#Georgian suggestions

[rendingrocks]

“You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope...I have loved none but you. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago."

Persuasion, Jane Austen

#jane austen #persuasion #Emma #pride and prejudice #romanticism #love letter #classic literature #english literature #literature quotes #book aesthetic #dark academia aesthetic #dark academia #light academia #henry winter #the secret history #kafka #keats #shelley #byron #Georgian suggestions #oscar wilde #taylor swift #Shakespeare #victorian era #poetry #painting #art #dead poets society #Achilles #existentialism

[rheya28]

Ridgeview Apartment [ Apartment + Gym + Bar] ♥ The Sims 4: Speed Build // CC

➽ Apartment Includes:

An open/closed concept floor plan. Kitchen with all new appliances Bathroom with shower and bath Gym & Bar Panoramic view of the city

➽ Apartment Units:

1st Floor: lobby, Bar and Gym 2nd Floor [Unit 1: 3 Bed, 2 Bath] [Unit 2: 1 Bed, 1 Bath] 3rd Floor [Unit 3: 3 Bed, 2 Bath] [Unit 4: 1 Bed, 1 Bath] 4th Floor [Unit 5: 4 Bed, 3 Bath]

● Please make sure to turn bb.moveobjects on! ● Please DO NOT reupload or claim as your own. ● Feel free to tag me if you are using it, I love seeing my build in other peoples save file ● Feel free to edit/tweak my builds, but please make sure to credit me as the original creator! ● Thank you to all CC Creators ● Please let me know if there's any problem with the build

➽ SPEED BUILD VIDEO

00:00 Beginning 00:02 Intro 1:00 Speed Build 17:30 Photos

➽ LOT DETAILS

Lot Name: Ridgeview Apartment Lot type: Apartment Complex w/ gym and bar Lot size: 40x30 Location: Windenburg

➽ MODS

Tool Mod by Twisted Mexi

➽ CC LIST:

Note: I reuse a lot of the same cc in all my builds, specifically cc's from felixandre, HeyHarrie, and Pierisim so if you're interested in downloading past, present, future build from me i suggest getting all their cc sets to make downloading a little easier! other creators include Sooky, Charlypancakes, Sixam, Thecluttercat, Myshunosun, awingedllama, and tuds. This will also ensure that the lots are complete and are not missing any items upon downloading !

Additional notes: You do not need to download all of the cc on the list as I only used 1 or 2 items from some of these set. Some items can be easily be replaced by what you already have!

I would however, download all heyharrie, pierisim, and felixandre sets that are listed as I used alot of their cc in the exterior and interior!

S-imagination : Nota Living Room [ Ceiling light Only]

Around the Sim: Shop sign [Barber sign only]

The Clutter Cat: Busy bee Pt 1 [ Green table Plant only], Dandy Diary [ Concrete coffee table only]

House of Harlix : Bafroom, Baysic, Harluxe, Livin Rum, Orjanic, Kichen

Bbygyal123: Balance Collection [ Yoga mat ]

Felix Andre: Berlin Pt 3 [ Office chair only], Chateau, FLorence, Colonial Pt 3, Grove Pt 4, Kyoto Pt 2, London Interior, Paris Pt 1 2 3, Grove

Charlypancakes: Maple &S Construction Pt 3, Soak

Harrie: Brutalist, Coastal, Klean

Joyce : Forever Autumn [ Curtains only]

Peacemaker: Graciously Georgian, Paige Armchair, Hamptons Hideaway [Ceiling light only]

Pierisim: Coldbrew, Combles, David Apartment, Domaine Du Close, MCM, Oak House, Winter Garden, Woodland Ranch

Charlypancakes x Pierisim: Precious Promises [ Chair only ]

*Ravasheen: Uplifting Elevator [MOD]

Simkoos: Everyday Clutter Add-on

Simplistic: Rustic Rug Trio

Sixam: Hotel Bedroom [ Desk only], Small spaces Laundry room

Syboulette: Fitness

Tuds: Cross

*Zulf: Let's get fit [MOD] -optional-

● Tray File: Patreon Page ● Origin ID: Applez ● Twitter: Rheya28__ ● Tiktok: Rheya28__ ● Patreon: Rheya28 ● Youtube: Rheya28__

#ts4 #sims 4 #thesims4 #sims #thesims #showusyourbuilds #sims 4 cc #sims 4 builds #sims 4 screenshots #builds #build #the sims 4 cc build #simblr #the sims 4 for rent

[snailspng]

Where I find images to make into PNGs

Museum / collection websites

Rijksmuseum • Metropolitan Museum of Art • National Gallery of Art • The Walters Art Museum • Europeana • Public Domain Review  • The British Library • Victoria & Albert Museum • Wellcome Collection • Risd Museum • Phoenix Ancient Art • Staatliche Kunstsammlungen Dresden • Georgian National Museum • Internet Archive • Getty Images • Louvre • Statens Historiska Muséer • Museum of Applied Arts • Royal Collection Trust • The Walters Art Museum • Science Museum Group • Kunst Historiches Museum Wien • The David Collection • MAK collection

+ pretty much any museum site with a virtual collection

Auction websites

1stDibs • Sothebys • Ruby Lane • Live Auctioneers • Christie’s • Timeline Auctions • Heritage Auctions • Auctionet • Hindman Auctions

Various

My pinterest • Worthpoint • Etsy • Shoplook • Wikimedia Commons • Replacements

Google reverse image search > “find image source” > “visually similar images”

Other PNG blogs

goobersplat • gooberscollage • vile-things • encyclopaedia-ornithonesiae • oceantoyz • transparensies • png-magician • whizpurr • adjpngs • transpareats • transparentstickers • transparenzz • pngtrash • fruit-prince • honeyrolls • bleedingthroughteeth • png-heaven

-

(I will be updating this list! If you have suggestions or would like to add or remove your blog from the list, message me)

#there are many more but this is a few of them #i've gotten so many asks about this so i thought a list might be fun #feel free to follow me on pinterest i just started using it more #link to it is under various #hope it helps #faq #png #pngs #moodboard #artboard #transparent #stickers #polyvore #shoplook #imageboard #collage

[matan4il]

Hello hello, sending hugs as always!

I was hoping you maybe be able to give me some inspiration for a small series of food photos I'm assembling for Channukah! I'm doing an 8 part series celebrating the different groups within Judaism to 1. Be loudly and proudly Jewish at this current time, and 2. raise awareness for non-ashki Jews. In the UK it's super hard to find many non ashki peeps which makes it hard to chat to people about other classic Channukah foods, but I was wondering if you knew of any particularly good ones (that aren't latke or sufganiyot)? Would hugely appreciate any suggestions you have!!

Hi darling, sending you the biggest hugs right back! <3

Oooh, Hanukkah foods! I'm not gonna lie, some of my fave Jewish foods come from this holiday. With your permission, I'll give a small introduction, just for anyone reading, who might be unfamiliar with Hanukkah, and curious... and also talk about some of the lesser known Hanukkah food traditions among European Jews, too.

So during Hanukkah, we celebrate a miracle that happened with the oil at the Temple in Jerusalem. After the Jews defeated the occupying Greek forces that had desecrated our Temple, we wanted to light again the eternal flame of the Menorah (the Temple candelabra) with olive oil, but after the destruction caused by the Greek forces, there was only enough left for one day, and it would take 8 days to get more oil. The miracle is that somehow, that small amount of oil lasted for the whole 8 days, meaning the light didn't go out again. To remember this miracle, we eat food fried in oil! Being Jewish is so good for your health. XD

In shops and bakeries around Israel, there are already sufganiot being sold. They are YUMMY, and while some people call them "the Jewish donuts," I can say that after having eaten American donuts, I def think sufganiot are way yummier (in part 'coz they're not as "heavy" because the dough it's made of is fluffier? More... airy? Not sure how to say it, but I hope you get the idea). Also, you don't get robbed, because someone made a hole in the middle of the sufgania, taking out nearly half of it. The traditional type has strawberry jam injected inside, and sugar powder on top, but in Israel there are some crazy fancy kinds, and every year they seem to become more extravagant.

Traditional sufganiot (you can see a bit of the jam on top, but half the fun is biting and getting to the "treasure" of lots of jam at the center of the sufgania):

Fancy sufganiot:

Then there's the latkes, or as they're called in Hebrew, levivot. They're like savoury pancakes made out of potatoes, and obviously they're fried in oil.

In many Jewish communities, there was a custom of giving kids special pocket money for Hanukkah. In Israel, this "money" is given in the form of chocolate "coins." I freaking loved this as a kid! It was fun unwrapping the "coins," eating the chocolate, and then (assuming I was careful when peeling them off), make a collection of the different "coins," or just play with the wrap.

Greek Jews used to make a bread from potatoes and yogurt:

Georgian Jews made levivot out of corn flour (sometimes filled with cheese), or out of potatoes AND nuts, giving it the shape of a big omelette. Here's the corn flour version:

Czech Jews had a custom saying goose is the best meat, so for Hanukkah, they often ate goose related dishes. For example, they would make levivot from potatoes, eggs, sugar, lemon and goose fat.

French and Swiss Jews would make levivot out of apples.

The Jews of Iraq, Algeria and Buchara (which is in Uzbekistan) used to put the Hanukkah pocket money for the kids inside honey cakes. In Algeria and Buchara they also sometimes made levivot with meat added inside.

The Jews of Romania and Austria used to light potato Hanukkah candles! This was likely because they were so poor. Still, a pretty cool thing, when you can light your candle, and eat it (or at least a part of it), too.

In northern Africa, Jews used to make a type of cookie called Debla (sometimes nicknamed "dough roses"), which originated in Libya. They're usually eaten with a sweet syrup. It's more of a Purim dish (the equivalent of Hamantaschen), but was sometimes prepared for Hanukkah as well. Traditional Debla:

And a slightly "fancier" Israeli version:

Okay, maybe my fave Hanukkah dish! It's called sfinge (the 'ge' is pronounced like in "sponge"), and it's basically the Moroccan sufgania, which later became popular among Tunisia and Libya Jews, too. It can be round with a hole in the middle, it can be in the shape of a ball, while Libyan Jews make it flat. It's eaten with either honey or sugar powder, but again, in Israel fancier versions developed... I'm not a great cook, so IDK to explain why, but it's even fluffier than the sufgania, and that's why it's my personal fave.

Traditional sfinge with honey:

With sugar powder:

Israelis always having to make everything fancier:

They even made a savoury version of flat sfinge...

I hope this helps! Have a wonderful day, darling! xoxox

#judaism #jewish #jew #jumblr #frumblr #ask #classical-memeician #jews #jewish stuff #hanukkah #jewish history #jewish food #foodgasm

[dalivanmagritte]

NCT FIC REC : LEE JENO

back to the nct fic rec

Jeno fic rec part.2

lionheart (fav, smut, fluff, royal!au, knight!au, monarch!au)

premium boy-toy (fav, smut, stripper!au)

step on a crack, dr.lee's gonna break your back (fav, smut)

wanna know what it's like (fav, smut)

yours to tame (fav, fluff, smut, knight!au, princess!au, royal!au)

koi no yokan (fav, smut, abo!au)

slick pup (fav, pervert!au, smut)

prince of wolves (fav, smut, werewolf!au, vampire!au)

i suddenly realize my archnemesis is hot (fav,fluff, angstish, demigod!au, mythology!au)

pride & perjudice (fav, fluff, angst, smut)

secret (smut, fluff, sub!jeno (kink discovery))

my sunset is yours (fluff, hogwarts!au)

helping hand (fluff, hogwarts!au)

sweet lies (smut, angstish, ghost!jeno!au)

heatstroke (mechanic!au, smut)

transfiguration spell (smut, fluff, angstish, hogwarts!au)

sinking ships (smut, sailor!au, mermaid!au, horror!au)

tattooist!jeno (fluff, angst, tattooist!au, florist!au)

himbo (smut, himbo!jeno)

cute little intern (smut, ceo!au, intern!au)

mine only (smut)

possessive dad! (smut, pregnancy!au, soon to be parents!au)

ridin' club switching lanes (smut, streeracer!au)

sweet fury (smut)

rainfall (fluff)

the deal (fluff, college!au)

cigarettes after sex (fluff, angstish, suggestive, college!au)

just so you know x jaemin (smut)

change in you (smut, vampire!au, georgian-era!au)

puppy (smut, supernatural!au, werewolf!au)

sunshine (fluff, angst, mermen!jeno)

hit the breaks! (serie, smut, streetracer!au, mechanics!au)

rich purity (serie, smut, virgin!au)

the lucky one (fluff, angst, demigod!au, mythology!au)

son of morpheus (fluff, demigod!au, mythology!au)

son of apollo (fluff, demigod!au, mythology!au)

son of shadows (part of elysios serie, fluff, demigod!au, mythology!au)

the tale older than time (fluff, demigod!au, mythology!au)

late night company (fluff, comfort angst, demigod!au)

scream (smut (dirty smutt), halloween!au, ghostface!jeno)

possessive jeno (smut, roommate)

a different kind of exercise (smut, personal trainer!au)

the rock of gibraltar (smut)

jeno uses his strength against you (smut)

why dying my hair was the best decision of my life (fluff)

the bat & dove (smut, fluff, mafia!au, racer!jeno)

do you even know how to have fun? (angst to fluff, badboy!au)

take my breath (smut, abo!au)

puppy pound (smut, abo!au)

jealous (smut, abo!au)

sos x jaemin (smut, abo!au)

destiny (smut, abo!au)

i'm a mouse duh! x jaemin (smut)

they're roommates x jaemin (smut)

sos x jaemin (smut, abo!au)

stepbro alpha jeno (smut, abo!au, stepbro!au)

day6: overstimulation (smut)

day19: pet play (smut)

banana (smut)

guardian gloves (smut, angstish, boxer!au)

teddy bear (smut)

strong jeno (smut)

codename : monster (smut)

his order (smut, ceo!au)

sli(ck-p)up (smut, perv!jeno)

fireproof (smut, brotherbf!au, college!au)

size kink (smut)

only 'til dawn (smut, badboy!jeno, goodgirl!reader)

little wifey (smut, husband!au)

pretzel (smut, abo!au)

hard dom! (smut)

wrapped around your fingers (smut)

phone fuck me (smut, ghostface!au)

my first and last (smut, college!au)

the sequel x jaemin (smut, ghostface!au, halloween!au)

incubus!jeno (smut, incubus!au)

summer hair = forever young (smut, fluff)

cookie jar x jaemin (smut, stepbrother!au)

perv!jeno (smut, roommates!au, perv!au)

monster in hiding (smut, stalking!au)

can't take it? (smut)

can you handle it? x johnny, jaehyun, jaemin (smut)

ascention to the throne (serie, smut, royal!au, prince!au, political!au)

baby trapping (smut, sugardaddy!au)

shameless (smut, stepson!au)

undone (noncon, smut)

teddy bear -> our sick story, thus far x haechan (dubcon, smut)

stepbro!jeno part.2 (DUBCON, smut, stepbrother!au)

behind closed doors x haechan (smut, slight dubcon, stepbro!au)

the walls are thin x jaemin (DUBCON, smut)

shoplifter x mark (dubcon, smut, bodyguard!au, stepfather!au)

switch -> chain x johnny (dubcon, smut, neighbour?au)

arcade (continuation of switch/chain, smut)

#nct #jeno #smut #fic rec #fluff #lee jeno #jeno smut #jeno fluff #jeno angst #jeno scenarios #jeno imagines #jeno fic #nct jeno #jeno x reader #jeno oneshot #nct dream #nct fic #nct imagines #nct x reader

[sixteenseveredhands]

Medieval Hermitage atop Katskhi Pillar, in Georgia (South Caucasus), c. 800-900 CE: this church was built during the Middle Ages; it sits atop a limestone column that has been venerated as a "Pillar of Life" for thousands of years

Known as Katskhi Pillar (or Katskhis Sveti), this enormous block of limestone is located in western Georgia, about 10km from the town of Chiatura.

The church that stands atop Katskhi Pillar was originally constructed during the 9th-10th century CE. It was long used as a hermitage for Stylites, who are sometimes referred to as "Pillar Saints" -- Christian ascetics who lived, prayed, and fasted atop pillars, often in total isolation, in an effort to bring themselves closer to God. This tradition originated in Syria during the 5th century CE, when a hermit known as Simeon the Elder purportedly climbed up onto a pillar and then stayed there for nearly 40 years, giving rise (no pun intended) to the Stylites. Stylitism managed to survive for about 1,000 years after its inception, but it gradually began to die out during the late Middle Ages, and by the end of the 16th century, it had essentially gone extinct.

Researchers don't really know how the monks originally gained access to the top of Katskhi Pillar, or how they were able to transport their building materials up to the top of the column. There's evidence that the Stylites were still living at Katskhi Pillar up until the 15th century, but the site was then abandoned shortly thereafter. This was the same period in which Georgia came under Ottoman rule, though it's unclear whether or not that may have played a role in the abandonment of the site.

The hermitage continued to lay abandoned for nearly 500 years after that. No one had been able to gain access to the top of the pillar, and very little was even known about the ruins that lay scattered at the top, as knowledge about the site's origin/history was gradually lost. There are many local legends that emerged as a way to fill in those blanks.

The site was not visited again until July 29th, 1944, when a mountaineer finally ascended to the top of the column with a small team of researchers, and the group performed the first archaeological survey of the ruins. They found that the structure included three hermit cells, a chapel, a wine cellar, and a small crypt; within the crypt lay a single set of human remains, likely belonging to one of the monks who had inhabited the site during the Middle Ages.

A metal ladder (the "stairway to Heaven") was ultimately installed into the side of the pillar, making it much easier for both researchers and tourists to gain access to these ruins.

The hermitage at the top of Katskhi Pillar actually became active again in the early 1990's, when a small group of monks attempted to revive the Stylite tradition. A Georgian Orthodox monk named Maxime Qavtaradze then lived alone at the top of Katskhi Pillar for almost 20 years, beginning in 1995 and ending with his death in 2014. He is now buried at the base of the pillar.

While the hermitage is no longer accessible to the public, and it is currently uninhabited, it's still visited by local monks, who regularly climb up to the church in order to pray. There is also an active monastery complex at the base of the pillar, where a temple known as the Church of the Simeon Stylites is located.

The Church of the Simeon Stylites: this church is located within an active monastery complex that has been built at the base of the pillar; several frescoes and religious icons decorate the walls of the church, and a small shrine containing a 6th century cross is located in the center

There are many lingering questions about the history of Katskhi Pillar, particularly during the pre-Christian era. There is at least some evidence suggesting that it was once the site of votive offerings to pagan deities, as a series of pre-Christian idols have been found buried in the areas that surround the pillar; according to local tradition, the pillar itself was once venerated by the pagan societies that inhabited the area, but it's difficult to determine the extent to which these claims may simply be part of the mythos that surrounds Katskhi Pillar, particularly given its mysterious reputation.

Sources & More Info:

BBC: Georgia's Daring, Death-Defying Pilgrimage

CNN: Katskhi Pillar, the Extraordinary Church where Daring Monks Climb Closer to God

Radio Free Europe: Georgian Monk Renews Tradition, Lives Atop Pillar

Architecture and Asceticism (Ch. 4): Stylitism as a Cultural Trend Between Syria and Georgia

Research Publication from the Georgian National Museum: Katskhi Pillar

Journal of Nomads: Katskhi Pillar, the Most Incredible Cliff Church in the World

Georgian Journal: Georgia's Katskhi Pillar Among World's 20 Wonderfully Serene and Secluded Places

#archaeology #history #anthropology #artifact #medieval architecture #medieval church #Stylites #asceticism #georgia #sakartvelo #katskhi pillar #religion #travel #monastery #paganism #caucasus #medieval europe #christianity #strange places

[the-dixon-effect]

Sweet Interruptions

A/N: thanks so much @matilda4eve for this request which you can find here 💕image creds @Emotionalady on pinterest | i had so much fun writing this and i really hope you guys enjoy because as usual i was up in the earliest hours of the morning writing this 😭

summary: Y/N and Daryl are both secretly pining for each other, and it takes all manner of 'interruptions' to bring them together.

era: season 3-4, prison era

pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader

words: 2.3k

warnings: suggestive, Merle being annoying, basically no warnings ^_^

The Georgian wind was hot against your bare shoulders as you stood in the prison yard. It didn't go unnoticed by the other residents how, like always, you appeared lost in your thoughts as you idly gazed at the archer who was working a considerable distance away. Despite having spoken, maybe, two words to Daryl, you were already in deep. You watched his arms flex, those irresistibly tanned biceps contract and relax as if he were a sculptor shaping a beautiful piece of art, when in reality he was simply tweaking his motorcycle. You admired the way his unkempt chocolate hair framed his pretty face, and, when you caught sight of those gorgeous cerulean eyes that seemed invisible to everyone else, it felt enough to just look at him, without needing any attention from him whatsoever. You adored all of him, not just his appearance, and simply from observation you could tell he was a troubled man. How you dreamt of wiping away those tears you knew Daryl hid away somewhere deep inside, reserved for those cold nights spent alone. You dreamt of holding him tight, feeling his big arms wrap around your waist, kissing him anywhere you could reach and-

You were enraptured. And today, it would take some groundbreaking event to drag you from your wild imagination. Just the sight of him working on his bike had you rubbing your thighs together. You loved the way his brows furrowed in concentration, and you couldn't help but imagine him doing other things with those skilled hands.

With blown-out pupils and parted lips, you had lost all sense of where you were and what you might look like gawking at the archer. A forceful hand on your shoulder made you practically jump out of your skin as you took in your surroundings in an instant. You turned your body sharply to face whoever had, somewhat rudely, in your opinion, interrupted your typical daydreams. You recognized the woman and thank God it was a friend, not someone with too many questions about what you were doing, you thought, now considering that your staring might have been a little excessive. It was Maggie, and that familiar Southern drawl reached your ears before you could register the mischievous look she was giving you.

"Aren't ya 'sposed to be workin' out here?" she said, with a very obvious smirk painting the subtle lines on her face. When you realised that she could see straight through you, you decided it was no use denying your little crush any longer. Rubbing your hand on the back of your clammy neck, you spoke quietly, smirking a little yourself.

"It's not like I got something better to do," you said, blushing.

"Well," she began, stringing out the syllable in a playful tone, "you could be helpin' me insteada' standin' out here like a deer in headlights."

You hummed, "Or, I could stay right here." you said with a giggle.

Sure, everybody knew about your infatuation, and sure, Daryl had noticed too. Unbeknownst to you, he had caught himself stealing glances at you too. He noticed the little things, the kind of things any other lust-filled guy wouldn't see. The silkiness of your hair, the precious flare in your cheeks after spending a day in the sun, your beautiful wide smile, the way your cheeks crease when you smile, the gleam in those bewitching eyes when you're looking at him. You were so... sweet. That's it, sweet. If he could define your being in one word, that would be it. Sweet. So sickeningly sweet, Daryl concluded that he'd never met anyone so soft and pure in his life before.

Sometimes, he hated it. What was a girl like you doing in a world like this? Surely, he thought, it would catch up to you soon enough and you'd die at the hands of-

Daryl could hear his brother's voice ringing in his ears.

Ya gon' protect her, lil' bro? She sure needs it, pretty thing won't survive long on her own.

A part of him feared that the memory of Merle's cynicism was right. Except, unlike other times, he wanted to protect you. For the first time, the idea of making a girl feel safe didn't come as a burden. The desire to keep you from harm came unfamiliar to him. It was a strange feeling that, despite the barriers he built that were supposed to guard him from these superficial affections, began to pierce his thoughts and corrupt his selfish notions. It started in the daytime, when he found himself glimpsing at you from a distance, then thinking about you, what you might feel like under his hands, so deliciously forbidden. Then thoughts of you entered his mind at night, and waves of guilt didn't cease to wash over him every time he buried his calloused hands beneath the rough denim of his jeans.

Your presence was angelic, he couldn't bring himself to deny that. If only he could work up the courage just to talk to you.

She don't wantchu, baby brother! What's a cute girl like her gon' wanna do with ya?

Nah, this time, Merle was wrong. Daryl had seen the way you looked at him, the way the corners of your mouth tugged up in a slightly mischievous grin when the two of you locked eyes across the room, right? Yes. This time, his anxiety and self-consciousness were not going to get the better of him.

The next day, Daryl's fingers tightly gripped the metal hand railing of the prison staircase, threatening to turn white if he didn't loosen his grasp. He was staring you down, having lost a little bit of the sudden confidence he found himself equipped with yesterday. Maybe he should talk to Rick, or Glenn? They were good with girls, right? Perhaps they'd offer the right advice for Daryl's foreign predicament.

Before Daryl could consider what he might say to the more 'experienced' men of the group, he was approached by Glenn, who adorned a beige button-up, black jeans, and a grin from ear to ear.

"Hey, man, why don't you just talk to her?" without really registering Glenn's words, Daryl was more focused on the sight of you in the corner of the dining area. Perched on a rusty metal seat, he couldn't shake the notion that you appeared so... out of place. Surrounded by those sporting worn clothes and sullen dispositions, you maintained a distinct luminescence that Daryl could only pine-

Shit. She's lookin' at me. An' I'm lookin' at her. An' what the fuck is Glenn saying?

"Uh- uhh, yeah," Daryl drawled. He turned sharply, and hoped it actually was a question to which he answered appropriately. The last thing he wanted was for everyone to think that the stoic hunter was crumbling under the gaze of a dead-girl-walking. It seemed, however, that he was too late.

"Look man, she obviously likes you and- and this world's too unpredictable not to tell her the truth about how you feel. I mean, look at what me and Maggie have." Daryl nodded. He somehow couldn't meet the other man's eyes. He agreed, though, that Glenn was right. In a world where love seemed like the most unattainable possibility, one look around this new residency revealed that love, however frivolous (and, dangerous), was blossoming all around. Glenn and Maggie, Judith, Tyreese and Karen, and ever-observant Daryl hadn't failed to notice the stolen glances between Rick and the newcomer Michonne. Maybe, despite the world outside the walls, Daryl could let himself love you. And let himself be loved by you.

With a pat on the shoulder and a nod goodbye, Daryl was left alone on the staircase with a grip on the rail a little looser than it was previously. At least, if he couldn't man up and straight up talk to you, he could find a way to show his love.

Show, don't tell, he decided.

ONE WEEK LATER Daryl stood in the prison yard, one leg swung over the seat of his bike, lost in the fond memory of a conversation you engaged him in the other day. He struggled even to remember what you spoke about. His thoughts were clouded with visions of you, the way your mouth looked when you smiled and talked at the same time, the way your eyes widened a little and your pupils expanded. Was that... just for him? Oh yes, that was it. He was going on a run and... you needed a new jacket, since you lost the old one during the transition from the farm to the prison, and now winter was approaching. Daryl was uncharacteristically nervous about whether you would like it, whether it would fit. Your sweet voice immediately snapped him out of his anxiety (which he had no idea how to handle) when you held up his gift and thanked him graciously.

"Hey, Daryl, I was... uhh- since you're visiting that old mall, I was just wondering if you could maybe pick up a jacket for me from a clothing store... or something? I lost mine and it's getting kinda cold... Don't bother if it's too much trouble!"

"Yeah, yeah, of course,"

You tried suppressing a little bit of shock after he agreed without a snarky remark, or without an irritated huff leaving his thin lips. As you stood rocking on your heels, you couldn't help but blush at the fact that his reaction was different for you than for everyone else.

Before Daryl could register the presence of a woman beside him and cease his musing for another day, he felt a brush of distinctly soft skin on the hand that rested on the seat of his bike. He turned to face whoever had just interrupted his romantic daze, preparing to brush them off as fast as he could, but- It was you. And were wearing that jacket. The one that he'd given to you. He almost melted at the sight and he had to compose himself before attempting to address you. He couldn't avoid, however, furrowing his brows and softening his eyes in the way you adored so.

"Uh, hey," he drawled, as his eyes wandered the lengths of your body and took in the sight of you, standing so close to him.

"Hey Daryl, I just... wanted to say thanks so much! I really appreciate you going out to get this for me," you said, softly and dreamily. You paused for a moment, averting your gaze down at your feet, contemplating how Daryl's eyes hadn't ceased studying your image since you approached him.

"I just wonder if there's anything I could do to return the favour?" Your wide eyes seemed to be speaking a different language, and Daryl could interpret only this;

I see the way you look at me,

I know you want me too,

Come inside.

"Nah, dun' worry 'bout it. Glad you like it."

"Alright, well, thanks anyway!" In that moment, you searched every cell of your body for the courage you needed to do what you were about to do. Rising up to your tiptoes, you swiftly but softly pecked a kiss on his cheek and began to quickly stride back to the prison entrance, before he had a chance to berate you.

"Hey, Y/N," he called out. You hummed in response, realising that you hadn't managed to make it as far as you wanted. A wave of guilt rushed through you, suddenly. It's not a big deal, it's just a kiss on the cheek, right?

"Rick said something about wanting us to talk later, you and me,"

"Rick did? Why later, why not now?"

Daryl was lost. He hadn't planned what to say next in this conversation. In truth, he just wanted you to stay, and if that meant succumbing to stuttering in front of you, then so be it.

"I, uhh- I dunno', I guess he thinks there's... things we oughta' discuss?"

One corner of your mouth tugged up when you realised just how utterly clueless Daryl really was. "Yeah, like what?" Let's see how he plays this one out, you thought.

"I dunno', unspoken stuff, I guess?" It was clear Daryl didn't know how to operate when attempting to vocalize his feelings. His glossy hair was falling over his eyes and framing his pretty face so perfectly, in a way that caught the last of the sunlight and lingered before it disappeared behind the trees.

You couldn't help yourself.

Approaching the archer, you removed your hands from the back pockets of your jeans and held eye contact for a moment. When his thin lips pressed together in what you recognised as a smile, you leaned in, pressing one hand to the side of his face and feeling the warmth of his flushed cheeks. Rising to your tiptoes once more, you closed the small distance between the two of you and waited for him to return the sweet kiss. It must have taken him a couple seconds to register what was happening because, when he did, you relaxed into the beautiful embrace of your tongues.

He tasted like pinewood, cinnamon, and stormy weather. It was delicious, and you couldn't get enough. When he allowed himself to place his hands on your hips, you felt the need for air rise up from the pit of your stomach to your throat. Placing your other hand on the back of Daryl's neck, you moved away slowly, not yet withdrawing from the closeness, and spoke,

"You can tell Rick that you're gonna come find me later."

#brandy writes #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl x you #twd fluff #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixion imagine #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl twd #daryl dixon x female reader #fem reader #daryl dixon twd

[fcsources]

Hello🫶 Can you help me with suggestions of redheaded females that have a decent amount of resources? No matter the age! Thank you in advance!

𝙝𝙞 𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙗𝙞𝙚! this is gonna be a looooooooong list, angel, but it's as comprehensive as i could make it! all of these fcs have at least 300 gifs that i could find, so please let me know if you need some help locating resources ♡ **indicates the resources are available as gif icons and not small/medium gifs!

Abigail Cowen ( 1998, actress, white )

Ahsen Eroglu ( 1994, actress, Turkish )

Alicia Von Rittberg ( 1993, actress, white )

Alina Kovalenko ( 1992, actress, white )

Amy Adams ( 1974, actress, white )

Angourie Rice ( 2001, actress, white )

Anya Taylor Joy ( 1996, actress, white )

Asena Keskinci ( 2001, actress, Turkish )

Bebe Wood ( 2001, actress, white )

Bree Kish** ( 1996, model, one quarter Black, plus size )

Bridget Regan ( 1982, actress, white )

Bridget Satterlee** ( 1997, model, white )

Bryce Dallas Howard ( 1981, actress, white )

Camryn Grimes ( 1990, actress, white )

Charlotte Spencer ( 1991, actress, white )

Christina Hendricks ( 1975, actress, white )

Deborah Ann Woll ( 1985, actress, white )

Elcin Sangu ( 1985, actress, Turkish )

Eleanor Tomlinson ( 1992, actress, white )

Elena Satine ( 1987, actress, Georgian )

Ellie Bamber ( 1997, actress, white )

Emily Carey ( 2003, actress, white )

Evan Rachel Wood ( 1987, actress, white )

Freya Mavor ( 1993, actress, white )

Genevieve Angelson ( 1987, actress, white )

Gozde Turkpence ( 1984, actress, Turkish )

Hannah Einbinder ( 1995, actress, white )

Haley Bennett ( 1988, actress, white )

Hayley Williams ( 1988, musician, white )

Holland Roden ( 1986, actress, white )

Holliday Grainger ( 1988, actress, white )

Huh Yunjin ( 2001, musician, Korean )

Isla Fisher ( 1976, actress, white )

Isolda Dychauk ( 1993, actress, white )

Jane Levy ( 1986, actress, white )

Jessica Barden ( 1992, actress, white )

Jessica Chastain ( 1977, actress, white )

Joey King ( 1999, actress, white/Jewish )

Karen Gillan ( 1987, actress, white )

Kate Walsh ( 1967, actress, white )

Katherine McNamara ( 1995, actress, white )

Kennedy McMann ( 1996, actress, white )

Kennedy Walsh ( 2000, influencer with acting roles, white )

Lee Seo Jeong ( 2000, musician, Korean )

Liv Hewson ( 1995, actor, white, non-binary )

Luca Hollestelle ( 1996, actress, white )

Ludovica Martino ( 1997, actress, white )

Maddison Brown** ( 1997, actress, white )

Madelaine Petsch ( 1994, actress, white )

Madeline Ford ( 1997, model, white )

Maggie Geha ( 1988, actress, white )

Marina Ruy Barbosa ( 1995, actress, Brazilian (white) )

Melis Sezen ( 1997, actress, Turkish )

Millie Bobby Brown ( 2004, actress, white )

Miriam Leone ( 1985, actress, white )

Natasha Lyonne ( 1979, actress, white/Jewish )

Nicola Coughlan ( 1987, actress, white, plus-size )

Nicole Kidman ( 1967, actress, white )

Olivia Cooke ( 1993, actress, white )

Rebecca Ferguson ( 1983, actress, white )

Riley Keough ( 1989, actress, white/Jewish )

Romola Garai ( 1982, actress, white )

Rose Leslie ( 1987, actress, white )

Ruth Connell ( 1979, actress, white )

Sabina Karlsson ( 1988, model, half Black, plus size )

Sadie Sink ( 2002, actress, white )

Sadie Soverall ( 2002, actress, white )

Sarah Drew ( 1980, actress, white )

Sarah Snook ( 1987, actress, white )

Shannon Purser ( 1997, actress, white, plus size )

Sophia Lillis ( 2002, actress, white )

Sophie Skelton ( 1994, actress, white )

Sophie Turner ( 1996, actress, white )

Stephanie Martini ( 1990, actress, white )

#rpt #fc help #redhead fc #ginger fc #female fc #underused fc #model fc #poc fc #bipoc fc #fc masterlist #redhead masterlist #answered: fc help #answered: anonymous #answered #long post for ts #long post cw #long post #five nights at freddi's: mascot post

[flash-the-readies]

Building a house in the sims 4 but every room is a different pink floyd album

I built this ages ago and it just now occurred to me that I could share this here. I was inspired by a lilsimsie video where she did the same thing except each room is a different Taylor Swift album.

So I built this shell of a house with 14 rooms (+ the exterior so 15 total albums) and then randomised an album for each room and decorated accordingly. Since I wasn't planning on actually playing in the house I didn't bother with landscaping lmao. Sorry for the awkwardly wide shots, I got lazy taking screenshots.

Anyways I suggest making it into a game by going through the photos first and trying to guess which album they are before reading. Let me know if you get them all and what references you catch

As a bonus I added the interior design styles I was vaguely inspired by

Here's the downstairs and upstairs floorplans

The exterior: I cannot make this up. I got the Wall, I was cackling

Style: I wanted English cottage but not in a thatched roof way.. in a Georgian way... and then I remembered I started complaining about Georgian cottages so I added more...shape and ended up with this... eh...

The Entryway: Ummagumma

Style: a bit transitional, she's homey, she's relaxed

I started off thinking I was going to make a relatively ordinary house

Downstairs hallway: Endless River

That basegame gradient wallpaper was actually perfect. This is the second room I did and slowly started dropping any pretenses that this was going to be an ordinary house

Downstairs Powder room: Momentary Lapse of Reason

Style: coastal but in an extra silly goofy way

THIS is where I finally decided to embrace the chaos. Unfortunately I didn't get a bedroom for this album but I actually like how it turned out.

The dining room: Wish You Were Here

Style: brutalism and minimalism

I'm actually obsessed with how this one (pls notice the grate behind the table)

The kitchen: Meddle

Style: Rustic, cottage

This was difficult...I was heavily relying on the colour scheme and references to the lyrics since the album cover looks like.. well... that...

The office: A Saucerful of Secrets

Style: 60s space age and Mid-Century modern

I was so thrilled to use that 60s space age chair

The living room: Obscured by Clouds

Style: traditional

I shared this with my dad and this room made him laugh.. I too was cackling while decorating it

laundry/utility/mudroom: Division Bell

Style: .......... fuck if I know

pls tell me you see the vision because this was a struggle

Upstairs hallway: More

Style: Spanish revival, Spanish colonial

uh... there wasn't much to do here but that's what I had in mind. Not pictured is a nice wooden chandelier above the stairs.

.......... I take it back. This was even more of a struggle

Bedroom 1: Animals

Style: Industrial

This is probably my second favourite room

Bedroom 2: Atom Heart Mother

Style: She's rustic, she's farmhouse

I HAD to use that topiary

Bedroom 3: Dark Side of the Moon

Style: If I had to choose one I would say contemporary even though it's not actually reflected in the room

Discover University actually came with a Dark Side inspired poster so I KNEW I would be using it

Bedroom 4: The Final Cut

pls tell me why the two kids' rooms ended up being colour-drenched in black..

(the bed is a military cot....)

Upstairs bathroom: Piper at the Gates of Dawn

style:... she's ...... eclectic

Saved best for last. The Sims has a gnome obsession and I FINALLY got to use them all

#So more about me I guess... I love playing the Sims... both building and gameplay #I also REALLY like interior decor and would consider redoing the album and design style associations #^^ especially since this one was heavily based on the visuals of the album covers and just whatever I thought was hilarious #My regular builds are better than this I promise ;-; #this was minimally decorated and also a joke build #pink floyd #meme energy #sims 4 #irving rambles #photo post #had the albums out beside me while I was decorating

[cryptotheism]

you mentioned mujadara and tabouli earlier and my little arabic heart is just. so happy. mujadara (my family grinds it through those hand mills before adding rice) is a childhood dish and the top reason i'm sad i lost my ability to eat lentils. team "you always drink the tabouli sauce" here (add pomegranate molasses if you can !)

delighted to meet middle eastern dishes in the wild, our cooking is so much wider than mezze but the home dishes are mostly unknown. if you don't know them, may i suggest molokhieh (leaf and chicken soup over rice, kinda goopy but the vinegar sauce ties it all) and adass bhamoud (swiss chard and lentil soup with LEMON !!! lots of lemon juice. and summac. add more potatoes always)

i realised while typing this, i do not know where you are from (and no need to say) so idk what you grew up eating, but just. immensely nostalgic and soft rn even though i literally ate rez a djej for dinner (rice cooked in spiced chicken broth with roasted nuts). thank you, this made my night. i will for sure check out the Georgian dishes. take care CT !!

Yeah! It can be hard to find really good middle eastern food in California! My roommate @roseandblossom is the one who originally introduced mujadara to me! They're an amazing cook, especially when it comes to sephardic food!

[boygiwrites]

Harley D. Dixon 28

Harley D. Dixon's Pinterest Board!

Harley D. Dixon's Playlist!

📖Chapter List.

Author's Note.

I was lying last time. That wasn't a biggun. THIS is a biggun.

'Be careful, Dad.'

'I will, baby.'

I realize the others. 'Oh. And you too, I guess.'

'Real funny,' T-Dog signs, unimpressed.

The strongest of our group spare us no last glances as they turn away, with only five bullets and a handful of bolts between them. I sit next to Lori on the small bench, watching their backs retreat. The Thanton Memorial hospital. There it is, tall and beige like a school, but really more of a Hellbox filled with nasty surprises behind each one of the hundreds of little black windows. Glad it ain't me.

God. Nine miles. Two days. Sharpsburg, East of nowhere. We really made it. I guess I knew we would.

'You know this place.'

Herschel's already looking at me when I turn to him, his moustache curled around a smile.

'Just a feeling,' He adds.

'You're a mind reader,' I decide, regarding him with suspicion.

Herschel Greene; a wizard disguised as a Georgian farmer. I knew there was something up with him.

He doesn't respond, because I guess he don't want his cover blown. That or... Well, he's waiting for an answer.

'My Momma lived in this town.' Is all I supply him with after a time, because it ends the same way most stories do.

'I'm sorry.'

I shrug. It ain't anybody's fault. 'I don't know why I didn't tell nobody.'

'This town means something to you. We don't always share things like that.'

I guess. 'What about your Momma?'

'My Mother died when I was fairly young.' He admits easily, like somebody at peace. 'One day, my brother and I noticed she'd gone out into the rain to water the plants, and things were never quite the same for a long time after that.'

Oh. I've heard of that. People getting old, forgetting where their bedroom is, who their kids are.

It's hard to imagine Herschel as just a boy with a Momma.

Some days, it's even hard to imagine myself as just a girl, even though that's what I still am.

I offer him a lame smile.

'Let's talk about something a little happier,' He suggests, while over his shoulder, a flashlight glares across the inside of one of the second storey windows. 'I'm starting to think it's the end of December. That would mean it's Christmas soon.'

The light disappears.

I ignore it.

If only them pharmacies we checked this morning had anything in them besides rat shit and dust.

'Jesus' birthday party,' I muse.

That gets him to laugh. I think he's tryna distract me. 'Yes. It could even be tomorrow.'

'Really? How do you know?'

'Well, I suppose I don't. Do you like Christmas?'

Everybody likes Christmas. That is, at least, everybody likes presents.

'Yeah. My Meemaw had a really pretty tree.'

'The minute it turned December first, Maggie and Beth would always force everyone to put up ours.'

'Do they believe in Santa Claus?'

'Not anymore, I'm afraid.'

'And you?'

His eyes glint mischievously. 'Of course I do.'

I consider it. 'I don't think I do. I don't believe in the Easter Bunny, neither.'

Or God, but that's a different story.

'They didn't ever come to your house?'

'They came a few times, but I think they forgot about us. My friend Dylan said they're made up. The Christmas after that, I stayed up late to spy on Santa, but I just saw Merle and Dad carrying presents in from the truck. I never told them.'

'I guess Santa was too busy that night.'

'If he is real, I hope he's okay. The Easter bunny has lots of chocolate to eat, but... Santa might be hungry.'

I wonder if the walkers have made it to the North Pole yet. Knowing those assholes, they definitely have.

'You forget; — Santa has magic.'

'That's how he makes the sleigh fly, right?'

'Right. And all those cookies and all that milk... Well. He's got more than enough to last a lifetime.'

'So, you think he's okay?'

'I'm sure of it.'

'I would like some cookies and milk, too.'

The old man only laughs again, giving my knee a gentle pat as Carl leans forward, his mouth moving around some words.

When the boy gestures to me, Herschel translates.

'He asked me what we were talking about. He wants to tell you it's okay; Santa forgot about him too, one year.'

Carl sends me a thumbs up, trusting that the message got across well enough.

It did. I feel my smile widen.

It's wiped away when Lori suddenly lurches forward between us. Her chest wracks, wracks, wracks, a soft wad of phlegm flying past her lips and landing at her feet. My hand goes to her shoulder, squeezing reassuringly, as if that's gonna do anything useful. Her lungs, they must be clogged up like sponges filled with yoghurt, all that sickness and junk coming back up the way it went in.

Herschel's on his feet, bringing his thin hand down on her back, knocking the phlegm out of her.

I glance over my shoulder.

Lights; more of them, swooping over the glass, appearing and disappearing and reappearing.

A gunshot lighting up a window.

Please be okay, I think. Lori won't make it like this.

Facing forward again, Lori's got her hand splayed over the base of her throat, coughing dryly. She takes the water bottle Carol is offering to her, and gulp, gulp, gulps down the last of what's inside, deflating when she's done, cradling her big belly.

Are you okay, I ask aloud as I loosen my grip on her, hoping it sounds how it's supposed to sound.

She smiles at me in the slightest of ways, putting her hand over mine before I can pull it away.

She nods, I'm okay, honey.

I nod back, because that's good. I don't believe her for a second, but that's good.

'There was a gunshot,' Beths signs to me, then.

'I know. I saw.'

She continues signing even as she turns to Herschel, a habit by now. 'That was loud.'

'Don't worry. Anything that heard it will be too slow to make their way over here.'

'I hope so.'

We sit without talking after that, watching the windows of the hospital light up with gunshots every now and then, as if it were a football game on TV. I count them, the flashes. The one I saw while Lori was coughing, that's one. That one there, that's two.

Rick used to talk about the day he woke up in the Grady Memorial Hospital sometimes. Right now, the only parts of the story I can remember are the ones where he'd hesitate to continue, staring at something in the fire the rest of us couldn't see, before he muttered about the way there wasn't one wall in the entire building that wasn't dirtied with blood, not even in the children's ward.

Hospitals just ain't what they used to be, is what I learned from him.

There's definitely more than just rat shit and dust in there.

I glance at Beth, asking her, 'Any noise?'

Her lips crumple into a thin line as she answers, 'Nothing.'

Just when I swear Herschel is about to bow his head and start praying, the front doors swing open.

Mouse perks up, his tail ramrod straight.

That's Dad, T-Dog, and Maggie walking out.

Where's Rick and Glenn?

The three of them are panting, dishevelled, but nobody hurt. Nobody bit. That's always the first thing I look for.

Thing is, though, they're all looking at me like I've won a shitty prize and I just don't know it yet.

What now?, I almost feel like saying, but don't.

The further in we walk, the darker it gets.

Does anybody really like the dark?

The flashlights carve out pockets in the walls and floors around us as we make our way down corridor after corridor. My heart skips a beat each time we pass the body of a patient or a nurse or a person in regular clothing, all with a bolt or a bullet buried somewhere inside them. We sidestep their limp arms in turn, their puddles of blood. I ain't ever been in a horror house before, but I imagine this is worse. I imagine it'd prolly feel a whole lot less like you're being walked to the gallows for execution, and that the blood would be fake.

If I had my locket, it would be clutched between my fingers right now, but the soft spot beneath my throat is completely bare. When I woke up this morning to my empty palm, I knew right away what'd happened. I didn't bother to ask what he did with it.

Passing another body with a bolt skewered through its face, my Dad reaches for it, pulling it out.

Clicking it back onto his bow, he notices me watching him.

'Keep going, baby.' He signs to me, black blood smeared down the side of his neck. 'Not far, now.'

T-Dog comes to a stop in the middle of the corridor a minute later, his flashlight revealing Glenn and Rick standing together just up ahead. Not hurt. Not bit. They look up from what they've been doing, which looks like taking turns kicking the wall.

T-Dog lowers the flashlight to their feet.

There it is.

The Harley-sized hole in the wall.

Now that I'm looking it, I can see what they meant. Nobody else is fitting through that thing, not even Carl.

Still no use, is the sentiment written all over Rick's face.

It looks like they've tried their best to widen the gap, but it's made out of solid brick and we're fresh outta jackhammers.

Will she fit? 

Yeah, I think so, Is the gist of what I can tell they're saying to each other.

We got this piece off here, but it the rest isn't budging. We don't have any bullets left to shoot it.

Maybe... we can do what I said before? Find another pharmacy?

Sure. When you find one within twenty miles of here, you let me know.

You're right. That was dumb. Sorry.

There are no other options. The medicine Lori needs is in that room, and it's like I said. She won't make it, otherwise.

'Listen. There are keys on the desk.' Dad explains to me, his stern expression contoured harshly by the flashlights surrounding us. He takes my wrist, guiding me to crouch with him at the base of the wall, pointing through the cracked bricks. I strain to make out the desk with the keys at the back of the room on the other side, before I meet his gaze again. 'Do you see them?'

'Yeah. I saw them.'

The desk ain't the only thing in there.

'We need you to grab them and unlock the door for us.'

We both know I also saw the walker standing idly in the corner, head bowed to the floor, waiting.

'We'll be able to kill it when the door is open.' He adds when I don't respond, as if he needed permission. 'I can't from here.'

'My heart is beating fast.'

He nods. 'That's a good thing. And this meathead is dumb. Are you dumb?'

I puff my chest out, shaking my head.

'That's right. You don't need to hear them when you're smarter than them. You're always smarter than them. Okay?'

'Okay.'

That's what he's told me ever since I went totally deaf. I don't need to hear them when I'm smarter than them. It's not as if we've had the opportunity to test the theory out, since there's so little walkers that I ain't had to kill one yet, but I trust him.

Twisting around, he gestures for Glenn's flashlight and catches it easily, giving it a few test clicks.

He hands it to me. 'Remember what I taught you?'

I give a nod, feeling the weight of Merle's knife sitting in the sheath on my thigh.

'Good. And be careful of the glass on the floor, okay?'

'Okay. I got this.'

I can do this. I gotta, for Lori and the baby. It'll make for a funny story one day, anyway. I can do it.

'You got this.' He agrees. 'It's gonna smell you, but you're not gonna panic. Easy stuff.'

'Easy stuff. Okay.'

'Okay?'

'Okay.'

With one last look at the group, I take a deep breath and grab onto one of the exposed bricks, contorting myself until my head and one of my arms is through the gap. I pause for a moment, trying not to breathe too much as I watch the walker follow invisible patterns along the floor with its eyes. Once its head is tilted away from me, I brace my hand on the floor, pushing myself through.

Oh, God. What was it I just said? I can do this?

The flashlight blinks on and off as I land on the other side, grabbing it, giving it a shake.

The desk is illuminated in a circle of light, centre stage.

The dead body twitches in the shadows. I slowly get to my feet, silently warning it to stay right where it is if it knows what's good for it. I'm smart. I can read and write now, and my Dad taught me how to stab the thigh first, so the walker will collapse and make it easier for me to reach whatever cavity I can stick my knife in. If this thing gets too close to me, it's gonna get the Dixon treatment.

Uh huh. That's right, I scold it, chin held up. The Dixon treatment. Ain't nobody want that!

The pieces of glass on the floor glint in the light as I tip toe my way through them, stepping up to the desk.

Dad said the keys are here. I saw them. They should be right here amongst these dusty papers — Ugh, God, don't sneeze. Don't. — or maybe even on this folder? What about the shelves above the desk? How could they just disappear?

When I turn the light on the walker, it's looking at me, eyeballs wet, reflecting the light.

It's smelt me.

That's okay. I'm okay. We knew it would.

It starts its slow shuffle towards me as I turn my attention back on the desk, casting about it twice as quickly now, batting the alarm clock, the pen pots, the stethoscope, everything out of my way and following all the pencils and random office supplies down to the floor. Kneeling, I look around, making sure the keys haven't gone down with them or fallen between the desk and the cabinets.

A glint of metal.

I gasp. They have!

I must've accidently knocked them off while I was choking back all that dust in my face.

I stick my hand into the slim gap, but — Ugh. — I can't get it any farther than my knuckles!

I'll have to make it wider.

Abandoning the flashlight, I grab the side of the desk, using all my strength to shove it even just one inch to the side.

Shit, it's heavy. They got bowling balls in here, or what?

The wheelie chair bumps into my ankle. I act on instinct, my hands shooting out, bracing against it. I look up. The walker's slouched over it, reaching for me. My elbows, they buckle. Shit. The seat slams into my shoulder — Ouch! — but you know what. This'll do. This works. I just need these stupid keys. I ignore the walker and its stench of old meat, focused on nothing but the keys.

I'm not gonna panic. It's what I used to do, but I've learnt since then. I'm better!

A couple shoves, and the gap is just wide enough, wide as it's ever gonna be.

Easy stuff. Easy stuff.

The seat suddenly gives way. The body rolls, cracking its cheekbone on the floor. Don't matter. I got the keys. I'm back on my feet and running to the door, feeling out a random key and shoving it in the lock, twisting it. It's the right one. The door opens.

Maggie pulls me out by the arm. It's if there's a fire blazing behind me and I'm about to go up in flames.

That's it. I'm out!

I fall into her stomach, protectively held there.

Thank whoever's still up there. Or maybe, just thank me.

Rick and Dad push past my shoulders, marching into the room and unsheathing their blades, powerfully driving them both into the walker's skull. Blood splatters as they yank them out, droplets landing across the glass cap of the flashlight on the floor. It tints the light and everything it's cast onto a bright red, flickering. Dad picks it up, wipes it on his thigh, and hands it back to Glenn.

Grinning proudly to myself, I hold up the keys up like a trophy head for everyone to see.

Maggie releases me, smiling breathlessly down at me in relief.

'Well done,' T-Dog exclaims with his hands, sharing a high five with me.

Kneeling in front of me, Dad cups my face in his hands. He don't give a damn about the keys. Are you okay?

'I'm okay. The keys were down the side of the desk. I couldn't reach them. I had to—,' Shoving at the air, I enthusiastically mime the struggle, making Maggie chuckle behind her hand. 'The walker was trying to get me through the chair.'

He smiles, wagging his thumbs across my cheeks before lowering his hands. 'I told you. Meatheads. But not you.'

'Not all the time, anyway.'

'You should've come back out when you couldn't find the keys.'

'Sorry.'

'It's alright. There won't be a next time. You did good.'

Then, taking the keys from me, he stands back up and returns to Rick's side in the dark room.

I stay right beside Maggie and Glenn as they make quick work of the storage room door, pushing it open. Their torches illuminate the shelves on either side of them, which to everyone's relief, are completely untouched, lined with all kinds of medicine. It wasn't all for nothing. Without bothering to read many of the labels, they swoop their arms through the masses of bottles, catching everything in their open backpacks and zippering them back up, before nodding to each other and stepping back outta the small room.

Let's go, Rick says as he shoos us forward. We're all eager to get the Hell outta this place.

Stepping through Thanton Memorial's broken glass doors, daylight breaks across my face.

The fresh, cold air floods into my dusty lungs.

When Carl spots me, it's like the bench burns his ass. He's calling my name as he comes running at me, crushing me in a hug that almost sends us both toppling over into the snow. A giggle is squeezed from me as I hug him back, feeling my bones creak under the pressure. Wow. For somebody who ain't eaten anything other than a bit of rabbit for the past two days, he sure is strong.

Pulling away, he holds both my shoulders as he worriedly exclaims something to me.

You're the coolest, bravest person ever, I'm gonna assume is what he's saying, I don't know how you did it!

He pulls me in for another, quicker hug.

When Herschel appears over his shoulder, I get the real story. 'He's telling you we were all very worried.'

Oh. Is that right?

Ow!, The boy scoffs as I land a punch to his shoulder, forcing him offa me.

'Tell him he's talking to Harley Dixon,' I say.

As the sentiment is passed on, Carl rolls his eyes at me, making a retort.

'He wants to remind you of the time he hugged you after you cried from a nightmare.'

Ow!, He complains again when I punch him.

As he rubs sorely at his shoulder, he can't help but giggle along with me.

'Come on,' Herschel interrupts us, herding the two of us back toward the group. 'Very well done, sweetie.'

'I was only a little scared.'

'Of course. This is Harley Dixon I'm speaking to, isn't it?'

Too right. 'Yes, it is!'

Stepping up to the crowd, we gather around the bench as Rick takes a seat next to his wife, uncapping the bottle of water in his lap. Her face looks awful pale-like, paler than the snow packed under our boots. Still, despite the effort it must take, she manages a smile. Her hands shake as she takes the water, watching Rick tap a small bottle of pills against her open palm until two tumble out. 

Being trapped in that room was one of the scariest things I've done. I can say that, now. But as she tips her head back and swallows the pills down with a gulp of water, I'm hit with the feeling that I would do it all over again if I had to.

She sighs, body swaying. We can only hope that it works.

As Rick soothes circles onto her lower back, his gaze accidently meets mine.

'Thank you', He signs, looking like he means every bit of it.

His blue eyes start to water just like they did last night, except there ain't no fire I can blame it on this time.

I only give him a single, shy nod, grabbing onto my Dad's hand. He don't need to thank me. I love Lori, too.

Then to everyone else, he says it again; Thank you.

Carl's hugging me again.

I don't bother punching him this time. I don't wanna do it, anyway.

Being back in Sharpsburg is different to what I thought it would be.

Aside from the old blood smeared across the roads, the way everything seems to have gone through a nightmare and fell back asleep shortly afterward, Sharpsburg is the one place we been that has not bothered to rot away quite yet. There ain't no bombing craters where parks or stores used to stand, no toppled police barricades, army trucks, no bruises from the week everything ended.

Petey's general store is still exactly where it always was, right next door to the news agency, the record store, the locksmith. I don't keep my head down like I planned to. I don't pretend I never knew this place, or the people in it, because I did. I hold my chin up to the light of the setting sun as we walk through the forgotten town, unafraid of the memories I can see behind each and every door.

You know this place. I did. I do. For a long while, it was pretty much the only thing I knew.

Each weekend, I would jump out of Dad's truck the second he pulled up on the handbrake, door slamming as I ran into my Mama's open arms. It would be late afternoon, sometimes twilight. There was no school the next day, no quizzes or beatings to worry about. Not on the good days, not when I was cruising down the sidewalk on my bike with a dollar note in my hand, on my way to Petey's. He would always insist on letting me pick an ice cream out for free, but it never worked. Have-it-her-way-Harley, he always called me, the nickname a hearty chuckle in his mouth. The wind was in my hair on the way home, because I had one back then, dollar note replaced with a fruity-flavored glob of ice cream frozen to a stick. Sugar melting onto my fingers, washed away in the play pool after dark.

I used to do things like that. We all did, I suppose.

As we pass by an empty parking lot, I notice the rainbow streamers of a lonely, fallen bike blowing around in the wind like a white flag. I wanna ride a bike again. Just for a minute. Maybe two, I think, as I hold my gaze on it for as long as I can.

Eventually, we make it to a park. Of course, I recognise this place as well, and so does my Dad.

That's why I can feel him staring at the back of my head.

I never stopped to think about how he knows Sharpsburg, too. He was right there with me on the porch of Petey's store, most the time, smoking cigarettes in the sun with melted ice cream drying out on his collarbones. He remembers it, too.

We used to come to this park all the time; me, Momma, and Dad, on the rare days they got along.

I got to pretend I was a different kid looking in on the three of us and thinking, What a nice family. I wish I was her.

Now, the monkey bars look more like the giant ribcage of an old beast rather than something I'd wanna play on.

A shrivelled walker, curled over the seat of one of the swings, lets the wind brush its fingers along the ground.

Everyone has a Before.

Even that walker.

Even if our Befores were all very different, at least our Afters are all the same. We're all here, sick, hungry, tired.

The park's trees and fences fall away after a while of more walking, making way for a suburban street.

Coming to a stop in the middle of the road, the ache in my feet worsens to a pang, pang, panging.

'Everything alright?' Glenn's asking me as a wave of tiredness suddenly washes over me.

'My feet hurt.' I answer. 'And don't say sorry.'

'I think we're going to stop soon. Don't worry.'

Rick considers the houses lined up in front of us, hands on his hips, as Dad walks up to us. 'What's wrong?'

'Her feet hurt. And are you tired?'

I could fall asleep right here in the snow. 'A little.'

Even when I was lost in the woods outside Herschel's farm, I still don't think I ever walked this much and for this long.

Giving me a regretful look, Dad offers, 'Do you need me to carry you?'

'I'm a big girl,' I tell him, yawning.

'I know. I asked you a question.'

They wait on my answer. I think about fighting it a minute longer, but I just don't have it in me. I'm reaching up for my Dad before I even realize it's what I'm doing, letting him lift me onto his chest as I wrap my arms and legs around him.

I could've definitely handled it. Yeah. It's just that, maybe it's okay if I don't for a while.

I can already feel my eyes drooping shut. I'm gonna fall asleep right here.

It's suddenly a lot easier to feel like just a girl, now.

My chin hooked over his shoulder, I watch through my heavy lids as Rick does a double take on something laying on the ground, turning to pick up what looks like a fallen street sign. The moonlight swells over the clouds, spilling onto the metal.

Brushing the frost off, he reveals the words, Bolton Drive.

Bolton Drive. To me, this was always just Dylan's street.

If we turn left here, there's some bigger houses down the way. I think it's prolly what my Dad's telling the group right now.

We're on the move again right after that, heading further into the suburbs. I'm saved from walking, instead snuggling into my Dad. It's almost impossible to shield my face from the oncoming winds as I peek out over his shoulder, the moon a silver ball in the sky behind us. I bet it's just about the only place left without any walkers, including the North Pole. If I were a bird, maybe I would forget all about Earth and just fly up there. I could look back down on it all like from a faraway window, watching as it slowly spins.

At a harsh gust of wind, I close my eyes, and the moon and all the stars vanish.

Sleep sweeps me up quickly. My mind floods with murky colors, then black, swirling like a shower drain.

When I open my eyes next, we're approaching a house I don't recognise.

'Shhhh,' Dad's soothing me, looking about as exhausted as I feel. 'It's alright. I'm putting you down.'

My feet slowly setting on the ground, Maggie takes my hand before I get the chance to feel the loss of Dad's warmth. We wait shivering at each other's side as the men clear out the house. Rick eventually sticks his head back out, waving us inside.

Climbing the porch, we huddle into the narrow corridor and spread out into the nearest room, the lounge room. Dad's already got a fire going for us as we make ourselves at home on the sofas, the hot breath of the flames quickly starting to melt the frost stuck to my coat. I hug myself, breathing deeply and slowly to try fight off the urge to fall right back asleep. As I notice Carl approaching, I scoot over to make room for him and his Momma, who settles her weight down on the sofa with the help of Maggie and Glenn.

I feel a little bad for being carried, even if I needed it. Lori made it all the way here on foot, deep into a sickness and carrying a baby inside of her. A lotta people might think a lady like her is weak, but they'd be wrong. There's many ways to be strong.

My Dad stands from where he was knelt by the fireplace, peeling off his beanie and sitting beside me.

As I look around the room, all I see are tired faces.

Mouse plops himself between my feet, the poor guy's fur ice-cold beneath my hands as I give him some pats.

We'll be warm soon, buddy, I think.

Everyone's attention is stolen when Rick steps up to the front of the room, fiddling with his beanie in his hands.

He gulps on nothing, nodding to himself. 

'I know we're all very tired,' Herschel translates for me as the words come, even though his arms must feel like they weigh a thousand pounds. 'Been tired for months. But let's just make the most of this and try to relax tonight. We've got a fire. We've got walls. Medicine. It's a Hell of a lot better than those garages back in Newnan. T and I will melt some snow for us to drink, and we got some food we just found in the kitchen. We'll take turns for watch through the night, but there's not much out there. You saw.'

Carol hesitates to raise her hand, shaking her head as she asks a question.

We turn back to Rick. 'I don't know. I don't like staying in one place long, but I'm thinking there's only a few more weeks left until Spring. It's not impossible to think we can tough it out here. There's not many other options right now.'

It looks like we're staying in Sharpsburg for a few more weeks, then. At least until the cold dies down.

There are worse places to end up.

'Try to warm up in the meantime.'

Leaving us to stew in thought, Rick and T-Dog pull their coats on tighter and disappear through the archway.

'You know something?' Beth asks after a minute or two, the only light in the room coming from the fire. It lends her face a pretty, dim glow as she glances at her Dad sitting next to her.  'Daddy thinks it's gonna be Christmas tomorrow.'

Oh, that's right. I'd almost forgotten.

Glenn sends him a, No shit?, sort of look.

'I just figured it would be about that time.' He explains, making Maggie light up. 'I have a sixth sense for it.'

My Dad scoffs, shrugging. 'Well, I don't have a calendar. Why not.'

Wait? Really?

'So, it's Christmas tomorrow?', I ask him, as if we ain't just making all this shit up.

Something so simple, the prospect of waking up on Christmas morning tomorrow even if it ain't in no official way, even if we ain't even got a tree, let alone a star to put on top of it, sparks excitement throughout the room. Yes, it's Christmas tomorrow. From the smiles breaking out on everyone's faces, Maggie giddily gripping onto Glenn to give him a shake, I can tell it's Christmas tomorrow.

Feeling just a little bit more awake than I did a moment ago, I exclaim again, 'It's Christmas tomorrow!'

My Dad seems to find this very amusing, smirking side-long at me.

There ain't much to say in the way of how our Christmases used to go, especially the ones after my second birthday, but I still remember seeing the church all lit up with decorations at night whenever we happened to drive past it. I always liked that.

Carl must exclaim the same thing I did with almost twice the energy, because Lori and Rick laugh.

'I can't believe,' Maggie gushes, 'I forgot about Christmas!'

'It's not your fault,' Glenn jokes, petting her shoulder. 'We've been busy trying not to die.'

'Good point.'

'I'm sure the Lord will forgive you,' Beth says.

'Yeah. He started all this shit, anyway.'

Maggie waves her hand around. 'Hey. A little respect for the Atheists in the room?'

When everyone turns to look at me and Dad, a round of laughter breaks out.

'We're only in it for the presents,' He agrees.

I nod. It's true.

'Me, too,' Glenn says.

'I just wish I we had some,' Beth pouts.

'We're alive,' Herschel argues, looking around at each person in the room. 'There's no present better than that.'

Aww. That cheesy line earns him a funny look from Maggie, who pulls him into a deathly-tight hug.

'I think there actually might be something better.'

Glenn sticks a finger up, standing and disappearing into the kitchen.

When he returns, he's cradling a bunch of shiny wrappers in his arms, dumping them all onto the coffee table. Snack packs. Crackers and cheese, salami and cookies, bread sticks, peanut butter. Those really are snack packs! What a lucky find!

Nobody hesitates. We all grab one, ripping the seals off and huffing the tasty smell that comes out.

'You just found these in there?,' Asks Beth.

'Yeah,' He answers, flopping back onto the sofa. 'They were in the pantry. There's cans, too.'

'I'm in love with whoever lived here.'

Mouse is staring at me as I pick up a piece of salami, so I toss it into his mouth.

I save the next one for myself, groaning at the nostalgic taste of school lunches.

'Better?' Glenn signs to me like a smartass, knowing damn well this is the best thing I ever tasted.

I stick my food-covered tongue out at him.

Blehhh!

Unexpectedly, he does the same thing back. Eugh. Gross!

When Carl notices what we're doing, he sticks his tongue out, too. Even grosser!

'Come on. Enough,' Dad tries to warn me, buts he regrets it a second later when a wet glob of salami lands in his lap.

This is what Rick and T-Dog walk in on as they come through the archway, holding cookware filled with chunks of snow and ice in front of them. My Dad's smacking the salami onto the floor as if it were fresh dog shit, Carl and I trying not to choke on our food, laughing at him. Mouse spinning in circles like a lunatic, spurred on by the chaos, making Carol laugh like she means it. Not that puny, polite little chuckle she does sometimes; a full belly laugh, holding onto Maggie for support. They was only gone a few minutes.

Rick smirks as he shakes his head, deadpanning something to the effect of, I see you found the food.

They set the cookware in front of the fire and join us on the sofas. 

'Why's everyone so happy?', Rick asks as he sits on the ottoman, confused, delighted, because there has to be a reason.

'It's Christmas tomorrow,' I gladly tell him.

'Oh, really?'

T-Dog asks the others, 'Wait, what? How do you know?'

'We don't.' Herschel admits, throwing Mouse a cube of cheese. 'But we deserve a Christmas, don't we?'

Yeah, I see the word slip from Rick's mouth.

'We deserve some eggnog, too,' T-Dog adds, making himself laugh just like he always does.

'Tell me about it.'

'Cover your ears, kids,' Carol tells us, even though she's laughing, too.

I hear that right? As the deaf one outta the two of us, I jokingly gesture to my ears. I can't hear shit, anyway!

As everyone laughs all over again, my Dad reaches out to try and cover my eyes, but I bat him offa me. Nice try.

'You got the card, now, kid.' T-Dog tells me, like it's some secret club I've joined.

'I got the what?'

'The card. I got mine, too. 'Oh, yeah? Is it because I'm black'?'

Carol smacks him. 'Whatever.'

'Next time your Dad gives you in trouble, you can pull the, 'Oh, yeah? Is it because I'm deaf?'

That's silly!

'Don't give her ideas.'

'Too late,' I grin devilishly. 'I got the card, now, Dad.'

He rolls his eyes, trying his best not to laugh, too.

'You can't do that, Harley.' T-Dog mimes. 'Oh, yeah? Is it because I'm deaf?'

'What did I just say?'

Sorry, man, T-Dog chuckles, biting on a tiny bread stick.

What's eggnog, Carl asks his parents curiously, reminding us why we're talking about 'cards' in the first place.

Eggnog is a milky-lookin' drink that got booze in it, which is why Rick and Lori brush off the question. I tried it once, during a party at my Meemaw's, after one of my Uncles shrugged and said, Fuck it. Tasted like garbage sprinkled with cinnamon.

'Let's just stick with what we have,' Herschel suggests. 'There must be some other traditions we can do?'

'Our family used to share a favorite moment from that year,' Beth says. 'Maybe we can do that?'

'That's a great idea, Beth.'

'I got one.' Glenn raises his hand. 'Finding that car in Atlanta.'

'Oh, that was good.'

'Sad we had to leave it.' He agrees. 'I also liked the time I fell into a dumpster after we left the CDC.'

'What?,' Maggie scrunches her nose at him.

'Looking back at it, it was pretty funny.'

God dang, I remember that day. I was sitting off to the side with Sophia, watching the scene unfold together.

'Morales had to grab your ass to pull you out,' I tease him.

Rick tries to hide the fact that he's chuckling, as Maggie asks him what he was doing in a dumpster.

'We'd lost everything. We were searching for supplies, but I saw some yellow boots and I wanted them for Harley.'

Everyone croons, Awwww.

'I remember those boots, actually.' Beths recalls. 'What happened to them?'

'I fed them to the cows,' I shrug, so I don't gotta bring up the farm, where I left them in our tent the night it all burned down.

'Hey. I risked my life for those boots.'

Rick corrects him, 'I think you risked your ass, is what she just said.'

'It's what I said.'

'I got one.' My Dad says, dipping a cracker in some peanut butter. 'The day we put Glenn in the well.'

'Remember how he squealed?,' T-Dog giggles.

'No,' Glenn tries to convince us, doing a very bad job of it. 'I don't remember that. Never happened.'

'That walker was next-level gross.'

Next in the line to share, I decide, 'My favorite moment is when I found Mouse.'

'He loves you, doesn't he?,' Maggie smiles.

I throw him another piece of salami, hoping that the answer would be yes.

Carl tells everyone his favorite moment from this year was sneaking off into the woods with me, but his parents both give him a look, so he wisens up and changes his answer to something a little less totally forbidden; going to shooting practice.

When it's Lori's turn, she mentions a time she pushed Carl on the Greene's swing.

Rick's favorite moment is beating Herschel at checkers, something that the old man lets him get away with sharing.

'Gotta be seeing Daryl wake up after surgery,' T-Dog says after that, startling me with how suddenly sentimental it is.

The firelight flickers back and forth on the rug for a few moments.

My Dad subtly replies, Thanks, man.

'I was gonna say that, too,' I say to be funny.

'Yeah,' Glenn backs me up. 'You totally were. In fact, I change my answer, too. Favorite moment; Meeting Maggie.'

The woman pouts up at him, grabbing his hand, threading their fingers together.

'I change mine, too.' Dad says. 'The moment I found out Harley wasn't bitten.'

'That's mine, too.'

'Me, too,' Just about half the group nod, agreeing.

Then, everyone's coming up with different answers, talking over the top of each other. Bringing Harley back safe from the gas station, is T's second answer, but he also has a third and fourth and a fifth, because he just can't pick one. Making it outta the CDC alive. Finding the farm. Saving Glenn after he gave blood. Herschel's favorite moment is all the moments he's kept his daughters safe, an answer that earns him a big hug from both Maggie and Beth this time, because, I don't know what I'd do without my girls.

Rick and Glenn finding Daddy safe, Beth says, and then Maggie; That's mine, too.

I find myself with a hundred new answers, too. The moment Jacqui and I kicked up all them butterflies outta the grass as we ran to the house, after she told me my Daddy was alive. The morning Maggie made us scrambled eggs and tea for breakfast. All them times I shared a peach with someone while we sat in the sun. Lori making that joke about Maggie and Glenn being in love, and how I gagged at it back then. I can't forget about the time Carl hugged me as I cried, as Dad cut my hair, as I petted a cow's nose or fed a chicken.

All the little things and the big things, but also all the sad things. In a way, I'm grateful for them, too.

If Jacqui was here, or Sophia, or Momma or Meemaw, or my cousins, who could be anywhere by now, dead or alive, or Morales or Eliza or Louis or Miranda, who I ain't sure if I'll ever see again, or even our dog Tank, I like to think they'd be grateful for me, too.

'I told you, didn't I?,' Herschel smiles. 'No better present.'

After that — After Glenn starts to tear up and we all tease him for it — We decide to wrap it up for the night.

'I love you guys,' He blubbers, like we didn't already know, like we haven't almost died for each other a hundred times over.

Okay, buddy, Dad's saying, reaching to pat his shoulder.

'I think it's time to turn in.'

Beth covers her mouth as she yawns. 'Yeah. I'm so tired.'

'Tell me if anybody sees Santa Claus,' T-Dog says non-committedly.

'I'm going to grab the blankets and pillows from upstairs.' Rick announces, standing up. 'Who's on first watch? Me?'

I'll do it, My Dad offers, letting Maggie comfort Glenn, but he's turned down.

He was frostbitten from head to toe only yesterday. I wouldn't let him out there, neither.

I can do it, T-Dog decides, and that's that. 'Maybe it'll be me that sees him.'

No fair, Carl whines.

Rick leaves and brings back down a whole bunch of bedding that he plops on the floor, giving everyone free reign to pick out what they want as T makes himself scarce. I pull out a small pillow and what must be a toddler's blanket, letting Dad help me get settled on the sofa. I lay with my head against one arm rest, Carl resting his against the other. Both our Dads tuck us in.

'Goodnight,' He signs to me, knelt just beside the sofa. 'You still hungry or thirsty?'

I shake my head, yawning. 'Just sleepy.'

'You were very brave today.' He tells me, earnest eyes boring into mine. 'Not many kids would do what you did.'

'I just wanted to help Lori and the baby.'

'I know. They got a better chance, now.'

'Does that mean I get to name the baby?'

He smirks a little bit. 'We'll see.'

I glimpse Beth muttering to Hershel over Dad's shoulder, sharing a big blanket. I sign, 'Would Momma be proud, too?'

His face falls. The words hit him right in the heart, a poisonous bolt. All he says is, 'Yes.'

'Good,' I manage to reply, right before my eyes start to droop closed.

'Goodnight,' He signs again.

Placing a kiss to my cheek, my Dad pulls back and lays his own blanket down on the floor in front of me, laying facing the fire.

Rick was right. This is a Hell of a lot better than those garages back in Newnan.

I would like to help T-Dog spot Santa, I really would, but I just can't stay awake even one moment longer.

I'm being shaken gently.

Groaning, I open my eyes. Dad's face is inches from mine, all the windows behind him filled with grey daylight.

Adjusting the crossbow on his shoulder, he signs, 'Good morning.'

'Good morning.'

Sitting up, I groggily take in the sight of the group still laid out across the room, fast asleep. All except for Dad, and also Rick and Carl. I see them standing in the archway, both dressed for the snow just like Dad is, whispering to each other.

'Get your coat,' Dad says, and before I get the chance to ask what's going on; 'We're going searching for presents.'

We're what?!

After waking Glenn and putting him on watch, the four of us set out into the neighbourhood. The sun slowly rises from behind the falling snow, eclipsing the roofs of the houses around us and washing the morning in a soft, pink and yellow hue. It's quiet, peaceful, just how it always is before the day fully starts. Carl, Mouse, and are rowdily running down the sidewalk, disturbing it all.

It's Christmas. According to us, it's Christmas, and ain't nobody here to tell us otherwise!

Dad and Rick follow after us until we make it to the park, the two oldies totally left in our dust as we make a beeline for the playground and pounce on the metal merry-go-round. It's been so long since I went on one of these. It feels like we're breaking a rule, a rule that nobody said aloud, but we ain't. Our Dads told us loud and clear that today, we're allowed to do whatever we want.

I'll spin us, Carl's laughing as he pushes on one of the handles, Mouse wisely standing back.

I still remember to hold on tight. Here we go!

Once he's picked up enough speed, he makes a jump for the platform. He skids around like a drunk, landing on his ass. He hugs the closest handle. The world spins into a multi-coloured smear. I just can't stop laughing, not even if I tried.

As the ride slows down, it feels like I'm 'bouta hurl up all that salami I ate last night.

Again!, I shout.

The next time we come to a stop, we round on the sight of Dad and Rick standing off to the side, watching us.

'Wanna get pushed?,' My Dad asks us, nodding to the swings.

I jump off the platform. 'Yes!'

Rick effortlessly peels the dead walker I saw yesterday offa the seat, throwing it aside and helping me on. I'on know how long we swing for, but the warm, pink sun spills and spills between the trees until it's on my face, making me forget the cold.

Spring is right around the corner, now.

This whole nightmare is almost over. I can just tell.

One of these days, the sun will crest the horizon and the snow just won't come.

It doesn't take long for us to make it back to town square.

'Where should we start?', Rick asks.

'I want to look in Petey's,' I answer right away, pointing to the storefront. 'But Carl can't come.'

Obviously, it's because I'm gonna be picking something out for him, which is why he starts giggling when Dad translates.

Rick ruffles the boy's hair, nudging him in the opposite direction. 'It's a plan. We'll search over here.'

'There's a toy store that way,' Dad adds helpfully.

'We'll check it out. Good luck.'

'Good luck. Watch out for elves.'

He laughs a bit as I whistle for Mouse, who runs after us. 'We will.'

Passing barrels of wrinkled flowers, Dad sticks his fingers between the automatic glass doors and forces them open, pulling his crossbow down as they roll apart on the tracks. Out of the darkness, a human-shaped shadow stumbles toward us.

It drops to the floor before it can even open its mouth.

Lowering his crossbow, Dad nods me forward, tugging his bolt outta the walker's wet face.

Look around, He says, wiping the blood off on his thigh.

The first thing I check is the comic section, of course. I'm hoping they got the series Carl likes, the one with the kick-ass astronauts and the evil aliens on the cover that I can't remember the name of. Captain Noel and the Astronauts, or something like that. I read it just the other week while he was dozed off, just to see what all the fuss was about. Weren't hard to see why he likes it.

As I step over a fallen sale sign, Mouse sniffs around the shelves, skulking around the corner.

Approaching the display stand, I skip right over the magazines and check out the comics, flicking through the covers. There's pictures of supervillain scientists, monsters, ninjas in impossible poses, wielding metal stars. They's all dumb-looking, so I'm sure Carl would eat them up like hot cakes for breakfast, but I really want the alien one. He been after the next volume since we met him.

There's a tap on my shoulder.

Hm?

Glancing up at Dad, I watch as he pulls a comic down from the highest rack, holding it out for me to see.

Captain Nate and the Awesome Eight, The quirky logo reads. 

Grabbing it up like it might disappear before my eyes, I feel the pages crinkle under my fingers. This is the one!

Volume Four, It says at the bottom. The final mission.

I hold up three fingers to Dad.

Understanding, he flips through the comics again before handing me the third volume.

I take it, hugging them both to my chest before signing, 'These are for Carl. He loves them.'

'Really? I thought they were for Beth.'

Pssh. He ain't funny. 'Let's keep looking. We need something for her, too!'

He puts the comics in my backpack for me, following me around the store to continue our hunt for the perfect presents.

For Beth, I find a couple bottles of nail polish in the tiny makeup display, throwing in a black tube-thing that reads, Mascara, along with them for Lori, or maybe for Maggie. I ain't sure. I ask Dad what he thinks, but he got even less of a clue than I do.

I decide to throw in a second tube and some eyeshadow thingies just to be safe.

For Rick and Herschel, we decide on a pair of woolly socks for each of them. You just can't go wrong with socks.

When we find some shirts with silly phrases on them, I know instantly that they would be perfect for Glenn and T-Dog.

Lastly, Dad makes us grab a bunch of random things that we need, like canned food and lighters, before we turn into the pet aisle. Mouse is there, nosing a package of tennis balls along the floor. He looks confused when they roll under the shelves. I crouch down, pulling them back out. It looks like he found his own present. He watches me stash them in my bag, pink tongue lolling happily. 

On our way out, I pass by the rack again, stealing a girly magazine off it that I think Carol will like.

Carl and Rick meet us back on the street, both their backpacks suspiciously fatter than they were the last time we saw them.

'How'd it go?'

Good, Rick says, as Carl tries to get a peek inside my bag. 'Want to swap?'

Before the boy gets to close, I fend him off, giggling as he wrestles me.

'Sure.' Dad pulls him offa me. 'Hard to get a present for your kid when they're right beside you.'

'Exactly.' Rick chuckles, offering his hand to me.

I take it, blowing a raspberry at Carl's back as he walks off with my Dad in the opposite direction.

The store Rick and I check out is the record store, Jameson's Jams, just across the way. After he scopes the place out, coming up empty, it's safe for us to go in. The smell of dust and plastic swarms us I look around at the tubs of record sleeves and CDs.

'It used to be tidy in here,' I sign to him, even though he could prolly guess that.

The doors close behind him, shutting the snow out.

' Did you go here often?'

'All the time.' I meander up to the nearest bin. 'My parents loved music.'

As I pick up an edgily-decorated sleeve that catches my eye, Rick steps up to my side.

'Something tells me their music taste clashed,' He jokes. 'Am I right?'

No. 'They both had bad taste.'

Scoffing, I throw the sleeve back, walking around to the other side of the tubs.

Chuckling to himself, he glances down at the record I'd been holding. It fits my Dad to damn T. I don't take it with me, though, because we ain't got no way to play it. It'd just be a waste of space, so I crack open a CD instead, taking out the paper.

Tossing the useless part back in the bin, I look up to see Rick already looking at me.

He's frowning, his brown hair poking out from underneath his beanie, curled over his faint wrinkles.

'What?,' I gesture impatiently.

What's he want?

I hate to admit it, but there's a little stain of bitterness left inside me after what he did to my Momma's photo.

It weren't like it was on purpose, but it didn't have to be.

'I'm sorry,' He signs, the tubs separating us by at least ten feet feeling more like a hundred.

'It's okay,' I brush it off. 'I'm not mad at you.'

'I know. Trust me, I can tell when you're mad at me,' He smiles for a fleeting moment. 'I'm apologising, anyway.'

'That was the only photo I had of her, you know.'

'I know.'

'Her name was Lindsey.'

'I know. Your Dad talks to me about her, sometimes.'

'Why did you throw it?'

He pauses, picking at a sticker on the wood before fessing up, 'Shane makes me angry, honey. I was angry. I threw it.'

'Angry? Not sad?'

'No. Not sad.' He shakes his head. 'We were all past that when we saw the truck leaving the farm.'

'He gave me the locket. My Dad threw it away the night you burned the photo.'

'Yes, I know. He talked to me about that, too.'

'He did?'

'He was going to let you keep it.'

'Why didn't he?'

'You know why.'

Yeah. I do. I don't even know why I asked that. He threw it away for the same reason I'm not allowed to talk about Ronnie.

Rick changes the subject, the tension in his shoulders melting away as he signs, 'Thank you. Again.'

'For the hospital?'

He nods. 'You were brave.'

'Dad said the same thing.'

'It's true. Even I would have been scared, and I'm thirty-four years old.'

'You're never scared.'

'I'm scared all the time.' I'm pretty sure he didn't mean to say that. I wait until he says something else. 'Thank you.'

Hell. He shouldn't make me laugh like that. I'mma breathe in all this dust. 'You're worse than Glenn.'

'What do you mean?'

'You can't stop saying 'Thank you'. He can't stop saying 'Sorry'. Feet hurt. Sorry. My ears ring. Sorry. It's funny.'

'He's sensitive,' Rick agrees fondly.

'I know. He cried last night.'

A muted chuckle. 'That's right. He did.'

As I look off to the side, something on the wall catches my eye.

Guitars. A lot of them.

Abandoning the piece of paper, I run over to them, stepping onto a chair and pulling down an electric guitar.

Rick is eye-level with me when he comes over. 'Your Dad said he knows how to play.'

Nodding, I give the strings a dramatic thrum.

It must be painful, going by the way Rick looks like he's just heard nails going down a chalkboard.

I can't help but laugh, turning to hook it back up. Like the record and the CD, it would just be a waste of space. Electric guitars don't sound so good if you don't got anything to plug them into. Acoustic ones, however, they're perfect anywhere.

Hopping onto to the next chair over, I pull down a classically wooden guitar, cold to the touch. 

When I strum this one, Rick gives a thumbs up. It'll need tuning, but that's a piece of cake.

Jumping down, I have a thought.

'How the Hell do we hide this from him?'

He looks the thing up and down. 'We might have to give it to him now.'

Aw. 'That's not as fun.'

'How about this — You hide behind me. When we see him, you jump out. Is that fun?'

Hmmm. 'Okay. Let's do that!'

Carl's a lot harder to appease than I am, which must be the reason Rick lets out a little sigh of relief. 'Great.'

'It needs a shoulder strap,' I decide, grabbing one from the rack nearby and ripping it outta the plastic. I try to figure it out, turning it over to get a good look, but then I just pass it off to Rick's mittened hands. 'You know how to put it on?'

'Let me try.' He accepts the challenge, kneeling in front of the guitar.

Buttoning each end of the leather strap to the metal attachments, it looks like he's got it.

He hands it back, raising his brows at me. 'Remember to jump out. We have to get him to crap his pants.'

'It's a plan.'

Before we meet back up, we stop by the thrift store next door so that Rick can grab the shirt he'd had in mind for Carl, a simple thing with a superhero he likes on the chest. As we leave through the front doors, Rick herds me in behind his back.

We're only waiting in town square for a minute or two before he signals me that they're coming over.

When I feel the time is right, I jump out!

Rahh!

Dad don't quite crap his pants, but his eyes do widen ever so slightly. In Dixon terms, he's chilled to the bone.

My back-up man watches on, laughing.

I hold out the guitar once the moment's passed, hoping it's obvious that this is his Christmas present.

Woah, breathes Carl as my Dad takes it carefully, Mouse's tail batting around wildly at his ankle.

We watch as he drags his thumb down the strings, remembering what it feels like. Slowly, he starts to smile.

Looking up at me, he seems very, very pleased. 'Thank you. I love it.'

'Merry Christmas!'

'We knew we couldn't hide it from you,' Rick explains, 'So we scared you instead.'

'Did it work?'

Dad nods, frowning as he mouths the word, Terrifying, before kneeling to wrap me in a hug. I kiss his cheek.

'Did you get everything you wanted?'

Nodding again, Dad stands and passes the guitar to Rick, seeing as he's already wearing his crossbow.

Pulling it on, Rick nods in the direction we came from. 'Let's head back, then.'

We make it only five feet before we notice Carl isn't following us.

Looking back at him, he points at the parking lot across the street.

We follow his finger.

Across the street, the lonely bike with the streamers still lays there in the snow, next to a couple other bikes.

We glance between each other, a glint of something cheeky in our eyes.

We're all thinking the same thing, ain't we?

It's a long walk, anyways.

Who the Hell bikes in the snow, is what a sensible person would ask themselves as they saw us race past their house.

We do!, is what I'd shout back at them.

We're zooming down the streets of Sharpsburg like we're late for a wedding, the most ridiculous sight the apocalypse ever did see. Rick, taking the lead just like always, with a guitar bumping around on his back as he pumps the peddles of a pink bike. Carl on the little one, its rainbow streamers blowing out on either side of him without a care in the world. Mouse, sprinting to keep up.

He's going so fast; I think his ears might just fly off and smack me in the face!

It's a challenge to not fall off the handlebars of Dad's bike just from laughing so hard.

I clutch onto it harder as we crest over the top of a hill. Rick goes flying down first, then Carl. Dad wraps an arm around my stomach, hugging me to his chest as we both laugh against each other. We're next. My stomach lurches. My toes go numb. Then we're free-falling, and the tyres are shaking beneath us and the handlebars are jiggling all over the place, the wind racing past us.

Sucking in a deep breath, I let out a shriek of, Wuh-Hooooooo!

My heart's beating outta my chest like when a walker's got me in its grasp, when I feel most alive.

Whatever day I've said is the best day of my life — This is it, now. Hands down.

Rick reaches the bottom first, doing a fancy little skid in the snow and glancing over his shoulder at us to see our reaction.

Carl gives him a thumbs down, making him laugh as he turns back around.

The hill flattens out into more suburbia.

We slow down to a more leisurely pace for the rest of the ride back, and simply enjoy the morning together, trailing the sidewalks like a bunch of kids. The sun is well into the sky now, shining through the frigid air without any clouds to cover it up.

When I spot the house in the distance, I'm almost sad.

As we pull into the driveway, bumping over curb, Glenn stands from his seat on the porch steps.

Hey, guys, He's laughing, perplexed.

Rick answers him with a few flicks of his bell, braking to a stop.

Where'd you go?, He asks, as I jump down from the handlebars.

Carl dumps his bike on the ground and holds up his backpack, shouting, Presents!

He gawks. No shit?

No shit!, He exclaims, running straight past him and up the porch.

I catch Rick sharing a funny look with my Dad, but he lets the swear word go. It's that type of day.

The adrenaline-high don't leave my body even as I follow everyone inside the house, stepping into the busy lounge room. We're greeted by the rest of our group, who are more than awake by now, hugging us as we come through the archway. They're completely beaming. It's obvious. They've heard the great news — We went out in the early morning to do Santa's bidding, for no other reason than because we managed to live long enough to the today, and because we deserve it. For once, we can ignore everything else.

Shrugging off my backpack, I set it down on the coffee table. Carol and Herschel tidy away the empty snack packs as Dad, Rick, and Carl set theirs down, too. Everybody's eyeing the bags excitedly, tryna see if they can make out the goodies inside.

'You guys are sneaky,' T grins, wide enough to show off the gap between his two front teeth. 'Sneaky!'

'Where did you go?!,' Maggie wants to know.

She lounges back on the sofa, Mouse jumping into her lap.

'Town square.' Rick's looking livelier than he has all Winter; all year, maybe. 'We left while you were all asleep.'

T seems to have an epiphany. 'It's you guys!'

'What?,' He asks.

'You're Santa!'

Realizing the man is pulling our legs, Rick rolls his eyes.

Carl goes on to ramble all about our adventures. By the way he's miming it all out, I can tell he ain't leaving out our visit to the playground. Everyone's watching him with nothing but joy in their eyes, adding comments here and there, laughing.

When Beth notices the guitar, my Dad proudly shows it off to the room.

'Harley found it,' He signs, reigning everyone back in, reminding them to use signs. 'Pretty, ain't it?'

Herschel turns to look at me. 'What a wonderful, wonderful gift.'

'I got more,' I tease, giving my backpack a tempting wiggle. I can't wait to give out the rest of the presents!

'Let's just get right into it then, right?,' Rick suggests. 'Go crazy.'

That's all the permission anyone needs.

As the three of them open their backpacks and start handing out presents left and right, I get to opening mine.

The first things I pull out are the stupid shirts for Glenn and T-Dog, walking over to them and putting them in their hands. Maggie's laughing her ass off as they hold them up to their chests, cluelessly peering down at the text. I step back to admire my work. Sorry I'm late, T's shirt reads, and Hell, it's even funnier than I imaged it would be, I was doing my hair! I think he's laughing something like, You little punk, before he glances over at Glenn's to see the damage. I'm with stupid, His says, except the arrow is pointing at his face.

Aw Hell naw!, He unabashedly laughs.

'Put them on!,' I demand, taking the fabric in my hands. Glenn helps me out, pulling it over what he's already wearing and straightening it out so the message is on full display. T-Dog does the same thing, even if he does call me a punk again.

'How do we look?,' Glenn asks me and Maggie when they're done, giving a stiff twirl.

'Don't answer that,' T-Dog says.

I give Maggie her gift next, the Mascara. She plants a kiss on my cheek and pulls me in for a tight hug, releasing me so I can head over to the other ladies. Carol gratefully takes the magazine, Lori and Beth Oohing and Aahing over the makeup.

It's no 'Electric Spring Citrus', but Beth still seems very touched by the bottle of yellow polish.

Next, I pull out the tennis balls. Boy, does that get Mouse's attention. I rip off the seal, sending them all bouncing across the living room floor, almost tripping some people over. Mouse darts after this one and that one, chasing them all over the place as I hand the socks to Herschel and Rick. They're both delighted, taking turns giving me a hug. We was right. Ya can't go wrong with socks.

'Carl and your Dad have something for you,' Rick tells me as he pulls away, pointing over to them.

I tap Carl on the shoulder, and when the two of them turn around and realize me, his face lights up.

Harley!, He's exclaiming.

He digs through his bag and holds out my two presents. 

'Thank you!,' I sign, taking them. Oh, wow. A diary and a packet of colored pencils. I don't gotta squeeze my thoughts into the margins, no more. I got fresh, blank pages, enough to prolly last me a whole year. Giving Carl a hug, I hold up a finger; Wait.

Reaching into my backpack and feeling out the comics, I pause just to be dramatic, before I pull them out for him to see. His jaw drops as he snatches them up. All them months hearing him complain, and watching him read the same volume over and over, makes it all the more satisfying to see him flick through the pages, realizing with mounting horror that it's everything he dreamt of.

Thank you, He's shouting, Thank you!

'Wanna see what I got you?,' Dad says next. 'You can both play with it, but it's for you, okay?'

'Okay! Show me!'

Carl and I crouch down with him as he unzippers his backpack. What he pulls out is not like anything I would've expected.

A big, flat white box with a photo on the front of some kids kicking a soccer ball into a little pop-up goal in the sun.

'Can't play soccer without a goal.' He smirks as I take the box in my hands, ready to tear it open with my teeth if I gotta.

They both help me pick the tape off the cardboard, pulling it open and turning the whole thing upside down. The goal slides out. Having finally been broken out of the confines of its box, it immediately springs into shape, almost smacking us all in the face.

Dodging it with a laugh, I exclaim, 'Thank you, Dad!' 

'Do you like it?,' He asks.

'I love it! How do we set it up?'

Looking about, he finds a small baggie of metal stakes that fell out with it, and a page of instructions.

I lean in closer to take a peek as he skims over them, but it all looks simple enough.

'Easy,' He decides. 'We can set it up in the front yard, yeah?'

'Yeah. I'm gonna smoke you both so bad.'

Dad thwacks my arm with the piece of paper. 'Hey. Who said I'm playing?'

'Oh. So, you're scared.' I nod empathetically, feeling smug. 'That's okay. I'm rusty, too.'

'Seriously?'

'I only won three medals when I was in school.'

'I'm old, kid. I'm in my thirties. I'm pretty much dead.'

'Loud and clear. You're scared of losing.'

He rolls his eyes. 'You're a brat. Don't cry when you lose.'

'I've never cried in my life, Dad. Ask Carl.'

As soon as he passes on the question, Carl levels me with the most, Get serious, expression I ever seen in my life.

Whatever. 'I'll still win!'

'We'll see,' He says as I glance at the rest of the group.

'This was so thoughtful of you guys,' Maggie signs from her seat on the sofa, doing that little pout she does.

With all the presents handed out, I take my time looking around the room. T and Glenn are still wearing their t-shirts, of course. If I could have it my way, they wouldn't ever wear anything else. It looks like Rick and Carl gifted Glenn a magazine about race cars, and T-Dog a flashy, gold chain necklace that he manages to make look cool. Lori and Herschel are wearing new matching jackets, the material purple and puffy. They look like father and daughter, sitting there like that, Lori's head resting on the old man's shoulder. Beside them, Carol's blowing air onto Beth's painted nails, while Mouse lays on the floor, gnawing at the tennis ball he must've decided is his favorite.

And Rick. He's not pouring over a map. He's not frowning to himself as he cleans a gun. He's not snapping at one of us to, Stop that, We need to stay focused. He's just smiling faintly next to Glenn, refusing to reveal to anyone this was all his idea.

'I'm just glad there's no wrapping paper to clean up this year,' He chuckles, looking at Lori.

The woman smirks, shaking her head. Bad memories, I guess.

'Every year,' He continues, gesturing to an invisible pile in his lap, 'We would end up with this much.'

'You're not the only ones.' T-Dog scoffs, like this is a lifelong issue he's faced.

'Oh, yeah. You were a garbage man, weren't you?,' Glenn remembers.

'Minimum wage, brother,' He agrees, bringing the pizza-boy in for a bro-hug.

'What have you got there, Harley?,' Maggie asks as they pull apart.

'A soccer goal,' I excitedly answer, before holding up Rick and Carl's presents. 'And a diary and pencils!'

'I don't want you to think it's for schoolwork with Lori,' Rick says. 'Carl just told me he's seen you journalling.'

'I love it,' I shake my head. 'Thank you.'

That bitterness that I'd been feeling toward him, it disappears just as quickly as it came.

'You haven't been writing anything bad about me, have you?,' Glenn asks threateningly.

'Just a little bit,' I shrug.

'She's a brat, isn't she?,' My Dad jokes.

'She's a total brat.'

'Hey! I don't like you, either.'

'Well, Merry Christmas, everyone.' Maggie says to wrap things up. 'Time to take this outside. We got a game to play.'

'Sounds like it,' Rick agrees.

'Come on.' Dad stands back up, grabbing the soccer goal and the stakes.

Jumping up and pulling on Maggie's sleeve, I exclaim up at her, 'We should be on the same team!'

'Girl power,' She agrees, frowning stubbornly as we descend the porch steps.

Mouse goes running out into the snow with his tennis ball. Dad heads over to the fence, setting down the goal and pushing the stakes through the rubber loops to secure it to the ground. I tell him I hope he did a good job of it, because me and Maggie are gonna be making every goal we shoot for. It's Dad and Carl versus us two girls, so the competition is even fiercer. We gotta win!

'We got this,' Maggie goads as T-Dog takes up the goalie position.

Carol pumps her fist in the air. 'Let's go, girls!'

Everyone starts cheering us on as Maggie kicks the ball straight over to me. The game's begun! I stop it with my foot, watching as she skirts around Dad, shouting for me. I boot it back to her at just the right moment, running forwards.

Maggie dukes Dad, left, right, left, before she kicks it right between his feet and back to me.

I stop it again with my foot.

Carl's on me, suddenly. He tries to use his foot to steal the ball away from me, but I don't let him!

Keeping him at arm's length, I line up my shot with the goal. I've done it a million times before. What's one more!

I rear my foot back, and—!

T-Dog's far too big and slow to see it coming. The ball shoots right past him — Goal! — and crashes into the meshing.

'Point for the girls,' Rick announces from the sidelines.

Maggie runs up to me, grabbing my hands and squealing happily, with the boys sulking together in the background.

We end up winning. There's a few close calls here and there, but we're just too quick on our feet for them to really get any smooth moves in. As the winning goal is made by Maggie, Carl stomps his foot into the snow, complaining, Aww, man!

We use every last bit of energy we have left in us to play for the rest of the morning. For once, not just for getting out of bed, or making it through the day. We manage to get a couple more rounds of soccer in before somebody throws a snowball at my Dad while he's trying to kick a goal, and then it all devolves into a snowball fight. There's no teams or rules; just clumps of snow flying across the yard, people falling over, Rick laughing, and Glenn getting dogpiled to the ground until Dad has to come and rescue him from us.

Nobody's really winning, but I don't think anyone's keeping count, anyway. Nobody's losing, either.

Except maybe Carl, when he tanks a snowball directly to the face.

I gasp. Youch!

He wipes it off with a grin, scurrying off to start preparing some returning fire.

I hurry to join him behind the wall of snow, bulking up my snowball before launching it at one of the adults.

It hits Glenn in the jaw. He lurches; falls onto his ass.

Me and Carl share a high five!

To think I was dreading coming back to this town, when it's actually given me one of the best days of my life.

Is it bad I'm happy the world ended?

Probably, but I don't care.

FIVE MONTHS LATER.

I can hear light birdsong in the trees.

We've stopped again, on some highway or other. I'on know. They all look the same to me. Grey road, winding up a hill, flanked on both sides by a strip of dirt and twigs. While the others get outta the cars, slamming their doors shut and grouping together to discuss what's next, I turn my head away from them and gaze out the passenger side window. The sun warms my face. I remember back during the Wintertime; we hardly ever saw the sun. Hell. That was forever ago. Nowadays, we been fending off heatstroke, feels like.

I close my eyes, relishing in the sounds around me. Leaves brushing, idle engines rumbling.

There are a lot of moments like this for me, where I'll just ignore what everyone else is doing and listen. I'll listen to anything. The car radio, if anybody's got it playing, even if it's a song I don't like. A river flowing. A deer trilling. It's the best part of my day.

"We got nowhere else to go," Herschel's suddenly saying, and then I'm opening my eyes again.

The group is gathered around the hood of the car I'm sat up in, splaying a map out for them to study.

"When this herd meets up with this one," Maggie points, "We'll be cut off. We'll never make it South."

"What'd you say it was? About 150 head?" Dad estimates.

"That was last week." Glenn's shaking his head, squinting against the sun. "It could be twice that by now."

I've heard this exact conversation about thirty times over by now.

That herd from last year; It's thawed and split into two, and neither are getting any smaller. The more they walk, the more they pick up. It's how it's always gone. They been following us, and we been running. That's how that's always gone, too.

We had a couple places we holed up for a while. Sharpsburg served us well while it lasted, but we had to move, eventually.

Now, we're back on the run.

"The river could've delayed them," Herschel suggests. "If we move fast, we might have a shot to tear right through here."

"Yeah, but if that group joins with that one, they could spill out this way."

"So, we're blocked."

We're always blocked, I want to tell Maggie. You know this by now.

In moments like these, I think back to the day we had that snowball fight and try to remember what everyone's smiles looked like.

"Only thing to do is double back at 27," Rick says, "And swing back this way."

Rick's different. For Rick, I think back to the bike ride.

T-Dog's getting frustrated. "We picked through that place, already. It's like we spent the past five months going in circles."

"Yeah, I know. I know."

"Is this what we're doing, then?"

When Rick nods, T-Dog asks him, "Is it alright if we head down to the river to fill up on water, then?"

"Sure. Knock yourself out," He says as they disperse, Maggie rolling up the map.

Herschel whispers something to Rick, then, and I can't quite catch it. My hearing aids ain't that good, but I know it's about Lori because they glance over at her in the car behind me. It's probably the, She can't keep doing this, conversation. Like always, Rick's wiping his sweaty forehead, bullshitting his way through an answer, and like always, Herschel is patient with him. They know he's right.

Lori's about to burst, way her stomach's been looking these days. She's gonna give birth any day now.

I'm just glad she got better and stayed better.

That was a nasty sickness.

Herschel leaves Rick to think about what he's said, making an opening for Dad to ask him to go hunting.

I'm surprised when he turns to me. "You wanna come, chicken?"

There's that Southern twang I once forgot the sound of.

'Come hunting with you?,' I sign, just outta habit. Sometimes, my voice is just too loud for me to bare.

"Yeah. You can stretch yer legs a little. How 'bout it?"

Not wanting to spend one more second in this car, I agree by opening the door and jumping onto the tarmac.

He whistles for Mouse, and then we're walking into the treeline.

"Carl says it was blue, but the boy's blind," I ramble to Rick as we walk along the train tracks, keeping an eye out for animals.

"Between the pair'a ya," Dad muses from in front of us. "You almost make a full vegetable."

"Shut up, Daddy. You ain't funny."

He snickers a little before facing forward again, crossbow at the ready. "Sure I ain't."

"Anyway." I sigh as he pushes a leafy branch outta the way. Rick ducks under it, and then me. "Like I's sayin'—"

When I look up, the sight that greets me has all words dying on my tongue. I slowly catch up with Dad and Rick, who have also completely forgotten about the story I was telling. It weren't very interesting, anyway. Something about a frog Carl and I found the other day. The sun beats down on us as we look out over the sheer drop just in front of us, and at the rolling, green hills in the distance.

Well, I'll be goddamned.

That right there is a whole ass prison.

End Notes.

Okay that's it. I cannot edit this chapter any longer. What's done is done!!

WE ARE FINALLY IN SEASON 3 !! It only took a year and 28 chapters.

I'm very glad to be back in canon again, but writing Christmas with the group was so fun. Also very glad to be able to write Daryl's accent and slang properly again haha. It just didn't translate into sign language. I know some of you will also be relieved that we're not using it much anymore.

As always, I really hope you enjoyed!

Thanks for reading! Until next time! 💙 :)

#the walking dead #twd fanfiction #twd #fanfic #daryl dixon #daryl dixon daughter #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #angst #rick grimes #glenn rhee #maggie rhee #twd daryl dixon #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl twd #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #rick grimes x reader #fluff #the ones who live

[darth-mortem]

This is a third chapter of my COD fic "At the Crossroads of the Worlds" translated by @g8se.

Task force "141" was sent to clean up a secret laboratory, the research of which was financed by states recognized as sponsors of terrorism. The soldiers broke into a bunker located in the Caucasus Mountains on the Russian-Georgian border. At first, everything went according to plan, but after the fighters split up, Ghost came across a strange room, the door of which locked automatically the moment he was inside. Without knowing it, Simon Riley had set off an experiment that had been brewing here for years, and now he would have to be very strong to finally return home.

First chapter | Second chapter

Chapter 3 of 6. 2,221 words.

Past character death, angst, action, secret lab, experiment, parallel worlds

August 16, 2016. Temporary base of TF 141. Iran. Zagros ridge. Coordinates classified. Experiment Status: Twenty-six hours after successful equipment launch. Vital signs of the subject are within norm. Reality LW414/2016.

“Ghost, wake up.” Captain Riley sighed deeply, recognizing the familiar voice of his younger double.

“We’ve arrived?” He rasped after waking up, rubbing his eyes through the openings in his mask.

“Yes,” MacTavish nodded, getting up. “Will ye help me take Roach to the medical?”

Ghost agreed, and they carried the injured soldier out of the landing compartment. Around them were several buildings, most of which looked quite neglected, and a large hangar with a rusty roof. Inside, a few vehicles and what seemed to be an APC. Once all the soldiers disembarked from the heli, the pilot began manoeuvring it into the hangar. Ghost glanced at him, and the pilot waved his hand before returning back to work.

“What is this place?” Captain Riley asked as they walked towards one of the buildings. “And where are we?”

“We’re in Iran,” Price said, lighting a cigarette. “It used to be a terrorist base. We cleared it, and it turns out we're the only living people left who know about this facility. So, this is our safe place.”

The soldiers repurposed one of the buildings for their needs. Supplies of food, ammunition, fuel, and some other equipment were stored in several rooms. A separate room was turned into an infirmary, and the wounded soldier was carried just there.

“I'll bandage him up and stay with him,” MacTavish said. “Just don't forget to call me when the food is ready.”

“Thank God you won't be the one cooking,” Lieutenant Riley snorted and was the first to leave the room.

Two captains followed him, and the younger Ghost suggested showing the older one around the base.

“Good idea,” Price replied and smiled. “Show him everything around here and help our new friend settle in somewhere. Maybe in your room while Roach is in the infirmary?”

“Sure,” Lieutenant Riley replied briefly. “And who will take care of the food?”

“I will,” Price said, “just need to check on our helicopter first. We took a bit of a beating, and the pilot had to fix everything before picking us up.”

They went their separate ways. The captain of 141 went back to the hangar, and Lieutenant Riley led his older double through the building. He explained where everything was stored, showed a room repurposed as a small kitchen, led to a room where the soldiers could spend time together, something like a recreation room, showed the shower, mentioning that there was artesian water from a well, but it was cold, to say the least – icy. Then Simon pointed to a door, saying that behind it was Price and Soap's room, and he opened it, making an inviting gesture with his hand.

The room was small but quite clean and tidy. There were a few metal shelves, a small table, a chair, and a bunk bed.

“Mine is the upper one,” the lieutenant said. “So, make yourself comfortable on the lower one. Wait a bit, I'll clear space for your gear.”

“Are there any outlets here?” the captain asked and smiled under his mask. “I need to charge something.”

They used a generator for power, and there were not many outlets in this room. So, Simon went somewhere and soon returned with an extension cord with four sockets. Then he began rearranging equipment to make room for the older Ghost's belongings but stopped, watching with curiosity what he was doing. Taking wires and adapters from his cargo pockets, Captain Riley began connecting them to the collimator sight on his assault rifle to some device on the end of his pistol, and to the thermal imager, which he had previously disconnected from his helmet.

“I just noticed how interesting your weapons are,” the lieutenant said, approaching the table. “What's all this?”

“Sit down, I'll show you,” the captain offered. “Come closer so the wire length is enough. This is a modified Beretta M92*. Lightweight frame, waterproof coating, and an eighteen-round magazine. Take it, try how it feels.”

The younger Ghost took the pistol, checked its weight, pulled and pushed back the magazine, then stood up and tried different stances and grips. Under the barrel, there was a flashlight and a Picatinny rail attached to the barrel, but it was empty. On the end, as Simon had noticed earlier, there was a device with a display, which currently showed a charging progress.

“What's this?” The lieutenant asked.

“Turn it on, you'll see,” the captain smiled.

On the side he’s found a small power button. The younger Ghost sat back, pressed it, and saw the message "Ammo" and the number "18" on the screen. Tilting it, he pulled out the drum, and the device immediately registered it.

“It counts your ammo, warns when you’re running low, and reminds you to reload,” the older Ghost smiled. “To me, it's a just a toy, but it helps young and inexperienced soldiers. Now, take the assault rifle.”

“Is this an M16?” the lieutenant put the pistol aside and took the weapon. “Not very comfortable, although the stock is adjusted to you, and you're twice my size.”

“Well, not twice,” the captain smiled. “It's the MX25, based on the M16. Turn on the collimator sight and look around, tell me what you think. And tomorrow, we'll readjust all of this for you, and you’ll try it out.”

Curious, Simon did what his older double advised him. Looking through the sight, he saw a red dot, and then slowly moved the rifle in different directions. It turned out that the collimator sight also distinguishes thermal radiation, even through walls. The lieutenant saw red zones on the side where the generator and the kitchen were. Then he pulled out the magazine, made sure there was no cartridge in the chamber, and aimed the weapon at the older Ghost. His figure lit up in green and was outlined.

“Why are the generator and kitchen red, and you're green?” Simon asked.

“The sight detects obstacles between you and the target,” his older counterpart explained. “It can tell between moving and stationary targets, as well as living and non-living. However, when it comes to latter it’s somewhat limited.”

“This is very cool,” the lieutenant said and laid down the rifle. “What about knives? You love them too, right?”

“Naturally,” Captain Riley smiled under his mask and then unfastened tactical sheaths from his armour and handed one to his younger double.

While Simon examined the knife and played with it in his hand, checking the weight and balance, Ghost removed the chest rig and armour, stretching with satisfaction. Then came the turn of the knee pads and plates protecting the shins. The lieutenant watched with curiosity, and then, setting aside the knife, took one of these plates and raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“It's so light!” he said and, making sure the captain didn't mind, took his armour and weighed it in his hands. “Fucking hell, I would never believe this thing could take a direct shot from a short distance if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes! You probably have a huge bruise there.”

“Not at all,” Ghost smiled and stood up. “This is the latest development, a complex armoured composite material. It not only surpasses older armour plates in strength but also absorbs the impact force, spreading it evenly across the surface. And since we're on the topic, tell me, Simon, why were you there without your armour?”

Lieutenant didn't get a chance to respond. A knock echoed in the room, and a second later, Captain MacTavish appeared at the door.

“Roach woke up ‘n’ even managed tae stand up,” he reported. “And the food is ready, so put away yer toys and let's go ‘ave dinner.”

“Soap!” unexpectedly, the lieutenant got upset. “You can't talk like that to Captain Riley!”

MacTavish blinked and scratched his forehead before looking at the older Ghost and smiling at him.

“Right,” he said, “sorry, mate.”

Ghost waved it off, and all three of them went to the recreation room. Roach was already sitting on the old sofa by the table – pale, wrapped in bandages, but still alive. As Price, who was getting plates ready, said Sergeant Sanderson even made it here on his own two feet, just a bit leaning on Captain MacTavish.

“Soap told me about you,” Roach said in a weak voice, looking at the taller and bigger Ghost. “Said you saved me and Riley. So, thank you.”

“No need,” Captain Riley sat down, and the lieutenant settled next to him. “Tell me, guys, is the fact that you didn't have full gear has something to do with you being on the run?”

“Partly,” Price began serving canned meat and porridge onto plates. “We didn't expect such resistance, nor did we expect that bloody Shepherd would betray us.”

Ghost nodded and, receiving his portion and a cup of tea, took a fork and started eating. For a few minutes, everyone stayed silent, hungry and tired, and then Captain Riley realized that he didn't see the pilot here.

“He's not one o’ us,” Soap answered Ghost's question. “He owes us, so he helps out, but he stays oot of our business ‘n’ sleeps in the hangar. I brought ‘im food before calling ye ‘n’ Simon.”

There were no more questions, and the room fell silent again, interrupted only by the clatter of forks on plates. When dinner was finished, Soap, glancing at Price and seeing him nod, took a bottle filled with some murky liquid from the shelf. Everyone took a sip of their tea, and MacTavish poured something homemade and very unpleasant-tasting into the empty cups.

"Captain Riley showed me his weapons and gear," Simon said when everyone had finished drinking and caught their breath. "Ours doesn't even come close!"

The lieutenant began to talk about the weapon attachments and armour. Price lit a cigar, and Ghost noticed that this older and more serious Johnny was looking at his younger double with a slight but very gentle smile. No one interrupted Simon, and he told them everything, ending his speech by boasting that Captain Riley would let him try his assault rifle once all the high-tech gadgets were charged.

"You know what," Ghost said, looking at his younger counterpart, who, having finished, grabbed a cigarette from Soap and lit it, "I'll give it to you as a gift. I'll leave the charging cable; if you're careful, it will serve you until similar technologies appear in your world."

"Hold on, what aboot ye, going without a weapon?" Soap asked, leaning forward.

"Well," Ghost smiled faintly, and everyone saw it because the edge of his mask was still raised, "I don't think I'll stay with you for long. The reason why I ended up here int the first place was an experiment. And what's the point of an experiment if you can't find out the results? So, most likely, I'll somehow get back. But my gear can still help you. John, my armour will fit you. Roach, you lost your helmet in the mountains, so I'll give you mine. Captain, I see you haven't suffered a knee injury like Price from my world. I don't know if it's supposed to happen to you or if our worlds are completely different, but..."

"You have the same scar as me," Lieutenant Riley interrupted him, touching his lips.

"Exactly," Ghost nodded and looked at Price again. "So I'll give you knee pads and shin plates, and also my Beretta. The ammo in my weapon is standard, so you won't have a problem with that."

Soap wanted to receive his gift right now, so both Ghosts went to the room to bring everything. The soldiers of the 141 began to examine the weapons and try on the gear, and Captain Riley lit another cigarette, feeling that he had done the right thing. However, he couldn't dwell on it for too long because his younger double approached him, and the captain helped the lieutenant readjust all the moving parts of the MX25 stock to fit him.

It didn't take too long. After giving the guys and himself about fifteen minutes, Price stood up and ordered everyone to disperse and get ready for sleep. Everyone, except John, who still had to wash the dishes. While MacTavish was following this order, and Price himself led Roach back to the infirmary to check his bandages, both Ghosts quickly took a shower and returned to the room.

"Simon," Lieutenant called the captain, closing the door, "I also want to give you something. This is my knife. It's not as cool as yours, of course, but..."

"Thanks," Ghost took the knife, examined it, and raised his eyes to his younger counterpart. "Let's trade then, ‘cause how can you be left without a knife?"

For the next few minutes, they spent time attaching knives to their vests, and after that the lieutenant turned off the light and climbed onto his upper bunk. He heard the creaking below under the weight of the robust Captain Riley and quietly smiled under his balaclava.

"Goodnight, Simon," he said.

"And goodnight to you too," came the response from below, and the bunk creaked again as the captain settled in more comfortably.

Lieutenant Riley often suffered from terrible nightmares, but for some reason tonight, he was confident that he would sleep soundly until morning comes.

*All of Ghost's weapons from 2030 are fictional, but some features, such as the ammo counter, already exist in reality today.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghost x soap #ghostsoap #soapghost #soap x ghost #ghoap #ghost x ghost #09 ghost #og soap #captain soap mactavish #captain john mactavish #captain mactavish #captain john price #captain price #gary roach sanderson #parallel universe #fix it fic #cod fanfiction #fanfiction #work in progress #simon riley #johnny mactavish #john price

[rheya28]

The Crown [ Lounge + Bar] ♥ The Sims 4: Speed Build // CC

Welcome to The Crown, a haven of refined indulgence that seamlessly shifts from an upscale morning restaurant and lounge to a sophisticated evening gentlemen's club. In the daylight hours, experience culinary delights in an ambiance of polished dark wood accents, moody lights, and soft jazz.

As the sun sets, The Crown transforms into an intimate and stylish club, where discreet luxury meets thrilling entertainment. With an emphasis on sophistication, The Crown offers an unforgettable fusion of exquisite dining and sensual experiences in an atmosphere of opulence.

Additional Notes: ● In order for the adult club function to work, you must download the wicked whims mod [Download at your own risk]. ● This build does not have to be a club, it can be set as a restaurant, a lounge, or a bar. ● I am not 100% familiar with wicked whims so I will not be answering questions regarding the mod. However, I played around with it and did some playtesting as a club owner and everything is functioning correctly on my end. I advice that you look up tutorials if you're not sure to how this lot type works.

● Please make sure to turn bb.moveobjects on! ● Please DO NOT reupload or claim as your own. ● Feel free to tag me if you are using it, I love seeing my build in other peoples save file ● Feel free to edit/tweak my builds, but please make sure to credit me as the original creator! ● Thank you to all CC Creators ● Please let me know if there's any problem with the build

➽ SPEED BUILD VIDEO

00:00 Beginning 00:02 Intro 1:25 Speed Build 15:52 Photos Sim's Featured in the video are by the talented @rhdweauni0 <3

➽ LOT DETAILS

Lot Name: The Crown Lot type: Gentlemen's Club/Str*p Club [Can be set as a lounge, restaurant or bar] Lot size: 30x30 Location: Windenburg or San MyShuno

➽ MODS

● Tool Mod by Twisted Mexi ● Wicked Whims by Turbodriver [optional: This is only required if you want to set this lot as a club] ● Functional Pool Table by Utopya

➽ CC LIST:

Note: I reuse a lot of the same cc in all my builds, specifically cc's from felixandre, HeyHarrie, Tuds, and Pierisim so if you're interested in downloading past, present, future build from me i suggest getting all their cc sets to make downloading a little easier! other creators include Sooky, Charlypancakes, Sixam, Thecluttercat, Myshunosun, awingedllama, Peacemaker. This will also ensure that the lots are complete and are not missing any items upon downloading ! CharlyPancakes ● Miscellanea [books] ● Soak [ Floor pattern, wall lamp] Amelie ● Vintage Art print #3 Severinka ●Aura Bedroom - Ceiling lamp V01, V03 ● Ceiling lamp Alpha ●Industrial Light II Ceiling B, Ceiling D Sooky ● Dark Academia Victorian Oil Paintings 01 ● Horizontal Oil Painting - landscape ● Horizontal Oil Painting - Still Life ● Vertical Oil Painting - Landscape ● Vertical Oil Painting - Portrait ● Vertical Oil Painting - Still Life The Clutter Cat ● Dandy Diary pt 1, 2 ● Hello Horses FelixAndre ● Chateau [all ] ● Berlin pt 1 ● Colonial pt 2, 3 ● Florence pt 2 ● Gatsby ● Georgian ● Grove [ all ] ● London Interior ● Paris pt 2, 3 ● Soho pt 3 House of Harlix ● Harluxe ● Livin Rum ● Orjanic Harrie ● Brownstone [all] ● Baysic ● Brutalist ● Coastal pt 2, 3, 8 ● Klean pt 3 ● Kwatei ● Octave pt 2 ● Shop the look pt 1, 2 ● Spoons pt 3 ● Jardane Kiwisim4 ● Block house dining [dining chairs] Lilac Creative ● The classic Collection Little Dica ● The even Grander Piano Myshunosun ● Garden Stories [patio lights] ● Lottie [candle] ● Simmify pt 2 [book clutter] Pierisim ● Coldbrew pt 3 ● Combles [chair] ● David Apartment pt 1, 2 ● Domain du close pt 2, 3 ● MCM pt 1, 3 ● Oak House pt 4 ● Tilable ● Winter Garden pt 1, 2 ● Wood Land Ranch pt 3 Plush Pixels ● Parisian Apartment [coffee table only] Simcredible ● Bossa Nova Ceiling lamp Simplistic ● Rusticlife area rug Sixam ● Boho Bathroom [floor tiles] Taurus Design ● Lilith Chilling Areas MycupofCC ● The Modernist [wall lamp] Tuds ● Ind Syboulette ● Ratatouille [Sign ] Utopya ● Pool Table [mod]

● Tray File: Patreon Page ● Origin ID: Applez ● Twitter: Rheya28__ ● Tiktok: Rheya28__ ● Patreon: Rheya28 ● Youtube: Rheya28__

#ts4 #sims 4 #thesims4 #sims #thesims #showusyourbuilds #sims 4 cc #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 builds #builds #sims 4 build #sims 4 interior #the sims 4 cc build #the sims 4 restaurant #simblr #sims 4 gentlemens club

[aziraphales-library]

Do you have any fanfics about aziraphale being insecure about his weight? thanks you :))

We have loads on our #insecure aziraphale tag. Here are a few more to add to the collection...

Having and Holding by sheendav (M)

Aziraphale has a very specific bedtime request... one he fears Crowley will take the wrong way...

Fuck You Gabriel by smashedglassglitteringlikestars (E)

Crowley lets his angel know that it's okay to be soft.

You are beautiful, angel by Whatwashernameagain (M)

Aziraphale watches Crowley dance around his flat, drunk on good wine and freedom, and cannot help but be drawn to the way he moves, so fluid and graceful and entirely unselfconscious. He’s so beautiful with his fiery hair in the setting sun and his burning, wild eyes. Utterly breathtaking. The image of the lithe demon enjoying his body so confidently reminds him of how little he has to offer the person he craves to be close to more than he’s ever wanted anything in his entire existence. The cutting remarks spoken from smiling lips in heaven sting sharply as he remembers all of his failings as an angel. He feels very small suddenly. Crowley‘s sulfur-yellow eyes flare hotly.

Love Handles by Phoenix_Soar (E)

Crowley is a sweet thing and now that he is allowed, he wants to show Aziraphale just how lovely he finds his Angel.

As they try to adjust to the new turn their relationship takes after Armageddon, Crowley discovers that Aziraphale harbours certain self-conscious thoughts about his body. Well now, that just won’t do…

Just the Same by EmilyLouise (T)

So, the world didn't end and everything's pretty much the same, really. Apart from Aziraphale and Crowley are now in some sort of romantic relationship that neither of them knows how to navigate. But they don't need to talk about it or make it a thing. It's fine, really, apart from the times it isn't.

Things that were researched for this fic: Victorian and Georgian nightwear, the play 'Romeo and Juliet', molluscs, Aziraphale's conservation practices, the menu at the British Museum, the layout of the V&A, Italian renaissance gardens, Giant Sloths, plant varieties, the guardian crossword, compost, and the difference between BP and BC.

Snow Angel by Vagabond (T)

Human!AU. Aziraphale needs a date to his brother's Christmas party to avoid getting set up with someone. Anathema suggests Crowley, the office bad boy. They go, get snowed in, and have a heart-to-heart that ends in a Happy Christmas.

From a prompt: Human!AU: Aziraphale needs a date for family Christmas. He invites the office rebel/bad boy, Crowley.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #insecure aziraphale #adult omens #mod d

[spacenintendogs]

Okay okay

Here's a question you probably can answer lol

What songs are the gang listening to on repeat in your modern au :)

ksxjsodkwkkd i have had a post abt their music tastes sitting in my drafts for months so i will just share that!! my own music is kind of limited bc i just listen to the same stuff over & over (bc neurodivergent™️) so!! my apolocheese for this not being as super in depth for some of the gang vs others. i am also open to suggestions ;_; a couple of these were from me talking with a pal, mainly astrid & fishlegs (@despiteherself hiiiii!!!!)

hiccup: lots of indie stuff, leaning more towards indie folk!! he likes anything rlly with strings involved. he's a dragonboy horsegirl at heart & wants to imagine riding through the air with winds blowing through his hair & wistfully wishing he could have a different life. he does listen to indie pop, too. he liked glass animals before they were popular & wants everyone to know it. also loves woodkid.

astrid: she has 5 songs she listens to & they were just songs ppl recommended to her. she only goes out of her way to listen to music if she's at the gym & doesn't want to talk to anyone (if snotlout is there it does not work </3) tuffnut told her "you should listen to mac miller" & she picked a single song & just made it a song she listens to. every single other song she's ever heard is inflicted upon her when she's in the car, at work, etc & her friends have their stuff. she's content with that

fishlegs: everything & anything u could possibly think of. it's all put together on one giant playlist. u will hear 1940s jazz followed by georgian chants followed by sam smith followed by power metal followed by edm & it just keeps going. knows the words to every song he ever hears. any genre, any language!! collects vinyl, tapes, cds, YOU NAME IT!!! very passionate abt music!!!!!!

snotlout: 2000s & 2010s pop & edm, duchess by fergie is one of his fave albums ever. loves lady gaga. everything else is dad rock. 80s thrash metal, nu metal, & 90s grunge, mostly. he wants to be cool so so bad, he wants to be a rockstar. learns to play guitar & is annoying abt it (can shred p well tho). is the reason everyone in the friend group has at least ONE slipknot song on their individual playlists

ruffnut: grunge, hip hop, rap, & house music. lots of in this moment & garbage. big kendrick lamar fan. lots of late 80s to early 00s for rap & hip hop. she likes to groove & vibe, occasionally headbang. i think she'd love mary j blige too. i think she, outside of everything listed, has a soft spot for p!nk & listens to her when she's having a hard time (her & snotlout sometimes listen together). i think she'd also enjoy billie holiday on a quiet day & no one is around. (she is not embarrassed by it ay all, she just likes having things for herself)

tuffnut: grunge, 70s soft rock, hip hop, & rap!!! lots of overlap with ruff but obv there's also a lot of differences!! the 70s soft rock is the main outlier. he enjoys cruising around & being wistful as he listens to america, doobie brothers, seals & croft, etc. he puts pop country on his playlists as a joke but it ends up stuck in everyone's heads & smth they all jam to to have fun.

there is a massive group playlist (fishlegs is the one who puts it together but will add a song if suggested) & it is a cacophony of so much shit. they all have their tastes but by the time they're adults they all know each other's songs & sing/jam along & have a fucking blast, esp in the car or at the sanctuary. the playlist is always on shuffle & there is the chance for a rickroll. always

songs that tend to get repeated by the group are psychosocial (slipknot), custer (slipknot), anything by pitbull, fire water burn (bloodhound gang), bbc (jaboukie), anything by woodkid, somebody i used to know (gotye), & anything by they might be giants & other assorted meme songs they love torturing each other with. (they are the most obnoxious group alive)

#httyd #hiccup haddock #astrid hofferson #fishlegs ingerman #snotlout jorgenson #ruffnut thorston #tuffnut thorston #httyd modern au #rose answers #cloverofhope #thank u!!!!!! #dragons off the coast au #honestly i rlly struggled with the twins bc it's like... were the 'obvious' answers actually the answers???

[zephyruswrites536]

Right so imagine Jon decided to actually look into Jonah and Smirke and Peter(Mordechai) and Simon

(this is what my brain came up with- if this isn’t exactly how they’d talk don’t blame me it’s more like incorrect quotes where it’s vaguely around the character)

*Jonah walks past Jon’s office to just check for a second and sees a board with his name up on it*

Jonah: Hello, Jon?

Jon: Oh- Elias, sorry it’s a bit of a mess

Jonah: No worries! I just wanted to… see what you were up to, what’s this?

Jon: I see- well I thought the Lukas’, Magnus, Fairchild, Smirke, Albrecht, Dr. Fanshawe… they were all interesting- seen as it’s the beginning of the institute that they pop up in so, I thought it would be interesting to learn more about them.

Jonah: Alright, And?

Jon: Well, the people don’t have much history other than landmarks, like the institute, Moorland Manor, all of Smirke’s construction, the manor Albrecht’s nephew… if I remember correctly? Anyways, they aren’t historically that relevant- other than for the fears

Jonah: Right. Is that all, then?

Jon: Umm… Kind of?

Jonah: What does that mean.

Jon: Well, i looked more into the wording and manner and such of the statements they are in or wrote and.. their relationships are quite- queer, in both senses

Jonah: …Pardon?

Jon: You reading Barnabas’ statement to Jonah was- quite endearingly wrote- I understand most of them said “Dear Jonah” but the fact that he’s relying on Magnus and doesn’t just use Jonah for urgency is odd to say the least, let alone the fact Magnus then went to get his bones after he’d died…

Jonah: … I suppose-

Jon: And! You said he was on good terms with Mordechai Lukas? What good terms? It’s very vague- and suggests things- especially if what I’m imagining Bennet’s relationship with Magnus entails.

Jonah: … I- … Perhaps.

Jon: And! The fact Smirke wasn’t outright done with Magnus after Jonah betrayed him was something I don’t think most people would do… That implies things- Especially seeing Magnus, and the things he did.

Jonah: Fair enoug- what? What about Jonah Magnus implies things?

Jon: He- Well look at him- he’s in your office:..

Jonah: I-…

Jon: Anyways- Im starting to believe Jonah had a harem of his associates..

Jonah: . . . How.

Jon: Albrecht and Clara would not care that much- Neither would Jonathan be that upset- Smirke, Mordechai, and Barnabas I already explained… Oh- Simon! The Fairchild family isn’t much connected to the Vast except for him and his niece?

Jonah: I’m not understanding why you chose to-… do- this.

Jon: I divulge in my interests, the eye certainly would like to know…

Jonah: About that?

Jon: I’d think so- I forgot the Dark’s person which I’m sure is now Maxwell Rayner because of the body hopping the Dark’s avatar can do…

Jonah: I… Alright, Jon- I could get you a statement?

Jon: No, thank you- I think I’ll keep doing this.

Jonah: Did- Jon, I suggest that you stop focusing on Georgian Era Drama. *Intense glare*

Jon: Oh- O- K…

(If this doesn’t make sense… I like to think Jonah had a harem of his friends/colleagues/associates… a lot of people think this way too- I think… anywayssssssss)

#jonah magnus #Jonah Magnus harem #mordechai lukas #albrecht von closen #robert smirke #jonathan fanshawe #jonathan sims #tma headcanons #the magnus archives #200 year old dead gay men #200 year old eyeball bitch #love them though