and Tyreese. Threatened your sister and one of your closest friends. You knocked him towards the floor and your hand went into the air as you threw it down onto him repeatedly stabbing the knife in your hand into him. even after he was clearly dead.

Tyreese had to carefully walk over to you as he took the knife away from you. He told you that the man couldn’t hurt them anymore nor the walkers, everything would be okay. You appreciated his comfort as you hyperventilated for a few minutes over the fact that you’d just killed a human. You’d killed walkers before but never a human being. In your mind it was justified as he was about to kill all of you anyway, but you still felt like you’d lost something inside of you.

It was a while later when you glanced out of the window and saw Carol as she walked towards the cabin, Rick not that far behind. You broke out in a relieve laugh as a smile spread briefly over you lips, this made Tyreese glance out towards where you were looking. You booth scurried to get everything as you both wanted to leave the cabin not being comfortable to stay inside any longer than you needed to.

As both you and Tyreese stepped out of the barn you glanced at the people led by Carol. Your eyes scanned the crowd looking for one person in particular.

Daryl stared at you in disbelief he couldn’t believe you were actually alive, he’d seen you get shot, and without medical attention he guessed you’d died. He hadn’t wanted to keep hoping in case he would someday find your corpse rotting away (either as a walker or actually dead).

Daryl took in your bloodied state, you’d no doubt had to fight. Dirt and blood covered most of your clothes, and your face had a few cuts covered in dried blood. Your once white shirt was miss colored and your jeans had been ripped in some places, your jacket had blood stains all over it. Daryl could only guess what you’d gone through to end up looking like that (he didn’t even look that bad). He didn’t like all the blood covering you, he didn’t like not knowing what had happened, he didn’t like being away from you, he needed to protect you, he’d lost Beth to a couple of strangers, he wouldn’t lose you too.

When your eyes finally found Daryl, you had a soft smile on your face as you saw him visibly relax at your eye contact. While Rick and Carl ran towards Judith in Tyreese’s arms, Daryl stumbled forward towards you, dropping his crossbow to the ground. You met him halfway and he engelfulled you in a tight hug. You’d never know nor would anyone else but Daryl let a few tears fall in relief as he hugged you tightly knowing you were still alive, actually alive. As he felt you wrap your arms around him he felt you hug him just as tight, the comforting sensation you both brought each other was all you needed to ground each other and know that either of you were dreaming, this was real and both of you were okay.

As Daryl heard you sniffle he realized you were crying and he hugged you even tighter, taking one hand to your head and petting it softly — not knowing fully how to comfort someone, even now, having comforted you all those times before he still was unsure if he did it right. However he did know that you were crying from relief, because he did the same thing. You had your father back and he had his kid back and knowing that, you both knew that everything would be okay in the end. You were yet to be bested by someone when together, even when apart you always won, always found your way to back to each other. You would beat this world together and that was all that you needed to know, and the fact that neither of you were planning on leaving soon.

[indigoraysoflight]

The flawed perfection of Carol Peletier

 "I'll show you what a woman can do." - Artemisia Gentileschi

The Mona Lisa is one of the most well-known paintings of all time. Da Vinci poured his expertise into it, and every brush stroke whispers "perfection". The painting is a masterpiece; people want to witness her, feel the enigma behind her smile, and taste that mystery. The bare bones of the story? It's a painting of a woman named Lisa Gherardini, commissioned by her husband, a wealthy merchant. In my opinion, the painting is rendered for a male gaze, which follows the conventional standards of female beauty at the time. Da Vinci used the sfumato technique — making the shading soft, elegant, dainty, and patient. It's a demure depiction of femininity where you can stand and admire the subject and the art techniques. It doesn't make you feel anything; it encourages you to look for the "secret hidden behind her smile."

I was frustrated but not surprised when this painting was used to subtly suggest that Carol is similar to the Mona Lisa because the entire show is written for the male gaze. One of the most compelling female characters on TV — who broke gender norms and societal constructs — is compared to the most well-known painting in the world, which also happens to be a painting of someone's wife.

Carol is not a muse of a man. She isn't a masterpiece that people are still trying to understand. Carol is a force of nature; you know exactly who she is because she isn't afraid to show you. She doesn't represent a subject to be contemplated or held under scrutiny by the male gaze. She embodies the flawed perfection of a woman revered by the female gaze.

Which brings me to this masterpiece.

Judith Beheading Holofernes, Artemisia Gentileschi, 1620 Judith was a widow who entered the enemy camp pretending to be a traitor who wanted to share information about her town. Assyrian general Holofernes was enamoured by her beauty and invited her to his tent, so she charmed him and waited for him to drop his guard. When he drank himself into a stupor, she sawed his head off with a sword to free her people. She and her maidservant returned to her town with Holofernes' severed head.

Artemisia Gentileschi is a celebrated female painter from the 17th century. Although this story has been immortalized in art many times — including Caravaggio's painting, which inspired this one — almost all depictions of this biblical story show Judith as dainty, demure, and passive. But Artemisia's work is imbued with her life experiences.

(trigger warning: mentions of SA, depictions of gore)

Artemisia lost her mother when she was twelve. She was raped by the painter Agostino Tassi when she was a teenager and then tortured at her trial, where she was asked to give evidence of the assault. He was found guilty and banished, but his punishment was never carried out because he had received protection from the Pope. She was the first woman to join Florence’s Academy of Design. She lost four of her five children. She married a Florentine artist and owned a successful workshop in Naples without the help of a wealthy husband or a patron (which was almost impossible at the time). She used her influence as an artist to highlight female agency, and elevated women to be bold and assertive in her paintings. (source)

Now, look at the painting again and tell me what you see.

Judith is identical to Artemisia herself, and Holofernes resembles her abuser, who was never punished. Judith is muscular with a softness to her skin; her sleeves and bracelet are rolled up, and her maidservant helps her but never clouds the composition. The chiaroscuro technique carves the subjects in sharp shadows and light. Judith's and her maidservant's faces are determined and calculated, and the most emotion you see is the horror in Holofernes' eyes as the blood sprays from his neck and pools around his body. Once you notice the blood, it permeates the painting — even the velvet blanket that covers him becomes an extension of it.

A wise woman once said, "Give him the greatest night of his life. Get him to drop his guard, and then when he's sleeping, you can end this."

Judith is ordinary, flawed, and resourceful because she has to be. Her goal is to protect her people, and she will do what is necessary to save them. She gives into the male gaze to achieve that goal, but ultimately, even though she's in a camp full of armed men and is at "the mercy" of a powerful man who underestimates her — she holds all the power.

The woman in this painting is feminine, violent, beautiful, terrifying, determined, and unafraid.

Remind you of anyone?

Women written by the male gaze for the male gaze often fall into two-dimensional categories: they're either violent or scared, sexy or demure, good or evil, selfish or self-deprecating, perpetrator or victim, etc. The writing is often surface level, doesn't capture the depth of the woman's personality and keeps morphing to suit a male character's story. More often than not, the person most affected by their personality is a man who either saves them or shuns them. Or worse, he kills them or watches them die — sometimes both. In these scenarios, the woman becomes the narrative device that furthers the man's story. Her story is stripped down to build the man's tragic hero arc — he lives, but she dies for it.

Carol Peletier is the antidote to this structure because she broke the stereotype. Carol is perfectly flawed because she makes mistakes and choices women aren't "supposed to make," yet her beauty, strength, motivation, and honour remain unchanged. Her losses are the scars that mark her journey, and she commands her story completely. She is capable of extraordinary things, and I have never once doubted her integrity.

Carol deserves a story that sees and honours the beautiful and terrifying force of nature that she is. A showrunner who follows gimmicks to portray strong women, makes men punish them for their choices and then compares his female lead to the Mona Lisa because "there is a secret hidden behind her smile" hasn't even begun to fathom who Carol is and what she's capable of. She deserves leadership that recognizes and respects the flawed perfection of an ordinary woman who will beguile a powerful enemy and behead them to save her loved ones. She deserves leadership who knows she isn't here to pick up the pieces of a man's story — she is the story.

That is what a woman is capable of. That is what a woman can do.

The current leadership of The Book of Carol is trying their best to box Carol into a misogynist trope that will never hold her, even if it tries to. Melissa McBride is the only person who tends to Carol's integrity and keeps it strong for us through all of this. She holds this show together even when she doesn't have compelling writing, equal billing or an inclusive title.

Carol Peletier deserves a showrunner who not only sees her flawed perfection but reveres it, cherishes it, immortalizes it, and sears it into the story so fiercely that you can see it from the heavens long after the flame has gone out.

[morganas-pendragons]

All That Time We Were Silent | Aemond Targaryen

This idea will not leave me alone. Violet Hill by Coldplay remains one of my favorite songs and I loved writing this concept for my first Aemond fic. Not to mention that every single Paris Paloma song is House of the Dragon coded. I don’t know. It makes me want to write a series for this pair (particularly one where SPOILERS SPOILERS Aemond dies at The God's Eye and it's this reader who kills him instead of Daemon -> put to The Fruits by Paris Paloma, because I have no self control and will use the same song and multiple different lyrics as titles)

The reader in this is female, and she's about two years older than Aemond. Also Rhaenys and Corlys' youngest daughter.

Anyway. This is set pre and post Rooks Rest with Velaryon!Reader, but it is Rhaenys’ daughter with Corlys because I can’t handle moms who lose all their children (ahem I’m looking at you Carol Peletier) 😭

***

"My sweet little dragon," Your mother caught your face in her hands, dark eyes staring down into your own as you stopped pacing in the halls of The Red Keep. It had only been mere hours since Alicent had delivered the news that your betrothal to Aemond was broken off. You were still so confused about why it had happened at all. Just mere days ago, you were gathering the courage to actually confess to Aemond how you felt. "Do not let that fire go uncontained."

"Mother-"

Rhaenys shook her head. Of her three children, you had always had the most spirit: You were far more likely than Laena and Laenor both to get yourself into trouble. You were the fire she believed would never stop burning.

"Listen to me. You are blood of the dragon, salt of the sea. You are a perfect split of myself and your father." Rhaenys hummed as she pulled you into her side, fingers gently winding through your hair as you hid your face in her shoulder. It was easy to forget that you were barely ten and eight. You also fiercely loved your parents. They were all you had left.

"I loved him, and she took him! What was wrong with me? What did I do?"

"I know. You did nothing. It is all the crown who pushes this upon you." Rhaenys knew better. She knew exactly why Alicent had taken it upon herself to split your betrothal to Aemond. You were getting too close. She couldn't have that happen to her precious son. "Above all, remember this. Fire can consume. That's what its purpose is. Please, sweetheart, do not let it take away those precious parts of you that the Hightowers have tried so hard to steal."

You often thought about how hard your mother tried to maintain your innocence after your brother and sister died. How your mother and father had trained you up as both salt and sea, fire and blood, determined that they would not lose another child while being involved with Rhaenyra's ascension.

Your mother had tried so hard to temper that anger down. It had worked, for a while.

Then Rook's Rest happened.

***

You found yourself positioned between Corlys and Rhaenys as Jace continued in his questioning of his mother after her sudden departure. Rhaenyra's explanation is as sound as she can make it - attempting for peace before plunging the realm into war - and you cannot find fault in her for going to see Alicent. The pursuance of peace is far more important then a war between dragons.

You dare not think about the end. How many dragons would be left?

How many people at this table would still be breathing?

"Cole's victories have only emboldened him." Rhaenys remarked. "He marches on Rook's Rest."

"Why Rook's Rest?" Rhaenyra questioned. "After Duskendale? It's but a small coastal keep."

You're not paying much attention to the remarks of old men spread across the table. You're not a strategist, not by any means, but you are itching for the opportunity to meet Aemond in the field. You have the second largest claimed dragon besides your mother, and you have the most experience in flight. You are a dragon rider.

You are capable of this.

More than anything, you want to make him pay for what he did to you. For how he hurt you. You want him to remember the pain you endured and the way he'd abandoned you. Left alone to face the phantoms remaining inside a little cliffside house by the sea. You'd visited it far more times then you cared to admit after your betrothal had been broken off.

You want to turn his silence - which has spread across the years, as the Prince has not attempted to send ravens since just before Viserys died - into begging, into screams that echo across a scorched battlefield as you plunge your sword into his heart.

It's the least of what he deserves.

"Send me." Jacerys interjected. Your heart sank as you watched the Prince's attempts at negotiating with his mother, eager to serve and eager to fight.

Rhaenyra would never let the loss of another son stand.

"No." Rhaenyra snapped.

"I will burn Coles lines and withdraw before King's Landing can raise the alarm-"

"You lack the experience."

You cleared your throat and stepped out of your space between your mother and father. "I will go," You said firmly. "I have the second largest dragon here besides Meleys and have experience. Nightshade was actively in battle prior to me claiming her. I also am able to evade Vhagar and Aemond. It could be a potential opportunity to take Aemond out of the-"

"No." Rhaenys' voice is clear and sharp as she stepped into your space, firm hand resting on your shoulder as your father nodded his confirmation of your mother's statement. "You must send me, Your Grace. Meleys is your largest dragon and no stranger to battle. I will meet Cole."

Both Corlys and yourself watched Rhaenys meet Rhaenyra's eyes before she released you from her grasp and began her pace toward the Dragon Mont. You could tell Rhaenyra did not want her Hand to depart.

You did not wish your mother to go either. Not with such threat of death looming over her.

"Mother!"

Rhaenys turned to gaze at you over her shoulder. Donned in her ceremonial armor and crown, The Queen Who Never Was softened at the sight of her daughter as you stormed into the Dragon Mont. Meleys whined at the sight of you. She could always acutely feel her rider's fierce devotion to her children. "Do not argue with this," Rhaenys said. "I will not let you meet your end in battle when you are the future of our House. Stay here, defend Rhaenyra, attend to your duty as a Targaryen. Do you understand me?"

"But Aemond-" You interjected, pausing as she reached underneath her shoulders and unfastened her cloak, tightening it around you until the dragon clasped just beneath her neck. You shuddered and leaned forward to rest your head on her shoulder. You would've been lying if you said you weren't terrified. "Please, Mother. Please come back."

Rhaenys smiled and tilted your head forward to press a kiss upon the crown, tightening her cloak around your shoulders before turning to Meleys. "We're off to battle again, old girl." She whispered. Identical eyes met your own before she grabbed the side of her saddle. "My littlest dragon..."

It was only then she remembered how young you were. How alone you were.

"Mother?"

"Avy jorrāelan, my Princess."

Tears burned your eyes as Meleys roared and took off through the mouth of the Mont.

You never saw her again.

***

Rhaenys turned her back to gaze upon Vhagar as Sunfyre descended and fell into the woods. It would've been the perfect opportunity to turn back. To retrieve you from Dragonstone, to have two of Rhaenyra's largest dragons take flight against Vhagar would nearly guarantee a victory for the Black Queen.

She did not do either.

The Queen Who Never Was ordered her dragon to attack, tied herself into her saddle, and took off through the smoke that had settled over Rook's Rest.

She dare not dwell upon her own memories of this dragon she was about to face. About Laena claiming Vhagar, about your first ride upon both Vhagar and Meleys, about your own claiming of Nightshade... of Laenor and Laena.

The nights she'd spent upon the window waiting for Corlys to come home, all three of her children with her.

She dare not dream of home.

***

"Do you ever wish it for us?"

"Wish what?" You asked, twirling your fingers through the ends of Aemond's hair where his head rested upon your chest. "All I wish for us is to take our dragons to the ends of the earth and spend the rest of my life indulging in the finest chocolates and wine with the man I love. That is what I wish."

Aemond snorted and curled himself deeper into your side. "To be able to properly express our love. I don't think my mother will ever let it happen. This. Us. She won't let it continue. Not with the threat of Rhaenyra sitting the Iron Throne-"

"I don't want to think about Rhaenyra, Aemond." You murmured. "I want to think about you and me. That's a far happier memory then to dwell upon all the times The Stranger has descended upon my family. I will not let the Gods take what we have from me too."

Aemond tried not to think of you when Vhagar descended upon Meleys, teeth clamped firmly into her neck while the other dragon roared.

He tried not to think of all the times he'd seen you with this dragon himself, with Vhagar, all the times he'd had those precious words on the tip of his tongue when he watched your joy in the face of such terrifying beasts.

If you love me.. won't you let me know?

Aemond could not risk it. Admitting to his growing feelings, his growing adoration, gave his mother another weapon to use against him. You were far too good of a thing in his life for Aemond to be okay with Alicent weaponizing that.

That had been why she'd broken off the betrothal. It wasn't her idea.

It was his.

If you love me, why'd you let me go?

He tried not to think of you as the world was enveloped in fire, and he tried not to think of you as he watched the Red Queen descend into the castle at Rook's Rest. She did not get back up.

He was told The Queen Who Never Was died that very same day.

***

It was Baela who delivered the news to you.

"Auntie?"

You turned your head to acknowledge the Princess and smiled, beckoning her deeper into your chambers. "Enter, sweet girl." The peace that had fallen upon you in your time waiting for your mother to come home dissipated once you recognized the tears brimming in Baela's eyes. "What is it?"

You tightened your fingers in your mother's cloak as Baela broke the news. You expected to be much more upset. Devastated. What you felt instead was that same anger that your mother had spent years tempering in you begin creeping to the surface. You were most certainly not your father and mother's daughter.

Maybe that anger came from deeper in your family line. Maybe it was generational. Maybe all Targaryens harbored anger like this.

"She died a warrior." You murmured. You wanted to believe that. You did believe that. Your mother would have fought valiantly against whatever foe dare face her. "She died a true dragon rider. We can only wish the same for ourselves."

"What is to be done now?" Baela asked.

Your thoughts automatically went to your father. Your father, waiting for a wife who would never come home. Your father residing upon the Driftwood Throne in a castle that would resemble a tomb, for none of its occupants remained. They were all dead. All that remained of them was their memory.

"I need to go home. To see your grandsire," You said quietly. "The loss of my mother will devastate us both-"

"Has it not already?"

You had to consider her question thoroughly before being able to answer it. When your brother and sister had died, it had taken you a significantly longer period of time than your mother and father to adjust. To be able to properly allow yourself to grieve. How was there time for the luxury of grief when the obligation of being the Heir to the Driftwood Throne was being pressed down upon you?

"Not yet. My anger will get the better of me first." You sighed and squeezed the girl's shoulders before releasing her. "And then the grief will surely follow."

***

Rhaenyra called you into the room with the Painted Table some hours later. You were not ready to hear her. Just as you'd said, Baela watched Rhaenyra attempt to offer consolation and comfort in the face of your mother's loss.

This was, in your words, three people that Rhaenyra Targaryen had taken from you. You would not allow your father to be the next.

"Princess-"

"No!" You yelled. All the voices in the room died as Rhaenyra's head snapped upward, blue eyes meeting your own from across the painted table as you stormed forward. "I refuse participate in a war like this one. I don't care if your legitimacy has been contested. My mother was the only reason I allowed for myself and Nightshade to take part. I will not risk the future of my House or my dragon for the sake of the Iron Throne."

You knew you were being irrational. It was easier to be irrational and angry for the loss of your mother and direct it at Rhaenyra then come to your second most devastating realization: Despite how much you still loved Aemond, you were going to have to be the one to kill him. You were going to have to be the one to kill him because he was the one who took your mother from you.

Right now, you had one goal in mind. One that you fully intended to see it through.

"Princess, where are you going?"

"Home. I'm going back to Driftmark to deliver news to my Lord father of the passing of my mother. It needs to be me."

"And if the Queen has need of you?"

You flippantly waved your hand over your shoulder. "Don't! The only time you need to have me involved, Your Grace, is when you need someone who can successfully face Aemond and Vhagar. When that happens, I want to be the one to end it." You turned back around in the hallway to stare at the Black Queen's Council, your nieces and nephews, the Queen Who Had Yet To Be. "He killed my mother. I want retribution for that act."

You'd rather she be the Queen Who Never Was. If anyone deserved the right of being Queen, it was Rhaenys.

"When it's time to kill Aemond, it should be me. Call upon me then. Until that point comes? You are on your own."

[authors note: I'm seriously considering adding a second part just for the fact that I have GOT to write Seasmoke claiming Addam LOL]

[doe-rose-q]

🚨This is a Bethyl fandom-related post! All haters will immediately be blocked! 😉🚨

“Hey, Norman Reedus! 😄

We fans of Beth Greene, Emily Kinney and Bethyl would be absolutely thrilled to see Beth G. appear in Daryl Dixon season 3! Since you’re one of the series’ producers as well as its top star, can you possibly affect the writers to make this happen??? A flashback, dream sequence, hallucination, or even a merely mentioned thought would suffice. 💁🏻‍♀️

Beth obviously made a strong impact on Daryl while they were together on their own in The Walking Dead‘s Season 4… she taught him how to feel and express his emotions and he taught her how to fight and defend herself. It would sure be validating to see some evidence of this onscreen by way of Daryl’s reflection. Or maybe Beth somehow shows up alive in France? Stranger things have happened. 😜

Tbh, Carol magically finding Daryl within the huge expanse of Europe in this 2nd season is just as believable. *smh* 🙄😒😐

The “needle in a haystack” factor is a major suspension of disbelief in this storyline.

Because you have always been the Captain of the Bethyl Ship, my fellow Bethyler @only-if-these-wings-could-fly and I thought this would be a fun little campaign to launch in the midst of all this. 😆

One more thing: Isabelle sure looks a lot like Beth. 😏

And we gleefully know that this “coincidence” + the fact that they kissed each other—Daryl’s very 1st shown ONSCREEN—seriously pisses off the desperate AF C@rylers who laughably refuse to accept that Carol Peletier & Daryl Dixon will never ever be more than FRIEND-ZONE! These characters have both actually declared this fact throughout the course of TWD and in this current season, Carol tells someone that Daryl is her “brother.” The Daryl Dixon showrunner even said that they will never be a romantic couple. Yet the TWDC@rol hashtags amusingly persist. 🤣

Anyway… I commend you on the success of your spinoff and also good-naturedly asking you: please bring Beth back in one form or another. Thanks! 😁

TO ALL OF YOU LOVELY BETHYL SHIPPERS, BETH G. + EMILY KINNEY FANS HERE ON TUMBLR & BEYOND: please reblog this post or make your own similar post. Please feel free to use my photo edit in this post. Please pass on the message in whatever way you wish. And please use these hashtags when you do: #rememberingbethgreene #bringbethback #normanbringbethback

Thank you! ♥️

Doe Rose Q.🌹

[shimmershae]

“Just get home as soon as possible, okay?”  (a Walking Dead drabble, Caryl AU).

Married Caryl AU where Daryl’s helped raise Sophia as his own.  

Sophia’s college-aged.  That doesn’t make her any less their baby.  

“Just get home as soon as possible, okay?”  

 Sophia’s reply is tinny over the speaker, faraway, but her exasperation with her mother’s overprotectiveness comes across loud and clear.  “I’m not twelve anymore, Mom.”  

 A rumble of thunder outside undercuts her words, shakes and rattles the windowpanes, and Daryl starts kneading the muscles that have started tensing beneath his hands, nuzzles his wife’s neck when she bites her lip to stifle the sigh that desperately wants to escape.  “Humor us, ‘Phia.  Alright? Your uncle Merle called.  Said storms tore up parts of Alabama pretty bad.”

 “I’ll call you when I leave.”  

[emswritingsstuff]

Shirt (Carol Peletier x Fem! Reader)

Summary: making out and kissing carols collarbones thank you...shout out to @idkwthgoitmww for all the wonderful ideas they are amazing. also the shirt that i mention is in the image above! in love w her ugh

Warning: making out/ suggestive content! as always for my peace of mind MDNI!

WC: 0.8k

--

The day had been long and tiring, all you wanted to do that night was lay in bed and relax. But without a doubt you wanted to see Carol too. For being in such close quarters, you hadn’t seen Carol all day. Both of you had different jobs, so one on one time was more difficult. 

Luckily, you soon didn’t have to wonder when she was going to be back. Carol had made her way into your shared cell and smiled at you. She had turned her back to you briefly, facing the dresser and you had to grab some clothes out of it. Without thinking, you got up from the bed and laced your arms around her waist. Resting your chin on her shoulder she had eased into you, still doing what she needed, but also having you attached to her. 

Both of you stayed like that for a while, just resting with each other. She turned around to face you and held the sides of your face lovingly. You took this moment to look her over, you don’t know how you missed it at first but what she was wearing struck you. 

Carol was wearing a tan tank top with some lacey looking details on the straps. It wasn’t anything super fancy but you loved it on her. Looking at her collarbones made you feel weak, surely that was the thing you found most attractive on her. But everything about her was attractive. 

Not knowing what had come over you, you’d moved your right hand up her arm and graze it slowly. When you met the strap of her tank top you hooked your index finger under it and tugged it a little bit. 

“I like this shirt,” you notice her face and chest go from pale to a rose red color. She was taken aback by your comment, but she welcomed it nonetheless. “You do?” she spoke in a hushed tone, making sure only you heard her. 

“Mhm,” after you respond you use your right hand to move it behind her neck to bring her into a kiss. It was a quick kiss, not wanting to push Carol far if she didn’t want to. When you pulled back she was still flustered, but had a huge smile on her face. “Like that?” 

She simply nodded her head, taking in a deep breath. Smirking at her you started the kiss again, this time more passionate. You had to have been doing it for a while before Carol had taken initiative and started to move you backwards toward the cell bed. 

You broke the kiss for a while to sit down and make yourself comfortable on the bed. Carol followed you soon after, climbing onto your lap and sitting there. Your hands rested on her hips and played with the belt loops on them. Her hands were on the sides of your face, holding you softly. Soon enough you both had started kissing again, closer and more comfortable now. As the kiss continued, you felt yourself growing more and more confident. Trailing your hand up her body, you rested it on the back of her head with your fingers in her hair. You sat up slightly to improve your range of movement. 

You had begun to trail kisses from her jawline down to her neck. Kissing her neck for a while, she was enjoying herself, never experiencing this much gentle love before you. Her hands had gone from resting on your face to holding your head like how you were holding hers. 

After doing nothing but kissing her neck, you had decided to trail further down to her collarbones. The minute your lips collided with the skin Carol’s head tilted back with a shaky breath escaping her lips. Giggling silently against her skin you pulled away to look her in the eyes. 

“That okay?” You tilted your head to the side in a curious manner. Her eyes met yours as she rapidly nodded her head ‘yes’ and grinned ear to ear. Nodding back you moved your head back down to kiss her there some more. Sometimes nipping at the skin to feel her breath hitch. Nothing hard enough to hurt or bruise, but just enough to feel it. Every kiss and nip at her skin causes Carol to become putty in your arms. You loved it so much, making her feel loved. 

After a while you trailed the kisses back up her neck to her jaw and back to her lips. You both continued to kiss before you eventually felt tired and pulled away. But staring at her and moving your hands to feel her sides and play with the hem of her shirt. 

Carol took in a shaky breath before finally speaking, “I should wear this shirt more often.” 

--

late night quick fluffy carol moment before i get ANGSTY

[sadslay]

could you please write for carol peletier x reader?

where the reader is injured, not a bite but got it while fighting a walker. reader keeps it a secret and tries to treat it herself without carol knowing. carols already lost 3 kids, she didn’t want her to worry

- DAUGHTER ⋆☆ 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐥 𝐩𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

warnings — PLATONIC relationship, depictions of blood and gore, angst, mentions of death

a/n — sorry if this is not at all what you wanted, and its kinda short but i hope you like it :)

you had known carol for years now, since you were fifteen. weather you liked to admit it or not, you thought of carol as a mother figure as she had looked after you since the beginning of all this. there had been a few times she disappeared for months at a time or iced everyone out - including yourself - but she was always there at your lowest, and despite all of carols efforts to leave her mothering tendencies behind, there was something about you she was drawn to. it might have been your blonde hair and freckles that reminded her of sophia, or maybe the fragments of herself that she saw in you, but carol could never bring herself to leave you completely.

a few days before your eighteenth birthday you were out scouting, looking in the towns that neighbored alexandria for anything useful when the unthinkable happened. you were alone, miles away from home and you had just walked into a bear trap. the rusted metal dug into your skin, tearing it apart like it was a piece of paper. the pain was indescribable. metal teeth latched onto your ankle and had no plans on letting go without causing more damage.

muttering curses under your breath you slowly bent down, only making your skin tear as deep crimson red blood began to pool around your foot. your shriek of pain from moments earlier no doubt reached every walker in a five mile radius, so you had to be quick. your hands were quick to find the two springs on either side of the rusted bear trap before pushing them down with your entire body.

as the corroded teeth of the trap pulled away from your flesh you tried to stay silent, but a hollow shriek fell from your lips as tears streams down your cheeks. but you were finally free. you were sure you could see bone but you couldn’t sit around and wait, no one knew you were out here. you had to get home, you had to keep pushing.

after an excruciating walk back to alexandria, it was almost night fall, the sun was beginning to dip beyond the horizon and the air was becoming cold. but the worst of it was still to come, you had to climb over the walls of alexandria and make it back to your home without being spotted. the pain was so indescribable the thought of even trying to articulate it made your head hurt.

by the time you were inside the walls of alexandria the sun had set and the dimly lit street lights enabled you to find you way home, completely oblivious to the pair of watching eyes from a near by kitchen window. carol watched you hobble towards the home, which you shared. as you wondered up the stairs and made your way through the entry way of your new home, carol stuck her head out from the kitchen.

“you alright?” she asked quietly, looking at your grubby skin and bloodied ankle.

you slowly nodded your head, not wanting to bother carol. “mhm.” you hummed. “did we have a first aid kit?” you asked timidly.

carol hummed, turning back into the kitchen to grab a small first aid kit. “you’re going to need stitches.” carol spoke quietly, handing you the little red bag full of bandages.

holding the first aid bag close to your chest, you began to feel light headed. it might have been the loss of blood or the immense pain but you began to feel oddly light, and before you could catch yourself or sit down you had fallen unconscious.

there in an impending feeling of devastation that was consuming carol. since the death of sophia, and the passing of your parents, carol had taken it upon herself to take care of you. while she cared for you, you filled the hole in her heart that sophia had left behind, and now with death lingering at your doorstep, carol began to revert to her old ways. for the first time in years, she had cried herself to sleep thinking of you, and when she woke up she felt hopeless. there was nothing she could do to make your pain go away or to heal your ankle.

you woke up with a sudden urgency to find yourself in the alexandria infirmary. you look down to find your ankle was stitched, your skin poorly pulled together leaving a gruelling sight.

“how’d you feel?” carol asked quietly, turning around from the medicine cabinet. after a long beat of silence she added, “you were out for a few days.”

“m’sorry.” you mumbled quietly, knowing how much it would have freaked her out.

“for being stupid?” she asked, standing at the end of your bed. you’d pissed her off, and now you were finally awake to hear it. “what the hell were you thinking?”

you let out a sigh of annoyance although you knew her concern was from a good place. you could only imagine the kind of spiral you sent her into. she looked at you like her own child and you couldn’t be another loss for her. carol had continued living after loosing her child before, but she didn't know if she had it in her to do it again, she couldn't loose you.

“you’re supposed to tell me when you go out.” she snapped in a hushed whisper, unsure if anyone was near by.

all you could think to do was apologize but you know thats not what she cares about. “it won’t happen again, m’sorry.” you pouted.

you felt a tingling sensation going up your leg, but you quickly brushed that aside as denise wondered through the front door. she had a sweet smile spread across her cheeks as she stopped a few feet from your bed.

"how are you feelin'?"

you shrugged, looking down at your scarred ankle, a scar you'd like to forget. "my legs a little sore." you lied. you leg was still in excruciating pain. "when can i get outta here?" you asked.

denise looked at carol and they exchanged a glance you couldn't quite interpret. "just one more night, 'nd then you'll be on bed rest for a couple of weeks." denise explained.

"a couple of weeks?" you exclaimed, your eyebrows pinching together as you realized how horribly this stupid bear trap had messed you up. "the fuck am i gonna do?" you asked, crossing your arms across your chest.

carol and denise frowned, and after a weak nod denise disappeared into a neighboring room. sitting down on your bed, carol looked at you, a million thoughts going through her mind as you let out a disappointed sigh.

"i'm glad you're okay." carol mumbled barely above a whisper. "i don't know what i would have done with myself if you didn't wake up." she croaked.

in so few words, carol had brought tears to your eyes. words of affirmation were few and far between, but carol admitting what she did made your heart sink as you had realized your importance to her.

she loved you like a daughter.

and you loved you like a mother.

[shimmershae]

This is actually one of my favorites, lol. I just love Prison Caryl so much.

Merry and Bright *12* (a Walking Dead story, Caryl).

Title:  Merry and Bright *12*

Rating:  PG?

Warnings:  cheesy fluff and very tame innuendo. 

Characters/Pairings:  Carol/Daryl, mentions of Rick Grimes, Sasha Williams, and Glenn Rhee.  Season 4ish.

    Merry and Bright *12*

    Just a few candles still flicker as Carol makes her way to her cell.  Shadows and silhouettes dance behind blanket doors, stars in their own stop motion movies, and the fanciful thought tugs her smile wider.  It makes her lips curl and her eyes crinkle and she’s still wearing that same silly self-amused expression when she practically stumbles into Daryl, has to fist the worn flannel of his shirt in her efforts to stay upright. 

  Daryl, for his part, remains an unmovable solid force.  Strong and dependable as always, he doesn’t say a single word.  Not a solitary peep. 

  Not that he has to, because Carol is more than amenable to filling up the silence.  The wine her Secret Santa (Sasha) had gifted to her just hours before warms her belly even now, has loosened her tongue and her inhibitions where Daryl is concerned to the point where she doesn’t even try to cloak her affection for him.  The shameless flirt inside of her just gives in to the feeling and she laughs, utterly and delightfully flustered by their close proximity, by the muscles she imagines rippling beneath her unsteady palms, by the overly bright blue eyes that are smiling down at her even if his beautiful mouth is too slow or stubborn to catch up to the notion.  “Oops.  Looks like I just ran a red light.” 

  He snorts and his lips twitch.  Just the slightest of twitches, barely even noticeable to the novice Daryl Dixon observer. 

  Carol, of course, doesn’t fall into that category.  She never really has.  Since the Farm, way back at the Quarry even, she could read him.  Not necessarily like an open book but fairly easily all the same.  Initially as someone that recognized a thread of commonality just beneath the surface of his careful, gruff demeanor.  Then as someone trusted implicitly enough to be handed the secret key to the journal of his thoughts on occasion.  “Gonna arrest me?” 

  The twitch transforms into the tremble of a restrained laugh.  “Depends.” 

  She lifts a quizzical brow, uncurls her fists to smooth the wrinkles she’d created.  It’s the flimsiest of excuses to keep touching him and if confronted, she’ll readily admit to it.  But he doesn’t seem to mind.  Far from it actually.  Her palms stroke deliberately up and down his chest, even sweep across the impressive breadth of his shoulders while she’s afforded this rare chance, and they positively tingle with the temptation to slip beneath the straining buttons of his shirt and find the warm skin she knows is underneath.  The man’s always put off enough natural heat to warm his own zip code and her unleashed libido would love nothing more than to soak it in, up close and even more personal than she’s doing now, but—but they play it just this side of safe.  Either way, Daryl doesn’t seem to mind the petting (because that’s what it undeniably is).  He just closes his eyes and leans into her touch like he’s starved for it.  Rumbles like a big cat, a half-tamed mountain lion of a man, and flexes his fingers against her hips like unsheathed claws for all the impact it makes on her nerve endings (seriously…had they been there the entire time?).  “On?  Stuff, Pookie?  Things?” 

  The laugh he’s been holding back tumbles free only to dissolve into a groan.  “Stahp.” 

  Her hands, which have made their way into his hair to tickle at his scalp, start to withdraw, and he catches her elbow to draw her back to him.  She has no choice but to let him (for reasons).

  “Didn’t mean you hafta…”

  “Daryl Dixon.  If you start purring, I swear to God I’m going to…”  She can’t even finish the threat before she’s giggling, giddy and girlish like she hasn’t in literal years and she doesn’t know what deserves more of the blame—the wine or the way he’s looking at her, pleasure drunk and a little perplexed.  Probably both.  Either way, she finds it hard to deny her natural impulse to stretch up on tiptoe and cover his smile with her own.  Their teeth clack and their noses bump together and retreat like, well, bumper cars.  It’s awkward and breathless and probably a mistake—she’ll blame it on the wine and construction paper mistletoe tomorrow, but his fingers haven’t moved from her hips.  His feet haven’t stumbled backwards and his lips are still curved in that shy (sly?) little half-smirk of a smile when she rocks back on her heels and sputters in embarrassment.  “Sorry.  That didn’t exactly go the way I’d imagined it.  Not that I…oohhh.”  Her brain short-circuits into unintelligible mush when his thumbs sneak beneath the hem of her loose sweater and stroke idly.  She swears she can feel every whorl, every callous, and she’s struck with the random, silly thought that when Beth comes to wake her up in the morning for breakfast duty and finds her dead, because that’s where this is headed if Daryl keeps it up, it’s too bad Rick won’t be able to dust for fingerprints.  Still.  There are definitely worse ways to go.  “Keep doing that.” 

  “Promise to keep breathin’?” 

  “Oh hus…oomph.”  Her hands leave his hair to cup his cheeks and the prickly tickle of his whiskers against her palms makes her shiver and laugh against his seeking lips.  The cold press of metal biting into her back is jarring, but it’s forgotten within seconds because in this, as in everything, Daryl is a quick study.  His teeth nip and tug at her feigned pout.  His mouth silences her whine and disarms her so his tongue can steal inside and map out the lay of the land.  In a manner of speaking.  Basically?  He renders her semi-permanently speechless and she’s left staring at him, slack-jawed and utterly boneless, blood warm and fizzy in her veins like champagne bubbles, when he pulls away. 

  “Better?” 

  All she can manage is a Pfft that brings the blue of his eyes back in focus, makes them shine in the dark sky of his pupils as he huffs a laugh in response.  She wants to ask him if he’s hid the pod beneath his bunk, demand to go search it out for herself, but he’s flipped all the breakers in her brain and her legs feel all wobbly anyway.  She settles on a nod instead. 

  Daryl briefly nuzzles each palm before lowering them to her sides and nudges her gently on her way with some sage, reluctantly given advice.  “Sleep it off.  Drunk tank’s pretty full.” 

  He’s all but swallowed up by shadow, his broad shoulders just a dim outline in the dark, by the time she rediscovers her voice.  “Daryl?”  In the seconds, minutes, hours it seems to take for him to turn around, Glenn launches mid-chorus into a tipsy, off-key rendition of Joy to the World that somehow segues into Jeremiah Was a Bullfrog below and she’s smiling again.  This time, though?  It’s softer.  More thoughtful.  Much more sober than minutes before.    

  “Yeah?” 

  “It wasn’t just the wine.” 

  “Mmm.” 

  “It wasn’t,” she insists again.  “Just…don’t write it off as just being the wine, okay?  Don’t.”  She finally breathes again with his softly muttered promise. 

  “Won’t.” 

  He lingers in the darkness.  So does she.  She’s just gathering the heavy curtain in front of her cell between her fingers when he bravely breaches the silence, one more time. 

  “Come find me in the morning.” 

  She frowns and lets the curtain fall.  “Don’t you have watch tomorrow morning…oh.  Oh.”  A slow, giddy grin banishes the rest of her remaining doubts and she can’t resist getting in one last tease before parting.  “Should I bring Rick’s cuffs?” 

  “Get your ass in bed before I take it back.” 

  “No take backs, Pookie.  Especially not at Christmas.” 

  “Ass in bed.” 

  Glenn’s moved on to Baby, It’s Cold Outside and Carol wiggles her brows suggestively.  Even the darkness can’t hide the adorable shade of pink that Daryl flushes.  “Sure you don’t want to tuck me in?  Do stuff?  Things?  Naked things.” 

  “Stahp.” 

  “Bah humbug to you, too, Pookie.” 

[dixons-sunshine]

no thoughts just carol comforting you with a hug and her soft voice

It’s Alright, I Got You | Carol Peletier x Fem!Reader

Summary: When Carol found you after days of tracking down the man that had kidnapped you, she found you shaken up and worse for wear. There was nothing she could do to help you at that moment except offer you her comfort—and plan the perpetrator’s demise.

Warnings: Injuries, blood, non-descriptive mentions of SA.

Word count: 1.2k.

A/N: Yes. Just yes. She’d give the best hugs ever. This was supposed to be fluffy but it took a more angsty route. I hope you like it nonetheless, my love 💜.

(GIF isn’t mine.)

“Carol...”

Your weak, trembling voice reached the Peletier woman’s ears. Carol’s heart shattered at the heartbreaking sound, and broke even more at the sight that beheld her when she finally managed to get to you; your eyes were bloodshot from crying, your clothes were hanging on by a mere thread, multiple deep cuts and bruises littered your body, and your wrists were raw from the ropes that were bounding you to the chair that psychopath had forced you into.

Carol sincerely hoped that Daryl hadn’t killed the bastard, because she wanted to do so herself. Nobody was allowed to hurt you in such a way and get away with it. Not on her watch.

Carol rushed towards you, dropping her bow in the process, but she didn’t even realize. Her only concern at that moment was you. She had to get you out of those ropes and out of that godforsaken warehouse you had been stuck in for days at that point in time. She had to get you to safety. That was her main priority.

The sound of your pained whimpers as she removed the ropes that were tightly bound around your wrists had tears welling up in her eyes. “I know it hurts. I’m so sorry,” she whispered apologetically, swallowing at the lump that had formed in her throat. After your wrists were untied, she crouched and made quick work of removing the binds around your legs. Once removed, she stood back up and moved to help you up.

You accepted her help with zero protest. You were just too tired to even attempt to keep up your strong facade. However, your legs buckled under your weight, and you tumbled to the ground.

Carol quickly caught you and slowly lowered you to the ground, cleverly noting that you would not be able to stand at all, and she wasn’t strong enough to carry you. You’d have to wait for Daryl. However, she would not leave your side. She’d stay by your side for days to ensure your safety.

You broke down into tears. Your sobs reverberated throughout the empty room. Carol gently and carefully wrapped her arms around you, bringing you into her chest. She placed a soft, tender kiss on top of your head, slowly rocking you from side to side. “It’s alright, I got you,” she told you softly, blinking away the tears that fell from her eyes at witnessing the state you’re in. “You’re okay. I got you. I got you.”

Your sobs didn’t let up. If anything, they only worsened. Hearing Carol’s voice after days of being trapped and submitted to torture seemed like the first ray of warm sunshine after a harsh, cold winter. However, your mind was plagued by the horrifying actions that had been done to you, and that overpowered the relief you felt.

“He—he assau—” you tried to tell explain to her through your heart wrenching sobs, but to no avail. Even just thinking of what that horrible man had done to you made you want to curl up into a ball and cry until you couldn’t anymore.

You didn’t need to finish your sentence for Carol to understand. She understood what you were trying to say clearly, and it was enough to make her mind go into a murderous rage. If she hadn’t wanted to kill that bastard before, she definitely did after your admission. That man would not live to see another day. She’d make sure of it.

She tightened her arms around you in the hopes of bringing you some comfort. What could she possibly say or do to make you feel better? What had happened to you was beyond awful. There was nothing she could say. All she could do was offer you her support. She just prayed that it was enough.

“Shh, don’t talk. It’s okay,” she told you reassuringly. “He won’t hurt you anymore. I promise. I won’t let him.”

You nodded and buried your face deeper into her shirt, your tears staining the fabric, but she didn’t mind. She gently rubbed your back and placed another kiss to the top of your head. Yeah, there was no changing her mind. That asshole was going to meet a cruel, agonizing end.

The door to the room the two of you were in opened, and you tensed up. However, Carol shushed you and rubbed your back reassuringly. “It’s okay. It’s just Daryl.”

You hesitantly looked up, and you locked eyes with the crossbow-wielding archer. His cerulean blue eyes trailed over your face and body with a frown on his face, concern etched deeply onto his features. Daryl was one of your best friends. He would kill for you.

Similar to Carol, Daryl came to a conclusion; that man was going to die.

“Where’s he?” Carol asked him, her brows furrowed together in a deep frown.

“Bastard’s tied up and in the trunk’a Aaron’s car. He ain’t gettin’ loose anytime soon.”

Carol nodded and shifted her attention back to you. Your sobs had quieted down considerably, probably due to the fact that you didn’t want to cry in front of Daryl. “Daryl’s gonna need to pick you up. Is that okay?” she asked you in a gentle voice. You tensed at the thought, but slowly and hesitantly nodded, making the Peletier woman smile sadly. Never before had you had any problems with being carried by Daryl. The man had even given you piggy back rides before. This hesitance only further confirmed what had happened to you, angering her further, but she kept that anger at bay for the time being.

Daryl moved forward and crouched down in front of you, carefully picking you up. He instantly noticed how tense you were. “S’alright. S’jus’ me. I ain’t gon’ hurt ya, I promise.” When you nodded, he shared a look with Carol—who had stood up from her position on the ground—before determinedly walking out of the building and towards the vehicles, Carol hot on his tail.

The two of them made quick work of placing you into the truck where Siddiq was so that he could check you over as best he could until everyone was back in Alexandria. Carol gave your hand one last reassuring squeeze, a silent acknowledgement of your bravery for complying without any protest, even if you were shaken up and untrusting of men at that point, before walking off and beckoning Daryl over for a private conversation.

“You got all the information you needed from him?” she asked him, cutting straight to the chase.

Daryl shook his head. “Nah. Asshole ain’t spillin’ the beans. Gon’ need to take more drastic measures.”

“Leave that up to me.”

The tone the Peletier woman was downright terrifying, and it sent shivers up the archer’s spine. “What are ya gon’ do to him?”

Carol glanced back towards you, towards the sight of the broken shell of the bright, bubbly person you used to be. She was usually a rational person, and she always tried to think of other solutions before resorting to the worst, but she couldn’t at that moment. She only had one thing on her mind. She turned back towards Daryl. Her eyes held a determined fire beyond the irises, and when she spoke again, her voice was cold, unforgiving.

“I’m gonna make him pay for what he did to her.”