#walking slow

[notmygamertag]

At my new(ish) workplace, I can show up with nothing, a cane, or crutch(es), and no one says a thing. My coworkers just casually offer to do the moving-heavy-things part of my job, and then move on if I say "no, I've got it."

And I appreciate that so damn much

cane users don't have to use their cane for every single step in order to be valid in their need for a cane. cane users can suddenly stop using their cane while moving around and not invalidate their need for it next time they use it. some cane users may only use their canes during flare ups. some only need their cane every few steps for short bursts. everyone's needs are different.

every cane user deserves respect.

[yubriamakesart]

i saw the cutest pair on their way to the dumpster this morning, they looked like this:

[serpentface]

The pylidaigh, a type of vampiric snow ghost, as imagined in folklore in and around the Highlands.

This is a ghost believed to come into being when a person dies in the snow and their body is not found before their soul (still trapped without its funeral rites) 'freezes' inside of it. The body then reanimates into a pylidaigh's twisted form. It looks like someone who slowly died of starvation, just a thin layer of flesh over bones. Its skin is as white as the snow itself, so pale it can blend seamlessly into a blizzard. Most of its body appears subtly stretched and lanky, save for its exceptionally unsubtle long, skinny arms, which drag on the ground behind it when it walks. After a big meal of blood, its belly swells like the abdomen of a tick.

A pylidaigh can only tread across snow and ice, and so doorways and windows are best kept clear of snowfall during the winter in order to prevent it from reaching inside. It mostly comes out to hunt during blizzards when there is little that can prevent it from catching its victims.

In spite of its fragile appearance, a pylidaigh is supernaturally strong, and can run at great speeds when it wants to. No mortal weapons can pierce its body, nor can any bonds known to craftsmen hold it in place. It is usually said that chains forged like iron but made out of ice can bind a pylidaigh and render it immobile, but this smithing technique remains tragically elusive to the average joe.

This ghost is either cast as a wildly dangerous but tragic figure, or one that is more simply malicious. In either case, it is described as experiencing nothing but bitter cold. It shivers endlessly. It retains distant memories of what it was to be alive, and it is motivated by a futile desperation to experience the feeling of warmth again.

In more sympathetic framings, it is described as using its freaky gibbon arms to capture its victims and pull them into an embrace, rather innocently trying to warm itself against their body. This inevitably fails, and the embrace becomes a bone crushing squeeze. When that too fails to warm the ghost, it rips out the person's throat and drinks their blood until the victim is as cold and drained as the pylidaigh itself.

In other cases, this more pitiable narrative of a ghost seeking warmth with no comprehension of its actions is discarded in favor of making it purely monstrous. Here it is a type of vampire with an insatiable thirst, practically a physical manifestation of the worst of winter itself. Some tales acknowledge both variants, suggesting a pylidaigh's violent attempts to warm itself may be initially devoid of malice, but turns into an act of furious jealousy of the warmth of the living after years of suffering.

The only (more or less) surefire method to permanently kill a roaming pylidaigh involves trapping it with fire. They are attracted to any source of heat, and will attempt to warm themselves with the flames (if not tempted away by a juicy living human body). The fire itself cannot kill them (as the sheer cold of their body is more powerful even than flame) but they can be trapped if kept near the fire long enough for the snow it depends upon to melt. This does not kill the pylidaigh either. The monster will remain in stuck in place (and potentially become a threat again if it snows more) for the duration of the winter. Only when the spring comes and all the snow melts does it revert into a normal human carcass (though mysteriously invulnerable to decay), at which point it can be cremated.

Pylidaigh in the wilds also revert to a human corpse during the snowless seasons, but will roam again each following winter unless it is burnt in the interim. It is of critical importance that any human corpse found in high mountain pasture is cremated- not only out of respect for the poor soul trapped as an earthbound ghost, but to prevent the threat of the possible dormant pylidaigh emerging next winter.

[sanjipussyindulgence]

watching the kaiju no. 8 anime and the kafka + reno dynamic is so top-tier. contrasting reno, a sterotypical edgy anime teenager, with kafka, a pretty regular guy in his 30s, has such endless comedy to it.

they're father-son coded but reno did the adopting. he saw how lame and wet kafka was and fetched the adoption papers out himself.

[thehorsesthatareslow]

Aftermath.

[alexandriasarchives]

Almost

Daryl Dixon x Female!Reader

Summary: You and Daryl had been best friends for years. You have had years of unspoken feelings and “almosts”. After leaving the prison and finding a cabin on the way to a supply run, you finally find out if Daryl feels the same way.

You had taken notice of Daryl as soon as you joined the group all those years ago. You saw what seemingly no one had. You had always wondered if he'd ever taken notice of you in the same way. There's been countless times when you go to sneak a glance his way and his eyes are already on you. Endless moments of hands and shoulders brushing ever so slightly against each other, stolen glances at each other's lips, dozens of starry night skies while laying in the damp Atlanta grass. Countless times where you thought an “almost” would become a “finally”.

You snap yourself out of your thoughts because, here the two of you are gearing up at the prison, getting ready for a supply run that would probably take a day and a half to even get to the destination. He looks amazing as his strong arms reach up to close the trunk of the car.

“Ya ready?” he looks over to you curiously as he can probably tell your head is somewhere else.

“Yeah lets get on the road” you say nonchalantly as you round the car and go to open your door. Before your hand can reach the handle Daryl's broad frame quickly comes into view and he reaches out to open the door to the beat up Honda without making eye contact. He's done this before, another overly kind gesture that could possibly mean more and makes your head spin wondering if he actually could feel in some part the same way you do. You smile at the thought and him and get in the car speechlessly, not wanting to create something out of nothing and potentially ruin the friendship you've cherished for years.

He walks over to the driver side door, opens it and gets in. He puts the keys in the ignition and the engine comes to life. The gates slide open for you guys to head out to the main road. The trees pass by along with the occasional walker as you get consumed by your thoughts. The stories you've shared with each other, the secrets. There seemed to be only one thing you couldn't tell this man and it's that you are irrevocably in love with him.

People automatically assume you're together, with all the time you spend together, the way he seems to soften and get comfortable around you, and as Carol likes to call it “the lovesick looks”. According to her, your affections are reciprocated, but you could never dream of making a move until you have full confirmation from him. Your friendship was something you were not willing to put on the line, what you two have means everything in a world like this.

This is torturous. You break the silence.

“You know we're going to have to stop, you can’t drive all night…it's not safe” you say masking your concern for his well being with a priority for safety.

He turns his head to look at you and it almost seems like he's taking you in for a second, his eyes roll up and down your frame and he replies simply, and matter of factly as he turns his attention back to the road

“I'll be fine…” he continues hesitantly “...Yknow id never let anything happen to ya” he looks over once again, he's dead serious and your heart is racing. Is this the moment?

Before you can decide what to say he continues “But if it makes you feel better we can i guess…”. You both start looking for places to stay as you are driving by. You spot an A frame cabin in the distance and lightly shove his shoulder and point in that direction to get his attention. He backs up and pulls off the road. You both step out of the car and instinctively start covering it with branches and bushes.

“Should be good enough, cmon” he says while gesturing forward for you to follow his lead. Something that had been carved out through a lot of bickering over the years. While you follow him up through the trees to the cabin you can't help but notice his broad shoulders, how they've muscled over the years, how they swing while holding his crossbow in one hand. How serious he is about keeping the people he cares about safe. You felt lucky to be included in that circle, and selfish that you wanted more.

You walk up the wooden steps and he turns around to stop you from continuing up with him to the door. He bangs on the frame of the door a few times to gather any attention of walkers while you survey the area for any strays. When he can't hear anything moving inside He goes inside and quickly clears the quaint cabin. He comes back out, naturally bounding down the stairs and says,

“I can't hear nothin movin in there, we’ll stay here. Leave at sunrise.” He says while picking your bag up off the ground and carrying it inside for you without saying another word. You're frozen for a second, your previous thoughts coming to haunt you once again. You quickly snap yourself back to reality and rush up the stairs to catch up and see your abode for the night you.

You take in your surroundings. It's cute. It's a loft style place with a tiny living and dining room as soon as you walk in. With a kitchen a bit further back, the stairs against the wall lead up to a full sized bed that you can see from the door when you first walk in, guarded by a railing.

Besides the dust and panicked “the world is ending” clutter it is very much livable. Something that you'd remember where it is just in case you needed a safe house in the future. You follow Daryl's lead and start looking through cabinets to find something useful before you settle in. There's some leftover canned food in the cupboards and while rummaging through what's good and what's not you feel a slight nudge on your back. You turn and Daryls holding out a book, presumably what you just felt on your shoulder.

“Looks like something you'd like…” He was the most observant person you'd ever met. You told him about this author months ago. He remembered. Why did he remember?

“Thank you…” you say, not being able to help but softly smile at him “...That's really sweet of you…”

His eyes dart between you and the floor seemingly not being able to maintain eye contact with you. Does he feel it now? The heart fluttering, the warmth in your stomach, the rise in heat, the tremble in your throat, legs like jello. You think he might when he goes to say something but simply closes his mouth, turns his eyes towards the floor and almost painfully walks towards the door. He pauses with one hand on the frame and the other with his crossbow. He turns to look over his shoulder and says

“I'll be back, gonna find us somethin to eat…” he says, but there's something in his voice that you're trying to place as the door closes behind him.

Longing.

What if he does feel the same? It's almost as terrifying as if he doesn't. You can't take the not knowing anymore. The “almosts”. An hour or two passes, it's dark now and you're lost in your book as Daryl opens the door, some small game strung over his leather clad shoulder.

He closes the door behind him and stops in front of it, taking in the scene before him. You had started a fire in the small furnace and were curled up with your new gift on the couch. You see him looking over everything and you, like he almost doesn't know what to do next.

“hey…“ you say softly breaking him from the thoughts you could see you could tell were racing behind his eyes.

“Hey” he responds after a second, looking so deeply into your eyes you think you might break right then and there.

All that can be heard is the fire cracking until he sets the small game down and walks towards the old couch that you're sitting on. It creaks as he plops down beside you and the couch dips so you're even closer than you think intended. He kicks his boot clad feet up onto the small table in front of the couch and actually lounges back. He breathes deep and is seemingly relaxed, something that you consider rare for him. You take him in, he looks amazing, strong arms folded behind his head which is laid back, his broad body trails down to his crossed feet on the table. He's immaculate.

“Tell me bout it…” you almost miss what he says as you're too busy checking him out when he continues amidst your silence. “Your book… tell me about it”

You immediately beam a smile at him, ecstatic that he would actually care to hear about something you like so much. You begin delving in with as much detail as you could spare. He is looking at you so sincerely and contently, the moment is filled with such warmth you could explode. One hand is now stroking his chin as he listens intently to every word, soaking up every syllable you say. His eyes are all over you.

“...And that's all I've got so far, i can't wait to finish it” you say taking a deep breath from the monologue you just went on and look from your book to him with a smile. He's looking at you with that look again.

Longing.

Your knee brushes against his outstretched leg and you swear you feel actual sparks. Your eyes flicker down and then back up to see he has not relented his gaze in the slightest

“What is it?” you say.

He shrugs you off with a grunt. You put your book on the table and face your entire body towards him. Knees brushing against him once again. Trying to show that he has your full attention and it isn't going anywhere. You match his eyes and say

“c'mon … we always tell eachother everything” his mouth is slightly agape and you can see his chest rising and falling deeply almost as if he's nervous despite his still relaxed position on this small couch.

He shifts slightly but his gaze doesn't falter.

“You look nice today…” he says lowly and then continues “you always look nice… i jus dont say it enough…” your breath is taken away in that very moment. You can't tell if this is real right now.

“You do too..” you say barely above a whisper, absolutely breathless. This is when he turns his attention to the furnace, you swear you saw a slight blush tinge up his neck to his cheeks. He takes an audibly deep breath and stands. He looks over to you once again and says

“We should get some shut eye, got a long day tomorrow…” You're stunned. If that wasn't the moment then maybe there would never be one. “... I'll take the couch, you take the bed”

You're snapped back into reality once again

“Why don't we share it? I mean we're both adults, besides how often do you get to sleep in a bed that isn't behind bars” you say with a chuckle trying to mask the pang in your chest at another “almost”.

He's stunned in his place at the proposition and you're thinking that maybe you crossed the line when he lets out a simple

“...Sure”

He looks at you hesitantly but follows you up the stairs and you each take a seat on either side of the bed. Now it seems both of you don't know what to do and you're starting to think that maybe this was a bad idea. You take the lead and slowly lay on your back so close to the edge the wind could probably blow you off. He follows your lead and does the same and you're both laying there staring at the ceiling on your backs as the light from the fire flickers on the angled ceiling above you.

Even with you both doing your best to give each other space his broad shoulder is brushing against yours and you feel his pinky graze yours. You suck in for air unable to catch your breath from this innocent touch.

When suddenly you feel his warm, rough hand enclose over your own.

Both of your heads slowly turn to face one another. You're both searching each other's eyes for something.

Permission.

His eyes land on your lips. You realize this is the moment. His eyes meet yours again and you scoot closer to him. Your faces are now inches apart. His chest is rising and falling deeply once again, he's nervous but he lifts his head and moves himself closer so now your lips are only inches apart. You lean your forehead against his and bring a hand up to rest on his cheek. You run your thumb along his lips and swear you feel him shudder beneath your touch. His eyes are darting across your face searching for any hesitation.

“Ya sure?” he says quietly and gravelly. Almost desperately.

“Yes..” You say immediately, breathlessly, and full of certainty. “...Are you?” you continue

“Have been for a while now…” He says while leaning in to lock your lips.

The kiss is soft and hesitant. His slightly chapped lips mold with yours perfectly. You're both testing the waters of something long unspoken. His hand moves to the back of your head , pulling you as close as possible, threading his fingers through your hair as he does. For a second your mind flashes with all the “almosts” and when you pull back for the air you desperately needed you see your “finally” in his eyes. You're both absolutely breathless and buzzing from each other's touch.

He leans his forehead against yours and shuts his eyes for a second almost as if to process what's unfolding before him and says

“I thought this was something i couldn't have… that i didn't deserve.” he opens his eyes and the vulnerability that's there is a rare sight, something you know he doesn't share easily. He looks at you so longingly and dare you say lovingly that you can feel your heart stutter.

You shake your head vehemently in absolute disbelief over his words and raw honesty. You slide your hand that was on his cheek to his strong chest and feel his heart beating beneath your palm. It's steady but fast.

“Ya better than all this, better than me … i know that” He says as his lips twitch into a faint, almost sheepish smirk. He momentarily averts his head and eyes to the ceiling. You move your hand back to his cheek and softly turn his face to look at you again.

“You don't get to decide that…” You say while stroking his cheek and pushing his hair out of his eyes. “You've been everything to me for so long. I don't care what kind of world we're in. I want you. Just you.” You whisper the last part against his lips. He breathes deeply in for air desperately trying to fill his lungs back up with air from the girl who stole it from him. He’s utterly taken with what you just said, what he desperately needed to hear from you for years. He's never felt or had love like this. It's almost overwhelming for him. His eyes have a gloss to them and they say everything that you've been needing from him for years.

He softly and slowly grabs your waist to turn you from your back, to your side to face him and he does the same so you're fully pressed into his wide, strong chest. Your legs tangle together and of all the times you both had dreamed of this moment, this is somehow better.

[itsmebeff]

sans and alphys dark world forms!!

[obsob]

days are getting warmer but i am always warm when im with you ! !

[yuwuta]

childhood friends to lovers with yuuji is like he’s five and he catches frogs in the lake near his house on weekends fishing w his grandpa and brings them to you like a courting gift (and gets sad when his grandpa tells him he’s got to let them go again, but yuuji promises to catch even more for you next weekend). he’s six and learns he likes to cook and starts making snacks for you and always sits next to you at lunch to give them to you. he’s seven and very definitive that you’re his best friend in the whole world and he doesn’t leave your side during class or lunch or recess or ever. he’s eight and you’re much better at reading than him, but he’s not jealous or upset because that means sometimes you read the harder books to/with him and he learns he loves hearing your voice when you read out loud. he’s nine when he learns he’s got an older brother and even tho he takes to choso quickly, he doesn’t really trust him until you meet choso and declare that you think he’s cool. he’s ten and that summer you go away to sleep away camp for the first time and yuuji cries the first night you’re gone, but choso helps him write and mail letters to you while you’re away, and every weekend yuuji is up 8am to greet the mailman and receive his letter back from you.

he’s eleven when you both start middle school and it’s the first time you both aren’t in the same homeroom, but that doesn’t stop yuuji—he’s sitting by your desk before you even get to school, he’s outside of your classroom before lunch, walks to your classroom after lunch, the first face you see. he’s twelve the first time he realizes that you’re pretty—you’ve always been pretty, but this is different; you’re pretty like sunlight, pretty like his favorite meal, pretty like feeling of coming home. you’re thirteen the first time you get a love letter on valentine’s day, but it’s not from yuuji—it’s another boy in your homeroom that yuuji doesn’t like very much and he never knew why until that day.

once he learns he likes to cook, he starts making snacks for you and gives them to you at lunch and it escalates into packing you bentos almost every day when you two start high school. he’s sixteen when prom rolls around and he’s rocking on his heels asking you to go with him—“as friends, you know haha. if you want, since you’re not going with anybody else and—well megumi and nobara are doing the same thing so i thought? maybe it would work for us, too?”—and when you say yes he tries to play it cool but he jumps and clicks his heels on his way to run and tell megumi about it (and then choso takes approximately 400 pictures of you and yuuji before you two head off to the dance).

it’s not until he’s twenty and a junior in college, and you’ve caught your first sort of serious boyfriend cheating that yuuji finally says something. he always says he wishes it was more romantic, but even now at twenty-six as you watch yuuji laugh with everyone at your rehearsal dinner, and look the collage of pictures choso has proudly displayed, you can’t help but think that it was the perfect confession—that everything about yuuji has always been perfect and that you’re beyond lucky to have him. and when yuuji catches your eye across the table, he smiles all dopey again like he’s five and just caught that frog for you for the first time and you’ve become the center of his world all over again.

[brighteuphony]

@xoxo-lahh

So in this verse, Tsunade never ends up teaching Sakura- as that role is fulfilled by Chiyo. (But she DOES return to Konoha eventually).

And Chiyo's first rule (for everything lol) is: Nothing is Free.

Chiyo always demanded something in return for healing, and unlike Tsunade, she considered medical jutsu a part of her arsenal. If it could kill, then it was always an option.

So Sakura learned from that mindset, trading her services and using her rare skillet as a powerful negotiating tactic, especially during Tea Country's civil war. Her healing effectively kept her, Enji, and Saeko in relative safety and provided her a card to play when she needed.

And, while Sakura is nowhere near as jaded as Chiyo is, and often enough of a bleeding heart to help people for damn near free, (a place to stay, food for the night, a new holster for her kunai), she is also VERY pragmatic about her skillset. The civil war taught her that sometimes, letting someone die is better. This puts her at odds with Tsunade, who has a very different mindset (and was, historically, bitter enemies with Chiyo).

Another issue that arises with Tsunade, is that the Godaime is a doctor- while Chiyo is more of a healer. Their understanding of the human body comes from a different place.

Tsunade can name every bone and muscle and perform open-heart surgeries. Sakura can heal bone and stitch back together muscles and flesh on a very basic level, but she's never going to be able to open up a human body and revolutionize medical history like she does in canon. (In canon, Sakura creates a Jutsu that allows her to do a four-man surgery alone; she can't do that here.)

However, she can do some stuff that Tsunade claims is impossible—like reconstructing/altering someone's chakra network, unblocking tenketsu, sometimes turning off someone's dojutsu from a distance, and lite-healing remotely (Tsunade is very upset about this one specifically). A lot of it comes from her mastery of Genjutsu.

Genjutsu, as I reworked in my comic, requires a complete understanding of someone's chakra network to control ALL their senses. Sakura's understanding and control are so prodigious that she can almost autonomously control people's bodily functions (a skillset that is GREATLY aided by training with Chiyo's puppet mastery).

She uses Genjutsu as a tool to understand the body and employs it as both support (helping an ally maintain a sense of gravity as they're pulled underground or flung in the air, etc) and offense.

And that's it for the wall of text! Once again, thank you SO much for the amazingly kind words and all the interest in this AU! <3

[animatedjen]

Traitor Inquisitorius | Jedi Survivor

[rad-roche]

LEAD PAINT

[x-i-l-verify]

Something that I've noticed ever since the Smiling Critters were introduced is that they can so easily be paired off into complementary duos, ones that are specifically designed to teach children fundamental lessons about life and self-care from two different angles. It's really interesting to me.

Like obviously you have Dogday and Catnap, with their sun/moon, dog/cat dichotomy, that stress how important it is to have fun and get things done during the day, but also that it's important to wind down, relax, and get a good night's sleep.

-

Bubba Bubbaphant and Craftycorn were introduced as a duo in the Smiling Critter show's intro, and their dichotomy is quite obvious. They are basically the right and left sides of the brain personified. Bubba is the left side of the brain, logical, analytical, focused on math and science. Craftycorn is the right side of the brain, creative and imaginative, focused on the arts and self-expression. They represent learning and academia in all its forms, the different ways people engage with and understand the world.

-

Hoppy Hopscotch and Kickin' Chicken form the sportsmanship duo. They are both portrayed as enjoying sports and the outdoors, but in different ways that highlight the different ways sports can be played and enjoyed and also what it entails to be successful at them. Hoppy Hopscotch may be loud and impatient, but she is also a team player, shown in her willingness to slow down her fast pace to make sure none of her friends are left behind. Kickin' Chicken, on the other hand, is laid-back, relaxed, and chill, the described "cool kid" of the group, but he's also described as having a ton of perseverance, more of a "slow and steady wins the race" type of person.

-

This leaves Bobby Bearhug and Picky Piggy as the last pair. Fittingly, these two are all about how to meet the fundamental needs of yourself and others. Bobby teaches children how to nourish themselves emotionally through showing and receiving care from others, while Picky teaches them how good food is important to nourish the body and soul. Depriving oneself of either of these things only makes oneself and therefore everyone around one miserable, because those fundamental needs are no longer being met.

-

Like fr, this is some pretty genius marketing right here. You have enough characters that every kid will have their favorite, but not so many that any would get lost in the shuffle, because the lessons each one of them would teach would be integral to the group as a whole. It really makes me that much sadder we saw basically nothing of the Smiling Critters during the game itself, because Mob Games struck gold with this concept, only to ultimately do nothing with it. :/

But I guess that's what fandom is for, eh?

[wackarat]

I don’t think bestie can swim…

[cravingrickgrimes]

CHAPTER ONE | ❝IN THE DIM LIGHT❞

rick!grimes x male!reader (smut) top!rick x bottom!reader

multi chapters / not finished word count: 1018

summary: You were relatively new to the prison. You had the same story as most of these folks here—no family, and alone. On your fifth day here you got your first work assignment. You manage to get paired up for field duty on the prison… in the blistering heat. It wasn’t until a few minutes in the heat that your work-assigned partner finally arrives…Rick Grimes.

CHAPTER TWO ->

CHAPTER ONE:

The mid-summer heat was dreadful. Far worse, in fact. It was terrible enough that you were assigned field duty today, even worse when you realised you were going to have to do most of the work by yourself. You realised quickly that the jacket sticking to your back would be no help so you escaped it before it could do you anymore discomfort. You assumed the partner you were assigned with had just never gotten out of bed. That is, until you saw him walking right toward you. His hips jutted out gracefully from his sides as he grinned slightly. As he exited the prisons shadows he placed a hand on his already sweaty forehead, eyes trying desperately to hide from the sun. He was stunning, and you don’t even think that was half of what he was.

“Hiya.” He smiled. “Rick” He stared at you for those few seconds before he corrected himself with a chuckle accompanying it. “I’m Rick Grimes.” You fought your teeth to stop them from biting their lips at his southern drawl. It was the most attractive thing you’d ever heard that’s for sure.

“Hi.” You gave him the tightest smile possible and took a sip of your water.

“Hot isn’t it. This shirt won’t do any good today.” His strong hands clicked each button undone. You couldn’t help but gaze at the way his veiny hands undid each button on his shirt. Was he trying to get you wet? It was surely working. “Sorry ‘bout that.” His shirt was off. He was sweating. His shirt was off, and he was close to you.

Too close.

He looked as if carved by gods. His pecs were like plates of the finest armour. And not to mention the sharp defined abs that were riddled on his chest. Small dark-brown hairs were sprinkled on his chest. As if to hook you even more a trail of hair went from his bellybutton to…

Oh God. You thought. This day is going to truly be hell.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

It had been two hours now. An hour of being remotely near Rick Grimes would have any person completely on their knees. But two? You were struggling not to strip right here and now. The weeds surrounding clothe prisons walls were almost done. The both of you agreed to start on opposite ends and make your way to each other. You agreed, drunk on the way his body shone in the sun.

Now you and Rick were almost done, he was quite literally almost touching you. You pulled on the weed aggressively. It was to no avail. You pulled and tugged, but nothing. “Y’kay?” His southern accent was thick, but you took that to mean “you okay?”.

“Yeah, fine, just—a strong weed!”

“Ah, let me help darlin’” Not helping! You almost shouted. He moved behind you and grabbed the weed whilst your hands were still clasped around the stubborn thing. You were trapped under his strong grasp. Trapped under him. Trapped and smelling him. He pulled but it didn’t budge. You both moved with the tug and it looked and felt too much like a thrust. Your face flushed quicker than you could stop it. As inconveniently as it was you suddenly remembered him calling you darlin’ and you would give anything for him to say it again.

“Sorry ‘bout this.” He chuckled nervously. So he did know how awkward this was? He came off so confident you would have never guessed. He may not be as confident as you first thought, but he is as compelling. Your eyes followed his arm muscles as they tensed under the strain. He pulled again but nothing happened. Rick leaned back and thrusted into you to try and get a better grip. You stifled your moan. No. You forced your mind to be clear. Rick Grimes is not fucking you. All he’s doing is helping you out. That’s all. You could have sworn you felt something hard and stiff at your backside but he pulled the weed out before you could feel it again. He waved a hand of apology.

“You weren’t lying,” He ran a hand through his soaking hair and you noticed that every part of him was sweating. “really was strong.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

You sat in bed that very night with only one thought on your mind. How was Rick Grimes’ pace in bed? It wasn’t the most appropriate thought but those thrusts were…thought provoking… to say the least. The prison was quiet that night, as if even the prison was trying to get you to do what you wanted. And all you wanted was to touch yourself. To touch yourself and think of Rick Grimes every time you slide your hand up and down your cock.

You did just that.

You didn’t need to get hard, you already had been the moment you saw Rick take his shirt off. Maybe even before that if you were being honest. It felt fucking amazing. You stroked your length once thinking only of his chiselled body. The second time his thrusts. The third his scent. You almost kept to that cycle of those three things until you got to the topic of his cock in your mind.

You spat on your hand and kept stroking. This was getting good. You imagined a six inch cock—modest, considering the large lump you felt between his legs earlier that day was just that…large. You thought of a thick foreskin covering almost all of his head. You could almost physically see the amount of veins crawling up from the base of his cock to right before the head. You could see yourself sucking and worshipping the man’s dick.

You knew all too well that you would if you had the chance. You prayed that it tasted just like he had smelt in that blistering heat, like a man.

Your cock pulsed quicker in your hands now. You imagined you were giving Rick a handjob. God it was the best thing you could have done. You squirmed against your pillow whilst you released your hot cum onto your chest.

[louferignojr]

*insert cheesy romantic music here*