#though who the fuck am I kidding they have Carl he sounded the same for like 30+ years even through chain smoking and lung cancer

[pebblezone]

Rise and shine babes I’m making this everyone’s problem 💞

[zoesmp4]

STUPID “love makes you stupid.” carl grimes x walsh!reader

tags: angst, some fluff, violence, blood, 6x9

a/n: omg this req was SO good i am sosososo sorry i couldn’t execute it properly 😭 im not so proud of this one, but i hope its ok!! 

you and carl grimes had been best friends ever since you could walk. you both met when your dad brought you to "bring your kid to work day" down at the station. the scent of coffee and the echo of footsteps filled the air.

it started to seem extremely boring, until a stranger approached you and your dad. you saw a little boy standing next to him, and felt a little less lonely. the man recognized you, though you had no idea who he was. "hi there y/n, this is carl." he introduced.

ever since then, you guys were inseparable. you and carl had a bond which was special, it was like no other. you could be yourself around him, and you could tell carl felt the same. the ease, the comfort, like you didn't have to pretend to be anyone else when you were together.

as expected, seeing him for the first time after the apocalypse started unleashed a unique wave of relief within you. you vividly recall the both of you making eye contact and running toward each other. you hugged each other tightly, as if you'd been separated for years.

"i was so scared!" you said, clutching your doll in your hand. "you don't need to be scared anymore," he reassured. "i'm here to protect you." carl loved to be your knight in shining armor, even when you were young.

through all the dark days, and as you both grew older, you two had always been there for each other. no matter whatever crap life threw at you, you guys stuck together. walker got too close to you? dead.

"i would never let anything happen to you. don't worry." he would always say. he was your closest friend, your ride or die. growing up was hard enough during the apocalypse, but having each other made it bearable.

however, as time passed, you started to feel a different way towards him. you started to feel as if things wouldn't be so bad if you guys were more than friends. actually, it was starting to seem like it was all you could dream of.

you thought it was just a one time thing, but you were dumb to think so. you often found yourself blushing at the thought of him, and when he had caught you daydreaming, let's just say he was curious.

"come on, why can't you just tell me who you like?" he asked, growing more agitated by the second. "shut up, i don't like anyone." you said, rolling your eyes playfully. "bullshit, tell me who it is." he said, looking you in the eye, a grin plastered onto his pretty face.

"nope!" you replied, popping the "p."

carl grimes had stolen your heart, and there was no doubt about it. you knew he had you wrapped around his finger, it was quite obvious when you would stress whenever he got the tiniest injury.

"calm down, it's just a cut." "do you ever shut up?" you would say, reaching for the bandaids on the top shelves of your room. "it's really not as bad as it looks." you knew he was telling the truth, it was never that serious. however, you being you, you couldn't help but worry. 

but now? now it was actually serious. too serious. you felt the panic start to sink in the second you saw ron, a vengeful look on his face, pointing a gun in rick's direction. you froze when you realized who was in standing front of him. it was carl. your carl.

"you." ron said. your heart pounded against your ribs. your breaths were shallow and rapid, as a wave of terror gripped you. surely he wouldn't actually shoot. right? so many possibilities were going through your head at once, it was the worst thing you ever experienced.

fortunately, michonne came in a flash. you jumped slightly when her katana pierced through ron's skin. atleast it was all over now though. rick was alright. carl was alright.

or so you thought.

BANG!

his stupid fucking finger slipped. 

all of your negative thoughts came flooding back into your mind the moment the sound of the gunshot hit your eardrums. however, among all of your worries, there was one most prominent. where did the bullet go?

your eyes darted around before your gaze landed on carl. he had his head down, and when he looked up, it felt as if all the air in your lungs had been sucked out of your body. "dad?" he whimpered out.

he had been shot. in the head. directly into his eyesocket. the amount of blood flowing down his face made you sick to your stomach. it was only a matter of seconds before his body went limp and fell to the ground.

you never knew it was possible to feel this angry. there was no way in hell that just happened, and you couldn't do anything to stop it. it should've been you.

your facial expression contorted into one showing pure horror and anxiety. your eyes widened, tears at the rim, threatening to fall out. you breathed heavily, as you felt anguish and rage twist within you. rick lifted carl into his arms and carried him. that was your cue to pull out your knife.

you and michonne ran in front of rick and carl, killing walkers one by one. you were going ballistic, slashing every walker you possibly could, grunts escaping your mouth with every stab. you were going on a rampage, you weren't even thinking, you were just so enraged. how could you have let that happen to him?

blood splattered across your face, but you barely even noticed. hot tears streamed down your cheeks. each drop carried the weight of frustration and sorrow, their salty taste bitter on your lips. your body started to grow tired, but you kept pushing. dozens of walkers were laying on the ground.

now, the focus was getting carl help. and that's what you wanted. but you just couldn't stop. you were about to plunge your bloody knife into yet another walker, but michonne caught your arm in mid-air.

"that's enough." she said. she noticed how your chest rose and fell at a rapid pace, and the way you looked like you wanted to watch the world burn.

she took the knife from your grasp before putting her hand around your shoulder for a few seconds to calm you down. "we have to hurry." she continued to kill every walker in her sight, one by one. you didn't care that your body hurt like hell, you didn't care about all the blood splattered onto you, you didn't care that you were exhausted.

the only thing you cared about was carl. would he be okay? was this the end? were you gonna lose your other half? your heart ached. you weren't even gonna get to tell him how you felt about him.

after what seemed like hours of running and fighting, you found yourself laying down in the infirmary bed next to carl's. he'd been patched up before you. he was sleeping, and you were glad he was getting the rest he needed.

but every time you looked at him, your chest tightened. he should've never even have to be here. he should've never had to go through that, ever.

daryl had a chair pulled up next to your bed. he was like a father figure to you after shane died. he sighed, wiping your now crimson splattered arms with a wet rag to clean off the blood. "y' used the knife i gave you?" he said, not looking up from your arm. "yeah, it's the best i have."

the silence in the room was so loud. it's not that he was disappointed in you, he was proud you were able to defend yourself. it was the fact that you could've died and you still kept pushing that made him so quiet. he cared about you a lot, and he knew you didn't have to fight so hard, especially at your age.

"why'd you do that?" he asks, finally making eye contact with you. you let out a breath before opening your mouth to speak, "love makes you stupid."

it felt nice, to finally be able to talk to someone about your feelings for the blue eyed boy. after all, you were never gonna tell him, so atleast you could tell someone. "damn right it does." he replied, before lighty ruffling your hair. 

"get some sleep, okay kiddo?" daryl said, wiping the last of the blood off your arms. "yeah, jus- please don't te-" "i won't tell a soul." he cut you off, already knowing what you were gonna ask of him. "thanks." you said, smiling.

little did you know, daryl wasn't the only person who heard your late night confession. a "sleeping" carl stirred in his bed, now facing the wall in the opposite direction of you. perhaps it was the exhaustion getting to you, but you could've sworn you heard a light chuckle.

[clairdeluneandmurder]

A selection of unhinged quotes from my political theory professor:

"Socrates has a tiny ghost in his head telling him when things are wrong. Unfortunately, it doesn’t tell him when things are right so he’s just really annoying."

*Brings a 1-liter bottle of sparkling water to every class and drinks the whole thing during lecture.*

“The flood happened because God looked down at earth and said ‘I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do with this’, and so he nerfed us again.”

“God comes down and asks ‘Where my people at?’ And Adam and Eve are like ‘We done fucked up’.”

“Any schmuck can match their socks to their shoes but the mark of a true gentleman is matching your socks to your mood.” - said because someone insulted his neon pink socks.

“At that point, everyone else would be dead and it would just be Carl Schmidt waddling around Germany all alone.”

Prof: “Is the Illuminati still a thing with your generation?” Student: “Yeah” Prof: “The number one rule of the Illuminati is toughen the fuck up.”

“You can read Hobbes’ Behemoth if you're like a glutton for punishment or something.”

“The neat thing about soup is that you can start with the same ingredients and end up with a new soup every time.”

“If any of you steal my pies I’m going to assume you’re possessed by a demon... I made a pie yesterday. You have NO IDEA how much fruit goes into one of those fuckers.”

“The great thing about Locke is he’s dead. Once you’re a corpse you can be used for anything.”

“I am the crazy leftist professor your parents warned you about. I will make you read Marx and I will say that racism is bad. Sue me.”

"de Sade would be great at being on the internet. And I do mean that as an insult."

Brought a jar to class and put a dollar in it every time he used the word ‘neoliberal’, said he'd give us the money that goes in at the end of the semester. (we each got 3 bucks, there are 15 people in the class)

"Time is a flat circle and I am but a lonely goldfish cracker."

“By a show of hands, who is hungover today? I’ll go first to make you feel better. I am hungover today, be nice to me."

Starts lecture by writing on the whiteboard: “THE ECONOMY IS STUPID”

“Just to be clear, I’m not saying we should guillotine people who open soap shops on Etsy.”

“People don’t get my Simpsons references anymore. You kids today with your sponge bob and anime.”

“If you need help, please ask for it. The worst thing that happens is I send you a super condescending email and you’re no worse off.”

“You’re a shitty libertarian if you accidentally become a Leninist.”

“Anyone seen one of these modern garbage trucks? It’s sick right?! Pretty fucking cool!” proceeds to do an impression of a garbage truck “Marx would love to drive around a dope robot truck.”

"That’s what makes babies just awful. They don’t understand that they don’t always get what they want."

"For how many of y’all does getting stoned and staring at a wall to ponder morality sound like a great class?"

“I once had a student use the topic 'The only way to commune with the aliens is through nuclear warfare' for this assignment, nothing you write can scare me anymore."

“I'm not going to make you read this. It’s 4 volumes, 2500 pages, and mostly about how linen is produced. Moments of brilliance though.”

“I think we should replace the death penalty with public humiliation. ”

"Crude Freudism will get you 80% of the way there 90% of the time."

"I’m going to throw my uncle under the bus here… Actually, I fucking hated that guy and he’s dead so whatever."

"The best thing you can do for your future happiness is to never think about politics. …I say to a bunch of people enrolled in a 400-level political theory class. Y’alls mental health is fucked I guess."

"God tells you not to do the one Bad Thing and Eve is just so sexy that man has to do the one Bad Thing."

"I haven’t worn a 1950’s bra but I’ve heard they’re very uncomfortable. …Not that I’m opposed, I just don’t have the access and I've been banned from three museums so far."

"Course evaluations are available now y’all. I don’t care what you say about me or the class, but make sure you mention how great my hair is."

"Identity politics can be useful, but I think we’ve probably taken it too far since now we’re at the point where Kid Rock is shotgunning 18 packs of bud light on Twitter as a form of protest."

"We basically live in an aristocracy where you can vote. Sorry to disappoint you if you think Joe Biden is a communist."

"Do you know why we didn’t celebrate international workers day on May first? Because America says fuck you, that’s why."

[leossmoonn]

Dear Y/n

masterlist

pairing - carl gallagher x fem!reader

type - fluff

note  / request - “OMFG FINALLY SOMEONE WRITES FOR RECENT CARL GALLAGHER. Can we get one where the reader is Kev and V’s daughter so they grew up together. And maybe Carl is her secret admirer” so i made debbie and you seniors and carl a junior since he is technically a year younger than debbie. so let’s pretend that debbie stayed in school and carl never went to military school lol, just for the sake of this imagine. enjoy!

summary - you find a note in your locker from a secret admirer and try to figure it out who is your secret admirer

warnings - language

————

*gif isn't mine*

“Hey, girl!” Debbie exclaimed. You looked up from your phone, smiling as you spotted your friend. 

“Hey,” you smiled while walking up to her. Your attention when to Franny, who was sitting in her stroller. You crouched down and smiled at the baby. 

“Hi, baby. How are you? Do you like going to school with Mommy? You know, some day you’ll be going to school. I’ll be an adult and with kids, too!” You babbled to the baby. Franny squealed and held her hands up to you. You giggled, bopping her nose before going up back to talk to Debbie. 

“You’re really good with her,” Debbie complimented.  

“Thanks, kids kinda like me,” you giggled. 

Debbie rolled her eyes, “Yeah, we know. Anyways, can we hang at your house?” 

You two started walking to your guys’s lockers. “Sure. I have to babysit Jems and Ames, though. Mom and Dad don’t get off work until like, midnight.”

Debbie nodded. “Franny can play with them.”

“Sounds good,” you nodded. You unlocked your locker, a piece of paper falling out. 

“What’s that?” Debbie asked.

“I don't know,” you muttered, furrowing your brows. You picked up the paper, unfolding it. Your eyes widened as you saw its contents. It read:

Dear Y/n,

I thought your outfit looked really good. Not that your outfits don’t always look good, but today’s my favorite. I really like your jeans and your red shirt. Red really looks good with your eyes. 

From,

Secret Admirer

Debbie read the note with you, laughing as she got to the end. “You have a secret admirer!”

You smiled, “Yeah. This is cute. I wonder who it’s from.”

“Maybe it’s from Dean Kepner,” Debbie said, nudging your shoulder teasingly. 

You rolled your eyes, “That is the funniest shit I have ever heard.”

“Well, what if it is! I noticed him staring at your shirt today,” Debbie said.

You scoffed, “Yeah, more like staring at my tits. This note said nothing about my  tits. It’s probably not him. Plus, I’m pretty sure Dean can’t make compound sentences. He’s worse at speaking than Ames and Jems, and they’re 3 years old.

Debbie chuckled, “True. Well, we should try to figure it out.”

“Eh. It's probably some jackass who wants to get in my head, and then embarrass me because I thought someone liked me,” you said. 

“Be more optimistic!” Debbie exclaimed. 

“Hm, I will if I get a second note. Let’s go, Jems and Ames are expecting me to pick them up from daycare,” you said. You grabbed a few textbooks and shut your locker. “Is Carl coming home with us?” You asked. 

“I think so,” Debbie said. “Alright. Where is he?” You asked. 

“Probably making out with some slut in the bathrooms,” Debbie said.

“Probably,” you snorted.

You and Debbie walked to the nearest bathroom, peeking behind the corner to see if you could hear any noise. Surprisingly, it was quiet. 

“What are you guys doing?” 

You both jumped, turning around and seeing a confused Carl behind you. 

Carl was Debbie’s little brother. They were both Gallagher’s. They were children of the alcoholic and drug addict Frank and Monica. They lived on the South Side of Chicago, which was where you also lived. 

You were Y/n Ball. Daughter of Veronica Fisher and Kevin Ball. You had lived next to the Gallagher’s all your life. You were their best friend. Well, their only best friend, really. Your mom and their older sister, Fiona, had been friends since forever. You had been born around the same time as Debbie, who was the third oldest out of the 6 Gallagher children, so you two have been basically best friends since birth. Carl was also one of the Gallagher kids you were also the close with, too, him being just a year younger than you. You three had basically grown up together, so being best friends was pretty natural. 

“We were seeing if you were fucking anyone,” Debbie answered. 

Carl scrunched his face up in disgust. “I don’t do that.”

You laughed, “Sure you don’t. C’mon, C-Dog, I gotta pick up the little missies.”

“Alright, Y/n/n,” Carl smiled at the nickname you had given him ever since you two had gotten closer. 

You two hadn’t always been close before. Debbie and you were by far the closest, with being in the same grade and all. You and Carl hung out a lot, but it wasn’t really until he started high school when you two actually hung out one-on-one. He had come to you for relationship advice when he was dating this one girl, Dominique, who turned out to be a horrible person. You two have since bonded about your past, failed relationships, and how shitty life is. 

Since getting closer with him, you had kind of developed a little crush on him. He had always been cute, but when puberty hit him, he became really hot, really quick. You never showed any other feelings for him than platonic, though. You didn’t want to deal with all the drama that it would bring between you and your families. 

“Stop eye-fucking each other, please,” Debbie groaned, walking away from you two.

You rolled your eyes, “Like you should talk. Every guy you meet you imagine sleeping with them.”

“Not true!” Debbie defended herself. 

“Yeah, right. That’s why you have a baby,” Carl joked. 

“You guys are so mean,” Debbie muttered. 

“That one was pretty mean, but at least it didn’t come from me,” you smiled. 

“Yeah, it came from the asshole who got circumcised for a girl,” Debbie laughed. 

You laughed with her, Carl rolling his eyes and blushing. He looked to you and noticed a piece of paper peeking out from your jeans. 

“What's that?” He asked and pointed.

“Oh, it’s a note that someone gave me,” you said. You took it out and gave it to Carl. He opened it and read it. 

“This is nice,” he said. 

“Yeah, it’s pretty cute,” you agreed. He handed you the note back. “Who do you think it is?”

“I don’t know, honestly. I’m kind of thinking it’s a joke, so I wanna wait till I get another one,” you said, folding it back into your pocket. 

“I think it’s Dean Kepner,” Debbie stated.  You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, you're the only one.”

“Is that the popular football guy? In your grade?” Carl asked. 

“Yep. He’s so hot,” Debbie sighed dreamily. 

“I don’t think so,” you stated.

Carl looked at you and nodded. “Yeah, I heard he does hard drugs.”

“Yeah, another reason why I don’t fuck with him. I mean, I have a beer every other night, but never am I gonna do drugs. That shit messes you up,” you sighed. 

“Yeah, we know. We had Monica as our mother,” Debbie said. 

You chuckled, walking over to your car. You got in the driver seat, Carl sitting in the passengers. Debbie usually sat there, but since she has a baby, you told her it wasn’t safe to put Franny in the passenger seat, especially since if the even of an accident, the airbag goes off and hurts Franny. 

You drove to daycare, humming songs from the radio while doing so. While you were driving, Carl couldn’t help but stare between your face and the note in your pocket. You didn’t know, but the person who wrote you the note was him. 

Carl was usually pretty confident and outgoing. All of his family like that. You had to do that to survive the South Side. But when it came to you, he was like jello. He didn’t know how to act, speak, whether he could look at you two seconds longer than normal. You never noticed his behaviour change, though. To you, he was always quiet and low-key. He was thankful that he never questioned why he was so quiet around you, especially since he was a loud, annoying kid when he was younger. 

With these notes, he would be able to say what he was afraid to say to your face. He didn’t want to face rejection, especially by the pretty senior girl that had lived next to him since the day he was born. It would be awkward if you did reject him, so he just kept quiet until maybe he worked up the courage to ask you out depending on wether you liked the notes or not. 

You parked in a handicap parking spot. “Alright, one of you wanna go and help me get Ames and Jems?” You asked. 

“Carl, can you do it, I wanna stay with Franny,” Debbie said.

“Yeah, sure,” Carl nodded. He got out of the car with you, walking into the daycare. 

You walked up to front desk. “Hi, I’m here for Amy and Jemma Ball. I'm their older sister, Y/n,” you said.

“Alright, can I see ID?” The woman asked. 

You nodded and got your wallet out of your back pocket. You handed her your ID. She handed it back to you. 

“Alright, go ahead and head in,” she said.

“Thank you,” you smiled. 

She hummed a ‘you’re welcome’ as you and Carl went into the play room. 

“Why do you have to give her your ID?” Carl asked. 

“I think it’s because she’s new, and also I didn’t drop them off this morning. They wanna make sure no one kidnaps children,” you explained. 

Carl nodded. “Ah, makes sense.”

“Yeah, the usual woman here, Julie, moved to Florida. She always gave me and the girls a mint when we left, and never asked for my ID,” you said.

“Wow, she sounds cool,” Carl said. 

“Yep, she was,” you smiled. 

You walked into the room, spotting Jemma and Amy immediately. They spotted you two, smiling and running up to you. 

“Hi, babes!” You exclaimed, crouching down and catching them in your arms. 

“Hi, Y/n!” They both squealed. 

“Ready to go home?” You asked. 

They both nodded. 

“Alright. Let me go get your stuff, hang out with Uncle Carl for a few minutes, okay?” You said. 

“Okay,” Jemma said.

You walked over to their cubby, grabbing their baby bags. You went back over to Carl, taking a hold of both of the girls’s hands. 

“Let’s go, babes,” you said. 

“I’m hungry!” Amy exclaimed. 

“I’ll get you a snack when we get home, alright?” You asked. 

Amy nodded, smiling excitedly. You smiled at her, looking up to see Carl opening the door for you. 

“Thanks,” you smiled at him. 

“No problem,” he nodded and followed behind you. You put the girls in the backseat with Debbie, unloading their bags in the trunk. You got in the front seat, starting the car. 

“Do you want to be dropped off at your house or stay with us at my place?” You asked Carl. 

“I'll hang with you guys,” Carl said. 

You nodded, “Sounds good.”

You drove back home, parking the car on the side. You unlocked the front door, immediately dropping all the bags you had. You slumped on the couch, taking a breather. 

“Can we have a snack?” Jemma asked. 

“Oh, yeah, right,” you said, getting up. “You guys want some fruit snacks?” “Yeah!” Amy exclaimed. 

You nodded, going to the pantry and getting two packs of fruit snacks for each of them. You led them back to the couch, turning on the tv. 

“Watch TV with Franny, okay? Sissy has to do homework,” you said. 

The twins nodded, looking at Paw Patrol, which was what was playing. You went to the kitchen table, unloading your backpack. 

“You’re really good at taking care of them,” Carl said, sitting next to you. 

You smiled, “Thanks. Mom and Dad do a lot, but since they are a little older and so am I, they let me have more responsibility. They have to work and stuff to make sure we can afford everything. I’d like to say I’m an expert at taking care of Amy and Jemma.”

Carl chuckled, “Yeah, I couldn’t imagine taking care of a kid.”

“Well, you have been taking care of Liam since he was born, right?” You asked. 

Carl shrugged, “I guess.”

“Taking care of kids is easy if you like them,” you shrugged. 

“Makes sense,” he said.

You hummed. 

“So, are you waiting for another note?” Carl asked. 

“Hm, kind of, yeah. I would be lying if I didn’t say I hoped this will turn into some cute, romantic love story with someone,” you chuckled. 

Carl blushed a little, focusing on his own homework. “Yeah, that’d be nice. 

————

“Yeah, Mom, I got it. No problem, see you later,” you said, hanging up the call. You sighed, walking slowly to your locker. 

Your mom had just called you to come to the Alibi to help out since business was buzzing. Word was, Frank was up to one of his schemes again and got the Alibi full and drunk. You couldn’t wait to deal with perky, 50 year-old men catcalling you. You were wearing a sweatshirt, too, which you knew would make it worse since the men always would try to have you take it off, and never stopped pushing. Luckily, you had pepper spray with you at all times so if someone ever got too much, you wouldn’t hesitate to spray them. 

You opened your locker, putting away a few binders when you noticed another note. You grabbed it, unfolding it with a hint of excitement. You would be lying if you said you hadn't been looking forward to this all day. 

You opened the note, smiling widely as its contents. 

Dear Y/n,

Your makeup looks amazing today. You’re really talented with the eyeliner and stuff. Oh, and your lipstick matches really well with your outfit, too.

From,  Secret Admirer

“Another note, huh?” Debbie said, approaching you. 

You smiled and nodded. “Yep.”

“What's that?” Carl asked. 

“Another note from Y/n’s admirer,” Debbie smiled. 

Carl flushed a little. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “I hope this is for real. I want to meet this person.”

“Maybe you will,” Carl said. You looked to him, a worried expression settling on your face. 

“You okay, C-Dog?” You asked. 

“Yeah. I’m gonna catch the bus. See you guys later,” he said, walking off quickly. 

You furrowed your brows. “What's got his dick in a twist?”

“I have no idea. Maybe he likes you,” Debbie smirked. 

Your heart fluttered a little at the thought of him liking you. Debbie knew you liked Carl, so maybe she was fucking with you, but you had to ask to be sure. 

“Does he?” 

“I think,” Debbie said. 

“Oh,” you muttered. “Cool,” you smiled. 

You weren’t going to confront him just yet, but you prayed to God your secret admirer was Carl. 

————

“Hey, there’s something for you in the mail,” Veronica said. 

You furrowed your brows. “Who’s it from?”

“It doesn’t have a name,” Veronica said, hanging you an envelope. “It just has your name on it.”

“Huh,” you said, taking the envelope. You tore it open, your eyes widening as you saw another note it in. 

“What is it?” Kevin asked. 

“A note,” you said. “From my secret admirer.”

“You have a secret admirer! Wow,” Kevin said. 

“Yeah,” you chuckled. You sat on the couch, opening the note. 

Dear Y/n,

I thought you looked really pretty today. I hope you don’t find it weird I mailed this to your house, I actually live close to you, so I saw you crossing the street today. Anyways, I just thought I would let you know you look pretty. 

From, 

Secret Admirer

You found yourself giggling, setting the note down. Even though you were flattered, you found it a little weird this person knew where you lived, even if they supposedly lived near. You didn’t know why they couldn’t just tell you all these things in person. 

“What does it say?” Veronica asked.

“The note calls me pretty,” you said, putting it back in its envelope. 

“Hm, well, whoever this is isn’t wrong,” Veronica grinned. “Do you have any idea who it is?”

You sighed, “Nope. It says they live close to me, though.”

“Maybe it’s one of the Gallagher’s,” Kevin suggested. 

Your eyes went wide, remembering what Debbie had said to a few days ago when you got the second note. You shook your head, though. Carl was out with his friends right now, you had just left his house, too, and there was no sign of him. 

“Nah, no offence to them, none of them are this romantic or anything. Well, except Ian, but he’s gay,” you said. 

“Maybe ask about it, though? All of our other neighbours are old men, and that does not look like old man handwriting,” Veronica said. 

“Maybe I will. I mean, Debbie said Carl liked me, and when I got the second note, Carl was acting all weird and shit,” you said.

Veronica eyes widened. “Carl?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I don’t care if it's him, though, it'd be kind of weird.”

Veronica sat down on the couch next to you. “You like him, don’t you?”

“Kind of,” you said sheepishly. 

“Well, I think you should ask him about it. If he says no, then don’t mention your feelings for him. If he says yes the notes are from him, then confess,” Veronica said.

“Should I do that?” You asked. 

“I think so, baby. Carl’s a good kid, especially with you around. I wouldn’t have a problem with you two dating.”

You smiled, “Thanks, Mom. I’ll go to his place tomorrow.”

“My baby is about to get a boyfriend!” Kevin whooped. “If he hurts you, I will kill him.”

You chuckled, “Thanks, Dad.”

————

You walked into the Gallagher’s house, spotting Fiona in the kitchen.

“Hey, Fi,” you smiled. 

“Hey, Y/n! Are you here fo Debbie? She went out,” Fiona said.

“No, actually. I’m here for Carl,” you said.

“Oh, okay. Well, he’s upstairs,” Fiona said.

“Thanks, Fi,” you smiled and made your way up to Carl’s room. You saw that the door was wide open.

You went in, not seeing Carl anywhere.

Where is he? You thought.

You went around his room, walking around the room. His room was ridiculously messy. Clothes everywhere, food and plates all over the dresser, weird liquid on the floor. You chuckled to yourself as you had to step over the puddle. 

“Boys are horrific,” you muttered to yourself. 

You went to the desk, sitting down in the desk chair. You looked around on the desk, seeing court date papers, old homework, and cigarette boxes. As you looked more to your right, something had caught your eye. There was a paper with your name on it on the back. 

You picked it up hesitantly, slowly unfolding it. Your eyes widened as you saw the words “Dear Y/n”. You knew you shouldn't, but you went ahead and read it anyways. You just wanted to make sure you were correct of your suspicions. 

Dear Y/n,

After these few weeks, I have decided to try and be brave and go up to ask you out. I think you’re really pretty and you’re so funny and nice. I’ve liked you since I started high school, and even if I get rejected, I know I would regret not trying to ask you out. So, I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date?

From, 

Secret Admirer, aka Carl (Gallagher)

“Y/n?” You snapped your head back, seeing Carl in a towel. Your eyes quickly ran past his chest, seeing the toned muscles in his arms and stomach. You eyes went up to his face, lingering on his lips. You then went up to his eyes, seeing them wide and filled with wonder. 

“Sorry, I’ll, uh, go,” you muttered and stood up, leaving the note on the desk. 

“What?” Carl asked. He was beyond confused, but when he saw you and the note, he put the pieces together. As you went to walk out of his room, he grabbed your arm, pulling you back gently so you two were face-to-face.  

“Did read the note?” He asked.

You looked up at him sheepishly, “Yeah, I’m sorry for invading your privacy.”

Carl sighed, “It’s alright. I’m, uh, sorry if I wasn't who you were expecting or anything. I know I’m probably not the person you like or anything, but I just wanted to try and see if you liked me. Ian and Lip said that was a cute idea, the notes.”

Your eyes lit up with he voiced his concerns. Your lips upturned into a smile, your eyes staring into his. 

“Carl, I like you, too,” you said. 

Carl’s eyes widened. “Wha-what?”

You took his hands in yours. “It was a cute idea. And I’ve liked you for the last 3 years, too. I was hoping it was you, actually.”

Carl blushed, a big smile appearing on his face. “Really?” “Yep,” you nodded. 

“Awesome!” Carl chuckled. “So, do you want to go on a date with me?”

“Yeah, I’d love to,” you smiled. 

“Cool,” he smiled. “Well, I need to get dressed. You can stay and watch if you want,” he smirked. 

You giggled at his words. “Don’t mind if I do.”

————

this was trash i am sorry

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@kaitieskidmore1​

[arrowflier]

Thank you for brightening my day with your stories. I always look forward to checking out your blog. Here's a prompt for you: S10 and 11, but Fiona is there and never left Chicago. How does the story change? Does she calm things down or cause more chaos? How does she get along with newer characters Tami (who she only knew a little) and Sandy? How does she react to Frank's dementia and death? Does she use her landlord skills and make Lip sign a damn lease before renting on a handshake deal?!

There's so much potential with this, but I just picked a few short scenes from season 11 to try and get a vibe!

--

“He can’t just kick you guys out,” Fiona insisted, following Lip through the house. He skirted the edge of the sofa on his way to the kitchen, and she almost ran into it. Only years of muscle memory and navigating her home in the dark—unpaid electric bills, drunken stupors, trying not to wake up the kids—kept her from banging her hip against the arm.

“He can,” Lip argued, passing through to the next room, “and he did.” He opened the fridge, looked at the beer cans inside. Closed it again, and got a glass of water from the tap instead.

“Sold it right out from under us,” he said bitterly into the glass. “New owners want us out before they close.

Fiona watched him take a sip, make a face and swallow it. Then she slapped the back of his head, hard, and grabbed the water before he could drop it.

“Listen to me,” she ordered as he scowled, rubbing the injury. She leaned down to get on the same level, face to disgruntled face. “I was a landlord, remember?”

“Not a very good one,” Lip muttered, and flinched back when she raised her hand again. She lowered it when he put his own up in surrender.

“I was a landlord,” she repeated, then paused, lips twisting. “And one of the reasons I’m not anymore is cause of a family of squatters I couldn’t get rid of.”

“And?” Lip asked, eyebrows raised. “The fuck’s that got to do with anything?”

Fiona rolled her eyes.

“Thought you were supposed to be the smart one,” she said dryly, then, “If it was that easy to kick somebody out, don’t you think I would’ve done it?”

Lip frowned.

“I mean, sure,” he said slowly, working through the thought. “But we don’t even have a lease.”

“Neither did they, that’s for damn sure,” Fiona grumbled. She turned to lean back against the counter next to him, shoulder to broad shoulder. Both had held enough wait for a lifetime.

“Doesn’t matter,” she told him. “That you don’t have a lease, I mean.”

She turned her head, looked at him.

“The eviction process isn’t as quick as people think.”

Lip’s brow furrowed as he glanced up at her.

“Are you…” Lip trailed off, started again. “Are you telling me to make him take us to court?”

Fiona smiled.

I’m telling you you might as well fight for it,” she said. “You’re broke anyway; what have you got to lose?”

---

“Can you believe her?” Debbie spit out, slamming the cabinet door shut. She stood, holding a box of cake mix, and set it down so hard on the counter that Fiona’s drink almost tipped over.

“Believe what?” Fiona asked, scooting back just in case. “That she left?”

Debbie glared.

“No, not that,” she said. “I told her to leave, remember?”

“What then?” Fiona took a sip of her beer, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the counter once she deemed it safe again.

“That she just abandoned her kid,” Debbie said. “Left him all alone, no mother, no nothing, just so she could go live a little.”

Oh. Fiona frowned.

“Debs…” she stared, swirling the dregs of beer left in the bottom of the bottle. She looked back up at her sister, down again to shield herself from the heat Debbie let off.

“I don’t think that’s what happened.”

“How can you say that?” Debbie asked, loud, angry. “You of all people know what it’s like to be…to be abandoned!”

Debbie bent down to grab a heavy metal bowl, slammed that down, too. The sound echoed, ringing through the quiet room. By the time it faded, she had too.

“It’s not the same, is it?” Debbie asked quietly, and Fiona shook her head.

“No,” she answered, just as soft. “No, it’s not.”

“Guess I should talk to her,” Debbie whispered, flat. Defeated.

“Probably,” Fiona agreed, then stood.

“Spend some time with Franny, first,” she suggested on her way toward the stairs, looking back in time to meet Debbie’s eyes as she lifted them.

“You’ve done a good job with her, you know,” Fiona said, and smiled. “I’m really proud of you”

And then she walked up the steps, and left Debbie to her thoughts.

---

“What—Mickey?” Fiona asked, passing her brother’s husband in the doorway. He was scowling, shoulders squared, stomping through the door and outside.

“You’re brother’s an asshole,” he answered shortly, and then he was gone.

Fiona watched him go. Then she went straight through the house, and out the back door, to where she knew Ian waited.

Sure enough, the door opened onto his stiff back, and she slipped out without a word. Sat down next to him, there on the stairs, and stole the cigarette from his hand.

“Thought you were trying to be healthier,” she asked, taking a long drag.

He reached for it, and she passed it back, their fingers brushing.

“Yeah, well,” he said, just staring at the glowing end of the stick. “Not much point in that if I can’t even afford to pay the bills next month.”

That again. Fiona sighed.

“We’ll be okay, you know,” she tried, but Ian waved her off before she could finish.

“We’d be better if he’d get a damn job.”

Fiona nodded.

“Sure,” she said, “we might be.” The filter of the cigarette was burning low, close to Ian’s fingers, so she took it again and threw it under her shoe.

“But are you willing to give everything up on a maybe?”

Ian looked at her.

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged, leaned into him. He was as tall as her, now, and her head slotted perfectly onto his shoulder.

“You’ve got the closest thing to happiness any of us have ever seen,” she said, looking out over the yard. She picked absently at the step she sat on, prying up thin splinters and smoothing them back down again.

“Maybe you should just let yourself have it, for a while.”

Ian was silent. But he reached an arm up around her back, let her in closer. Rested his chin on her head.

“You think so?” he finally asked, so quiet she barely heard it.

She rested a hand on his knee, squeezed it. Breathed out.

“I really do.”

---

“Oh my god, Liam, where have you been?”

Fiona was on him the moment he got through the door, long arms scooping him into a hug so tight she grunted with the effort.

“I was so worried,” she said, pulling back, hands gently but firm as they found his face. “You can’t just disappear like that, Liam, I sent everyone out to look for you hours ago!”

“You noticed?” Liam asked, his young face scrunched, and Fiona shook him, then folded him back into her arms.

“Of course I noticed, you little asshole,” she muttered into his hair, pressing her cheek against springy strands. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Liam shrugged, his shoulders barely moving in her tight embrace.

“Everybody is so busy,” he said. “Trying to figure stuff out.”

“So?” Fiona asked, still holding him, hands smoothing down the back of his hand-me-down shirt. “Why does that mean you get to wander off without telling me?”

“Gotta figure out my stuff too, don’t I?” he answered, quiet, sad, and Fiona let go of him to crouch down. She looked him in the eyes, brushing a hand over his soft hair, and forced him to meet her gaze.

“You’re a kid,” she said firmly. “What do you need to figure out that you can’t come to me for?”

“Where to live, for one,” Liam said, looking away, and Fiona frowned.

“What do you mean?” she asked. “You’ll come live with me.”

His eyes widened, and she hesitated.

“Do you…” She paused, swallowed. “Do you not want that?”

Liam just blinked. Then smiled, bright and relieved, and buried his head down on her shoulder in all the answer she needed.

---

“Hey, You okay?” Fiona asked, coming up behind Carl where he stood staring at Frank’s ashes on the mantel. She put a hand up on his shoulder, rubbed once, twice.

“Course I am,” Carl answered, all swagger and false confidence. “Frank was an asshole.”

Fiona hummed.

“He was,” she agreed. “But he was our asshole. And I know you two used to be close.”

“Nobody was close to Frank,” Carl muttered bitterly. “They just thought they were.”

A beat passed, tense, quiet. Then Carl’s shoulders sagged.

“Not like he was the same Frank anymore, anyway,” he said softly.

Fiona stepped closer, a warm presence at his side.

“Does that make it easier?” she asked. “Or harder?”

Carl shrugged.

“Neither, I don’t think,” he answered, then his face scrunched, the way it used to when his brothers made him think to hard. “Just feel like it’s wrong to still be mad at him, you know? He didn’t even remember all the shit he did, at the end.”

Fiona looked at him, and smiled sadly.

“That’s okay,” she said simply. “I’m still mad, too.”

After another moment, she leaned in, kissed the side of his head.

“Time to get to work though,” she said, “we can be as maudlin as you like when you get back.”

“What’s that mean?” Carl asked, following her into the kitchen, and she laughed as she dug his packed lunch out from the back of the fridge.

“I’ll tell you later,” she said, “but right now, work mister!”

Carl accepted the answer, and his lunch. Then, as Fiona grabbed her keys off the counter, the ones to her new SUV, he said, “I’m thinking of quitting, you know.”

Fiona didn’t hesitate, shoving him toward the door.

“That’s fine,” she said, slamming it shut behind them. “But until them, no brother of mine is going to be late!”

[ilkkawhat]

"How long have you had this planned?" "Since the moment I fell in love with you."

(For MacDalton)

[two things: one, this is like the first time I've written them in over three months so I apologize if I'm a bit rusty and two: I just straight up invented a new music venue for the sake of plot. I hope you enjoy Nade!!!]

If there’s one thing Jack’s learned in all of his years of knowing Angus Macgyver, it’s that for certain anniversaries; be it birthdays, deathdays, randomly constituted holidays mostly created on Jack’s behalf such as Bruce Willis’ birthday or the day Die Hard premiered in theaters, it’s that Mac is very...picky when it comes to his sentiments.

He loves a good party, sure, but doesn’t necessarily enjoy birthdays—at least his own, because he still always puts forth effort for others’ to ensure they have a good time.

He believes in Santa Claus, with what he thinks is irrefutable scientific proof, but doesn't believe in the other innocent childish entities such as the Tooth Fairy or the Easter Bunny, agreeing with Jack that the Tooth Fairy is nothing more than a unwanted home invader in the form of a lying parent and the Easter Bunny is just downright made to terrify children with mall photos.

Hell, he at times even downplays the importance of Cairo Day, willing to work instead of lazing around the deck with a six pack and bags of takeout delivered by Jack himself—and while there really was an emergency this time around that left both of them bruised and battered and shaken with the sight of a gutshot Bozer, it ended up being the perfectly bided time for something he’s had planned for, well...for a long while, now.

That, and he’ll be able to kill two birds with one stone, embarking on a road trip to find a long lost father that he already knew Jack would join him on before he even said a single word, and in turn take Jack on a trip he never quite expected to have. One without any hiccups, not even an improvisation. Perfectly planned and tailored to the man he both owes his life to, and wants to devote his life to.

He asks Jack to take a pit stop on their cross-country road trip—immediately dispelling Jack’s insistence of hitting up the casinos in Vegas with teasing argument that he’d lose all of their money for food and gas no matter how many times Jack explains that he knows the “system,” but once their banter fades back into the comfortable silence, he directs Jack past the state of Nevada and into the southerner’s own home state—the Lonestar state.

“Texas? You really think Daddy Mac might be hiding in a hole in Texas?”

Mac shrugs coyly and Jack grins.

“Don’t matter anyhow, been wantin’ to take you back down here anyway. Mama’s missed having a scrawny kid to cook for,” Jack teases with a wink.

“Well good, cause we gotta swing by your casa and pick somethin’ up real quick,” Mac puts on a faithful imitation of the Texan’s accent, and Jack beams.

“Going native, huh, hoss? What do we gotta pick up?”

“Your guitar.”

“My guitar?” Jack’s eyes narrow behind the large yellow lens of his aviators and gives up trying to ask why because Mac keeps his lips sealed.

They just keep driving instead, down a long country road with the appropriate tunes to accompany this feeling; Mac’s hair flowing in the wind, Jack casually driving with one hand on the wheel and the other on Mac’s knee, a wide grin on both of their faces as they watch the sun set and the beautiful unseen stars in the sky rise out to greet them.

And a robot in the backseat, but he’s smart enough to know when to stay quiet and just enjoy the moment.

They make it to Jack’s home, an intended short visit turns into almost an entire day and while Mac is never the one to make excuses to leave, he tries to come up with as many as he can to make it to their destination on time.

Fortunately, he also got Mama Dalton and Jack’s sister in on it too, which does make it just a little easier and Mac promises that they’ll come back on the way home after nearly having to drag Jack out of the beloved ranch home.

He won’t be so grumpy once he sees what I got planned, Mac has to remind himself, because his light layer of deception does hurt him as much as it hurts Jack.

Another reason he wasn’t a fan of the “surprise” element of having a birthday. There’s an almost malicious level of teasing to making sure the birthday boy or girl doesn’t suspect a thing.

But he knows Jack, and knows he has to be suspecting something, evident by his sudden bitterness in their usually laid back banter.

“You’re just getting tired of driving is all,” Mac tries to reason with him.

“Me? I ain’t tired. You’re the one who’s tired, want me to tuck you in the back?” Jack sneers.

“How am I supposed to give you directions then?”

“I got Spanky back there—”

“Sparky.”

“Whatever. And where is it that we’re going anyway, Mac?”

“Up there,” Mac smiles when he sees the building in the distance, the GPS on his phone indicating they’re only mere minutes away.

“Wuh—No. No!” Jack gapes and Mac burst out in glee. “What are we doing at the Armadillo II?”

The Armadillo II, being a freshly renovated bar and music hall was built as an homage to the Amradillo World Headquarters, which Jack often talked about having gone to as a young kid, wishing it had lasted longer before being turned into an office building—something he often compared to the transition of childhood to adulthood itself.

“Beer and music, what else would you do?”

“Yeah, but I mean, how does this relate to…”

“It doesn’t. It’s just for you. For us,” Mac grips Jack’s hand and gently kisses him on the cheek. “Making up for Cairo Day.”

“Aw, gee, Mac,” Jack’s eyes are glistening, his teeth shining under the bright moonlight in the brightest smile. “You shouldn’t have!”

They’re greeted by a bouncer who holds up a hand to Jack’s chest as he was ready to strut his way in.

“Tickets,” the bouncer grunts.

“Ah, damn, don’t have ‘em on me, but I know the owner—” Jack starts to ramble, ready to sneak their way in but surprisingly, Mac has two ticket stubs.

“Where’d you get those?”

“From my pocket,” Mac says simply and pushes Jack into the building.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the concert will begin in fifteen minutes, please fill you drinks and take your seats!”

“Concert, what concert?” Jack shouts as he takes in the room, taking the chair closest to the door at the table that Mac directs them to.

“See that banner?” Mac nods up to the stage.

Willie Nelson.

Jack knew of course, that Willie Nelson would occasionally come out for a concert or two, usually to fundraise for his acts of activism—and even if he couldn’t attend he’d always try to send some money for the cause, but never, and he really means never in his right mind did he ever think this would happen.

“I love you, Mac,” Jack breathes, and the concert begins.

A few songs in, Willie slows down to a gentle strum on his guitar, and the lights dim to match an intimate, romantic atmosphere.

“Now, this next song is called ‘A Song for You,’ although, it is my honor to make a slight alteration to the title for one of our country’s greatest unsung heroes. A guy with a name that sounds like it’d be on the menu at Carl’s Junior came up to me on the street the other day—”

The crowd laughs at the name joke, and so does Mac but Jack’s jaw is hung open, no sound coming out which makes Mac laugh even harder because he knows it’s all coming together.

“He told me his story, their story and well, now it’s my turn to tell y’all that story too. This here is a song for you, Jack Dalton.”

“No. Fucking. Way!” Jack breathlessly gasps, his fingers shaking, his eyes watery and red. Mac puts his hand on Jack’s knee, and Jack sandwiches it with his own. It’s not until the song is over that he’s able to speak again, wiping the tears from his eyes as the crowd applauds.

“When the hell didja manage to talk to Willie Nelson?”

“On my way back from Siberia. Made a pit stop.”

“And now, it’s my greatest pleasure to welcome onto the stage, the man himself—”

“Mac…” Jack starts slapping, clawing at Mac is if to bring him back to life because this sure as hell feels like he’s died and gone to heaven—though he knows, and Mac knows, that will never happen.

Jack Dalton will never die.

And even if he did, he’d never go into that light without Mac by his side, and because of that, because they’re alive, they both feel unstoppable, almost youthfully immortal in that sense—if they were going to die, they would have kicked the bucket by now, surely.

“Come on up here, Jack!” Willie calls and Jack just cannot believe it, especially not when that same bouncer comes up behind him holding his own guitar that he had stashed away in the back of his GTO.

“How long have you been planning this?” Jack asks wildly as he rises from his seat.

“Since the moment I fell in love with you,” Mac replies, and rises with him, sending him to the stage after a good luck kiss. “Which was basically when you played Willie Nelson every day in the Sandbox.”

[xpao-bearx]

《Original post here》

Part 2 HERE

SUMMARY: [Supernatural TWD AU] In which Negan is a kinky incubus, Rick Grimes is your secret guardian angel, and Daryl Dixon is a gruff monster/demon hunter. Three drastically different men who can only agree on one thing: making you theirs.

PAIRINGS: Reader x Negan, Reader x Rick Grimes, Reader x Daryl Dixon (Polyamorous Ships)

RATING: Mature/18+/Romance & Smut. Please be prepared and do NOT report.

NOTE: This is actually my first time ever writing an xReader story series as well as writing on Tumblr (I usually only write on Wattpad). As such, it probs won't be perfect though I would SERIOUSLY appreciate your *respectful* feedback and support!

I understand writing xReader content can get a lil tricky, so please just keep in mind that not everything Y/N says or does would be something that you'd do IRL or even approve of. Also, sometimes I may not help but put a teeny bit of myself in Y/N...

Lastly, I recently got back into the TWD fandom after a looong ass time and I'm taking a while re-watching the whole show. So I apologize in advance if my portrayal of any of the characters are rusty or I may not remember too much of the events from the show, but I promise to do my very best and hope y'all enjoy~!! \(^o^)/

DEDICATED TO: The wonderful @blccdyknuckles and @negans-attagirl 💖

"Heavenly Sins"

Part 1

The sounds of laughter and easygoing chatter filled your ears as you walked closer to the church, a light breeze blowing through your F/C floral dress and the sun blinding your eyes. It was Sunday, most residents of the small town of Alexandria having gathered for mass.

It was a day like any other; peaceful and happy, children giggling and chasing each other around as their parents socialized outside before church could start.

Your heels clacking rhythmically on the pavement, you were just about to enter the building before a familiar voice called out.

"Y/N!"

Spinning, a huge smile instantly reached your ears as you saw none other than Carl Grimes waving enthusiastically at you as he jumped out of a car. From the driver's seat, his father soon followed as he stepped out.

Rick Grimes--dedicated sheriff of this fine town. His usual uniform forgone, instead replaced with a casual navy coloured suit. His baby blues met your E/C, flashing you a bright smile of his own that rivalled the sun itself.

Carl was running towards you now, and once in front he gave you a big hug.

"Settle down, cowboy! It's as if you haven't seen me in forever." You chuckled, ruffling Carl's hair affectionately.

"That's 'cause it did feel like forever." Carl pouted, eventually letting go as he looked up at you.

Before you can reply, Rick patted Carl's head and greeted you. "Hey, Y/N. How are things?" He asked in that endearing Southern accent of his.

"Just fine." You nodded, grinning before you couldn't help but let your gaze wander around a bit. "No Judith?"

It was then that Rick's smile faltered, but just barely. You nearly didn't catch it. "No. She's with her mom."

Rick was divorced from his ex-wife, Lori, after he discovered her cheating on him with his also now ex-bestfriend Shane Walsh. After the divorce, Shane and Lori quickly moved to the neighbouring community of Woodbury together and agreed on joint custody of the kids.

It really made your blood boil; you've interacted with Lori only a few times before so you didn't really have much of an opinion on her...that is, until, you learned what had happened between her and Rick. You knew it wasn't any of your business, but you cared about Rick a lot and he sure as hell didn't deserve to get cheated on.

"Oh." Was all you could say, quite stupidly. Your cheeks reddened, mentally slapping yourself before clearing your throat. "Will I see her in the daycare tomorrow, though?" You were a daycare teacher and even though you loved all of the kids, Judith was your favourite. She was simply such a sweetheart.

Rick nodded, his smile softening. "You got it."

You couldn't continue the conversation as the bells rang, making you jump out of your skin. Carl, noticing this, laughed which made you playfully roll your eyes before slinging an arm around him as all of you went inside.

♡♡♡

You took your place near the back of the church with Carl and Rick. Once everyone was settled and done singing, the service began and Father Gabriel stood on top of the podium. A few minutes into his sermon, the interruption of a motorcycle revving loudly outside sliced through the air. Gabriel flinched in surprise, and it was obvious he was desperately trying to keep his cool. Finally, when it was silent again, you found yourself biting back a smile knowing all too well who had caused the ruckus.

It seems Rick knew, too, judging from how his jaw clenched and his hands turned into tight fists.

The doors were thrown open, making Gabriel flinch once more and some of the congregation turning in the pews to look. But poor Gabriel quickly fumbled with his Bible, raising his voice just a tad to regain their attention.

There was a low whistle accompanying the approaching footsteps, but the congregation did their damn hardest to ignore the latest visitor.

"Damn... I assumed the church would be a lot more welcoming than this." A husky voice whispered, and you at last couldn't hold back as a smile broke through.

"Negan." You whispered back, turning slightly in your seat to see he has taken the spot behind you. His leather clad arms lackadaisically resting on your chair, the musky scent of his cologne invading your senses oh so wonderfully. "Fancy seeing you here."

"What? Is it really that surprising, darlin'?" He grinned, presenting a row of perfectly straight white teeth. "I go to church."

"Not all the time." You pointed out.

"Ah..." He chuckled softly, hazel eyes twinkling. "That's 'cause Father Creepy McGee over there is just that. Creepy. As. Shit."

You bit the inside of your cheeks, suppressing your laughter. True, Gabriel did have his moments, but he wasn't that bad. That didn't change the fact that Negan knew exactly how to tickle your funny bone, though.

He was new to Alexandria. It was a lovely town, but since it was relatively small not a lot of people want to move here not unless it was families looking for their children to grow up in a safe environment. Which was why it was quite a shock to find out that a single man like Negan chose this destination, and even more so when he took everyone aback with his infamous pottymouth and rather inappropriate charisma.

He had moved just a couple of houses down from yours, and you made it your mission to befriend him. Right from the get-go, he had piqued your interest and curiousity. He was different from everyone else--even possessing an air of mystery about him--and that definitely intrigued you. And also, perhaps you were just too nice and didn't want him to feel outcasted. Although, that didn't seem like an issue to him at all.

"Want one?" You were brought back to reality when you saw Negan's hand outstretched with a pack of cigarettes.

"Dude, we're in church." You reprimanded, frowning.

Negan didn't say anything, only cocking a brow and still with that same shit-eating grin. You sighed, finally giving in as you swiftly grabbed one and stashed it away in your purse for later.

"Y/N." You turned to the left, Rick's icy gaze piercing you. "Pay attention."

"R-Right. Sorry..." You mumbled sheepishly.

Carl, who was sitting in the middle of you and Rick, had dozed off. Rick nudged him, but the brunette only groaned softly and snuggled into Rick's chest. Defeated, the sheriff sighed and was just about to listen again to Gabriel before Negan cut in.

"Rick!" Negan purposely raised his voice, knowing it would get a rise out of the other man. "Didn't even see ya there. Howdy, cowboy!"

Rick grimaced, and it looked like he was just going to ignore Negan though he knew that if he did that then Negan would just irritate him even further. "Good to see you, Negan." He forced himself to say.

"Only you can say that while giving me such a deadly side eye, Grimes." Negan snickered. "How have you been? How's the wife?"

Rick flushed, his fists in a tight ball again and it looked like his nails would be digging into his skin. You abruptly swung into action, placing a hand on Rick's own.

"Rick..." You said gently. "It's okay. Calm down."

Rick did, his shoulders drooping as if a heavy weight had been lifted. He can barely pay any attention to Gabriel now, then you suddenly stood up and grabbed Negan's arm.

"We need to talk. Now."

"What, we going for a quickie?" Negan smirked, but that soon faded when he saw your serious expression. He sighed dramatically, reaching his full height as he towered over you before following you out.

At this point, you didn't care if people saw what transpired or would even start gossiping. No one, not even Negan, was allowed to harass Rick. He has helped you through so much shit--more than you'd like to admit--and you at least owed him this much.

Once outside, next to where Negan parked his motorcycle, you exploded. "What the fuck is with you?! You leave Rick alone, or I swear to fucking Christ I will--"

"Woah, woah, woah! Hold your horses, missy!" Negan guffawed, his hands up in mock surrender. "I mean, I like 'em feisty, but goddamn! Watch your fucking language."

"Tch. You're one to talk."

"Did you just scoff at me?" He raised his brows, putting his hands in his pockets as he slowly drew closer to you. A devilish grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, tilting his head slightly. "No one's ever fucking scoffed at me and didn't regret it soon after."

You frowned, letting out a huff as you met his gaze challengingly. "As if you'd do anything to me."

He was silent for several moments before chuckling, leaning back against his motorcycle. "You're right. I have too much of a soft spot for ya." He pulled out a cigarette, lighting it then taking a drag. He drew his head upwards, puffing out the smoke. "Whaddya say we just forgive and forget? I truly am sorry. You can even tell Rick that I am metaphorically down on my goddamn knees begging for forgiveness~"

"I'm not forgiving or forgetting anything until you actually face Rick and apologize yourself." You muttered. And without another word, you spun on your heel and strutted back inside the church with your head held high.

Negan's intent stare lingered where your ass had just been, taking another long drag and letting out a small laugh to himself.

His eyes suddenly glowed a crimson red, a smirk playing on his lips.

Oh, he really did pick a GREAT one.

[walkerwords]

“Ultimatum” Spencer Monroe x F!Reader

Request: from @thanossexual​  how do you feel about Spencer x Reader where Y/n puts him in his place. Like when he tries to rebel she shuts his shit down. she understands his frustrations though because he lost everyone so she reassures him and tells him to give Rick and his group one more chance

Word Count: 1603

Warning: Swearing

Song I Wrote To: “Don’t Blame Me” by Taylor Swift

Note: Short little thing that was requested by Dori. For future Spencer stories I may need to go rewatch his episodes to get his character right :) Also I kind of made the reader a bit cold, but I do like the way this turned out. 

--------

Spencer Monroe was seeing red. 

Entering his home, he paced around the living room, trying to calm down, but the rage remained simmering in his chest. His whole family was gone and it was all their fault, it was Rick’s fault.

If they had never come to Alexandria, there would have never been so much death. His father was dead, his brother was dead, and now his mother. He still couldn’t get the image of her walking around, her white eyes glazed over as the virus raged through her undead body. For so long, he had accepted that they were untouchable within the walls of their sanctuary. Now, he wasn’t so sure, especially with men like Rick Grimes. 

With a shout of rage, Spencer went to the desk in the corner and opened the second drawer on the left. When he found it empty, he froze. 

“Looking for this?” you said from behind him. Spencer whirled around to see you leaning in the entranceway, his gun dangling from your hand. 

“Give it to me,” he said, stepping forward, but you shook your head, placing it behind your back. 

“No,” you said, standing your ground. 

“(Y/N)…” he said, already too tired for an argument. You, however, were as alert as can be and ready to take him down a few notches. 

“Are you going to kill Rick?” you asked calmly. 

“I’m thinking about it,” Spencer said, annoyed. He never got angry with you. Even if he felt it bubbling up inside him, he went outside and took it out on the wall or just ended up internalizing it fully. You were the opposite. When you were pissed, you tended to either go kill the Dead or take it out on anyone who lit your flame. You weren’t proud of it, but you had survived this long without having to be nice all the time. 

However, the way your boyfriend was acting right now was going to get him killed. “Baby,” you began, “I love you, you know I do, but you are being a complete moron right now.” 

“Excuse me?” he asked, taken aback. 

“If you go after Grimes, if you try to shoot him, you will be dead before you can even pull the damn trigger. Daryl will have a bolt between your eyes in a matter of seconds or Carol will try to take your head off with a spoon. Hell, I bet that kid of his would gut you without even thinking. Not gonna lie, Carl scares the shit out of me and I’m not too proud to admit that.”

“He killed my mother,” Spencer argued. 

“No, he didn’t. Deanna died from a Walker. This world killed her,” you reminded him. Spencer scoffed at your use of the colloquialism used by the “invaders”. 

“God, you even sound like them,” Spencer said in annoyance. “Calling them ‘Walkers’, what the hell does that even mean?”

“I thought it was pretty self-explanatory…” you said under your breath, but he wasn’t listening. 

“If these people had never come here…”

“Then the Walkers in the quarry would have. You saw it the same day I did, Spencer. Those trucks were not going to hold. I have seen large herds since the start of this, but I have never seen anything remotely close to that monstrosity. We are lucky that Grimes was here to help us!” “You’re taking his side!” he bellowed. 

“Stop it!” you countered. “There are no sides, Spence. We need to survive and whether you liked it or not, Rick Grimes is the best at it. I have been on the outside, I have seen what happens when people are not strong enough. I was almost like those people until I finally learned the rules of the new world. You know that I care about you, but you need to start learning them too.”

“My family was alive before they got here, (Y/N),” he reminded you.

“What happened to your father was tragic,” you said softer this time, remembering when Pete had killed Reg. “I am so sorry about him and your mother. Then with what happened to Aidan...it was horrible, but we both know that he shouldn’t have been out there. None of you should be out there when you don’t want to acknowledge how the new world works. We are no longer at the top of the food chain, the Dead are. It is their world and we just have to live in it.” 

Spencer stared at you and you watched as the fire slowly faded from his eyes. You began to relax a bit more. Though, you knew he wasn’t done. “What do you expect me to do, (Y/N)?”

“I want you to try,” you nearly begged. “You don’t like Rick? Fine. How about Glenn or Maggie? Hell, even Daryl, though I am pretty sure he wants to punch you in the face, so maybe not. Just try.”

“And if I don’t?” he challenged, crossing his arms. 

“Then,” you paused, trying to get your nerve, “then, I’m done. I’ll move into one of the vacant houses and you and I will be finished.” 

“What? Why?” he asked, completely struck.

“Because you are letting your emotions cloud your judgment! This world is not so fucking simple anymore, Spencer. I have been trying for months to make you all see the new world and you have refused to listen to me. What do you think is going to happen? Do you think that one day everything is going to magically revert back to normal?” 

“Of course not!”

“Then why won’t you acknowledge it? Please, Spencer,” you said as you went to him, dropping the empty gun on the table. You took his hands in yours, unfolding his arms. “I need you to start understanding where I am coming from because I will not lose you. I’ve already lost enough.” Spencer held your hands back, keeping firm pressure. He looked down into your eyes and his shoulders dropped fully. 

“I didn’t know you felt this way,” Spencer said. 

“You never asked,” you pointed out, lifting one of your hands to rest against his neck. You had met Spencer when Eric had dragged your half dead body through the gates of Alexandria five months before. A group had robbed you and left you without food or water for days and you were desperate for help. When Eric had found you, he hadn’t hesitated to help. It was shortly after that when Spencer introduced himself and there was something about him that just clicked with you. 

However, while you knew that there was that connection, you also knew that you couldn’t just sink into the relationship without keeping your reservations. No matter how you felt about Spencer, there was always one person you had to care about above all else and that was yourself.

You had lost too much, seen too much death, and fought too hard to not fight for your own survival. You were now only hoping that he would fight to survive alongside you. 

Spencer leaned into you, feeling the firm pressure of your hand against his neck. Your eyes were locked together as you urged him to see what you were thinking and feeling at that moment. With a sigh, Spencer covered your hand with his. “Can I have my gun back, please?” he asked. 

“Are you going to talk to Rick?” you asked. 

“I can start with Maggie,” he compromised. 

“Good,” you said as you turned to pick up the gun and pressed it into his hand. A sort of peace offering. You leaned up and kissed him softly, feeling the stubble on his cheek scratch against your own. 

“Were you really going to leave me?” Spencer asked when you pulled back. 

“I told you when we met that I wasn’t going to let this world beat me, Spence. I meant it,” you said.

“What am I supposed to do with that?” he asked, cupping your face with his calloused hands. You could feel the bump that was on his finger where he rested it against the trigger of his rifle. 

“I don’t know, but that is how I feel and I promised I would always be honest with you,” you said. 

“I don’t like ultimatums,” he said. 

“Don’t think of it as one. It’s a necessity. Either get along with the people who will fight to survive or be willing to die alone,” you said and you knew it sounded cold, but he needed to hear it. Spencer Monroe wasn’t a man who needed to be coddled, he responded well to the truth and you were willing to be the sounding board for that. 

“(Y/N)…,” he started.

“I promised my mom that I wasn’t going to be weak and I stand by that,” you reminded him. 

“Which is why I love you,” he said easily. 

“Then try to understand me. Hear me,” you nearly begged.

“I do, and I am going to try. I promise,” he said, leaning his forehead against yours.

“I don’t expect you to be Van Helsing, but try to see it through my eyes,” you said. 

“Yes, Ma’am,” he promised. 

“Thank you.”

“I love you so much,” Spencer said. 

“I love you, too,” you said as you pulled him in for another kiss, finally feeling like the two of you were getting somewhere. You didn’t always see eye to eye, but perhaps now a compromise could be made. When he pulled back again, he was grinning. “What?” you asked him. 

“Van Helsing hunted vampires,” he whispered. 

“Oh, shut up.”

@thanossexual​ @yes-sir-hotchner​  @felicisimor @lucillethings​

[headoverhiddles]

Wrapped In Plastic - Marilyn Manson x Reader [Smut]

Synopsis: The new kid at school intrigues you. He’s infatuated too, but beneath that scary exterior, you’ve got no idea what’s in store. 

Notes: Era: Spooky Kids! Requested by anon: “High school Brian having a crush on you.”

There he is, sitting in front of the principal again. Brian Warner. You're surprised he hasn't been expelled yet, frankly, even though he just moved here to South Florida recently.

You watch from afar, sitting with your friends. He's making that face. That expression... or lack of expression. He doesn't give a fuck what he got in trouble for, and you, he and the principal know it.

"Hey. (y/n)," your best friend says, "What the hell? Are you listening?"

"Yeah," you mutter, glancing back into the office. God, he would probably fuck like an animal, taking you in some old haunted forest somewhere while spanking you and telling you you're his dirty little slut...

Your friend scoffs when she sees where you're looking.

"That guy is dangerous, quit fantasizing. That isn’t your picture perfect bad boy-- that’s like dating the next Son of Sam killer.”

Your other friend chimes in. “My sister told me she saw him and his pack of weirdos out lighting an abandoned house on fire. My sister’s friend said she hears him jerking off in the washroom every lunch hour. The whole school knows about it. Also apparently in creative writing, he turned in this story about this guy fucking his sister's corpse or something. Seriously weird, probably evil. He's gonna end up in jail, mark my words." You ignore your friend, but turn back into the conversation.

Eventually, the principal gives up, dismissing him. You see Brian join his friends outside the office door, who have been waiting-- Jeordie and Stephen, you think you've heard them called in class. The one with the brown comb-over is called Pogo outside of class, because of his fascination with serial killers. You think it's funny. Those guys just do whatever they want. 

Your breath hitches. Brian tucks his long black hair behind his ear, looking up and grinning at his friends. He's describing what he did, and he looks like a gleeful child who just got away with murder as the other two bust out laughing and dig for details. How could anyone think he's evil? 

Cold chills run through your body as he meets your eyes. Oh, fuck. He smirks a little bit your way, but you quickly look away. His features harden, and he turns back to his friends. You turn back to yours.

You can't help watching after him as he walks down the hall to fourth period, though... his head nearly reaches the ceiling, and that metal Planet Of The Apes lunchbox makes you smile. You've heard him make a threat or two to beat someone's ass with it, and you believe he'd do it. For every bully who promised him he'd be nothing, there's something about him that promised so much more.

--

The bell goes, and Brian sits down at the desk. 

"She was looking at you." 

"Yeah, she was talking to her friends about me," Brian mutters back.

"She looked like she was wetting her panties over you," Jeordie grins, "She looks like she wanted to suck your dick right there in front of Mr. Ogilvie!"

"That'd be the day," Brian sighs. 

"Yeah, you'd have beat off material forever," Pogo laughs.

"But she wasn't," he said, "You guys are just fucking blind."

"I don't know, I got some blow job vibes from her,” Pogo says. 

“You get blow job vibes from everyone.” 

“I’ll blow you for lunch money,” Jeordie mentions. Pogo shrugs. 

“I might take you up on that.” His obnoxious laughter rings out as you walk by the door. You recognize it immediately, and look back. Brian’s sitting there, knees tucked under the desk like his legs won’t fit. Shit. In your experience, being this preoccupied with someone meant you were into them... or at least, wanted to see more of them. 

Brian looks up again, and sees you staring at him. This time, he frowns. You’re drawn away by your friend, who pulls you toward your next class. As you're walking, someone calls your name.

“Hey! (y/n), right?” 

You turn as your friend keeps walking ahead. You scoff slightly as he approaches. “Like you don’t know my name.” You pause, backtrack. “I- sorry. That was mean."

“That’s okay. I’ve been known to be a little mean too,” he smirks, and he flips his hair out if his face. “I guess when you hang around a bunch of catty bitches all the time, it rubs off on you.” His voice is so deep and calm. It throws you off whenever he speaks, but does other things to you as well.

"Hanging out with a pair of delinquents can do the same." Your eyes dart inside the classroom to his friends, who are carving something into a desk. He gives a small smile.

"Touché."

“Speaking of rubbing off,” you raise an eyebrow, “Did you want to talk to me?”

He blushes, then forces his embarrassment away. “That rumor’s not true.”

“No?”

“Nah. I did light that abandoned house on fire though.” He grins, and you do as well, hugging your books closer to your chest. 

“So. You’re a rebel, huh?”

“If not putting up with everybody’s bullshit counts as rebelling, then yeah. I guess so.”

“I can respect that,” you nod. “I feel the same way... but I’m not as fearless as you.”

“Are you saying you might commit arson with me, (y/n)?” 

“Maybe. How did the conversation progress to lighting things on fire with you?” 

He laughs, ducks his head nervously. “Well. Um, I saw you staring like a creep, and... I was wondering if you wanted to be creeps together. Y’know... hang out sometime? Come see my band, or...?”

“Are you asking me out?”

“Yeah, I am.”

You smile, poking his black shirt that read Christianity is Unnatural, Abnormal, and Perverse. “You’ve got balls, Brian.” You look at the clock, and back to his class. “What do you say we fuck off for the rest of the day?”

His eyebrows shoot up. “You wanna skip class today?”

“Sorry,” you walk your fingers up his chest. “I know I’m not quite at your level of rebellion yet, but it’s a start.” 

He laughs as he follows you to your locker. 

---

“So. Do you have a car?”

“No.” He scratches his head. “We can walk back to my house, though. My parents aren’t home.” 

Following that plan, you make it back to his house. For someone hailed as the Antichrist of the school, he's got a relatively normal looking home, white picket fence and everything. All that changes once you get to his room.

"Wow," you say, looking up at everything. He's got serial killer-like writing scrawled on the wall by his bed, lyrics that seem like they're straight out of a porno or a horror film, or both. There are pentagrams drawn on his bed posts, and posters of bands like Nine Inch Nails, Ozzy Osbourne, KISS on his walls.

"I know it's stupid, but I'd give anything to meet those guys," he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck.

"It's not stupid," you say, examining the edges of the posters, freyed from the move no doubt. "I actually think it's awesome. I love Ozzy."

"One day I'm gonna beat his record for most drugs consumed over a lifetime."

"Have you started practicing?" you tease.

"I... well, I haven't had the chance."

"Right. Let me know when you do." You smile, going over to sit on his bed. He looks down at you, seems to have a mini panic attack, then acts cool with it, playing with his lip ring and sitting beside you. You look around the messy floor. He's got a strange mix of stuff that oddly seems to perfectly fit his personality: leaking boxes of black hair dye, various lipsticks and nail polishes, a bag of weed, books on the rise of fascism and Carl Jung's red book, an antique-looking switchblade, a Willy Wonka hat, condoms with little angry faces drawn on them, an old deflated football with "FIGHT" written on it, and... "What's that?" you ask, leaning down. Brian coughs.

"Oh. Yearbook from last year."

You pick it up, looking at all the little drawings of candy, needles, Charles Manson and other doodles he's defaced the book with. "But you didn't go to this school last year."

"I traded my mom's diet pills for it."

"Huh. Hustling already. Must have been some good stuff." You hesitate. The page was open to the photos of you as the lead in the play last year. You smirk, pretending to squint. "Is that a cum stain I see on my face?"

"You wish," he huffs, but he's blushing, hair curtaining around his face. You give him a look, turning fully toward him.

"Why'd you really invite me over?"

"To tell you I hate you, knock you out, and bury you in my backyard." You laugh.

"I mean, if you think about it..."

"It's the perfect plan. Invite the girl you've got a crush on over, assume she's gonna make fun of you, lure her in, then get your revenge." You smile, laying back on his bed.

"You just admitted to having a crush on me."

"Wasn't it obvious?" he asks. "I only ever threaten to kill the people I really wanna fuck."

"And do you really wanna fuck me, Bri?" you ask coyly, crawling dangerously close to him. He swallows, Adam's apple bobbing in his long, graceful throat. "You wanna fuck me right here, right now, while your parents aren't home, make me scream your name while you blare your favorite metal record and act like things'll never change?"

"That sounds good," he groans. His hands wander up your thigh, and you smile, bouncing on his leg. "...I also wanna share my music with you. Read a book over your shoulder. Maybe pop a few pills, key someone's car, grab a milkshake and look at the stars on Special K so we feel like we're floating, you know. Before I bang the shit out of you. Date stuff."

"Is this not our first date?" you ask. His tongue flicks up over his lip ring again. 

"I guess you could say it is."

"Good. Cause I never fuck on a first date," you say, "Or so I tell people." He clenches his jaw, and braces a skinny arm beside your head, leaning down to capture your lips. His lips taste sweet, like mint and those sugary rocket candies. He takes his shirt off, and you rub your hands down, feeling a few scars. He lets out a whimpered noise at your touch, shuddering a little. 

You make out and grind against one another for a few minutes, your hands pulling his hips closer by his black belt loops and his fingers tangling your hair. Your breath gets faster as he grinds harder, more desperately, and you reach a hand down to help him out, give him something to rut against.

"You feel so big," you moan, and he runs a hand through his hair, lips falling open.

"I'm gonna..." He makes another desperate noise, and you feel it right where you need him. But since all his condoms in here seem to be used or have faces drawn on them in scented marker, you opt for over the clothes stuff only.

"Use your fingers?" you breathe. He looks like he's about to cum, and you know it'll tip you over as well, what with all the times you had thought of him like this.

He reaches into your jeans, unzipping them, and messily finds your clit. For a teenage guy, he's not bad. He starts to rub, then reaches three fingers down to thrust them into you.

"Fuck, Bri! Three?!" you breathe. He looks into your eyes, not stopping.

"I thought girls were whores for that kind of thing!"

"It's..." you moan, "That's... oh... y-yeah... Jesus...” He really start to work them in, watching your reactions while rutting his clothed erection against your leg. "Fuck, Brian, grab my tits... yeah... this is just how I imagined it when I..."

He freezes for a second, and his whole body convulses. He gasps, and you see him reach down to cover his crotch, face going beet red. He doesn't stop, though. He keeps fingering you, and now that he's not worried about grinding, he can explore you in other ways. He attaches his lips to your neck, and sucks a hickie right below your ear. 

“Brian... Bri, make me c--” 

"Cum for me, you filthy little slut," he snarls, and you arch your back up, grinding down into his fingers as your orgasm hits. You rock through it, and he kisses you again, sloppy and hot. When he pulls away, he gives you your fingers to lick clean, which you do through a heated stare.

Things calm down into you laying back against his pillows with his stringy body tucked in a cramped position beside you. "I didn't know you were that..." you search for words. "Experienced?" 

"What, you thought I was a virgin?” 

You giggle. “I didn’t know what to think about you, to be honest. Kinky, inexperienced, I had no idea. Of course, I hoped that you were kinky.”

“I’ve been known to use restraints when asked,” he smirks.

“I’ve got that to look forward to. I thought you were cute too, though. I don’t care if you’re some devil worshipper who parents and teachers everywhere shiver at the thought of." He's quiet for a second.

"I thought you were scared of me." 

"That too, a little bit. But what scares me turns me on." He rolls over to face you, a vulnerable position for him, you can tell. 

"The way I dress is what I perceive to be beautiful. Looking like this, doing what I want to, it keeps the assholes who like to give my face their own version of plastic surgery away if they think I'm a Satanist who's gonna... cut off their mom's head or something if they fuck with me. Makes the hypocrites who call themselves teachers question their morals too, ‘teaching’ someone like me to be a good little boy and follow society’s rules. It’s all brainwashing, everything they feed us with their sugar and shit, and I’m the bad guy for standing up to it." 

You stroke hair out of his face, and he looks up at you, lips pursed. "There’s always gotta be a scapegoat. I guess you fit that role.” You look beyond him. “You think it would ruin your image if those bullies found your poetry books?” He smiles. 

“Nah. One day, I’m gonna grow up to be a big rock and roll star. I’ll use my own poetry and turn it into music, and I’ll look ten times more extreme than I do now. Then they can all say they knew me, and I’ll tell them to go to hell.” 

You snuggle into him. "Mmm. Speaking of extreme... we should pull a Sandy and Danny. I'll come to school dressed all goth and shit Monday. Throw my friends for a loop."

"Does that mean I have to dress like a cheerleader?" he asks.

"You've got the ass for it."

He grins. "Stop it, you're making it very hard for me not to wanna fuck you for real right now."

"Here's the deal," you say, "I'll show you where I live this weekend. You tell me what your favorite fruit is, because that's a soul searching question. At that point we'll know each other better... and I'll be fair game."

He bites his lip. "I feel like I've known you forever."

"Yeah. Me too."

Just then, there's a knock at the bedroom door. Startled, you sit up quickly, and who you can only assume to be Brian's mom pops her head in. "When the fuck did you two get home?!" Brian blurts.

"About five minutes ago, honey. Don't worry, we didn't hear anything. Jeordie called, said he 'left the smoke bomb under the urinals.' I hope you aren't getting up to trouble like the last school, your father had a heck of a time getting you into this one.”

“Mom.”

“He had to switch jobs too, and with his back, you know how difficult long drives can be. Oh, how rude of me-- hello sweetie, you can call me Barb."

"Mom--" 

"Brian, is this the sweet thing you had that dream about the other night?"

"MOM!"

“Hugh, Brian’s got a girlfriend over, we should turn the TV up to give them a little privacy.” 

“GIRLFRIEND?!” a voice calls up, “GOOD ON YA, SON. THAT’S MY BOY!” 

“Jesus fucking Christ...” Brian groans, burying his face in a pillow. You laugh so hard into his chest you nearly tumble off his bed. Most dangerous guy in school, your ass.

[adultswim2021]

Space Ghost Coast to Coast #82: “Baffler Meal” | January 1, 2003 - 12:00 AM | S08E01

An all-time classic, wonderful episode. Ending 2002 on a high note (technically this is the first episode of 2003 being that it aired at midnight, but I’m delaying my EPHEMERA CORNER post for as long as I can).

The origins of Aqua Teen Hunger Force are laid bare for all to see with Baffler Meal. Aqua Teen Hunger Force was famously based on a rejected Space Ghost script. Well, this is that script, re-imagining the Aqua Teens based on old designs and concepts from that unproduced episode. The desired effect is to approximate what that episode would have been like had it been produced in 1999 before the Aqua Teen Hunger Force series proper was developed. It’s supposed to be confusing; to the point where in the DVD commentary track they even question weather or not they should make it clear within the commentary that that’s what’s going on here (they do).

I will now take this opportunity to quote one of my favorite synopses of a TV show ever, originally taken from tvtome (remember tvtome? god, what a great site):

Space Ghost is forced into a raw deal with the deadly Colonial Man, forever altering the future of classic rock - again. Willie Nelson and a MOCKERY of the Aqua Teen Hunger Force star in this episode. This episode mocks a great comedy show. It doesn't feel funny in the least.

Here you can see the lack of understanding for what the episode really is. Despite the fact that the ostensible Space Ghost fan (tvtome was run by volunteer submissions for it’s episode data) should one-thousand percent understand the Space Ghost connection, clearly recognize Dave Willis’ voice (he still voices Meatwad in a very similar manner), etc. The degree of confusion this episode caused can not be understated.

Nuggets from the DVD commentary:

Frylock is a guy in a costume in this. Okay, that wasn’t specifically from the DVD commentary, but it’s the first time I caught that detail, ever, and I don’t want to start a separate bullet-point list for stray observations.

Shake’s read of “blahd” instead of “blade” was inspired by a real typo in the script, just like “Branford the Branford” before it.

Todd Hanson of The Onion helped write this episode and kept pitching a character named Napkin Lad. I believe Napkin Lad actually comes to be later in the Aqua Teen series.

And another thing I love: The cool song at the end. The part where Dave is like “OH BABY, YEAH BABY” etc. towards the very end of the episode? That part gets stuck in my head like, VERY FREQUENTLY, and for years I thought it was Bob Odenkirk singing in either a Mr. Show or Ben Stiller Show sketch and have been trying to place it forever. Turns out it wasn’t Bob, but David, and I ain’t talkin’ Cross, do I sound cross to you? Do you even appreciate wordplay??

NEXT is my end-of-the-year roundup of second-run premieres, shorts, commercials, bumpers, etc. That’s right, EPHEMERA CORNER is back! But it’s gonna be a long one so I might break it up over the course of a few days, maybe a week, even.

MAIL BAG

I think these were all anonymous, please forgive me if I have, as the French say, “fucked up” by failing to name the conspirator.

2002 is almost over! What do you think brak's position on the iraq war was? Carl's? Hesh's? Junior addleburg's?

Brak: against, but respects the office of the presidency and urges using civil methods to protest. Carl: pro, he is a white supremacist and is supportive of any and all mass destruction committed on non-white nations. Hesh: HESH WANTS SOME SEX! lol. Junior Addleburg: has not been told about the war.

Do you think you are being overtly charitable to Brak this time around? Surely the best Brak show episode isnt even half as good as the worst Home Movies episode. Right?

I do tend to react to “better” Brak episodes the same way you encourage a problem student when they squeak out a B minus. There absolutely was a time when I loved The Brak Show and was all-in on it. That time was SEPTEMBER 2nd-8th, 2001. Hippo was certainly a factor. 9/11 may have also contributed.

I don’t think I’ve said this yet, but I’ve been keeping a running episode ranking of Adult Swim shows as I’ve been doing this. It’ll probably get revised at some point, so I’m not exactly ready to share it. In my ranking I tended to group Home Movies episodes very close to each other, and I would sometimes talk myself into ranking things a little higher or lower than I normally would just to break up a long streak of Home Movies. So I can actually say with impunity, yes, there are strong episodes of Brak Show that I've ranked over weaker episodes of Home Movies. But I might have to have a little chat with the man in the mirror about that.

Are you only doing animated shows or are you going to do live animated shows to. I feel like most people agree Tim and Eric bringing live-action to the block ruined it permanently even if you think those guys are funny in a vacuum. I'm just wondering because I know you did animation only for your Simpsons Night B-sodes so I feel you are a "tooned-in" guy.

Live-action is getting reviewed too! I can’t WAIT to revisit Saul of the Molemen. Are you fucking kidding me? I’m not sure where to draw the line on the internet stuff, though. If it aired on Adult Swim I’m very likely to cover it, but I don’t see myself covering the FishCenter repeats that aired at 4AM. Anime is generally getting the shaft. Sorry. I think it’d be cool if somebody started a blog that covered Adult Swim Action. But yes, you are right, I’m a pretty tooned-in guy. Lots of people have said this about me.

If you had to dress like any of the Adult Swim First Era characters for Halloween who would you dress as and who would you LIKE to dress as if difficulty of pulling it off wasn't an issue.

There was a Space Ghost muscle suit at one of those Halloween Stores one year and I very nearly bought it even though I had no intention of wearing it for Halloween. I did a very low-effort season 4 Hank Venture because by happenstance my hair looked like his at the time, and I found what looked like Brock’s jacket at a thrift store.

Putting on a blue Sealab uniform and only traveling in a chair with wheels would be real fun. I could probably pull of an effective Carl. As far a difficult costume I’d be the poolside announcer during the O.G. bumpers, because I imagine that he’s very muscular and his dick is real long and it’s constantly flopping out of the pantleg of his swim trunks and that it’s getting sucked off all the time by them old ladies and most of the time he’s like “no no, we mustn’t do that, for I am a professional” but every now and again he’s like “well alright” and this would reflect my experiences at whatever Halloween party I’m at except it would be a 20 year old woman dressed like an old lady because it’s Halloween. Thanks for the question.

Do you have a girlfriend? What does she think of Adult Swim or does she hate cartoons like mine.

I’m not done with the last thing. I would also have a bullhorn and I’d be using it while getting sucked off, even though that’s a discreet affair. Like, we’d find a bedroom that was empty and lock the door and I’d be like “Oh yeah baby suck my peenie, yes you are doing so good at sucking that.” in hushed tones, but into the bullhorn. I’d also use it to yell at children for wearing racist or appropriative costumes, which, as we all know, leads to more getting-your-dick-sucked. Anyway, I got a wife and we literally met at an Adult Swim event during Comic-Con! It was Tim & Eric Awesome-con 2007! I’M NOT LYING

Would you rather take one big bite out of meatwad or drink the entirety of Master Shake.

I wonder if Master Shake is warm. Anyway, I’d go with that, biting Meatwad seems like CERTAIN DEATH.

[maryellencarter]

SO! A week or two ago I got the DVDs for both seasons of "Justice League: The Animated Series", which I hadn't seen in ten years and remembered loving a lot. Spoiler: I still love it a lot. I put off watching it for a while because I was scared I wouldn't, but then I watched it pretty much straight through without even stopping to liveblog.

So. THOUGHTS! ^_^ Any of y'all who've ever shared a fandom with me know I'm always around for one particular character. In this case, that's J'onn J'onzz, the big green guy, whose official comics codename (sensibly not used on the show) is Martian Manhunter.

(There's a bit in one of the tie-in comics where a parent is telling their kid "don't be scared, honey, he won't hurt you, that's the uhh... Martian Maneater..." which has never ceased to amuse me.)

Anyway, we all know I have a tendency to give reviews in the vein of "Good story but no werewolves", and it must be granted that I never did bother watching Justice League Unlimited because Carl Lumbly (J'onn's voice actor, Minnesota born and raised with Jamaican parents, which is apparently how you get a Martian accent I couldn't place to anywhere on Earth) wasn't a regular anymore. But y'know, it's a really good ensemble team too, even if I like Tim Daly's Superman (from Superman: The Animated Series in the same animated universe) a lot better than George Newbern's. Or, well, I did. I haven't heard *him* in ten years either. Anyway! Off topic.

SO ANYWAY. Obviously, spoilers hereabouts, although it's what, fifteen, twenty years old by now? But if you care about spoilers for somewhat elderly TV, you might not be following me anyhow.

So the meta premise, just in case anybody was unfamiliar, is thuswise: First there was Batman: The Animated Series, in which Mark Hamill was the best Joker while not being an asshole as a person, because he is a competent actor and not a dickwad. Then there was Superman: The Animated Series, which I remember as being a delight and I want to watch it again too someday. Then, because apparently if you have Batman and Superman the next step is the entire Justice League, there was this.

The actual premise is, that during an alien invasion of Earth, Superman and Batman rescue a prisoner, J'onn J'onzz, the last survivor of the Martian society the invader aliens wiped out. (J'onn and Clark get little bits of bonding over the last-of-their-kinds thing but I've always wanted more. In a fandom auction I once donated $60 for a fic on the topic, but life happened and I do not hold it against the person. Still a little sad though. It's not something I've ever quite been able to write myself.) J'onn has a whole grab-bag of superpowers including telepathy, with which he summons additional heroes The Flash (speedster, this one is twentyish goofball Wally West), Green Lantern (specifically John Stewart, a black ex-Marine), Wonder Woman, and Hawkgirl (a winged humanoid-alien woman with an energy mace). Together, they fight crime! Mostly.

Specific episodes: I'm going to use "episode" to refer to the runtime covered by a single title so I don't have to say "two-parter" or "three-parter" every single time, because this show had literally only one single-part episode out of the whole 52 episodes.

* Secret Origins, three-parter: In which the Justice League is formed and repels the invasion of Earth by the aliens who wiped out J'onn's people. A very strong start, good character intros. I will never be over the very small worldbuilding fact that J'onn is rescued by Superman and Batman, and has seen nobody else on Earth yet but invader aliens (these are what used to be called the White Martians but the show does not use this name either which I think was a wise choice), so when he shapeshifts from his more alien "natural" Martian form to the look which will be his default for the series, he chooses a briefs-and-cape look because based on the two examples he's seeing, that's what Earth people wear. It's not explicitly called out, but it's a great way to make it a little less... comic-booky that you have no less than three extra-beefy guys with almost identical costume silhouettes here.

I think the arc between Batman and J'onn is one of my favorite parts of this, the way Batman starts out being like "I still don't trust him" and winds up trusting him enough that it's their teamwork which saves the world this go-round. Also, speaking as a fan who likes me some whump, can we talk about the scene where J'onn is being mindprobed with all those tentacles under his skin? I have so fucking many feels about that scene, okay. God, that whole climactic sequence is so damn good. And his tiny lil smile at the end of the last episode! I do love me some microexpressions, nonetheless that they are animated. (I can't draw so I am constantly boggled by just the skill it has to take to draw a character so on-model that varying one line by a few pixels Says Things.)

* In Blackest Night, two-parter: The one where the extremely Kirby-designed cop robots frame Green Lantern into believing he blew up an inhabited planet. Introduces several alien members of the Green Lantern Corps. Flash trying and failing to act as GL's lawyer is fairly embarrassment-squicky to me; many of the things anybody does with Flash on this show are fairly embarrassment-squicky, although he does get some great moments. René Auberjonois does two voices, as a spherical Green Lantern and as the "witness" who helps frame GL. The climactic scene is great -- sometimes the Green Lantern ditty just doesn't work, but between the sound design and the animation and Phil Lamarr's voice acting, this scene blows me away every time. I feel like this one could have been shorter though.

* The Enemy Below, two-parter: In which (blond) Aquaman guest-stars, J'onn takes on the first of many roles where he acts as bait by impersonating a villain's target, and the thing where Aquaman cuts off his own hand to escape a manacle is very tastefully handled for a kids' show. I probably would have found that scene way too suspenseful and traumatic as a kid but I was an extremely sensitive small child. Opinions on this episode: I don't really have many. This universe's Aquaman is a *dick* who appears to live by the rule that you must always fight a superhero when you meet one on the street before explaining your business. I always squee when somebody turns out to be J'onn, because I've usually forgotten. (He usually is people and not animals or, like Odo more than once, a bag. I wonder if he has some conservation of mass thing going on or if it's just easier to animate when you keep your same basic arrangement of limbs.)

* Injustice for All, two-parter: Lex Luthor, dying of kryptonite poisoning, puts together the Injustice Gang to try to destroy the Justice League. He didn't invite the Joker, but Hulk expy and heavy hitter Solomon Grundy is also voiced by Mark Hamill, so the Joker naturally turns up around the point where Luthor captures Batman, commentating on Luthor's misguidedness in keeping Bats alive and generally providing a running peanut gallery. Clancy Brown and Mark Hamill are both always fun, so this one is pretty entertaining.

* Paradise Lost: Wonder Woman backstory-ish episode. A sorcerer turns the other Amazons to stone, then blackmails Diana into stealing four artifacts for him, which he assembles into a key to free the god Hades from Tartarus. Notable mainly for the extreme mangling of Greek mythic cosmology into an aggressively Christian shape. Not good. It does have J'onn and Flash teamed for a bit, which is interesting, and J'onn gets to one-punch a giant magic brass cobra, but that's about all there is to speak for it. It looks like the writer also did my very least favorite two-parter of the whole series, unless this is some sort of Alan Smithee situation, because the name is Joseph Kuhr and I have a half-memory I can't catch that there is *something* more than coincidence in the whole, you know. "Joe-Kuhr" thing?

* War World: Apparently this one was pretty nearly universally hated. I do not hate it, because the concept "Superman and J'onn are accidentally blown across the galaxy together and sold to an alien gladiatorial arena" is something I am 110% down for, but I wanted a lot more interaction between them and possibly a lot more fic. I can't decide if I actually want to ship them, but they're obviously very close and I want to see more than snippets of that, dammit.

That's halfway through season one. Imma go sleep. more later.

[imagineteller1]

Horror Night

Warnings: language, gore.

Pairings: Daryl x reader x Negan.

My heart felt heavy on my chest. I choked in every breath I took. I watched, what used to be Abraham, crushed in the floor. Everything was ringing. The tears blinding my vision.

Negan talked but I didn't pay attention, I couldn't. He was in front of Rosita, trying to get her to see the bloody bat of the man she loved. In a second, Daryl took a swing at Negan.

"Daryl! No!" I screamed and ran towards him, my hands extended in an attempt to grab him. Before I could reach him, some of Negan's men were already holding me down as well as Daryl.

"No!" Negan yelled pointing his bat at Daryl. "That- oh," he chuckled. "That is a no no. The whole thing, not one bit of that shit flies here." He now kneeled in front of me. His rough hand was pulling on my chin to look up at him. "Brave little thing here, eh?"

I pulled my face away from his grasp. He stood back up. A blonde man held Daryl's crossbow at his face.

"You want me to kill him? Right here?"

"No!" I screamed. Trashing my body in the men's grip, I kicked around.

"Hey! Hey, what part of staying quiet do you not get?" Negan turned to me with his bat.

"Please, please, don't kill him. I'm begging you." I sobbed and I felt like I couldn't breath. My breath was stuck in my throat. I felt like I was having a panic attack. When I started shaking more violently I knew I was. My limbs felt as if they weren't there. I felt heavy but at the same time lite.

I heard Negan say something and then Daryl was thrown back in line. He approached me and kneeled back down. I tried to push the men away but they just gripped tighter. "I c-an't brea-th." I stuttered.

"What did you say again, darlin'"

"I-I can't br-eath." He signalled his men and I was dropped. My palms were on the ground as I tried to calm down. My chest heaved violently as I gasped for air. I felt like I was drowning.

"Holy fucking shit, she is having an attack." He joked.

New tears reamed down my face and fell to the dirt. This could be it. I looked at Daryl. He was looking at me, I saw a tear flow down his cheek. He tried to walked towards me but he was pushed down.

I closed my eyes and tried to calm my breathing. Deep breaths. I could feel the oxygen make its way to my lungs. I heard Daryl's voice telling me to calm down like he had done countless of time, but in difference, he wasn't holding me this time.

After what felt like hours I opened my eyes and felt like I could breathe again.

"Still with us, doll?" Negan asked jokingly. "Both of you are so impulsive, not surprised you two are fucking." He took my face in his hand forcefully.

I glared up at him and he chuckled. "Get her back in line." Like that I was thrown in my back and dragged to where I had been kneeling before.

"Anyway... that's not how it works. Now, I already told you people, first one's free. Then what did I say, I said I would shut that shit down." He had a maniac smile on his face. "No exceptions. Now I don't know what kind of lying assholes you've been dealing with, but I'm a man of my word. First impressions are important." Short silence. "I need you to know me. So, back to it."

In a second Negan's bat connected with Glenn's head. I blinked a few times. Not being able to believe this was really happening. We had just lost two of the strongest men of our group in a couple of minutes. I looked at Maggie and saw her sobbing.

I looked back at Glenn. You could see his skull and one of his eyes was bulging out of its socket.

My heart was beating out of my chest and I could hear every beat thumping.

"Buddy, you still there?" Negan asked mockingly. He muttered something and then exclaimed. "You are trying to speak! But you just took a hell of a hit. I just popped your skull so hard your eyeball just popped out. This is as gross as shit."

"Maggie I-I'll find yo-u." Glenn finally was able to mutter out.

"Oh, hell." Negan spoke. His voice was calm and serious. Like he actually felt sorry. "I can see this is hard, amiga. I am sorry. I truly am. But, I did say..." a smile now played in his lips. "No exceptions." He swinged at Glenn again. I jumped back in place.

No, no, no.

"You bunch of pussies... I'm just getting started. Lucille is thirsty." He kept hitting and hitting. There was nothing left to hit yet he kept swinging his bat. After he got tired he stepped away and joked. "She is a vampire bat."

The only sound was Negan's boot and our cries.

"What? Was the joke that bad?"

Rick looked up from his spot with a trembling yet determined look in his eyes. "I'm gonna kill you."

"What? I didn't quite catch that. You're gonna have to speak up." Negan mocked.

"Not today... not tomorrow... but I'm gonna kill you."

"Jesus," Negan scoffed. "Simon, what did he have? Knife?"

"He had a hatchet."

"Hatchet?" He smiled.

"An axe."

Negan laughed. "Simon, is my right hand man. Having one of those is important. I mean, what do you have left without 'em. A whole pile of work. You have one? Maybe one of these fine people still breathing. Oh, or did I-" he made a clock sound with his tongue.

Rick remained silent. Negan sighed. "Sure, yeah. Give me his axe."

Who I believed was Simon, stepped up with axe in hand and gave it to Negan. He stood up and grabbed Rick by the shoulder. "We'll be right back, maybe Rick will be with me. If not, well we can just turn these people's inside out. I mean, the ones that are left."

With that he shut the trailer's door closed and drove away.

I looked at Daryl. He was shaking. His gunshot wound could get infected with all the trauma his body was going through right now. I went to stand up but was held in place.

"I'm not gonna do anything. You have all of our weapons, what could I do?" I tried to reason with the men.

"You stay on your knees, bitch. Unless you want to end up like your friends over there." He signalled to the bodies that laid on the floor. With a thud I sat back in the ground, pulling my legs to my chest.

--

Hours had passed and the sun had come up when the trailer came back. No one came out for a couple of minutes. The air was full of tension as we hoped to see Rick still alive. When the door finally opened, Rick was pushed to the ground and Negan came out, he dragged Rick back to us.

"Here we are. Let me ask you something, Rick. You even know what that little trip was about?"

Rick remained silence.

"Speak when you're spoken to."

"Okay... okay."

"That trip was about the way you looked at me. I wanted to change that. I wanted you to understand. But you're still looking at me the same damn way... like I shit in your scrambled eggs, and that's not gonna work." He paced around and then kneeled next to Rick. "So... do I give you another chance?"

"Yeah. Yes. Yes."

Patting Rick's shoulder he stood up. "Okay." He chuckled. "All right. And here it is- the grand prize game. What you do now will decide whether your crap day becomes everyone's last crap day or just another crap day. Get some guns to the back of their heads.”

Guns cocked from behind us.

"Good. Now... level with their noses, so if you have to fire..." he imitates an explosion. "It'll be a real mess."

Silence.

"Kid." He said looking at Carl. "Right here." He pointed to the ground beside Rick. Carl was frozen in place. "Kid... now." Carl took slow steps. Negan took of his belt. "You a southpaw?"

"Am I a what?"

"You a lefty?"

"No."

"Good." He smiled as he took Carl's arm and tied the belt around it, cutting the circulation. "That hurt?"

"No."

"Should. It's supposed to." He finished tying the belt. "All right. Get down on the ground, kid, next to daddy. Spread them wings." He took Carl's hat off.

Carl did as told. "Simon, you got a pen?"

"Yeah." He threw it at Negan. He took of the cap with his teeth and kneeled next to Carl.

"Sorry, kid. This is gonna be as cold as a warlock's ballsack, just like he was hanging his ballsack above you and dragging it across the forearm." We all watched in horror as Negan drew a line in Carl's arm. "There you go. Gives you a little leverage."

"Please. Please. Please don't. Please don't." Rick begged.

"Me?" Negan chuckled. "I ain't doing shit." He stood up. "Ah. Rick, I want you to take your axe... cut of your son's left arm off, right on that line. Now I know- I know. You're gonna have to process that for a second. That makes sense. Still, though, I'm gonna need you to do it, or all these people are gonna die. Then Carl dies, then the people back home die... and then you, eventually. I'm gonna keep you breathing for a few years, just so you can stew on it."

"You- you don't have to do this. We understand. We understand." Michonne spoke.

"You understand. Yeah. I'm not sure Rick does." He advertido his attention back to Rick. "I'm gonna need a clean cut right there on that line. Now, I know this is a screwed up thing to ask, but it's gonna have to be like a salami slice- nothing messy, clean, forty five degrees- give us something to fold over. We got a great doctor. The kid'll be fine. Probably. Rick this needs to happen now- chop, chop- or I will crush the little fella's skull myself."

"Please, we all understand. Rick understands. We all work for you, stop this. You don't need to prove a point because you already did." I tried. This was my family. I wasn't gonna stay quiet and not try anything. My arms pointed at the fallen bodies.

I felt a gun press against the back of my head.

"It can- it can- it can be me." Rick stuttered out. "It can be me. Y-you can do it to me. I c- I can go with- with you."

"No. This is the only way. Rick... pick up the axe." Rick didn't move. "Not making a decision is a big decision." Negan's voice raised. "You really want to see all these people die? You will. You will see every ugly thing." He still didn't move. "Oh, my god." He groaned. "Are you gonna make me count? Okay, Rick. You win. I am counting."

"Three!"

"Please." Rick cried out. "Please. It can be me. Please!"

"Two!" He kneeled next to Rick.

"Please, don't do-" Rick sobbed and I looked away.

"This is it."

Rick screamed. I shut my eyes closed. Tears running down my cheeks.

"One!"

"Dad... just do it. Just do it." I heard Carl whisper.

I looked back at the scene.

Rick held the axe high, preparing to cut his son's arm.

"Rick." Negan stopped him. "You answer to me. You provide for me. You belong to me. Right?" Rick nodded hastily. "Speak when you're spoken to!" Negan's voice beamed making everyone jump. "You answer to me. You provide for me."

"Provide for you." Rick answered shakily.

"You belong to me, right?!"

"Right." Rick breathed heavy.

"Right. That... is the look I wanted to see." He stood up and took the axe. "We did it... all of us, together... even the dead ones on the ground. Hell, they get the spirit award, for sure." He sighed. "Today was a productive damn day! Now, I hope, for all your sake... that you get it now... that you understand how this work. Things have changed. Whatever you had going for you... that is over now." He chuckled.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. "Ah, Dwight... load him up." He signalled to Daryl who struggled in, who I suppose was Dwight's, arms.

"What are you gonna do to him?" I asked. Trying to sound as strong as I could. Negan turned to me.

"How could I forget about you?" He took long yet calming strides towards me. "You, darlin', are coming with me too."

"Why?" I sounded more panicked than I wanted to.

"Because..." he smiled. "You've got a mouth on you and I really, really like it. Keeps me on my feet. I have a proposal for you..." he waited for my name.

"Lucia."

He smiled and licked his lips. "You hear that, Lucille? They sound similar... okay, Lucia. I have this proposal for you. You come with me, be one of my wives, and I, won't kill another one of your group, for your blabbing mouth. How does that sound, hm?"

Shock was written all over my face. "It's your choice, Lucia. Either you come with me or... I kill another one of your friends. So, what will it be?" He passed his finger along my jawline. I looked at the truck where Daryl was in.

Maybe, if I went with him I could find a way to help Daryl escape. I looked around the group. I wasn't gonna let anyone else die, much less because of my fault.

"Okay." I said. Turning off all my emotions.

"Great." He smiled. "You and I are gonna have a lot of fun together." He licked his lips while scanning my body. "Fan-fucking-tastic. Simon, put her in my truck. I still have some words to say to our new pal Rick."

As Simon grabbed my arm and led me to a truck I looked back and saw Rick watching me. I gave him a slight nod with my head, telling him I had a plan.

I wrote this a some time ago but hadn’t posted it here. Requests are open ❤️

[punkscowardschampions]

Ali & Tommy

Ali: I am SO glad this holiday centres around drinking beyond reason

Tommy: Me too, like, But why are you?

Ali: I wouldn’t even wanna get into it if it weren’t for the fact I couldn’t with her

Ali: Obvious clue is obvious

Tommy: Oh darling, Kitty, what’s she done now?

Ali: It’s not even what she’s done

Ali: It’s her total lack of desire to try

Ali: I know I shouldn’t take it personally and it’s symptomatic of the bigger picture

Ali: But that’s the problem, it’s so hard to watch, to see it so clearly when she has no front to put up

Tommy: Yeah, it always puts a lovely, thick layer of extra dread onto my homecoming

Tommy: the regularly scheduled updates are bad enough & it’s not like I can do more for being back under the same roof

Ali: Oh God, please don’t start, it’s like no one wants to be here, pure depressing, like

Ali: That’s how I ended up feeling, it wasn’t like she wanted to come but you know, anxiety, strangers etc

Ali: Because my suggestions to alleviate those problems were shot STRAIGHT down

Ali: So she just doesn’t want to

Ali: but not just that, I should feel like shit for going and leaving her alone...which put like that, should I? I don’t even know now

Tommy: Honey, fuck that! I’ve had to veto Fi going full Elphaba on all our faces so that diva maybe this close to not, but there’s no stopping me, Will, Gwen or Steph 🥳🥳🥳

Tommy: she’s getting worse, I dunno what any of us are meant to do

Tommy: other than being certain that I’m not gonna let you have an utter shit time

Tommy: That’s what she wants, that way you’ll stay with her forever 💀🥀🕷🕸

Ali: Nice to hear some genuine enthusiasm, which is fecking ridiculous considering this is apparently every fucker’s fave holiday as standard, I swear everyone but Da is in a right mood atm

Ali: Thank God that everyone’s gotta let tourists be tourists for the 💸🤑 or your mates would need some serious babysitting 😏

Ali: Little green men is fully my groupies’ aesthetic so you’re welcome to out yourself any time, like

Ali: I dunno, I mean, she’ll be alright won’t she? It’s a fairly long sesh, I know…

Ali: Hence my life’d be a lot easier if she’d come for a bit but there we go

Tommy: My honoured guests have got it in spades & buckets tbh 🧶🧚‍♀️🍀🎩🌈 dress up is already well underway just can’t let ‘em also start 🚗💣🍺🥃 or they won’t last to see it in

Tommy: cba to stick in it a 🍼 you know

Tommy: how many groupies you got now? Only 👏 while it’s still underground, avant-garde & super niche, naturally

Tommy: What’s she got planned? Other than putting a 💔 hex on you and Carls

Ali: Sensible

Ali: And not in a scrooge debbie downer kinda way

Ali: Found out the tents for yous to sleep in but I’m taking ‘em out first

Ali: 🌄 are calling, obvs

Ali: Naturally 🙄 just don’t click instead that shit is TOO pretentious even for your lot

Ali: She said she was WELL busy, but you know, the usual I imagine 📚💭

Ali: Drew won’t pay her no attention way too busy with the tourists etc 💸🤑

Tommy: 👍 cheers 😸👼 you are

Tommy: 🍀 are calling, is what you mean

Tommy: 🙄 be a waste of a 🙏 I know it’s 1 of her other highly rated activities, like, but still, I don’t need to imagine the two of ‘em getting together rn

Ali: They make NO sense

Ali: Unless his thing is dating a girl like his sister, in place of the standard wanting a mum 2.0, which understandably is not his vibe

Ali: Suspect don’t cover it but we’ll see

Tommy: It’d make more sense if I dumped Will for Fi & suss wouldn’t cover that & that’s a NO from us all

Tommy: Excuse you whore! That’s Meena slander

Ali: You know what I mean though

Ali: Where did this come from, like 🤯

Tommy: 🤯 over straight boy behaviour since forever

Ali: I usually find them so boringly easy

Ali: not the brag it sounds

Ali: I’d rather get her again… I’d know what to do, before

Ali: It was safety, for her and us

Tommy: Before she would’ve followed you anywhere, you can’t keep her safe if she ain’t even gonna try to meet you halfway at anything

Ali: Like you said, nothing to be done, I suppose

Ali: At least today

Ali: I’m going to mass with her, she’s helping to set up, it’s something

Tommy: & I’ll squeeze in a 1 on 1 for me & her before I leave 🩰👒🎹🎤✨

Ali: Tah

Ali: If only getting people to spend time with her was the issue

Ali: Be fully booked if she wanted

Tommy: But like you said, it’s something & if anyone can talk her out of an unsuitable romance, it’s me 🧚🏼‍♂️

Tommy: don’t have your track record

Tommy: there’s at least a chance she’ll take my advice about doing better than a dealer 🤞 now I’ve got myself the “happy ending” of decent hair & only petty crime

Ali: None of my romances have been unsuitable

Ali: You underestimate how discerning her taste is when it comes to other people’s partners

Ali: He might not be Carly levels of demon but don’t mean you’ll find a nice word to be said, like

Tommy: put your claws away, Kit, talking Ro’s POV, Carls is my angel

Tommy: & I guarantee I’ve heard worse than she can dish from the other bitchy ballerinas who couldn’t get their 💅 in first

Tommy: simply not quaking, sorry

Ali: Just saying, if it were that easy, it’d be done by now

Tommy: just saying, I’ve not taken a turn yet

Ali: If there’s any day for luck…

Ali: It ain’t one where she’s decided to be in the worst mood ❌🍀

Tommy: I’ve only got the weekend, like

Ali: I understand her a bit better than that tah

Ali: as well as the appeal of prohibition

Ali: the more everyone weighs in on her being wrong, the more bolstered she feels in how right she actually is

Ali: one fuckboy mistake she’ll have to learn from

Tommy: & I don’t? PLEASE 🙄 No notes needed for this performance

Ali: She always gets worse when Bea comes back

Ali: I’ll be the one dealing when you all fuck off again

Tommy: I know

Tommy: so let me deal with her this time, Will, Gwen & Fi have all been here enough & they’ve got each other

Ali: Sorry, the moods catching

Tommy: She can run but the house ain’t grown any new hiding places & I remember ‘em all

Ali: She’s still small enough to fit in all the gaps and cracks, you less so

Ali: Anything is worth a shot

Ali: The party will be enough, loads of my mates are coming, yours won’t get bored 🤞

Tommy: True but when she gets in one she ain’t got the strength to get to another quick as I can 🐁🩰

Tommy: yeah, yeah the party don’t stop when I walk out, I know ☹️😏

Tommy: & Carls isn’t just my angel, she’ll save that bit of the day if needs

Ali: Tourists love St Paddy’s

Ali: and no one does it better than da

Tommy: if I were gonna disagree it’d only be to annoy him

Ali: @ the family group chat for that hilarious bants, Tommo

Tommy: 🐻👈

Tommy: 1st time I’ve used those not as a euphemism? Oh definitely

Ali: Please, you’re a couple of 🧚🏼‍♂️🧚🏼‍♂️s

Tommy: Tah, Darling

Tommy: flattery will get you an invite to the next teddy bears picnic

Ali: Bit rude to Carly that you think that’s my type

Ali: no 🧔s here

Tommy: It’s not me trying drive a wedge, she’s invited too

Ali: Thoughtful 😏

Tommy: You shall go to the ball

Ali: Glass shoes is an idea… 🤔

Tommy: One way to keep hold of your drink or stop a fight

Ali: Me and my shoes are keeping well out of any more fights, fuck that

Tommy: What is your outfit plan then?

Ali: I’ve got all the material to construct it now, I think

Ali: See what it comes out like 🤷‍♀️✨

Tommy: Fi don’t believe you can top last year’s

Ali: I love a challenge and a chance to impress, obviously

Tommy: chop chop 😼

Tommy: shameless distraction tactic I’m throwing at you, who?

Ali: Christ knows I’m running out of time with the to-do list never ending, hey ho

Tommy: Same tbh

Tommy: we’d better get back to it 🧹🎃

Ali: Fuck being a middle kid, right? 💔

Tommy: Honestly

Ali: You know what you’re getting Rocky yet, speaking of the little shit

Tommy: Probably that bow with the glowing arrows that stick to windows & shit, he keeps seeing the ad & reckons they’ll fly over the house

Ali: Alright, going for 🥇 sib, fair play 👏

Tommy: Sure you’ll have me beat with whatever you’re planning

Ali: I’ll think of something

Ali: Once this is all out the way

Ali: If ma will let us, we’ll take him camping with his 🏹

Tommy: Once all the 🍬🍫🧁🎂🧃 hits she’ll be glad to be rid

Ali: not the baby though 🙄

Tommy: thank god for daddy’s girl, yeah?

Tommy: you’ll never lose that 👑

Ali: try as you might, yeah yeah 😉

Tommy: 😏

[groovycatcollector]

The Wonderfully Right, And The Horribly Wrong (Daryl Dixon Love story)

Summery: After losing her brother and his wife, one young woman is left on her own, caring for a new born and trying to survive. After being taken in to a community after years of mistrust, how will she adapt, and what effect will a certain archer have on her. Starts the last episode of season5 

Warnings: slowish-burn, angst, eventual fluff, violence, strong language. ptsd, Age gap

Pairings: Daryl Dixon x OFC

@buckysjuicyplums ;)

Chapter 3

Now my blood was boiling. Thoughs stupid motherfucking sheltered ass bitches making me feel like shit. I decided I would be useful and help Carol with the goddanmed inventory with the other women and fuck me I’m never doing that shit again. They started asking me all types of shit that is none of their fucking business. I storming back to the house, my mind gone foggy with rage, and this stupid sun certainly wasn’t helping with my coherence. I had barely noticed that I had nearly knocked that asshole Daryl to the floor. 

He had become somewhat confusing over the last few days. First he brought me some clothes for the boy, then that same night I heard him arguing with Carol that they should kick me out, stupid fuck. “Watch it” He growled, grabbing my arm. I looked up at him, my fists clenched ready to fight. I shook my arm free and turned to face him, I didn’t say anything, and I couldn’t find any words. I looked up at him, looking at his heavy brow and thin lips, trying to find one crack of a threat. We stayed glaring at each other until I felt the pure red fury build up in my throat, snarling my nose and making me run. I ran into the house and made a Bee line for the bathroom.

I couldn’t get they’re words out of my head, I sat in the bath, rocking him back and forth “He looks small for 6 months” They’re words were echoing in my head “Do you talk to him much? You really should, it’ll help his skills” Who the fuck do they think they are? They got to raise their kids where it was safe “What do you mean you haven’t done tummy time with him?” It’s not like we were in a place I could focus on the domestics of the child “Ya know a sense of security is really important for the first three years” My throat got tight and I couldn’t stop the tears “Are you not scared he won’t develop like he should?” God why am I even trying with this kid, all the air left my lungs as I gasped, trying to breath. I’m rocking more now, not sure if it’s more for the baby or me. I rested him on my knees and looked at him, while he grabbed my hair, playing. I know I’m gonna fail him, I’m gonna let him down eventually but was just reminded that I already have. I’ve no idea how long I stayed there trembling thinking about how ill prepared I am to look after him, but the knock on the door broke my train of thought, making me wipe my eyes

“Hey, Nina, you okay in there? Daryl said you seemed upset” Maggie, Carl introduced us a few days ago, a0nd she seemed to be the closest to my age. “Yeah I’m good” I called back with my now starchy voice, torn whether or not I wanted to see her, we did get on, but I’m not sure if I wanted to explain. I could hear her clear her throat “Do you want to talk about it?” She sounded uncomfortable, but not noisy, might as well, I’ll be gone in a few weeks. I climbed out of the bath and gently unlocked the door. She opened it with a furrowed brow. “C’mon” She walked and I followed meekly

 **

She swapped the cup of water for the baby and handed it to Glenn, who said he was gonna take him for a walk. I for once didn’t say anything, and he was probably better off being away from me right now, with my head feeling so foggy. “So” she said sitting next to me on the couch “What happened?” I opened my mouth to speak but nothing was coming out. I took a gulp of the water while trying to think. What did happen? “I just…” I began “I just don’t know what I’m doing, and I suppose the moms down doing the inventory reminded me of that” Maggie looked at me and her eyes softened. “So this is about your kid?” I stayed silent, I’m not even sure what the blow out was about, once again having no idea how to even process this I told her everything, or nearly everything; from my brother, to the first few days, to the gangs trying to abduct us. She kept her hand on mine the entire time and just listened.

 “Sorry, I think I just needed to get it off my chest” I said, whipping a tear away. “You’re okay” She paused, when I looked up she was examining my face “Nina, you were on your own, trying to mind a kid and keep yourself alive. But now you have people who want to help” Maggie took a deep breath before looking back up at me “And people want to help, and you need to learn to exept help when its offered, I can already tell you’re a danmed stubborn woman”  I cocked an eyebrow at her“well I suppose you have to be too stubborn to die” I chuckled at that and she smiled back, her eye getting bright. “Thank you Maggie, I suppose it’s just hard adjusting to everything.”

I stood up from the couch, brushing my pants off “Ya know I think I need a job” I joked “I mean look at these clothes, no colour at all, I look like an emo” I gestured to my black camo pants and tank top. She giggled a bit “I think a few people are going on a run soon if you want to go, could try find clothes or baby stuff for the kid” She stands too, and I walk towards the sink to clean out my glass.

 “What do you miss the most ?” I asked her drying the glass with a table cloth. She hummed and leaned agents the island “I would say chocolate, like Maltesers” I sighed, suddenly remembering how much I missed chocolate” Danm that’s a good one” I turned and put the glass back on the shelf. “I think I might just miss Ms Dolly Rebecca Parton the most” She let out a cackle “Dolly Parton?” She used her arms to give her leverage on the counter top. “I would not have pegged you as a Parton girl” I scoffed, fake offended and crossed my arms “I will have you know I was born and bred a Dolly girl” Just as I burst into a fit of laughs Glenn walked back in with the baby.

He smiled in hello and I put my arms out to take the baby.“Hey they’re having a meeting at Deannas house about the horde” Maggie nodded at him and turned to me “Are you coming ? You don’t have to if you feel like you need to rest more” I stopped and thought. I could try do some good before I left, try clear this horde and leave a little good behind.

Part one Part two Part four Part five Part six Part seven Part eight Part nine Part ten Part eleven

[lenademonn]

All This Time - 3

*Summary: Elena used to be closed off and composed, always in  control of her feelings and actions. She knew how to survive long before  world ended and didn’t need anyone to keep her alive. Because  attachments are liability, make you weak especially in this new world  where dead are walking and living are more dangerous than before.

A slow burn Daryl Dixon x OC; from season 1 forward, ongoing. Angst, Violence, strong language, sarcastic humour and more.

Warnings: Swearing, some anger managment issues.

Chapter 3

Day 45 The next day was quiet; the silence between Daryl and me uncomfortable. He woke me up a few hours before dusk, which meant that he took the long shift, nothing new in this aspect. He laid down without saying anything after waking me up, and I spend the next few hours watching the area and thinking about our conversation from before. Daryl woke up before I even had a chance to shake him awake. So lack of sleep, that's another thing I can add to my list of what I know about Daryl Dixon. We quickly packed what little we had and started trekking through woods, following the tracks we noticed yesterday. Finding them wasn't that hard, especially not for a brown-haired man. What turned out to be a challenge was picking up a fresh trail. We walked around for good three hours before Daryl crouched down to touch a set of hoof prints when I followed his action I could tell that those tracks were fresher than the one we found previously. Next to me, the man looked around the forest ground and pointed the way he thought we had to go. It took us another hour to finally find the animal, we spotted it standing in the middle of a small clearing, nibbling on grass. Daryl stopped and rose his clenched fist, signaling for me to stay still. I stopped dead in my tracks and slowly took an arrow out of my quiver, and lined it up on my bow and stretched the string. Steading my breathing and not taking my eyes out of our game, I was waiting for Dixon's directions. He also prepped his weapon and was watching the animal intensely. "Three, two, one," His whisper was barely hearable, and once he said 'one', we both released our arrows. His bolt hit the deer in its side while mine pierced its belly. Animal yelped in pain and took off instantly, its steps uneasy. "C'mon!" After hearing Daryl's voice, I moved quickly jogging after the animal, to not lose it in the woods again. I was pretty sure that I nicked some significant organs, and even though it didn't go down, it should bleed out soon enough; in that case, we didn't want to lose sight of it and allow geeks a free lunch. We followed the trace of blood left on the ground and leaves for some time when we heard a piercing scream, and I realized how close to the quarry we actually were. It sounded like one of the women or even one of the kids. Oh God, I hope it's not Carl or Sophia and that it's nothing. I quickly looked at Daryl. "That's coming from the camp, hurry up Dixon," Before he could react, I jogged in the direction we heard screaming. It didn't take us long to approach the edge of the camp. Daryl moved in front of me at some point, shoving me behind him when we heard concoction just in front of us. Advancing slowly, we finally emerged into a clearing, and I could see familiar faces of Shane, T-dog, Dale, and others. They all were pointing some sort of weapon in our direction.

"We surrender?" I joked while Shane put his gun down, mumbling under his nose. Dixon, on the other hand... well, he was pissed. And I wasn't surprised when I realized that on the ground just in front of us was a headless geek and half-eaten deer. Our fucking deer, the same we were tracking since yesterday. "Son of a bitch" Brown-haired man moved from in front me, around the bushes towards the deer. "That's mah deer!" His accent deepening signaling how angry he actually was. "Look at it, all gnawed on by this filthy, disease-bearing, motherless, poxy bastard." With each word, he gave a sharp kick to the geeks' side, letting his aggression go somewhere else than people in front of us. "Calm down, son. That's not helping," Oh Dale. Why would you say it to Dixon? Do you have a death wish? "What do you know, old man. Why don't you take that stupid hat and go back to 'On Golden Pond'. I've been trackin' this deer for miles." He pointed a finger in Dale's general direction and moved on to retrieve his bolt. I coughed as a reminder that I'm still here. "We. We tracked that deer for miles, Dixon!" Saying that I finally made my way to the dead animal and crouched down to get my arrow. "And by the looks of it out of our shots, mine was more deadly, so technically this deer is mine, you asshole!" I quickly stood up and wiped the blood off my arrow with my rug, then I put it back into the quiver and made my way back to the camp. On my way out, I made sure to push Daryl out of my way with my shoulder. Who the hell does he think he is? We've been hunting together for months now, and yes, of course, I may not be as skilled as he is, but for fuck sake, I am not terrible. Ignoring the men, I patted Amy and Andrea on the shoulder while walking past them. "Good that you back safe" I gave them a small smile and made my way towards the camp to find Lori. She stood next to the RV with Carol and a few other women. When she saw me she smiled, but I could tell it was strained, and I started to have a bad feeling. I approached them and took the zip bags with meat out of my backpack, watching people in front of me carefully. "That's all the meat we got, it should be enough for a few days. We got a deer as well, but fucking geek gnawed on it before we could get to it." I passed the bags to Lori and Carol, as they were the best cooks out of us, trust me you don't want me to cook you dinner unless you're willing to be ill after eating it. "Thanks, Elena, it means a lot. Listen--" Lori started playing with her fingers, after putting the meat bags on a small foldable table next to the RV's door. So there was something wrong. "There isn't a good way of saying it. Merle was left behind on that run, and we know that Daryl will be so angry, and he is really unpredictable in that state. Can you try to calm him down when the guys gonna tell him?" She sputtered, and for a second there a thought I misunderstood what she said. Merle left behind. What does it even mean? Before I could ask any more questions, I could hear Daryl shouting for his brother, and I felt so bad for him. And angry with everyone who went for that run, how could you leave someone behind?! I mean yeah, sure Merle Dixon is a colossal dick and dumbass, but that's not the reason to just-- "Merle, get yur ass out here. We got us some squirrel." He smirked in my direction when he noticed me looking at him "Yes, I said 'we', women. Merle!" I really hoped that my face didn't show any emotions because that was just heartbreaking. And I was also slightly concerned for whoever will deliver the news to him. "Daryl, slow up a bit. I need to talk to you." Shane was the one to speak, and behind him, I could see the rest of men with a new face in between them.

"Hey, Amy, who's that guy behind Shane?" I asked the blonde woman who was now standing next to me on my right.

"You won't believe it. That's Lori's husband." The fuck? I looked at browned haired women and then at the new guy and tried to hide my surprised face. This is going to be interesting. Making a mental note to ask Lori all about that, I focused on the conversation in front of me.

"There was a problem in Atlanta" Shane touched his face for a second, showing how uncomfortable he was saying it and then moved his hands to rest on his hips. Daryl looked around and hold my gaze for a second before he took a few steps.

"He dead?"

"We're not sure." After that, Daryl moved towards Shane, his voice getting louder.

"He either is or he ain't."

"No easy way to say this so I'll just say it." I could see this new guy move forward, and towards Daryl, he wasn't looking directly at him at all.

"Who are you?"

"Rick Grimes"

"Rick Grimes, ya got something ya want to tell me?" Oh, I could tell that Daryl is starting to lose his patience. Yeah, I know, he doesn't have a lot of it in the first place.

"Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal. He's still there" When this Rick guy answered, I found myself moving forward too, annoyed at what he was saying. What stopped me was Daryl and his face full of tears when he turned around away from the new guy. He glanced at me for a second before wiping his eyes and then clenched his jaw, turning back to Rick.

"Let me process this. So, ya handcuffed mah brother to a roof, and ya left 'im there?"

"Yeah," Answer was short, and I could hear the shame in the new guy's voice, then with anger on his face, Daryl threw a string of squirrels we caught this morning at Rick Grimes and was ready to beat the shit out of the guy. That was until Shane literally tackled younger Dixon to the ground. Shane quickly stood up while brown-haired men was still lying on the ground, but I could see him reaching for his hunting knife, which was secured on his belt.

"Daryl -" I was cut off by T-Dog, who dropped the logs he was collecting.

"Hey, watch out for the knife!" At this same moment, Daryl got up and swang his arm at Rick, who dodged it. That didn't stop younger Dixon, he moved again, aiming at the men in front of him, but Rick managed to avoid it again and get a hold of Daryl's wrist pushing it away from both of them. Shane sneaked behind Daryl and put him in a headlock. With that, Dixon was shoved to the ground, with Shane's arm still around his neck. In the meantime, Rick pried the knife and dropped on the ground away from the fight.

"You'd best let me go!" Daryl was still struggling and trying to get away.

"Nah, I think it's better if I don't" I rolled my eyes and finally made my way towards the three of them.

"Shane, let him go!" Using my stern 'work' voice, it usually worked well with criminals and kids, mainly with kids.

"Daryl stop struggling, please. Just calm down for a second so we can get a full story out of them." I crouched in front of him and looked into his blue eyes, now full of tears and rage, his chest rising quickly and his fists clenched, one by his side and the other around Shane's arm, trying to ease the hold. He looked at me for a while and nodded, making me smile just a little.

"Shane, let him go! You know I can handle him if necessary." Both of them looked at me now, one unsure of what to do and the other with a look of pain in his eyes, even though it disappeared very quickly. Shane finally let him go, so I took the opportunity to turn toward this Rick guy and T-Dog.

"Great, now can someone tell us what the fuck happened in Atlanta, and how could you leave a man behind?" I put my hands on my hips, face blank, but my eyebrows rose slightly.

"What I did was not on a whim, Ma'am. His brother does not work and play well with others. He beat T-Dog and was shooting from the rooftop, attracting more and more walkers to our location." Daryl and I exchanged a look, he was biting his lower lip, a clear sign of anxiety. Yeah, unfortunately, what this man was saying was sounding precisely like Merle Dixon.

"It's not Rick's fault." That came from T-dog, "I had a key. I dropped it." Now my face was for sure, showing surprise and confusion, but it was Daryl who voiced what I was thinking.

"You couldn't pick it up?"

"I dropped it down the drain" I run my hand over my face trying to compose myself, while Daryl just scoffed in disbelief.

"If it's supposed to make me feel better, it don't." He finally stood up and tried to walk away from the group—T-Dog's voice stopping him in his tracks.

"Maybe this will. I chained the door to the roof so the geeks couldn't get at him with a padlock." I looked up at them, confused.

"Are you saying that Merle is alive?" I asked in a low voice.

"Yeah"

"You fucking idiots. Don't you think that's the kind of information you should start with?!" I nearly shouted in Shane's face, seeing as he was the one to start all this show.

"Hell with all y'all. Just tell me where he is so that I can go get him."

"He'll show you." Lori's voice was calm, but when I turned around to face her, she was anything but. Oh, I see how it is. The first day back and the Grimes family already got problems.

"Yeah, I'm going back."

*

As I was getting ready in my tent, I tried to not listen to what else people got to say about all that. I re-checked if my knives were secure and put my short sleeve blue flannel shirt over the reins. I checked if my Glock is fully loaded and put it in the holster on my right side. I put some water and granola bars in small backpack Glenn found in Atlanta some time ago.

I took my machete and made my way to the track I knew we gonna be taking. I could see Glenn already sitting in the driver's seat while Daryl was pacing the truck's back. I walked past Rick and T-Dog and put my machete down on the floor of the vehicle. I pushed myself up on my arms and got into the back of the truck, making Daryl stop his pacing.

He looked at me, his blue eyes narrowing "What the hell ya doing here, women?"

I just looked at him calmly and picked up my weapon "What does it look like I'm doing, Dixon? Did you really think that I would let you go without me?" He just scoffed and mumbled under his nose, something about a stupid woman.

"Hey! Don't go breaking my records now! We went all 15 days without you calling me stupid." At that comment, I could see his lips twitch just a little, and then he made his way to the seats at the front of the car and used his foot to pressed a horn.

"Hurry up, y'all!" Rick and T-Dog made their way towards us, the new guy was wearing a sheriffs uniform, I guess he was a cop just like Shane, before all this.

"Ma'am, I don't think it's safe for you to go with us. The city is completely overrun, and it might be dangerous." I let a small laugh escape my lips, the others following my steps, except Daryl, of course. That guy doesn't laugh.

"Rick, this is Elena, we were telling you about her last night." Glenn introduced me, and it got me really interested in what they were telling him about me.

"SSA Elena James, not that it matters anymore. Trust me, I had my experience with the dead already, and yet I'm still here alive." I spun my machete in a circle, careful to not nick Daryl with a blade. After that, we finally were ready to go, Rick taking the passenger side at the front, T-Dog climbing up to sit with younger Dixon and me.

*

The journey to Atlanta was uneventful, except few snarky comments from Daryl. Glenn finally parked the car, and we all jumped out, making our way to a chained fence, to go through it. The first time I saw the city after that day on a highway and boy let me tell you it was horrible.

The streets were abandoned except for a few geeks - or walkers, as Rick calls them. I could see abandoned cars and here and there we passed burned down buildings, seeing what napalm actually did to Atlanta and how deserted it looked.

It's kind of image you'd only see in a movie, laughing and asking your friends what would you do if apocalypse, of any kind, would hit. And now we fucking living it and it's scary to think about because it seems like humanity lost and what was left of us was in the minority.

"Merle! We ain't even having this conversation." Daryl's gravelly voice pulled me out of my thoughts. It seems as he and Officer Friendly were having a go at each other. Again.

"We are. You know the geography, it's your call" That last part was intended for Glenn, who, in fact, like I mentioned before, is a walking map of Atlanta.

"Merle's closest. The guns would mean doubling back. Merle first." I was so happy when Glenn said it. I didn't know if I could stop Daryl if he'd decide to punch Rick, or I should say I wasn't sure if I was willing to do so. I was pissed too, you don't leave people behind like that, it doesn't matter how fucking annoying they are.

We jogged through the streets for about five minutes before making it to the convenience store they left Merle in. I heard a low growl behind me and T, so I quickly spun on my heel and rose my blade into dead men's eye. He was wearing a suit, now shredded in many places, his stomach ripped open and once-white shirt now deep red and brown from all the blood.

As quickly as I sunk my machete in, I pulled it out, pushing caracas to the ground, making the rest of my group look at me. I gave a quick smile in their direction before advancing to the front, following Daryl through a ransacked shop. He gestured for me to take a right, while he went to the left and we both slowly and quietly moved forward, I heard the swish of Daryl's crossbow and then sound of a body going down. When I rounded the corner, I was met with an arrow pointed straight between my eyes. I used my left hand to gently push it down cocking my eyebrow a little.

"Come on, Dixon, you would be super sad if you'd kill me. Who would make you laugh and complement that sexy body of yours if I'd be gone?" He just rolled his eyes and scowled at me before going in the direction we should be going. I looked at Rick, and he had a weird expression on his face. Like a combination of disbelieve, amusement, and resentment all at this same time.

"Don't worry, Rick," T-Dog said, chuckling. "That's just the relationship they have, she pushes his buttons, and he tries not to kill her."

I sent a sweet smile in their direction and moved after Daryl. We finally made our way up the stairs to where the roof door was. When on the top, Daryl made space for T-Dog to use bolt cutters on a padlock and then kicked the door rushing first to get his brother. We all followed him through a platform to a pipe where Merle supposed to be. Yeah, supposed to be...

"No! No!" Daryl's cries broke me a little, he was pacing, and tears rolled down his face. The handcuffs were still attached to the pipe blood all over them, on the floor bloodied handsaw and... a hand.

Impatient prick cut off his own hand. Fuck.

Next Chapter

[justjessame]

A Little Ass and A Lotta Sass Chapter One:  Unimpressed Doesn’t Begin to Cover It

"Little pig, little pig-let me in," I heard a gruff voice call from the gates with an accompanying metallic clang and rattle, as I was taking my little sister Judith out for a walk. Rolling my eyes, I let out a huff of breath and started back to our house.

I passed Dad as he was rushing to the gates, he paused long enough to kiss my forehead and hers. I smiled at him in encouragement and continued toward the house. Negan. The murderous psycho that killed two of ours wasn't supposed to come by for another couple of days. I wasn't surprised. Clearly he was an asshole.

I hadn't been with the others during the mission to flatten the Saviors. Dad had decided that I was more helpful to them if I stayed in Alexandria and kept morale up, while also taking care of Judith. That was fine with me. Not that I was afraid of standing up for our people, but honestly, usually my mouth tended to get ALL of us in more trouble then we started with. My only excuse, and one I was careful not to use too often, was that I'd been an only child for my first six years of life. Dad and Mom had spoiled me rotten, and by the time Carl came along, well it was way too late to reign me in. My mouth at least. Mom had called me "Sassy Pants".

Bouncing Judith in my arms, kissing her silky blonde curls, I considered whether I should rush inside and stay far away from Negan and his minions, or settle on the porch in one of the white rocking chairs and watch. Dad would probably want me to hide, with Judith, inside. Unfortunately, I rarely considered what Dad would want. I mean, I kind of wanted to see how horrific this dickhead was for myself. But I didn't want him or his people to see Judith. I rushed into the house, carrying her upstairs, and was happy to see that she was clearly ready for a nap. I grabbed one of the baby monitor's receivers and pushed it into the pocket of my skinny jeans. I had it turned loud enough to feel the vibrations, just in case she woke up in the middle of the unannounced visit.

Rushing back downstairs, I opened the front door and sat down on the top step. This would give me more options to run, if I chose the chair, jumping over the banister might break my damn leg. As I sat, I considered what Carl had told me about the night Abe and Glenn had died. The night Negan stole Daryl away. The night he nearly forced Dad to cut my baby brother's arm off. I'd felt so much rage and pain since that night. Losing so much, especially when I saw how fucking broken he'd made Dad. Nothing had hurt him so much that he lost sight of what was important, but now? Now he was almost a husk.

Things had been tense, not just in the community, but in our house. Michonne and Dad seemed almost on pins and needles around one another. Carl looked like he'd rather do nothing other than storm the gates and take Negan's head himself. And little Judith was picking up on the entire mess and making her sleep less restful. Me? I felt like I had when we first learned that the dead walked. Like nothing could get fucking worse, but then God laughed and considered that thought a fucking challenge.

I heard that same gruff voice give an order that made little sense, until I caught a glimpse of Dad walking beside a tall man in a leather jacket, barbed wire baseball bat on his shoulder. Negan, I thought, and then my eyes caught the reason for the order. "You don't look at him, you don't talk to him, and I don't make you chop anything off of him." Daryl was creeping alongside one of the minions. He was dressed in the dingiest sweats I'd ever seen, looking far worse than I'd ever seen him look before. Saviors? I snorted to myself. Sure.

I watched, trying to decide if Negan looked as scary as everyone felt he was. He came closer and more in focus, and I tilted my head. Dark hair, slicked back like an old fashioned greaser, a little gray brushing here and there. His face was far more salt than pepper, but his scruff looked too perfect, deliberately careless. The leather jacket was more fitted than I'd imagined. The bat was less intimidating, but then again, he wasn't playing a disturbing game of "Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Moe" with me. The rest of him looked like most of the men in my life, just far cleaner than I thought he'd be.

"And what do we have here?" He whistled and I saw my dad flinch. Shit, guess I'd been too far inside my own head to realize they'd grown closer and now the asshole had his attention focused on me. "Shit, Rick, who the fuck is this little beauty?"

I rolled my eyes and stood, crossing my arms across my semi loose wine colored v-neck t-shirt. I really hoped he didn't think I was going to fucking kneel like he'd made my family before he killed two of them, because that shit was NOT going to happen. He'd asked Dad to tell him who I was, so I didn't feel the need to answer. Dad was looking at me like he'd wished I'd gone all the way inside, but I could also tell he was happy that Judith wasn't with me.

"My daughter," I wanted to scream at the quiet defeat I heard in Dad's voice. "This is my daughter, Callie."

"Fuck, Rick, if you'd brought her along to negotiate, you'd made it out far fucking better than you did." Negan hadn't taken his eyes off of me, rather off of my body, since he'd caught sight of me. "Your wife must have been fucking gorgeous." He walked closer to me and I stood my ground. "And shit, she's lookin' at me like she doesn't fuckin' care who I am." His dimples grew deeper as he shot me a smile that might have been charming if it wasn't attached to a fucking psychopath. "Damn, darlin', you gonna say 'hello' to your new leader?"

I raised an eyebrow and smiled just as deeply. "Sure," I looked at my dad and said, "hello, Dad!" And gave him a little wave.

Negan gave a bark of laughter and stared up at me from his position on the bottom step. It wasn't a far tilt of his head since I'm so goddamn short. "Fuck, you've got a fucking sassy ass attitude don't ya." I stared at him full on, refusing to be charmed or intimidated. "Shit, I swear to fuck your fucking mouth is making my dick hard." I rolled my eyes, breaking contact first, but honestly what the hell?

"That sounds like a very personal problem." I answered, and squinted at him. "Since, I'm guessing that bat on your shoulder is your compensation for the inadequate one in your pants, I don't think you'll have a problem working through it."

Another loud laugh and I could fucking swear his eyes were twinkling at me. Shit, was this fucking foreplay for him? "Hot damn, you got a firecracker here, Rick the Dick!" He winked at me and turned back to Dad. As they walked away, I moved into the house thinking that I could last a fucking lifetime before I had to deal with that dickhead again.

The visit was terrible for so many reasons. They took our weapons. They took comforts, like mattresses and furniture. They took so much, and for what? For power? Because they could? When Carl tried to fight back, I was upstairs holding Judith. She could sense the tension in the air, I swear, and she'd become fussy. When I heard the shots, I clutched at her tighter, wondering if today would be the day that everyone died.

It wasn't, but we weren't safe. Luckily they'd left the food. Apparently Negan wasn't as complementary to the other women, at least not poor Olivia. It was more than certainly better that I'd stayed inside. If I'd heard him make the obscene comments about her weight, I wouldn't have been able to hold my tongue. Or my knife, to be fair. I hated when anyone shamed someone else for a perceived shortcoming. Fat shaming, slut shaming, any type of shaming was fucking wrong.

I heard Dad and Michonne discussing retaliation. Numbers, Dad says, are the issue. Savior numbers are far more vast than they had planned for, and he completely shoots down her idea of utilizing Hilltop. He urges her, and all of us to just learn to live the way we have to now. It's our new reality.

A FEW DAYS LATER

I look all over for Carl, wondering where the hell the kid got to. Dad and Aaron are off trying to find supplies to satisfy their new overlord, and for once I cannot fucking believe that I've become Mom and lost Carl. Shit. Carrying Judith with me, I look from street to street, going all the way to the front gate and seeing nothing. I swear to fucking God, I think I am going to ring my brother's fucking neck.

Hours pass, with Olivia visiting me and helping me keep Judith occupied. We talk about the things we miss from before, something I try really hard not to do when the rest of my family are around. It's too painful, and it almost seems ungrateful seeing as we have all this.

"My cell phone," I nearly moaned. "I swear, I used to threaten to throw the fucking thing in a ditch, but I'd kill to have it back, along with the people I used to text and call." I sober at the thought.

She smiles at me. "Starbucks," her eyes closed thinking of her daily dose of overpriced caffeine clearly. "All the complicated orders and my name misspelled on the cup." We giggle, Judith starting to yawn.

"I'll be right back," I say, picking up the toddler and jogging upstairs to her room. I put her carefully in her crib and smooth her curls. "Sleep tight, baby Jude." I whisper, kissing her forehead as she closes her eyes and drifts off.

I'm coming down the stairs when I heard voices. Thinking it's only Carl, I call out, "I swear to fucking God, I'm going to strangle you." As I clear the bottom step, I'm confronted with a leatherclad chest, and fuck, fuck, fuck more laughter.

"Strangle me?" Negan places his leather gloved hand over his chest as though I'd wounded him. "Fuck, I never thought I'd find a threat so fucking sexy." His voice was low and I rolled my eyes again.

"Not you," I growled, seeing my brother standing by Olivia, "him." Carl didn't have his bandage on and I returned my attention to the asshole blocking my path. "What the fuck did you do to him?"

Negan stepped back slightly, frowning at my tone. "Me? I didn't do shit to him. He came at me, shot more of my men. Fuck, your people, your fucking brother can't seem to get this shit through your fucking heads." He was leaning forward now, regaining the intimidating image that may make someone else cower, but he clearly didn't fucking know me.

I brushed past the overbearing asshole and pulled Carl to me. "Are you alright?" I asked, cupping his face in my hands, even if he was taller than me. "Where's your bandage?"

"Why does he need it?" Negan's voice demanded behind me. "He looks more badass now than he did with the fucking gun he tried to shoot me with." I rolled my eyes and then focused on the terror in Olivia's face. Oh for fuck's sake.

"And her?" I asked, releasing Carl from my grasp and turning to face Negan with my hands on my hips. "What did Olivia do to make you upset her?"

He grinned, dimples trying to distract me by coming into play. "I may have teased her a little. I apologized and even offered to fuck her after she slapped me."

I had to fight against rolling my eyes again. More time spent around him and I'd know what my own fucking brain looked like, enough to detail all the fucking wrinkles. "Do you think that's charming- or?" I squinted up at him and watched him process what I was insinuating about his desirability.

"I'm Prince Motherfucking Charming, darlin'." He winked at me and leaned closer. "For you? For you I'll be anything you want."

I lost the fight against rolling my eyes. "I suppose I should thank you for bringing my brother home. Dad isn't here, he's on a run to get you and your savages more supplies." I make it sound cheery, waiting to see if he noticed that I should thank him, but I didn't.

"Yeah, uh," he looked toward Olivia and I could see he was confused about her name. "She told me about Rick. I think I'll wait for him."

I glared up at him. "Fine. There's a porch right outside, make yourself at home there." Southern hospitality it wasn't, but I was trying to keep him far away from Judith.

He shook his head and started to wander through our house. I shot a look at Carl, televising that I was going to totally fucking ream him over coals for this. He had common sense to look a little bit ashamed.

"Olivia," I said, looking at the woman that Negan had been so rude to. "Why don't you head back?" I walked her to the door, once out of his earshot, I grinned at her. "You really fucking slapped him?" She nodded, a smile forming on her own face. "Way to fucking go, girl!" I hugged her goodbye and walked back into the living room.

Negan was taking in what was left of our luxuries. "Making yourself at home?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. "Don't get too comfortable, I'm sure your minions will be around to collect you, after all you have complete power over everything. They probably can't go potty without your approval."

He turned to me, dimples in full bloom. "Darlin', what the fuck did I do to you to get your panties in such a fuckin' twist?" I noticed he'd placed the bat down, near enough for him to reach it, but down as thought he really was at home. "Your dad did all this, sweetheart, not me. Why don't you be a lamb and make a little lemonade?"

"What?" I asked, looking at him like he'd lost his fucking mind. "Before the world went to shit, did someone give you a proper diagnosis? I mean, you're fucking insane, right? Like hard to pronounce, long latin worded, diagnostic insanity." He was still grinning. "Does being insulted and smacked turn you on?" For fuck's sake, what the fuck was wrong with him?

"No." He answered, sitting on the couch and putting his feet up on the coffee table. Boots still on his fucking feet. "I'm not certifiable." He turned his head to stare up at me. "And as for turning me on? Oh, sweetheart, that's gonna be a LONG conversation for you and me real fuckin' soon." His dimples mocked me and I glared at him. "Now about that lemonade-"

"Get your fucking boots off the furniture," I demanded, glare still firmly in place. "As for the lemonade? We'll see." I pointed at his feet.

He was there for HOURS. He did take his fucking boots off, then he moaned at the feel of the carpet on his bare feet. Moaned indecently, by the way, as though he thought that would somehow make me swoon. I made his fucking lemonade, only because we had the supplies for it readily available. Not because he requested it. He wasn't my God for fuck's sake.

Carl had disappeared upstairs, I hoped he was keeping Judith company because I didn't want the idiot to see her. But of course, he wanted a fucking tour. And he found her nursery. He'd picked her up with more tenderness than I expected him to be capable of, glancing at me as he kissed her head and talked quietly to her.

"What?" I asked, as he alternated looks between the two of us. "Seriously, what are you doing?" I was about to reach for her and take her away from his grubby paws, but he just held her gently and actually fucking rocked her in his arms.

Another kiss on her head and he smiled at me. "You two look nothin' alike." I sighed, I was NOT going to explain Judith's parentage to this idiot, no more ammo for him against my dad. "Course, you don't look like your little brother either."

I smirked, no I didn't. I looked like my paternal grandmother. The auburn hair, the green eyes, my tiny stature, and from what Dad told me, my sass had come directly from her. "So?"

He shrugged and started toward the door with Judith still in his arms. "Nothing." He answered, walking away.

He drank so much lemonade that I thought he must want to have that sour taste on his tongue for days. Then, as though holding us hostage with his presence was his only goal, he took Judith out to sit in the rocking chairs and held fucking court waving to the neighbors like he owned the fucking place.

I heard him say something that made no sense to me, but Carl understood. Then he offered a chilling thought, and I wondered if he were serious, or if this was one of his games. "Maybe I should just bury you both down there in the flower beds, then me and your hot as fuck older sister and this sweet angel in my lap could settle in the suburbs." He chuckled and kissed Judith's nose, staring at her sweet face asking, "What do you think about that?"