#my grandpa died when I was young he'd know :(

[ereawrites]

Hey gurl✨ I’m in my wife era rn so maybe some Shisui and/or Tobirama husband/jealous husband hcs?🫣 I loooovee your writing and tbh your thoughts are my thoughts so no pressure😩 If you not feeling it feel free to ignore me babe🧚🏻‍♀️

YOU HAVE FED ME SO GOOD MISS GIRL! under the cut for length

shisui

this isn't too relevant but I have to include it. it's too cute. I definitely see shisui getting married pretty young, like early 20s. if he finds his person he's going for it. probably gets a lot of shit for it from his family, but he doesn't care

loooong honeymoon period. in part because they're still a young couple but also... shisui is just a really devoted husband. he loves the married life. insists on kissing her goodbye every morning, eating together every night, stuff like that

LOVES DECORATING THEIR HOUSE are u kidding me. let's say they get a kinda shitty place right after they get married, and put a tonne of work into doing it up. he gets so into painting, building the furniture, even starts up a little herb garden in their kitchen

finds so many ways to drop his wife into conversation lol. he's down bad even after the honeymoon period ends, so he wants to show her off. his FAV is when she swings by his workplace to bring him his 'forgotten' lunch. he turns around to the rest of the guys like. yeah. that's my WIFE. isn't she hot.

very much a believer in keeping the romance alive. he wants to keep making the effort with her until the day he dies. veryyyy good at remembering anniversaries, scheduling regular date nights, etc. always makes sure she has fresh flowers in the house

obviously it isn't all perfect though. especially while they're young (and presumably both still active, high-ranking shinobi) their schedules keep them apart a lot. and this hits shisui really hard tbh. he hates coming back to an empty home after a long mission, knowing he might not even see his wife before he has to leave again

work is probably where most of their arguments stem from, actually. I don't see it being a regular thing, but it's easy for resentment to build in those kinds of situations. shisui is very torn between his love for his village, and his love for his wife, and the fact he can't prioritise both. thankfully shisui is a good communicator so they make things work.

in terms of jealousy... I don't see it being a common thing. maybe before they get married he tends towards it a bit more, but once she's his wife, why would he worry? she's his entire world and he knows she loves him just as much

the only way I rly see him getting jealous at all is if they're going through a bit of a rough patch for the reasons mentioned above. maybe they haven't seen each other in weeks, and they both get back from a mission on the same day. and there's some kind of event/function that evening that they have to attend

so they barely have a chance to acknowledge each other, before they're pulled apart again by the crowd. so if shisui sees some random guy getting a little too close and flirty with her, he gets more annoyed than he'd like to admit

even then though.. he's not necessarily jealous as much as he is upset. like goddamn just let this poor man have his beloved wife to himself for a night. in this situation he's more likely to behave more rashly than usual, and he might just make some excuses and take her home lol. he gets a little bit pouty until she gives him some attention

overall, though, he's very chill. he trusts her implicitly, and expects the same from her. they need to have a very honest, respectful relationship if he's going to wife her up

god okay and in old age they're so cute together. I bet they have a bunch of kids (probably accidentally tbh lol) so then they end up with a whole squadron of grandchildren. he's that fun grandpa who sneaks them sweets when the parents aren't looking. all the grandbabies want to sleep over at their house. and they LOVE it.

to sum up: very good husband. very relaxed, communicates well, makes her feel loved every day. why did he have to die I want to throw myself off a bridge.

tobirama

first of all. good job to this woman. wrangling tobirama into marriage is not an easy job. he's so fucking ANNOYING. it probably takes him years to confess he even has feelings for her, let alone ask for her hand in marriage

but once he gets there. it's pretty cute. he doesn't really act very differently for the most part - he'd already decided his heart belonged to her well before they married, and wholly committed. so his behaviour doesn't change much, and there isn't much of a honeymoon period. sorry. he's like marriage is just a contractual agreement why would it change anything between us

he does make a few little indulgences though. he gets this smug little look every time he introduces her as his wife. he's actually just a lot more prone to 'showing her off' in general, and more likely to show some physical affection in public. for tobirama that's maybe a peck on the cheek lol. but it's progress

he's definitely a lot.... gentler?idk. with her once they're married as well. he makes an effort to be more patient and less snippy, and shows his appreciation for her in a lot of quiet little ways. for example, he'll be sure to leave work on time no matter how busy it is if he knows she's putting a lot of effort into dinner that night. or if she spends a second too long looking at a new dress in the store, he's buying it for her

on that note. tobirama is such a provider once they're married. he does have that traditional idea of providing for his wife. he'll probably ask her if she wants to become a stay at home wife tbh. if she says yes, he still expects her to get out in the community of course. he'd love if she did volunteering work, maybe at the hospital or with kids or something. but he's also equally happy for her to keep working. power couple vibes very strong

they have a nice, quiet little house away from the village where no one bothers then and they loooove it. especially tobirama, his wife and their home are his sanctuary. everyone else gtfo

other than that, not much is really different from before their marriage. they probably actually lead quite independent lives, to the point where people don't even know they're married until tobirama drops it into conversation a few months later. they're very private and lowkey.

unfortunately for her, tobirama's paranoia also persists. he's a bit delulu sometimes lol and she knows this going in. but it does inevitably cause some issues, especially if she's headstrong (which is definitely the type of woman he ends up with)

he trusts his wife more than anything. he would never doubt her for a second. but other men? the enemy. not to be trusted. they're all dogs. it drives him absolutely batshit crazy to watch them ogling her, or god forbid trying to flirt with her. which is actually kinda common bc they're such a lowkey couple, so people assume she's single

tobirama isn't one to make a scene per se, but this definitely leads to a few awkward situations in public, and she probably ends up embarrassed a few times. and there's 10000% arguments behind closed doors. I don't see either of them being good with this lol. he acts like she's his political enemy he's ridiculous

but because he loves her so much, and he actually really wants to put work into the longevity of their marriage, he'll come around. he's a lot softer and more willing to compromise when it comes to her. but she can't point that out because he's mortified

over time, he chills out a lot more. they're one of those couples that just get stronger and better with time. they grow a lot together, and although they probably continue to disagree a lot throughout their marriage, it's always in a way that leaves their relationship stronger. and he only gets softer for her. people (hashirama) even start to point out how devoted he is and he can't even deny it. cute

overall a kind of difficult husband, because he is an exceptionally difficult man, but my god he loves her so much. he would do anything to make her happy.

#this was so much fun #I HAVE TWO RING FINGERS MY BEAUTIFUL BOYS #naruto #naruto x reader #shisui #shisui uchiha #shisui x reader #shisui uchiha x reader #tobirama #tobirama senju #tobirama x reader #tobirama senju x reader

[cactikiki]

Name your headcsnons about our boi Kieran (Apologies if you have done this already)

I HAVE SO MANY. this is probably a fraction of my headcanons honestly but I don't remember them all lmao. HERE WE GO!

Kieran

• he has anxiety, the tism™️ and BPD (twinning 🤝)

• stims include tapping his foot, rocking his hand to the side of him, bouncing his leg (or foot) when sat down. He also has vocal stims, which usually come from tunes or phrases he hears; wowzers is one of them!

• playing with his hair is a big stim. He ruffles it, pulls at it, twirls it, strokes it, runs his hands through it, etc. He likes how his hair feels and that's why so many of his stims involve it :]

• he often mutters to himself, whispering his inner thought processes

• his parents left years ago. He has no idea where they went, only knows that they didn't care about their kids. When he was young he was told they'd died, to 'protect' him. You'd think Carmine and the grandparents would've learned from that incident during teal mask, huh? (This is also the case for villain!Kieran, but normal Kieran would likely avoid ever meeting his parents)

• he is terrible at video games. Still, he likes playing them on occasion; definitely more of a 'cosy game' enjoyer with a biiiiit of threat. He'd play Minecraft, Stardew Valley and Terraria for example

• he's short right now– shortest of the friend group– but he'll eventually be pretty tall when he's 17. Shorter than Nemona and Arven at that age, but still tall enough that it shocks people at first

• chocolate wafer bars are his comfort food!

• his grandma taught him how to cook, while his grandpa taught him how to make tea and to knit.

• despite the above, he's not very good at cooking... he burns things. A lot.

• during his emoism™️ he would kick things, punch things, slam things etc and every time, he'd act cool about it until he was out of the room. Then he lets out a little owie or a hiss of pain </3

• started cursing more the moment his hair was tied up. He was convinced it made him sound more mature. Even after everything's said and done and he's doing better mentally + friends with Florian and co again, he can't quite shake the habit and curses every so often in conversation

• resting bitch face + talks in a 'moody' quiet voice a lot, leading people to think he's annoyed when he's actually feeling neutral or even happy

• if cat person vs dog person exists in the Pokémon universe, Kieran’s a cat person. I guess this means he likes Pokémon that are more like cats, whether they actually are cats or not

• he likes flowers a lot. That's it that's the headcanon. I think he'd like sketching them and studying them, maybe his original pokémon team and the open fields of Kitakami made him interested? And, funnily enough, his crush's name means blossoming, flourishing flower....

• he still stays up late and sometimes doesn't sleep at all, but this is much rarer now. Normally it's because he has a good(-ish) reason not to sleep– at least, that's what he says.

• applin was his first Pokémon!

• when he traded Florian an applin, Florian traded back a shiny applin. He actually started this search right after he left Kitakami, and found it a week before heading to Blueberry; he was prepared and wanted a good way to apologise. Of course, he didn't expect what'd happened with Kieran.

• Florian has a shiny furret. It was on his team when he fought Kieran and won; after Kieran boxed his own for being too weak. Ouch.... (based on the fact I had furret as one of my last pokemon when his ace went down </3) this is technically a Florian hc but!! It made Kieran rethink a little, later on. It was also extremely devastating at the time

• Kieran naturally gets really good at battling. He could 100% be part of the elite four or even the champion when he's older, even with him slowing down and doing battles just for fun

• Kieran doesn't always enjoy physical touch, but he's also pretty touch starved. He likes hugs and anything gentle, and usually only from people he knows well

Feel free to ask for more headcanons about him or candyapple etc in future, I love doing these posts!

#asks #arianimates #Kieran #rival kieran #trainer kieran #pokemon #pokemon kieran #pokemon scarlet and violet #headcanons #pokemon florian #trainer florian #candyappleshipping #(hinted #florkie #kieflo

[cod-dump]

Hope your head has stopped trying to commit a crime, so pardon my bothering.

This is the Simon Riley has a grave anon here with more concerning it! (because for some reason it randomly popped back into my head and I must share)

There's a new recruit about to be sent to train on the 141's base, but is delayed due to personal hardship. His grandfather had just passed, and he needed some time. This recruit never had a father, and his grandpa just filled that role so easily, so losing him was hard. Turns out, this recruit is also from Manchester and his grandpa is buried next to one "Lieutenant Simon Riley"

Recruit gives a brief salute to the "deceased" lieutenant as he asks him to be a good neighbor to Pop.

Once he's back on base, he's heard stories about "Ghost" already, even before being on base, when he first joined and was told where he would be sent to. He's nervous about meeting him, especially given he's a week late and doesn't know anything else. And it's during his first training session with his new lieutenant that really freaks him out. Ghost is in a sour mood, and snaps at this recruit after not recognizing him.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Private Tyler Maverick, sir." Ghost eyes him suspiciously.

"You're a week late. Better be for a damn good reason." Ghost clearly was not present at the base to be informed of why Maverick was late.

"Had to bury someone, sir." There's an awkward pause as Ghost stares at him. Ghost just grunts in response before turning away and pretty much ignoring Maverick the rest of the day. Later that day, around dinner, Maverick is told to meet the lieutenant in his office. When he enters, Ghost is leaning against the desk, arms crossed and given no hint of what he wanted Maverick for.

"You asked for me, sir?"

"Wanted to apologize for my comment earlier. I had only just rolled in the night before and didn't get briefed on the new recruits very long." Maverick shakes his head.

"Nothing I can't handle, sir. If I can't handle a comment about burying a family member, then I shouldn't be here." Ghost narrows his eyes in questioning.

"Doesn't make it right, though. Burying family is a nasty business." Maverick shrugs, not really wanting to go into the whole thing, but it seems Ghost has other plans.

"How you holding up? I hear you only had a couple days before being shipped out."

"Fine, honest. Been kept busy the whole time so I guess it hasn't really hit yet." Maverick nervously rubs at his neck, starting to see where Ghost was going with this.

"Some of us move on faster than others, especially depending on who they lost." Ghost comments, and Maverick wants to curl in on himself. He'd heard stories about Ghost's uncanny ability to read someone with pinpoint accuracy, but he never thought he'd be the subject of it.

"Lost my grandpa. He was more like my dad, never got to meet the real deal, ya know? Died when I was young. For a really long time, Pop was all I had. Mom worked all the time and I was an only child. Now I'm here, and he's buried and it all just feels so surreal but in a bad way. I don't know, but I'm okay, sir, honest." Maverick rambles, tripping over his words as he tries to rush up in case his little rant had upset Ghost.

"Yeah and I'm the bloody Queen of England. But, fine, I'll go with it for now. Tell me when it gets to be a problem, though. Can't have my soldiers compromised." Maverick nods.

"Yessir. And, if you don't mind, I never got to properly meet you, sir, so I never caught your name."

"Simon Riley." Maverick pales almost immediately as recognition of the name dawns on him.

"You all right?"

"It's got to be a coincidence." He whispers and Ghost cocks his head at him.

"What is?"

"There's a lieutenant buried next to Pop with the same name as you."

"Manchester?"

"Yessir. Hell, I even asked him to be a good neighbor." Maverick mutters the second sentence, hoping Ghost wouldn't hear it.

"S'alright, I'm a pretty quiet neighbor." If it weren't for the deadpan way Ghost had said it, or the absurdity of the situation, Maverick would have passed out right there.

"I-I'm sorry?" He asks between nervous laughs.

"Name Ghost comes from somewhere, ya know. Dismissed." Maverick has never left a room so fast in his life.

He does eventually get an answer, and loads more questions, about the grave from Gaz.

"Oh yeah, it's a long story. Don't worry, Private Bones is also a good neighbor, even if he is an alcoholic."

Maverick has officially decided to never question his superior officers ever again, and he ends up being the one recruit they can fuck around in front of because he'll just blink at them before going back to whatever he was doing and never mention anything again.

He definitely makes sure to tell Pop how interesting his neighbor is every chance he gets.

(this turned into an actual something, I'm sorry, didn't mean that to happen but it is what it is)

Adding Tyler Maverick to the list of recruits that Ghost has adopted unintentionally.

I love this!!

And I'm feeling much better than what I was this morning, thank you <3

#call of duty #cod mwii #modern warfare ii #simon ghost riley #ask #thanks for the ask <3 #ficlet

[randomthefox]

Much as I prefer the Bardock special over Dragon Ball Minus and would prefer to stand by it, one thing I ALWAYS even as a kid thought was stupid was the way the animated series presented this idea. That Kakarot was sent to earth as a NAKED BABY who probably was less than half a year old at best. The kid probably wasn't even weened off of milk yet, and they were sending him off to wipe out planets?

What the FUCK was he supposed to do!? He had a power level of 2 for crying out loud. That's less than the farmer with a shot gun had. And he was just chucked onto this planet naked and sucking his thumb with no cognition of ANYTHING? Were they just banking on him happening to see a full moon before he died of lack of sustenance and hope that he'd wipe out the planet in a mindless great ape state? It literally makes no sense and the way it was portrayed always made it seem like if Grandpa Gohan hadn't found him, baby Kakarot would have instantly died.

I HATE Dragon Ball Minus, but Saiyan society hanging onto Kakarot until he was at least a toddler (three years old, somewhere around as old as Pan was when she appears in the end of the manga) and sending him off while decked out in armor makes WAY more sense. In the Super Broly movie they even add a line in the dub saying that Kakarot's mom thinks he's STILL too young for them to consider sending him off world even then. I really like this nursing capsule idea btw, it makes a lot of sense that Saiyans would chuck their babies into a machine that does all the heavy lifting to keeping them alive and nourished, considering even female saiyans would be too busy going off conquering other worlds to waste time nursing babies.

And it matches much closer to what we were originally told when meeting Raditz in the manga. What would be the point of Goku hitting his head and getting amnesia if he was too young to even remember anything about himself being a saiyan or planet Vegeta or his mission to exterminate life on earth (something which Raditz obviously expects him to know about)? There's no way baby infant Kakarot as portrayed in the Bardock special is aware of anything beyond his immediate surroundings, let alone has ANY idea of why he'd have been sent to earth. But the way it's depicted in Dragon Ball Minus, you honestly WOULD expect three year old Kakarot to know exactly what's his deal is.

And this matches with the story Roshi told about what Grandpa Gohan's experience of raising Goku was like before he got amnesia too. Kakarot wasn't a helpless naked infant in the woods. He came out the pod ready to throw hands, and the only reason Gohan managed to survive the encounter is because he was a martial artist.

Basically while I prefer to stand by the STORY of the Bardock animated movie, I vastly prefer the AESTHETICS of Dragon Ball Minus and the way it was adapted into animation by the Dragon Ball Super Broly movie. The portrayal of saiyan society, class hierarchy, social customs, and armored toddler Kakarot just all make way way more sense. Kakarot being old enough to be able to walk and probably even talk makes way more sense, him knowing he's a saiyan and the reason he was sent to earth makes way more sense, the way he'd be old enough to actually be the hellion he's described as being by Roshi makes way more sense with him being that age.

But the STORY of the Bardock special is soooo much better than Minus/Super's portrayal of Kakarot being sent off for his own safety by his loving parents. Gag me with a spoon. The original animated Bardock movie's portrayal of Bardock not giving a shit about his son because he was weak, and Kakarot being sent off to conquer earth because that's what saiyans do even as infants is just so much better a narrative AND fits closer with what we're told about Kakarot's backstory by Raditz.

Basically my preference would be to think of a combination of the two. The aesthetics of Dragon Ball Minus/Dragon Ball Super Broly and how it DEPICTS the characters, but with the STORY of the Bardock animated movie.

Seriously Kakarot being sent off as a naked infant makes literally no sense and it never has. Why the fuck would Raditz expect Kakarot to recognize him and be aware of his saiyan mission upon meeting him if he had been sent off as a baby fresh off the teet?

Seriously, Kakarot and Raditz clearly MUST have interacted with each other before Kakarot was sent to earth. Otherwise this dialog makes no sense whatsoever. Frankly the story of the Bardock special AND Dragon Ball Minus both don't make any sense as depicted, I have no choice BUT to stitch them together in my mind. To imagine a version of the NARRATIVE the Bardock special presented, that LOOKS like how Dragon Ball Minus/DBSBroly looks, and where that narrative takes place when Kakarot was at least three year old and thus has that much time to experience life as a saiyan with his original family members. Where Kakarot was raised and reared as a saiyan and knew what life as a saiyan was like, and was sent off as a low class trash child to some piddly little backwater planet that was beneath anyones concern. And that he happened to be sent away around the same time that Freeza decided to pop Planet Vegeta. That little Kakarot went to earth ready to fulfill his purpose by exterminating the entire planet but was only domesticated by Gohan happening to be able to subdue the child, and by getting a severe head injury that gave him amnesia.

That's really the only way anything could even make sense. Gotta read between the lines and find the truth that exists somewhere in the middle of the two backstories we'd had about Goku and the fate of Planet Vegeta.

#dragon ball #dragon ball z #dragon ball minus #son goku #goku #kakarot #raditz #bardock

[wiihtigo]

i want to know everything about spider

spiderrr my lovely amy

ehhh umm ehhhuuummm

well heres her for anyone who didnt know- spider is caseys mama ^_^

well lets seee she grew up on a reserve and was raised by her dad alone since her mom died when she was pretty young. shes an only child. she was a good kid. a normal kid. her parents treated her well but her dad was and is a very very quiet gruff sort of guy. emotionally distant. (like every father ever just kidding just kidding just ki) so he didnt know how to support her or comfort her when she was grieving her mother and showing signs of crazy suicidal depression. he loves her dearly, but he doesnt know how to communicate that or connect with her or show her that he cares (sound familiar yet)

when she got pregnant they got into a huge fight over it and she left home to move to the city to start working to support herself, by herself

she'd always wanted to move to the city eventually anyways because she'd need to be in a city to go to college and get a job that wasnt the local gas station or supermarket

but college wasnt on the table because she needed to work fulltime to support herself and a bebe. (resentment meter towards this creature that came out of her growing)

eventually she and her dad start talking again though, after caseys maybe a year or 2 old. and then its like My dad and the grandchild he didnt want. (hes on the ground playing with her) he loves this thing. he would help out with casey sometimes when he'd come into town when she was a baby but its a bit of a trip to get there for him and the trips out are more infrequent by the time caseys old enough to start forming attachments to relatives that arent her mom, so by the time shes an adult its just yearly happy birthday and merry christmas texts from grandpa for her

ermm ermm ummm aacckk WELL i actualy have a little google document i wrote a while ago (its not long) abt when casey moved out from spiders perspective bcuz i wanted to test dialogue between them (even though it ended up caseys not even there for very long) if youre interested in spider... you can read it here if you want. sharing anything ive written so publicly fills me with deadly toxins if you thinkg "wow this sucks"YOU DOTN HAVE TO TELL ME THAT

#asks #what else do i say about spider...shes an alcoholic.. you cant see it very well on the drawing but she has a tattoo of a spider web on her #inner ankle #she loves casey. shes proud of her. she thinks shes stupid for trying the same thing she did in her youth. hates her a little. no she doesn #shes actually a bit shy and socially awkward. complete opposite of her outgoing kid

[scarisd3ad]

To the end and back [daryl Dixon x reader]

Chapter two - right where you left me

Masterlist

Taglist

Summary - after the world ended you were sure you’d never find love again but a certain archer catches your eyes and changes the entire trajectory of your life.

Warnings - regular twd warnings

Previous >> next

Season 1 ep 3

'Tell it to the frog'

Edited

We all sat around waiting for the others to return from their supply run to Atlanta. Glenn, Merle, Morales, Andrea, Jacqui, and T dog had gone on a supply run while Daryl had gone hunting. I sat talking to Lori and Shane as Lori cut Carl's hair and Shane cleaned his rifle. Carl isn't pleased about his haircut. He fidgets around and has a pout on his face the entire time. "Baby, the more you fidget, the longer it takes, so don't, okay?" Lori says as she combs out her son's hair, snipping little pieces at once. "I'm trying." Carl whines. "Well, try harder." Lori says, trying to focus on Carl's haircut. I laugh. Carl must've not had a haircut since before the outbreak because he was beginning to grow a little mullet. "If you think this is bad, wait till you start shaving. That stings." Shane laughs. "That day comes; you'll be wishing for one of your mama's haircuts." Shane says as he inspects his gun.

"I'll believe that when I see it" Carl says, making Shane and I chuckle. "I'll tell you what... you just get through this with some manly dignity, and tomorrow, I'll teach you something special. I will teach you to catch frogs." Shane says as he's taking apart his rifle. Lori smiles as she continues to cut Carl's hair. "I've caught a frog before," Carl states as he turns a bit, causing Lori to readjust his head. "I said frogs' plural, and it is an art, my friend. It is not to be taken lightly. There are ways and means. Few people know about it." I remember catching frogs on my grandfather's farm as a young kid. I'd take them back to my grandma and grandpa. Grandpa would be proud, but Grandma was always so disgusted by them. She hated that Grandpa would cook them up and eat them. "I'm willing to share my secrets."

Carl looks back at his mom, brows furrowed. "Oh, I'm a girl. You talk to him." Lori says, turning her son's head back towards Shane. "I used to catch frogs," I say. Carl turns his head towards me, brows furrowed again. "You did?" He asks. Lori turns Carls head straight again. "Yep, on my grandpa's farm when I was your age with my brother." Shane raised his eyebrows. "Brother? you have a brother?" Carl asks. I nod. "had a brother," I correct. Matthew, my little brother, was 2 years younger than me; he had dirty blonde hair as he got older and bright blue eyes that will be ingrained in my memories forever. He died 1 day into the outbreak. I miss him every day I go on without him. I wish he'd met these people because he'd love them. "My grandpa used to cook them up on Sunday nights."

"Why'd he cook them?" Carl asks, face contorting in confusion. "You never eat frog legs?" Shane asks. "Eww!" Carl says, his face contorting from confusion into a disgusted look. "No, yum!" Shane corrects as he leans back in his chair a bit. "No, he's right. Eww," Lori contradicts, "they're actually really good, Carl" I say as I fold my arms over my chest. Every day I wake up, I find these people becoming more and more like family than my actual one ever was to me. "You see, she knows what I'm talkin' bout!" Shane says, pointing towards me, which makes me laugh. Lori scrunches up her face in disgust. "When we get down to that last can of beans, you're gonna be loving those frog legs, lady. I can see it now 'Shane, do you think I could have a second helping, please? Ju..just one?'" Shane says, dropping his country accent to imitate Lori. "Yeah, I doubt that." Lori says with an eye roll as both she and Shane laugh.

I turn to see Amy; she's worried about her sister. She should've been back hours ago, but they aren't yet. Dale is standing on top of his RV with a pair of binoculars, just looking out at the road. "I'm..I'm gonna go check in on Amy," I say as I stand up.

Amy is sitting in a chair under the awning of Dale's RV. "You alright, Am's?" I ask she nods slowly. Her arms are crossed over her chest as she mumbles, "They should've been back hours ago." "I'm sure they'r-" I'm cut off by a car alarm blaring. Amy jumps up, and so does Shane. "Talk to me, Dale!" He shouts as he runs towards the RV.

"I can't tell yet," Dale says before looking through his binoculars. "Is it them? Are they back?" Amy asks. "I'll be damned," Dale mutters as we watch a bright red car drive towards our camp. That car is shouting up a storm, probably drawing every Walker in at least a mile's radius towards us. "What is it?" Amy asks.

"A stolen car is my guess."

Lori has her arm wrapped around Carl and one above her eyes, shielding her eyes from the sun. The car pulls in, and we all run towards it. Out comes Glenn. Such a dumbass. I roll my eyes because that boy always seems to do the stupidest goddamn shit. "Holy crap. Turn that damn thing off!" Dale shouts. "I don't know how!" Glenn says with a shrug and the biggest goddamn smile on his face. I run over, pulling him into a hug. I can't lie and say I haven't been a big bag of nerves since he left because I have, but hugging him always makes me feel better.

"Pop the hood, please. Pop the damn hood, please." Shane says, patting the hood of the car harshly.

I let go of Glenn as Amy runs up. "My sister, Andrea-" she's cut off by Shane shouting, "Pop the damn hood!" and him banging on the hood a bit harder. Shane is very upfront with his role as a leader. He's strong, demanding, and the type of person everyone tends to hate, but I've found it easy to get along with him most of the time. He can be an asshole sometimes, but ever since he promised to keep me safe, I've found it easy to understand why he does what he does.

"What, okay, okay. Yeah, yeah, yeah," Glenn says, retreating back into his car. Amy is still right at Glenn's side, asking about Andrea. Glenn pops the hood, and Shane gets to work on the vehicle. "Is she okay? Is she all right?" Amy asks, demanding an answer from Glenn as he gets out of the car again. "She's okay! She's okay!" Glenn shouts. Amy's brows furrow, but she does let out a tiny sigh of relief as she asks, "Is she coming back?"

"Yes!"

Amy goes right back into panic mode. "Why isn't she with you? Where is she? Is She okay?" Amy continues to interrogate Glenn, "Yes! Fine. Everybody is." Almost everyone lets out a relieved sigh. We had been knotted up in webs of anxiety all day. "Well, Merle, not so much." No one really worried much about Merle. He could be loud, never listened to anyone, and was obnoxious at times, especially when he was mad. It'd be good to get rid of him. "Are you crazy, drivin' this wailin' bastard up here? You tryin' to draw every Walker for miles?" Shane scolds Glenn as he stands with both hands set on the car's hood. The car was a stupid thing to do; it could've drawn every person and Walker to our location. "I think we're okay," Dale says quietly. "You call being stupid, okay?" Shane argues. Glenn finally turns to me, wrapping his arms around me. "M'glad you're alright," I whisper as I wrap my arms around his neck. he sighs as I lean my head onto his shoulder.

"Well, the alarm was echoing all over these hills. Hard to pinpoint the source," Dale explains. Shane turns around with both hands on his hips, giving Dale a look that tells everyone, 'Don't argue with me.' "I'm not arguing. I'm just saying," Dale says with a shrug. It's almost like Dale can read everyone's expressions because I don't think most people could read Shane like that. "It wouldn't hurt you to think things through a little more carefully next time, would it?" Dale says, raising his voice a bit at Glenn. Glenn lets go of me and says, "Sorry. Got a cool car." with a shrug. I roll my eyes. It's weird, we're going through the zombie fucking apocalypse, and Glenn can still be the sweetest, funniest, happiest man I've ever met.

A large moving truck pulls in next, making everyone focus on it instead of Glenn. Morales steps out first and then Andrea from the back. "Amy," Andrea says as she runs towards her sister. "Andrea!" Amy cries out. The sisters embrace tightly.

"You scared the shit out of me." Amy cries with a little laugh. Morales's kids are running towards their father. "Papi! Daddy!" They cry out as they embrace their father. We all watch the lovely moments between family members. It hurts a bit to us members of the group who've lost family members along the way, but it's nice to see how happy they get. The closest person to a family I have in the group is Glenn. I get so excited to see his face after he goes out in the city. We never know if it's the last time we'll see each other; one day, they could go out and never return. Glenn wraps his arm around my shoulder and whispers, "Got you something while we were out; I'll show you later."

"You are a welcome sight. I thought we had lost you folks for sure." Dale says as he embraces Morales. "How'd y'all get out of there anyway?" Shane speaks up. Morales looks back to the moving truck before saying, "New guy...he got us out." I furrow my brows. I was pretty sure we were the last people alive; we hadn't seen other people since the early days of the outbreak. "New guy?" Shane asks with his brows furrowed together.

"Yeah, crazy Vato just got into town." Morales says as he turns to the moving truck and hollers, "Hey, helicopter boy! Come say hello!"

Out comes a slim brunette man in a police uniform. He's got both hands on his hips as he walks up a few inches. "The guys a cop like you." Morales tells Shane. The guy looks out of breath as he looks over the group. He points towards Lori and Carl before whispering, "Oh my god." And speed walking towards Carl, who's now running towards him. "Dad! Dad!" Carl cries out. The guy kneels down as Carl runs into his arms. Lori is just behind him. Both boys fall to the ground hugging. I'm just now realizing this is Lori's husband, the dead husband Shane had told me about. Lori wasn't one to talk much about him, but Shane and Carl talked about him a lot, mostly reminiscing. Shane talked about how they worked together in the force, and he died at the beginning of the outbreak, but that man wasn't dead. He picks up his son and walks towards Lori. Lori hugs him. She's in disbelief. Then Lori looked up at Shane with the most betrayed facial expression I'd ever seen. I learned from Lori that her husband got shot and went into a coma. Shane told her he died in the hospital. But obviously, he's not dead. He's right here in front of us. I understand that it could've been an accident; he might've not even heard a heartbeat, but the look on Shane's face tells me otherwise.

-

We're all sat around the fire, listening to who I've learned to be Rick tells us how he miraculously woke up and survived. I've got my head in Glenn's lap, and his left arm wrapped around me. "Disoriented. I guess that comes closest. Disoriented." Carl is laying in Rick's lap, and Lori sits beside them. "Fear, confusion..all those things, but..disoriented comes closest." Thunder is coming from a few miles away, which doesn't worry me much; it just frightens me every time it strikes. "Words can be meager things. Sometimes they fall short," Dale says. Glenn gently caresses my arm with his thumb as Rick says, "I felt like I'd been ripped out of my life and put somewhere else." the crickets provide an excellent background for the silence of the night, so it's not just the dark and the loud groans, and growls of walkers in the city. "For a while, I thought I was trapped in some coma dream, something I might not wake up from ever."

"Mom said you died." Carl says quietly. Lori looks at her husband worriedly, like he'd be mad if she told their son that, but he doesn't seem upset. "She had every reason to believe that. Don't you ever doubt it." Rick places his hand on his son's cheek, caressing it lightly, while Lori's hand gently pushes her son's hair back. "When things started to get really bad, they told me at the hospital that they were gonna medevac you and the other patients to Atlanta..." she pauses for a second before continuing, "...and it never happened."

"Well, I'm not surprised after Atlanta fell." Lori nods, whispering "yeah"

"And from the look of that hospital, it got overrun." Rick adds the last time I was in the city, it was absolutely overrun; no one was alive, and the entire place had been taken over by the dead. "Yeah, looks don't deceive. I barely got them out...you know?" Rick looks at Shane, making direct eye contact. "I can't tell you how grateful I am to you, Shane...I can't begin to express it." Shane doesn't answer. He stares at Rick, unable to answer; he has a guilty look on his face that says more than words could ever. "There go those words falling short again..paltry things. " Dale says with a chuckle. I look up at Glenn, who's staring ahead at the fire, zoned out, but when he notices I'm looking up at him, he grins.

Before all this, I was 2 years into med school, living in a shitty apartment with 2 shitty roommates. I wanted to be a doctor. That was dream ever since I was little. Little me was wise to choose that because now the 2 years of training I did does work out. After all, now I'm the group's "doctor." my knowledge doesn't help with complex issues because I had only been in med school for 2 years, but I'm a pro with the basics.

Lori is cuddled up in Rick's arms but staring at Shane with a terrified look. Shane looks mad, maybe jealous even. Ed stands up, throwing another log into the fire.

"Hey, Ed, you want to rethink that log?" We all look at Ed like we're in elementary school again, looking at him like, 'Ooo, you're in trouble'. "It's cold, man." Ed says with his head leaned back before it falls forward a bit. "The cold doesn't change the rules, does it?" Shane says, looking over at Ed. "Keep our fires low, just embers, so we can't be seen from a distance, right?" Shane says just to explain to Rick since his eyebrows are furrowed. "I said it's cold. You should mind your own business for once." Ed argues. It wasn't a good thing to argue with Shane; he's our leader, he makes the rules, and he tells people what to do. If he says no, it means no, that's it. Shane pushes himself to his feet, walks over, and grabs something. I can't really tell what it is. He walks behind Ed, patting him on the back. "Hey, Ed....are sure you want to have this conversation, man?" He asks softly, "Go on. Pull the damn thing out. Go on!"

Carol Ed's wife sits quietly, almost embarrassed of her husband's actions. Finally, she seems fed up with her husband's childish behavior, so she stands up, grabs the log out of the fire, and throws it on the ground. "Christ," Shane mutters. Carol isn't one to really stand up to her husband; I can tell because the look on Ed's face is terrifying. She then walks back around and sits beside her daughter as Shane stomps on the log until it's no longer on fire. Shane kneels down close to Sophia and Carol. "Hey, Carol, Sophia, how are y'all this evening?" He asks.

"Fine. We're just fine." Ed is staring daggers over at his wife. "I'm sorry about the fire." Carol says quietly, almost like she doesn't want her husband to hear. "No, no, no. No apology needed. Y'all have a good night, okay?"

"Thank you," Carol whispers. Sophia looks down at her feet the entire time like she's scared of what her father will do later. "I appreciate the cooperation." Shane stands up and walks back over to his spot. "Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon? He won't be happy to hear his brother was left behind." Dale says. Daryl wouldn't be happy; he and his brother were the only family they had left. Even though they didn't get along well, he'd be upset.

"I'll tell him. I dropped the key. It's on me." T-dog says quietly. "I cuffed him. That makes it mine." Rick replies. "Guys, it's not a competition. I don't mean to bring race into this, but it might sound better coming from a white guy." Glenn says, his arm still wrapped around me, drawing small circles on my upper arm. The Dixon brothers...well, at least Merle was very racist, and I wouldn't be surprised if Daryl was, too. "I did what I did. Hell, if I'm gonna hide from him."

"We could lie." Amy says from her spot curled up in her sister's arms. "Or tell the truth," Andrea sighs. She's right. We needed to tell Daryl the truth; if we didn't, and he found out we lied, our consequences would be worse. "Merle was out of control. Something had to be done, or he'd have gotten us killed." She was right again; Merle was out of control, and there was never a way to calm him or tell him what to do. Even if Shane tried, he couldn't. Merle was his own boss, and God bless the person who tried to boss him around. "Your husband did what was necessary, and if Merle got left behind, it is nobody's fault but Merle's." Andrea says to Lori. "And that's what we tell Daryl?" Dale asks. I don't think Daryl would just take that as an answer for why we left his brother behind, even if he knew how stubborn his brother was. "I don't see a rational discussion to be had from that, do you?" Dale asks, shaking his head. Dale was a wise older man, like our group's grandfather or even father. He was rational and knew how to survive. People like Shane say that this world wasn't made for Dale, but we'd be dead without Dale. "Word to the wise...we're gonna have our hands full when he gets back from his hunt." We would. Daryl would probably throw a fit and try to hurt someone. He was similar to his brother in expressing his anger through yelling and fists.

"I was scared, and I ran. I'm not ashamed of it," T-dog says with his arms crossed over his chest. "We were all scared. We all ran. What's your point?" Andrea asks. "I stopped long enough to chain that door. Staircase is narrow. Maybe half a dozen geeks can squeeze against it at any one time. It's not enough to break through that..not that chain, not that padlock. My point...my point is..dixon's alive, and he's still up there, handcuffed on that roof. That's on us." T-dog says before getting up and walking away.

"Hey, can I stay in your tent tonight to stay warm?" Glenn whispers just loud enough for me to hear. I nod as I look up at him. I stand up, pushing myself off the ground, and hold my hand out for him to grab. I pull him up, and he wraps his arm around my shoulder. "We're gonna head to bed, goodnight," Glenn says.

We walk towards my tent, his arm still wrapped around me.

He unwraps his arm around me so I can unzip my tent. He gets in first and sits crisscrossed on the far-left side. I get in and then zip the tent back up. I lay down, wrapping myself in blankets, trying to avoid freezing to death. "Do you think this will ever like end?" Glenn asks. I shrug. "I hope so," I whisper. He lays down beside me, propping his head up with his arm. "If this does end, we should get an apartment together." He nods in agreement even though we both know it'll probably never happen. It's so weird. I've only known Glenn for about 2 months, but he knows me better than anyone. It could be because we have so much time to talk. "Where were you before you came here?" I ask in a whispered tone. He lets out a small sigh before saying, "Macon...ended up getting stuck in a pharmacy in Macon with a group of people. they went to some motel, but I ended up leaving to go to Atlanta." I nod before he adds, "They ended up giving me a walkie to keep in touch, but it hasn't worked since I left," he whispers as he lets his head fall onto the pillow. "Do you still have it?" I ask. He nods before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a small walkie-talkie with stickers on it. I smile as I ask, "Why is it covered in stickers?" with a laugh. "A little girl in the group gave it to me," he says with a small smile. I let out a small sigh as we sat in a comfortable silence together for a few seconds.

"You should go to bed, Glenn," I mumble as I scoot closer to him. "Mhm, I will." I cuddle up next to him, wrapping my arms around his torso. "Don't stay up too late now," I mumble into his chest. "I won't," he says. I can tell he's smiling by the way he says it.

-

I wake up to the sound of birds chirping and the sunlight peering through the sheer fabric of my tent. Glenn's no longer in the tent. He must've gotten up earlier. I push myself off the ground and crawl over to unzip my tent. I get out, zip it back up, and walk over to where the rest of the group is hanging out.

Carol is leaving some clothes out to dry when I walk up to her. "Morning," I say. She gives me a weak smile but replies, "Morning." She washed Rick's clothes. She's a sweet lady, definitely didn't deserve her asshat of a husband.

Glenn is standing, staring at his red car, arms crossed over his chest. Dale and some other guys are striping it clean of gas and anything they need from the vehicle. Glenn's pissed. I walk over to him. "Look at 'em. Vultures." He grumbles. I give him a weak smile as he says, "Yeah, go on, strip it clean." sarcastically. "Generators need every drop of fuel they can get. I have no power without it. Sorry, Glenn," Dale says, patting Glenn's back as he walks by with a gas can. "Thought I'd get to drive it at least a few more days." Glenn mumbles. He's very obviously upset. I wrap an arm around him. "We'll get you another one like it, Glenn," I say, trying to comfort him. He gives me a weak smile. "yeah, maybe."

Glenn and I walk away from the car "are..are you guys gonna try and rescue Merle?" I ask. Glenn shrugs. "It's up to Shane," Glenn says. I nod. I wanted to go. I hadn't been out into the city since the beginning of the outbreak. I wanted to go on a supply run like Andrea got to, but I was never fucking allowed to! I could handle myself. I survived long enough to get here, but Shane was always against it. He always had some lame ass excuse to not let me go. I understood he just wanted to protect me, but if I didn't get experience fighting walkers, I would die if some came stumbling onto our camp.

Shane drives up in his jeep with water. "Waters here, y'all. Just a reminder to boil before use," he says as he exits. A couple of us walk over to Shane's car and help him carry the water jugs. I grab one, but Shane immediately takes it from me. I hate how he sees me as a child incapable of doing things alone.

A blood-curdling scream breaks our attention from the water. "MOM!" Carl screams. Rick and Lori immediately start sprinting towards their son's cries. "DAD!" Carl screams again. "Baby!" Lori yells. Shane is now also flying towards the screams of two children with a shotgun. "MAMA! MOMMY!"

"CARL!" Lori cries out as she's trying to find her child. "CARL! Baby!" Both Sophia and Carl come running out of the forest. Lori falls to her knees with Carl in her arms, examining him, ensuring there are no bites or scratches. "Nothing bit you, nothing scratched you?" Lori says, hugging at her child.

Most of us are also running that way with guns and weapons. "No, I'm okay," Carl says. Both children seem shaken up by whatever they had seen in the woods.

We finally find the Walker that the kids saw. It's in a small clearing surrounded by trees feasting on a dead deer. I scrunch up my nose in disgust. It smells horrible. Walkers smell awful, like shit, and death. It's just pure death. I stand back as the men go ham on the thing. Beating, stabbing it, you name it, they did it. The sound of leaves crunching makes Shane raise his gun.

Amy and Andrea are standing behind me. We're all preparing for the worst: another walker, maybe a horde of them. But then out pops Daryl with his crossbow and about a dozen dead squirrels. Shane lowers his gun but mutters, "Oh, Jesus." In an almost 'oh god, it's him' tone. "Son of a bitch." Daryl curses as he pushes his way through some branches and over some rocks. "That's MY deer!" As Daryl walks towards it, Rick, Morales, and Glenn step away from the deer. "Look at it. All gnawed on by this..." he then began to kick at the Walker.

"..FILTHY.." kick "..DISEASE-BEARING.." kick "..MOTHERLESS.." kick "..POXY BASTARD!"

"Calm down, son, that's not helping," Dale says, not trying to create conflict but to calm the angered man down. Daryl took it as wanting to cause a conflict, though, so he stomps over to Dale, "What do you know about it, old man?! Why don't you take that stupid hat and go back to 'On Golden Pond'!" He shouts before turning back around and walking back towards the deer and Walker.

He sighs as he leans over. "I've been trackin' this deer for miles." He pulls out about three arrows from the deer. "Was gonna drag it back to camp, cook us until some venison." He then pulls out a knife. "What do you think? Do you think we can cut around this chewed-up part right here?" He asks as he leans over the deer and points to the gnawed parts of the deer with his knife. "I would not risk that." Shane replies. The deer looks definitely non-salvageable. Its guts are spilling out and just totally gnawed on. If we tried to eat it, we'd definitely get infected. Daryl sighs. "That's a damn shame." He then turns to the squirrels he has. "I got some squirrels—about a dozen or so. That'll have to do," he sighs.

The Walker's decapitated head then twitches, which is a sight to see. It disgusts Amy, who says, "Oh god." Like she's about to throw up. Andrea then escorts her away from the Walker and probably back to camp. "Come on, people. What the hell?" Daryl says as he shoots the Walker straight in the head. He pulls the arrow out of the Walker. "It's gotta be the brain. Don't y'all know nothin'?" He says with an eye roll. He walks past me, giving me a slight smile.

We follow him as he walks back to camp. "Merle!" He shouts. Everyone's giving each other looks like 'who's gonna tell him?' "Merle! Get your ugly ass out here!" He shouts again. "I got us some squirrel! Let's stew'em up." He says, putting his crossbow down.

Shane decides he will tell him; he is the un-proclaimed group leader, after all. "Daryl, just slow up a bit. I need to talk to you." Shane says. Daryl stops and turns around. "bout what?" He asks, brows furrowed. We're all stopped just a few feet away, watching. We're all crossing our fingers, hoping this won't end badly. "Bout Merle." Shane says as he continues walking past Daryl, "There was a—there was a problem in Atlanta." Shane stops and turns around, putting his hands on his hips. Daryl looks around as we're all kind of gathered around watching. "He dead?" Daryl asks. "We're not sure." As Daryl's brows furrow, Shane replies, "he either is or he ain't!" Rick then steps up and walks over to where Shane and Daryl are. "No easy way to say this, so I'll just say it."

"Who are you?"

"Rick Grimes." Rick replies in his heavy country accent. Someone was going to get hurt; I just knew it. I'm leaning against Shane's jeep, with Glenn standing beside me as we watch. "Rick grimes! you got something you want to tell me?" Daryl shouts angrily. God, I just hope no one gets hurt too bad because I'll have to fix them up.

"Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof hooked him to a piece of metal. He's still there." Rick explains. I can just see Daryl's blood boiling. If steam could come out of his ears, it would be. Daryl turns around, wiping at his eyes like he was about to cry. "Hold on. Let me process this. You're saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof, and you left him there?!" He shouts with tears in his eyes. I actually feel bad for Daryl. If someone had chained my brother up on a roof with Walker able to get to him, I'd be just as angry. "yeah." Rick says quietly. Daryl's face is all scrunched up in anger. He turns around just a bit before launching the squirrels at Rick.

Shane immediately gets in between the two, tackling Daryl to the ground. Daryl falls to the ground with a grunt. T-dog drops the logs he was carrying and is just about to jump in when Daryl pulls out his knife and pushes himself off the ground. "watch the knife!" T-dog shouts. Daryl then tries to swing at Rick but misses. Rick grabs one of Daryl's arms, and Shane comes behind him, both men holding him back. Rick takes a step back, letting Shane take over. "Okay, okay," Shane says, trying to stop Daryl from struggling. We all knew this would happen; Daryl was violent. "You'd best let me go!" Daryl shouts.

"Nah, I think it's better if I don't." Shane's arms are around Daryl's neck in a choke hold, and Daryl grunts and tries to escape Shane's grip. "Choke hold's illegal," Daryl grunts as Shane gets him to the ground. "You can file a complaint," Shane replies sarcastically.

"Come on, man. We'll keep this up all day." Shane warns as Rick kneels down next to Daryl. "I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that?" Rick asks Daryl. Daryl doesn't answer. Just continues to wriggle around, trying to get out of their hold. "Do you think we can manage that?" Rick repeats like he's talking to a toddler. Daryl is panting, but let's say, "mhm, yeah." Shane lets him go harshly. "what I did was not on a whim." Rick says, still kneeling down next to Daryl. Daryl's still panting as Rick says, "Your brother does not work and play well with others." Daryl stares at the ground as Rick talks to him. "It's not Rick's fault. I had the key." T-dog says. Both men look up at T-dog. "I dropped it." Daryl's brows furrow. "you couldn't pick it up?!" Daryl asks loudly.

"Well, I dropped it in a drain."

Daryl lets out a loud scoff as he looks down at the ground on his hands and knees. He pushes himself off the ground. "if it's supposed to make me feel better, it doesn't." He says harshly as he throws a handful of rocks back onto the ground as walks past t-dog. "Well, maybe this will.." t-dog says. Daryl stops as t-dog continues, "look, I chained the door to the roof—so the geeks couldn't get at him...with a padlock."

"It's gotta count for something," Rick says. Daryl sighs before wiping his eyes again "hell with all y'all!" Daryl shouts as tears begin to form in his eyes once again. "Just tell me where he is," Daryl says desperately, like he's falling apart without his brother. Even though the two fought like cats and dogs, you could tell they loved each other. "so, I can go get him."

"He'll show you, isn't that, right?" Lori says with one hand on the RV door. Rick's breathing heavily as he looks around. "I'm goin' back." Lori lets out a sigh before climbing into the RV angrily. I understand Lori's anger; she doesn't want her husband, whom she hasn't seen in 2 months, to leave again.

"Are you going back?" I ask, turning to Glenn. "If they want me to yeah." Glenn replies with a nod. "I want to go too," I whisper; Glenn's eyes widen. "You can't," he says; I cross my arms over my chest and let out an angry sigh. I don't know why every man I know chooses to treat me like a child. "I can, and I will. I don't give two fucks what you say." Glenn sighs and places a hand on my shoulder. "You. Can't." I scoff and roll my eyes. "I'm goin' anyways. You can't stop me," I say as I push his arm off me and walk over to Shane.

"I'm going with them." Shane laughs but quickly realizes I'm serious, and his smile drops. "no, you're not." I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest. I don't know when he will realize I'm a few years older than Glenn. If Glenn can handle himself out there, so can I. "I can handle myself out there. I want to help!" Shane laughs and grabs my upper arm harshly. "I'm sure you can, but I'm protecting you." I hate how he always uses the excuse that he's protecting me: "I'm not a kid. I can help!" I shout; he rolls his eyes and says, "You sure are actin' like one. If you want to help, cook something or wash some clothes." I push him off of me and scoff. "Fuck you."

Rick walks out of his family's tent, dressed in his police uniform. I'll ask him. Maybe he's not like Shane. "Hey, Rick!" I say, running up to him. He stops, brows furrowed together. I realize I haven't really introduced myself, so I say, " I'm y/n, I have a question." he nods in response, so I say, "Can I go with y'all?" He sighs and looks at me like, 'Do you have any experience?' "I was in that city for a week with only a knife. I know my way around the place," he sighs again, asking, "Can you shoot a gun?" I nod. I've been able to shoot a gun since I was 7 years old. That's just the pros of growing up in rural Georgia with a grandpa who loved to hunt. "I don't care as long as you can handle yourself." I smile. I turn towards Shane, who has a scowl on his face. I grin just to piss him off.

I watch as Rick walks over to Shane; they have a hushed conversation. Shane's obviously pissed about something, maybe it's me, perhaps it's Rick leaving again. Rick begins to walk off while Shane follows shortly behind.

I think Glenn's pissed at me too. I understand he cares about me a lot, but I want to prove myself to the group. I want them to know I'm not just some helpless girl that needs protecting. I walk over to him; he's got his arms crossed with a worried look on his face. "You going with them?" He asks. I nod, and he loudly sighs, "What if you get hurt?" I rolled my eyes; I had been out in that city with only a knife as a weapon for a week. I know how to protect myself. "I'm not. I can handle myself. I did it before," I say, trying to comfort him, but it doesn't seem to work. He grabs my hand and whispers, "Why would you risk your life for Merle Dixon?" with his brows furrowed. I shrug, and He sighs as he drops my hand. "You give me so much anxiety, y/n," he says with a laugh; I laugh as well and say, "And you think you don't do the same to me?" He rolls his eyes before He smiles and grabs my hand.

Shane and Rick walk back into the area where everyone else is bickering. "So, you and Daryl, that's your big plan?" Lori asks Rick from her spot sitting by our campfire. Rick turns to both me and Glenn. Glenn lets out a groan. "Oh, come on." I laugh because he should have known he'd have to go, too. After all, he's our designated errand-runner. "You know the way. You've been there before...in and out, no problem. You said so yourself." Glenn takes his hat off and runs his hand through his hair. "It's not fair of me to ask, I know that, but I'd feel a lot better with you alone. I know she would, too." Rick says, turning to his wife. "That's just great. Now you're not only going to risk y/n's life but three of our men, huh?"

"Four," t-dog corrects.

Daryl huffs. "My day just gets better and better, don't it?" Daryl says as he cleans his arrows. "You see anybody else here stepping up to save your brothers, cracker ass?" T-dog retorts, which makes me laugh because it is quite a coincidence that T-dog is stepping up to help when Merle hates him. "Why you?" Daryl demands. "You wouldn't even begin to understand. You don't speak my language."

Dale walks over and says, "That's four."

"It's not just four. You're putting every single one of us at risk. Just know that, Rick. Come on, you saw that, Walker. It was here. It was in camp. They're moving out of the cities. They come back; we need every ablebody we've got, " Shane says, getting closer to Rick. "We need 'em here. We need 'em to protect the camp." he's pissed. He doesn't want us out there anymore, especially for Merle. He didn't give a shit about any of us, only himself, so why were we even going. To make ourselves feel better, to not have that guilt on our backs.

"It seems to me what you really need most here...are more guns."

"Right, the guns." Glenn says, slowly walking forward. Everyone, including me, needs clarification about what he's talking about. "Wait, what guns?" Shane asks with his eyebrows furrowed. "Six shotguns, two high-powered rifles, over a dozen handguns." Rick states. "I cleaned out the cage back at the station before I left. I dropped it when I got swarmed in Atlanta. It's just sitting there on the street, waiting to be picked up." Rick explained. "Ammo?" Shane asks quietly. "700 rounds, assorted." Rick confirms. Shane bows his head, thinking about what we should do. "You went through hell to find us. Yo-you just got here, and you're gonna turn around and leave?" Lori just couldn't understand why he would risk his life, leaving again. But we needed those guns and ammo. Finding Merle would just be a side quest. "Dad, I-I don't want you to go." Carl stutters out. "To hell with the guns. Shane is right. Merle Dixon? He's not worth one of your lives, even with guns thrown in." Shane runs his hands through his hair as Rick walks towards Lori. Lori stands up and says, "Tell me. Make me understand."

"I owe a debt to a man I met and his little boy." Lori looks down at Carl like, 'We have a kid too?!' Rick grabs Lori's hand. "Lori, if they hadn't taken me in, I'd have died." He says quietly, "It's because of them that I made it back to you at all. They said they'd follow me to Atlanta. they'll walk into the same trap I did if I don't warn him." Lori looks down at her feet before whispering, "What's stoppin' you?" Rick sighs before saying, "the walkie-talkie, the one in the bag I dropped, he's got the other one. Our plan was to connect when they got closer."

Shane's now sat down by his jeep, rubbing at his face, stressed, he's stressed. What are you really supposed to do in this situation? We really need those guns, but we could lose people if we did it. "These are our walkies?" Shane asks. Rick nods and says, "Yeah." with a sigh. "So, use the c.b...what's wrong with that?" Andrea suggests. "The c.b's fine. It's the walkies that suck to crap..date back to the '70s, don't match any other bandwidth, not even the scanners in our cars" Shane explains. Lori avoids Rick's eye contact, looking just behind or at her feet. "I need that bag." Lori doesn't reply. She's just speechless. Rick walks past Lori and to their son. He kneels down in front of Carl. "okay?" Carl just nods. "All right," Rick whispers as he ruffles Carls's hair.

Glenn turns to me. "We're both coming back alive. I swear if you don't, I will literally kill you." I let out a laugh. "Well then, if you don't, I'll do the same," he smiles. "Deal?" "Deal." We both laugh as I lean my head onto his shoulder.

-

I'm sitting in my tent, riffling through my belongings, looking for the handgun my granddad lent me before I headed off to college. I finally found it hidden under a pile of blankets. I stuffed it into my bag and stepped out of my tent. Glenn's already in the large truck Rick and them brought back. Daryl's in the back with t-dog, while Glenn's in the front. I walk over and hop up into the back with Daryl. "You find your gun?" Glenn asks as he turns back towards me. I nod as I take a seat on the metal floor. Rick and Shane walk up to the back of the truck. Shane places down a large black bag. "Hey, Rick, got any rounds in the python?" Shane asks. "No," Rick replies, shaking his head. "Last time we were on the gun range, I'm sure I wound up with a few loose rounds of yours."

Daryl sits next to me and takes my gun out of my hand. He examines it briefly before asking, "You know how to use this, darlin'?" I scoff and roll my eyes. "Yeah, I do," I say as I grab my gun back from him and tuck it back into my bag. "You know how to use that?" I ask sarcastically as I point to his crossbow. He laughs, "Of course I fuckin' do." Rick and Shane walk away, and Daryl stands up. He walks over and closes the back of the truck. The truck starts up, and we're going.

-

We're driving over some train tracks, which is a bit bumpy but not too bad. "He'd better be okay. It's my only word on the matter." Daryl says to T-dog it's a warning; if Merle isn't alive, he's going to hurt someone, and it'll probably be T-dog. "He will," I whisper. Of course, he will. He's fucking Merle. He'd be able to be hit by a truck, and he'd still be alright. "I told you the geeks can't get to him," T-dog says, leaning his head against the metal wall of the truck. "The only thing that's gonna get through that door is us." t-dog adds.

We come to a slow stop, and Glenn takes out the keys. he then turns to us, "We walk from here." We all get out of the car. Both T-dog and Daryl hop out first, then me.

-

Glenn pushes a broken part of a wired fence out of the way so we can all get through. "Merle first or guns?" Rick asks as he turns around towards us. "Merle! We ain't even having this conversation!" Daryl shouts. "We are." Rick says and then turns to Glenn, "You know the geography. It's your call." Glenn sighs before saying, "Merle's closest. The guns would mean doubling back. Merle first." a little out of breath. Daryl's definitely happy about that.

-

We're walking through a department store, and we're all a little on Guard. I've got my gun held out, ready to shoot any moment. We hear a Walker shuffling around, so we all freeze. Rick spots it and points it out to us before we slowly walk around the store, trying to stay as quiet and out of sight as possible. Daryl approaches the rotten, growling thing, and he raises his crossbow "damn, you are one ugly skank." He mutters. It starts to growl at him, getting ready to lunge, but he quickly shoots it straight in the head. It falls to the ground with a thud, and Daryl quickly pulls his arrow out of its head.

We made it to the top with hardly any more walker interference, which I'm grateful for. We all sprint up to the door that leads to the roof, Rick's there first, holding the chain so t-dog can cut it off. He cuts the chain, pulls it off, and Daryl kicks open the door before he runs out. "Merle! Merle!" he shouts as he gets out onto the roof. We follow him as Daryl looks for his brother, but he's not there, just handcuffs cuffed to a pipe, a saw, and a hand.

"No! No!" Daryl cries out over and over again. I feel for Daryl, I really do, but did we all really think Merle was going to stay up there? There was no doubt in my mind that Merle wouldn't find a way to get his ass off this roof, even if that meant sawing off his own hand.

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@e1d0lonk3k @soul4death

#fanfics #x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixion x reader #rick grimes #Lori grimes #Carl grimes #female!reader #fem!reader #zombie apocolypse au #zombie apocalypse #zombie #the walking dead x reader

[internetgremlin-writes]

We need no. 8 and 143 for Sebastian Vettel x reader 😍

8 - "Looks like we'll be trapped for a while,"

143 - "Are you trying to turn me on or are you really just that oblivious?"

SEB REQ SEB REQ SEB REQ!! Very excited about this one because I ADORE Seb and I was secretly worried no one would want to hear about him. Entirely based on Seb's flirting with anything that moves era

Also, this is my 100th post on this blog woo

Warnings: Yeah this is getting smutty. NSFW!

Prompt night info and list for requesting your own ficlet/HCs here!

Also entered an entire crisis over picking a gif because Seb is a YES for me in all of his eras

"Looks like we'll be trapped for a while," you sighed, slumping back against the elevator and sinking to the floor.

Only you could get yourself stuck in an elevator in the middle of the track stadium with Sebastian fucking Vettel. Sebastian was very calm about the whole thing. Thank god, you thought, that the race had finished and it was only post-race interviews left. If you'd held up the race you would have had to change your identity and move to Peru out of embarrassment.

"I'm so sorry," you apologised again, because it was the only thing you could think of doing. Sebastian gave you a fairly blank look from where he was examining the control panel, trying to kick start the buttons to life.

"Not your fault," it wasn't the first time he'd said that either.

"I shouldn't have jammed the buttons," you were running late. You were still new to the whole journalism thing, and if you were being honest you'd been late because you'd gotten stuck in your tech belt with a wire crossed where it definitely shouldn't and you couldn't get it undone alone. You'd rushed into the elevator and repeatedly stabbed the button for the floor you were supposed to be on in your rush. He shrugged simply, giving the blank buttons another slap.

"I don't think it's the buttons, we called for help before they died," he was right; the elevator had started moving before it had ground to a halt, and you'd been able to get through to the help desk, which was entirely unhelpful and had promised help wouldn't be able to get to you until after the interviews when security would be able to safely clear the mechanics for entry.

"In an arena full of mechanics?" Sebastian had questioned, sounding almost amused at the situation. But apparently being able to build a supercar and fix an elevator required two entirely different skillsets.

Sebastian, as it turned out, was an incredibly nice person. You'd crossed paths with him twice before, both for interviews lasting only a couple of minutes long. He'd remembered you, and the second the elevator had shuddered he was more concerned about making sure that you didn't start to panic than anything else. He gave up trying to spark some life into the button panel and sank down opposite you.

"I knew I should have brought my flask," you mumbled because not being sober in this situation sounded a whole lot better. Sebastian raised an eyebrow at you, a little smirk tugging at his lips.

"Do you normally drink before interviewing us? Are we that scary?" He was teasing you, but you could see there was a genuine interest in the way his blue eyes held yours.

"No, but a shot or two for dutch courage sometimes helps," he broke out into a toothy grin, nodding along in understanding.

"Yes well, some of these young drivers are very attractive. It must be distracting," was he teasing you?

"Not really my type," you said without thinking, your response bluntly honest. Sebastian didn't miss a trick, a gleam in his eye letting you know he was keeping hold of that piece of information.

"So you like the older guys?" There was nothing but simple curiosity in his tone, even so, you couldn't quite look him in the eye when you gave your next answer.

"Well, not total grandpas," you said. Your age you meant. More experienced, sensible, mature, but still young enough to have a sense of humour, to know how to show you a good time. You liked gentlemen. "Aren't I supposed to be interviewing you anyway?"

"Ha, please," he opened his hand in invitation and you mimed a microphone in the air, asking him a few stupid questions about the race and his performance, to which he answered with equally silly responses.

Seb, as you learnt he liked to be called by friends, was fascinating. Even his silly answers gave a little bit of himself to you. Every look he gave you was charged, every raise of his eyebrow or quirk of his lips perfectly calculated. And it was working, because you knew it wasn't just the confined space that was making the German increasingly more attractive.

An hour had passed. There was no phone service, you still couldn't get through to the help desk, and even your pocket radio wouldn't tune in. It was like you were stuck in a void. You groaned in frustration as the batteries on your radio stuttered out.

"This stupid thing," you grumbled as you pulled at the random straps and attachments in attempt to free yourself from the equipment. How Ted Kravitz was happy to walk around all day in his was beyond you. Seb was watching you struggle and slowly got to his feet, stepping closer to you.

"Hey, let me," he was very softly spoken as he stilled you.

His deft hands made short work of your belt. He carefully unplugged wires and removed clips and placed them slowly, one by one onto the floor beside you. Your mic and radio pack were the last things removed, so you thought Seb would step away but his hands were back on your waist. His hands were constantly brushing at the skin of your waist, only covered by the thin fabric of the summery dress you'd decided to wear that day. He undid the final buckle, his hands feather-light as he leant around behind you and you could feel his fingers drag across every centimetre of your skin as he finally pulled the belt off you.

Sebastian dropped the belt, but his blue eyes were fixed on yours as he rolled his bottom lip between his teeth. You weren't sure if you were breathing or not.

"Are you trying to turn me on, or are you really that oblivious?" The words rushed from you in a breathless whisper. You froze for a moment, the fear that you'd made a mistake and were about to make the next god-knows-how-long incredibly awkward. Sebastian was painfully neutral in his expression as he regarded you, but he still hadn't stepped back and the smell of his cologne was fogging your mind,

"Oh, I'm trying," how he sounded so casual, just a hint of playfulness about him. You had no idea how to respond, was he teasing you? This man was a world champion, he could do whatever he wanted. There was an edge to that, the idea of the power he held, he was almost untouchable in the paddock. And it wasn't like he was a golden boy who kept himself out of trouble, Vettel had been handed his fair share of fines over the years.

"Right," you could see his back in the mirror opposite you, he was taller than you, shoulders stretching the fabric of his own polo. You looked helpless, backed up against the wall by him. He was looking at you now, eyes a little darker, trained more on your chest than your face.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No,"

The second the word left your lips Seb stepped forward, his body pressing against yours as he pinned you against the second mirrored wall. One hand was gripping your hip, with enough pressure to hold you in place. His other hand was already tangled in your hair, pulling you towards him as he captured you in a searing kiss.

Whatever kind, sweet, gentle nature you thought Seb had when he was interviewed had completely vanished. The man in front of you was kissing you like the world was ending. There was nothing gentle about him as he caught your bottom lip between his teeth and bit down. The was nothing gentle about the way his hands were roaming and grabbing at your body as if he was trying to mould you to his shape. There was certainly nothing gentle about the way he was rolling his hips against your thigh.

"Jesus," he managed to hiss as your mouth fell off his and you started attacking his neck, careful to toe the line just before you'd leave a mark on his skin. You decided to throw caution to the wind, because how many times do you find yourself stuck in a lift with a sporting legend, let alone such a handsome one? And besides, part of you wanted to be in that special club of people who'd known him like this.

You dropped to your knees in front of him, your dress providing a perfect view of your cleavage as you made quick work of unbuttoning the shorts he was wearing.

Sebastian groaned loudly as you took him in your mouth, the feeling alone enough to go straight through you. His hand tangled through your hair again, but he let you control the rhythm as he simply watched you bob your head through the mirror. The noises he made were addictive, and hearing him cursing in German was enough to make you want to finish him off like this.

But he was calling your name and asking you to wait so you pulled back oh so slowly, earning yourself another heavy hiss as you released him.

"I have to fuck you in that dress,"

It wasn't a request. But you didn't mind, you liked being told what to do. He pushed you back against the mirror again, lifting your legs and encouraging you to wrap them around his waist. Seb wasn't particularly tall but you always forgot just how strong the drivers were. He held you like you didn't weigh a thing.

His pace was bruising, and you were actually glad you were trapped in the elevator because there was nothing you could do to stop the near-constant stream of noise slipping from you, and he was equally loud. It was almost, almost, embarrassing at how quickly you were approaching your orgasm, but when Seb, oh so confident, let go of you with one hand and slipped it between you to start toying with your clit you were done.

"Seb-" you whined, his name so natural in your mouth. He was moving at a relentless pace, the pleasure almost overwhelming.

"You can do it," he forced the words out through gritted teeth as he watched you scream, your head falling back against the glass as your hips moved forcefully with him, your walls clenching deliciously around him as wave after wave of pleasure shot through you. You felt him twitch and he bit down on your shoulder as he came with a shudder of his own.

You stayed in his arms for a second, the pair of you breathing raggedly and trying to recover when something crackled behind you making you jump. The buttons on the panel were glowing again.

"Hi, it's reception, can you guys hear me? We're sending someone up now,"

#1.3k prompt night #sebastian vettel #seb vettel #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel imagine #stuck in an elevator #a classic for a reason hehe #formula one #F1 #sebastian vettel smut

[oumaheroes]

What do you think of the relationship between Italy and Romano? And what about their relationship with grandpa Rome?

These are two big questions for characters I really don't spend much time thinking about :')

I haven't got any thoughts concerning the Italys and their relationship with each other. I remember, way back when, that LSunnyC had some great Italy characterisations in their Snakeskins fic (a holy grail of fanfiction in my opinion, if you've not read it, though an incomplete monster boi), whereby they incorporated the differences of North and South, how this affects their relationship and personalities and governs them going forwards. It honestly opened me up to the characters and I won't be able to add much, other than these points:

I think North Italy is a very charismatic, very charming, and very polite man, whilst similarly running political circles around his neighbours. People forget, or don't know, the power and influence North Italy and Venice have had in Europe in the past centuries, and this man is no goofball simpleton. Can be very dangerous and cunning, loves sly poisons and the elegance of a good show

South Italy is rough and blunt and abrasive, but he's also not socially charming and suave. He is not this way intentionally, only that he cannot be anything but. He is jealous of the social skill his brother has but is also less ruthless and more upfrontly honest. He counts on his word and holds it in higher value far more than North Italy does. Hard on himself for lacking in areas he doesn't need

South Italy is very hard working about the things he cares about, whereas North Italy can be hard working to put on a show/ for a reason only to drop it once it's use is over

With their grandfather, I have thought about this even less. They were very young when he died and I think he was their father (in as much as nations can have) but just very old and near the end of his time when they appeared. They were his final death knell, the undeniable truth of his end, and I think this humbled him as much as devastated him. He was done, his last fight and gasp of life over, and these were who would come next. But oh God, he would not be forgotten

With all the littering and influence of small nations that Rome had done and created, it was a relief to have there in his arms an indication of a direct evolution and survival of what he'd worked for within his own lands. The moving of the empire's capital to Constantinople, the fracturing and the over extension of himself an his resources, and the constant invasions from several different groups, still there he saw his own features in two small boys born from the same lands that created him

He left them few memories, but the ones he did leave them with were the most human of all Rome had left his other colonies/ descendants

#aph rome #hws rome #aph italy #hws italy #hws itabros #aph north italy #aph south italy #hws north italy #hws south italy #aph romano #hws romano #aph veneziano #hws veneziano #heroes headcanons

[dollarbin]

Shakey Sundays #6:

Neil Young and Promise of the Real's The Monsanto Years

Somehow this album is cursed in my biography. Every time I try to listen to it something goes deeply wrong. And it's no wonder: in the silly recording session photo above it looks like Neil is casting an evil spell on all of us. Monsanticus!

When the record came out in in the summer of 2015 I was suspicious; Neil had just released Storytone, and it sounded like he'd focused on painting the record's cover and washing his hogs rather than writing good songs. Plus I'd never even heard of his new backing band with their too terrible to be ironic name. Crazy Horse was alive and well; what was Young up to now?

But 20 years previously I'd been equally suspicious when Young got spooked by the Horse and buddied up with a different group of young hipsters to make Mirror Ball, and that record turned out to be awesome. And so I knew The Montsanto Years deserved my open-mindedness in spite of its clunky title and fairly gross cover art.

So I turned it up loud for the first time with my buddy Matt. It was a beautiful day and we had an open road with two hours of drive time ahead of us. Maybe we'd listen to it twice!

But halfway through the album's third song, People Want to Hear About Love, with its inspired-by-Stephen-Still's-very-own-Joe-Lala bongos, and its gather about me young squires chanting, not to mention Young's crankiest grandpa vocal stylings to date, Matt and I simultaneously announced that the song sucked. We put on Zuma instead.

Even so, People Want To Hear About Love, stayed annoyingly in my head all day, and that day was dedicated to attending our friend's younger sister's funeral. I couldn't shake crusty grandpa Neil off at the graveside as my friend's 20-something little sister was lowered into the earth, her life cut short by cancer that came with touches of abhorrent irony: she'd been a nurse; her dad was a cancer doctor. You're wrong Neil, I angrily thought, no one wants to hear about love. Nor do they ever want to hear your song again.

I've given the record sporadic second chances since then. And every time I get to the fourth track, Big Box, I perk up. After all, it opens with Neil alone, playing a demonstrative and churning, here's how it works kids, follow my lead, riff that sounds like it's lifted straight from Mirror Ball.

But before you know it Neil croons "Too Big To Fail" in overdubbed fashion and rhymes "excited" with "Citizens United" (you know, the Supreme Court case that gave corporations the power to essentially buy our elections) and, despite some pretty exciting guitar interplay whenever Young shuts his trap, rather than echoing Mirror Ball the whole thing sounds like Young is hanging out with Kai Ryssdal or David Brancaccio on Marketplace. Come on Neil, that's my least favorite show on NPR.

Yesterday I gave the record yet another try: but again, no dice; my 15 year old ipod (no, I don't own The Monsanto Years on vinyl; I got it in true Dollar Bin fashion by checking it out at the library) played me the first two songs, the lyrically regrettable opening track, which isn't amazing but does not suck, and the pretty lovely, quavering Wolf Moon, before the device (it's the kind with a dial on the lower half; there are 22 thousand songs on the thing, and around 1600 of them are Young's), perhaps disgusted by my choice for this week's Shakey Sunday, cried uncle and died in what appeared to be the very real Steve Jobs kinda fashion.

I was able to resuscitate it eventually but I'm unsure whether or not to risk resumption of the album. After all, it's cursed! And when the terrible day comes, and my ipod refuses to wake back up no matter how many times I pressed down all the buttons at once while cursing, will I need to find another way, either through a very nonDollar Bin purchase of the vinyl or through Neil's old timey, betamax website, to listen to The Monsanto Years ever again? Or can I just stick with Zuma?

Well, let's find out the answer. It's a Shakey Sunday and I'm about to roll my ipod's dice, press play, and go song by song through the rest of Neil's far too long screed against agrobusiness.

The fifth song, A Rock Star Bucks a Coffee Shop, is a big No vote for the record. Yikes. I'd rather drink a big cuppa GMO than hear Young rhyme GMO with Mont-san-to ever again. Whoever is responsible for the whistling in this song needs to never purse their lips in my presence again.

I suspect POTR (I refuse to ever type the band's terrible name out again; I wish they'd named themselves Promise of the Real Sausages instead) are big fans of Young's live bender record Time Fades Away. Working Man's got that vibe but it's slick instead of shakey. Yuck.

In Rules of Change Neil gives us yet another version of the story he's been telling over and over again for the whole record: the farmers have woes; climate change is real; we're doomed unless we get on Uncle Neil's groovy train of love. Look: I'm an environmentalist already. I do what I can to eat sustainably; I ride my bike to work alongside my sweet daughter as much as possible; and I've got a bootleg gray water system already running out the back of my house as we speak, watering my trees with our laundry water. The simple truth is that I never needed this concept album, or any of Young's too numerous to count environmental anthems. I already know this stuff. I'm already angry and I already vote and if Trump gets elected next fall I'll lose my mind a second time. Frankly, Neil, I'd much rather imagine sleeping with Pocahontas.

But it's when we get to the album's title track that I start to wish my ipod was indeed broken.

The song is a terrifying double to Danger Bird: it's slow and brooding with caveman vocals. But the guitar is mostly sickening instead of life changing and everyone's chanting "Safeway" instead of telling me about Carrie Snodgrass sleeping around with some still unknown famous enemy of Young's and ruining his life in 75. I guess Neil's right, people do want to hear about love. And Marlon Brando. And the Astrodome. And me.

I haven't got much to say about the final track, If I Don't Know. It occurs, and it sucks less than most of what we just sat through. What I fear is that Young is letting some young hipster solo at the end of the song while he stands by, contemplating corporate sin. Jimi Hendrix is dead, Ira Kaplan is busy, Richard Thompson isn't interested and Stephen Stills sucks; no other man on earth should be allowed to solo on a guitar while on stage with Neil.

(But I'd be more than happy to have any number of women do so, however, from Leslie Feist to Myriam Gendron to the recently resurgent Joni Mitchell herself.)

Okay folks we did it. We made it through The Monsanto Years. You have my permission to never listen to it again.

Me? As of this moment, while I hit post, I'm already half way through the record for the second time today, and I'm kinda digging my time at the Big Box store. Looks like I like the record anyway.

Neil Young: even his garbage swings.

#Youtube #neil young #the promise of the real #stephen stills sucks #shakey sundays #feist #myriam gendron

[tf2heritageposts]

Cursed thought about TF2 as a dnd characters (warning: dnd rules used loosely pls don't correct me it's been years and also rule of cool bitches)

Demoman is a warlock who unknowingly made a contract with a minor demon for his powers (he was drunk and could barely TALK straight. Poor bloke /affectionate). Minor demon who gave him his power now haunts his eyeball socket. I know he's tall but i think he'd be a halfling. Or at least raised by them.

Medic would be a paladin cleric multi class (i know boring but hold on). He started off as a "cleric" worshiping a god that DEFINITELY should not have been worshipped (and he gives him sacrifice via Archimedes dove delivery) because it was one of the more deranged local medical academic gods. I say medical academic because he is more a god of experiments than actually healing... Which is why he likes medic so much cause he's like "let's just put a baboon uterus inside you... Fuck it let's do three". Anyway Medic is soooo devoted to this gods cause that the sheer time, planning, and effort to removed that first human skeleton while the person was alive became his oath that gave him his paladin powers. Not even the god (who later possesses Archimedes after the dove nearly dies) saw that coming.

Spy is a rogue (obviously fucking look at him) but he's also a changeling decendent of an arcane trickster, hence his shape shifting abilities and his taste for... The shiner and nicer things in life.

Scout is his fighter tiefling son who is CONVINCED his dad is this famous demon singer who wrote a song called "sex bomb" (scout does not know what a sex or a bomb is until engine sits down to explain to him). His mother and all his brothers and stuff are human nobody knows why he's the only tiefling in the fam uh *looks at spy*. He still fights with a baseball bat. Not a club. A baseball bat. And he's still from Boston. Somehow.

Also for lolz instead of pyro being a wizard who constantly casts fireball he's actually an artificer! He keeps thinking he's building cute fun weapons and weapon mods when really theyre weapons of mass destruction because when he was young he was "blessed" by the fair folk to only see good things. We both know how that's going.

On the other hand engineer THINKS he's an artificer but actually he's a wizard and his dad and grandpa's notes on complex inventions hes trying to build + improve is actually his family grimoire.

-Not DND anon but actually the allergic to alcohol and can only kiss demoman once anon

P.S. i think if i take a bunch of Benadryl first and wash my mouth out after i'll live. Me and my friends have been discussing this in detail.

holy hell this is some good hyperfixation goodness, let me respond to each one

1. that is an excellent idea for a demoman warlock concept. honestly he’d probably be a patron for something like the old one or whatnot

2. i am in such love with this concept i am about to make a fucking sheet for this for kicks lh my god

3. good idea

4. also in love with this concept. also fantasy boston

5. also in love with this concept

6. that’s an interesting take, but to be honest i really can’t see engineer as anything but an artificer. artificer wizard multiclass sounds fun though

7. you be careful with that man, talk to your doctor

#not a heritage post #favorite post

[slickshoesareyoucrazy]

My Son's Middle Name

My oldest living relative, and therefore my son's oldest living relative, my uncle, passed away on Tuesday. He married my aunt, my dad's sister, in the early 1950's, right after my dad was born, basically. He shares a first name with my dad and my grandad, which must have been kinda weird for my aunt, but that's love for ya. This is my son's middle name. He's obviously named after my Granda and my dad, but my uncle makes an abundance of men with this name in my life that are worth honoring a little, so that's what I'm gonna do here for a moment.

I think my aunt married my uncle when she was 18 and he was 21. He married one of his best friend's (my dad's actual brother) little sister. He met her standing up at my dad's brother's wedding (which was before my dad was born), and that must have been weird for my actual uncle by birth, but hey, again, that's love for ya. And they were married for 40 years, when she died at at age 58, which I've always thought was tragically young, even when I was 12 when it happened, and I know people tragically die even younger. But the fact that he lived to be 93 means he lived without her for 32 years, never remarried...never even went out on dates. And that somehow makes it sadder. He was a gentle, generous, kind man. He loved animals, especially dogs, and until the very end of his life, always had at least one. He invited everyone to his house on the Fourth of July (his birthday), and Christmas Day (my dad's brother's birthday-it's strange and special that these big holidays are also attached to a good man in my life), after spending Christmas Eve night with everyone already. He was supremely devoted to his family. He took in his daughter as a single mother of 3 before my aunt passed, and raised those kids like they were his. His grandson legally changed his surname to match my uncle's (his grandfather) instead of his dad. He walked both of those granddaughters down the aisle when they married, one of them, when asked if her father was going to be at the wedding said, "My Grandpa's my dad."

And I'm just his niece...one of very many, because we're a huge Irish Catholic family...but damned if he's not one of a small handful of people in my life who have given me a moment where I knew with certainty that they were only thinking about me. The Christmas after I met J, nervous that I'd perhaps finally met someone I could make a life and a home and a family with, and cautiously fielding questions about why I didn't bring him to Huge Family Christmas, my uncle took me aside and gave me a gift I wasn't expecting. It was an old newspaper cutout of me as a newly walking toddler, walking down a city street hand in hand with my Gramma and Granda. I teared up. He knew how much I loved my grandparents and missed them, years after they'd passed when I was a kid, and he'd thought to give me this at Christmas when everyone else was asking me about someone else. Not only that, but way back then when I was a baby, he clipped that out of the newspaper and saved it for 24 years to give it to me at what seemed at the time like a magical moment of connection with my grandparents when I really needed it.

Anyway, he wasn't my Granda, and he isn't my dad, but I'm glad he shares their name, and that is my son's middle name.

#my writing #personal #grief #rest in peace you dear sweet man

[gay-kurapika]

Its February, and around this time every year I like to think about my Grandpa "Mickey" (Michael). His birthday is a day before my own, on February 7th, and even though he passed away over twenty years ago I still wish him a happy birthday each year. In the past I've written him poems, or wondered about the parts of him that I never got to know because he passed away when I was so young. But this year, I want to think about what I did get to know, what that said about him, and why that made him such a special person to me.

Most of my memories of him have to do with food. It makes sense--I was a child, and senses, including taste, are a powerful part of creating memories when you're young. I remember that he had a greenhouse in which he planted radishes all year round, and in the winter he'd take me out to the greenhouse and we'd each pick a fresh one. We'd rinse them off and eat them standing over the kitchen sink like it was a treat too delicious to make it to the table.

And I remember that he would make popcorn for me on the stove top, which seemed magical when I'd only seen it done in a microwave. Then he'd turn on a cartoon and laugh with me as we ate it on the couch.

On holidays he made fudge, and he once told me the magic ingredient was to use marshmallow fluff, whispering it like it was a secret. He'd wait with tissues after my cousins and I decimated the pan, wiping off our fingers for us even when we might have been a bit old for that.

And I remember a few years after, my grandmother gave me chocolate ice cream when she was too tired too make breakfast. When I told her it was the first time I'd had chocolate ice cream, I remember she said "I wish Mick had been here to see that."

It would be easy to focus on how young my grandpa died, and how it must have been painful and difficult for him to die of cancer caused by the same job at which he met his wife and started his family. There is certainly a tragedy there, and maybe another year I'll want to talk about that. But today, I want to remember him as a person who brought joy to others in even the smallest actions, a person whose life is remembered by the joyful moments we had and the ones we wished he could have seen.

[yallemagne]

Can you imagine Jonathan Jr growing up only hearing and reading about his father and what he did from his mother and his uncles, and wishing he had met him? And likely can't even visit his grave. (It's another reason why I'm glad he survived, he grew up without a father, and with the way that he wrote about Hawkins he longed for one, but his child doesn't have to.)

Of course I can imagine it. Are you asking me to write it because I might run out of steam.

I might... opt to call him Nathaniel... because the name means the exact same thing, but I don't have to add another Jonathan to my list of darling boys.

You don't need the body to have a tombstone in England, but I imagine it would be one hell of a revelation if you're a child and you find out your father isn't even buried where you've been visiting all this time. Though, they could exhume his body later if they had to bury Jonathan in Transylvania. It feels very morbid to say this, but they could just dig him up and put him in the right spot.

Jonathan's orphan status is why I couldn't rightly have Jonathan grandly say like Quincey that he's happy to die for Mina's sake. Because that's not how the death played out. Dracula could have been killed with no other casualties, but he wasn't. As orphans, Jonathan and Mina are both very intimate with the concept of death and the truth that there's no real honour or sacrifice to it, it just happens.

Jonathan Harker didn't want to die and leave his wife so needlessly, he didn't want his child to grow up without a father. He was scared to die, he had only very recently come into his own as an adult. That's no age to throw your life away.

But that doesn't make a good story. Nathan's uncles talk over that part. They spin stories about what a brave and legendary man Nathan's father was, and his mother doesn't know how to tell them Jonathan wouldn't want that. They make the man seem so much older, so much more masculine and legendary. They make his death into a Greek tragedy.

Nathan only finds out that his father was twenty-one when he died when he's eighteen.

"That's younger than even you were," he meekly remarks.

"Yes," his mother replies.

"I didn't know that was possible."

Then again, his mother had always told him things about his father that he thought were impossible. That the two of them would often share clothes in their youth, that the man ceased cutting his hair after the castle and let it grow past his shoulders, that he nearly hunted down an evil vampire dressed in only one of Mina's... one of their nightgowns... That he was always more beautiful than he was handsome, and he'd be proud of the young man Nathan had grown up to be.

When he's finally allowed to read the manuscript, he cries and cries and cries. Everything makes sense then. Reading his father's promise not to let his mother go into the darkness alone reassures him that his bullies were always wrong when they mocked him by saying his father was a cowardly scoundrel who just ran off.

Mina tells him secrets that were never written down, that not even his uncles and grandpa know, and he fights not to become disillusioned with men in the process of learning. No matter how much he loves them, he knows they might be less eager about praising his father if they knew everything.

At some point, he gets it in his mind to interview every person he can find who ever met his father.

A lot of lawyers, some workers from moving companies... many of them only have so much to say about him. What a kind young man he was, and a great man to depend on for drinks!

Looking through his father's things, he finds a receipt for that knife he'd inherited from him. He thought it had been a family heirloom...

The shop owner smiles bittersweetly when he hears the news that Mr. Harker is dead. No wonder he never paid a visit after that grand journey he went on... he'd hoped the young man had simply forgotten.

"Tell me he did it," Mr. Singh requests. "Tell me he killed that bastard."

"He did," Nathan tells him, "right before he died."

The man grins, though melancholy lingers in his expression. Just then, his face lights up-- "No one has told you about that knife, have they?"

The old lady and her husband at the Golden Krone Hotel are retired, but the woman's eyes light up with recognition when she's greeted by such a familiar face. She kisses him on the forehead and tells him he looks just like a boy she once met. He tears up and shows her the rosary that she had given that boy. She teaches him how to pray with it.

The Sisters at the Hospital of St. Joseph and Ste. Mary fawn over the boy as they had his father. He doesn't care for it. Sister Agatha refuses to tell him anything he hadn't already known. "Those secrets are between him and God," she says. It's not fair.

When he finally returns home, his mother asks if he found what he wanted. He wants to tell her no out of bitterness, frustrated with all the money wasted buying drinks for coworkers who only barely knew his father and the secrets the nuns kept to themselves, but he thinks of the lessons in prayer he received from Mr. Singh and that old landlady and changes his mind. Perhaps he has learned all he can now.

He resolves to find out all the rest when he finally meets his father... someday.

#i need to stop #dracula #dracula daily #should i come up with an au name or something? i dunno #dracula au #dracula fanfiction #fanfiction #should i tag the characters? I dunno #people ask me things #update #ask and ye shall receive

[tellwolves]

↕ - a memory that may or may not have happened (june!)

memories, like the corners of my mind.

she doesn't like football. it makes her scratch her head, how americans decided to make the game so synonymous with thanksgiving. greta didn't seem too interested in it, either. a few years ago, they would've done something with each other to entertain themselves.

nowadays, she's not so sure greta wants anything to do with her.

" psst. junebug. "

she looks over her shoulder. uncle finn's dressed up like he's leaving -- his scarf, his gloves, his nice brown coat. so soon? a sharp, longing pang shoots through her chest. every time he leaves, every time she leaves him, she feels that they haven't spent an adequate amount of time together. " are you leaving? "

he shakes his head, muttering, " oh, no, no, no. i'm not. "

that makes her feel better. but, the question remains. " why are you dressed up like you are? "

he inches closer, and puts his arm over her shoulders. he pulls her close, and she instinctively curls into his side. she doesn't feel embarrassed. it's just them, no one will tell her eleven's too old for that.

" i was thinking me and you could blow this popsicle stand. " he jerks a thumb over his shoulder, towards the living room, towards dad and grandpa complaining about the ref.

she nods. " yeah. i'd like that. "

she puts on her shoes, then her scarf and gloves and her woolen jacket. she lets him situate the toboggan on her head, careful to not snag her ears with his rings when he slips it over them.

right hand on the doorknob, his finger goes to his lips. she mirrors the gesture. it feels like a breakout. it's nice to have fun little secrets with someone again.

they walk into the woods. with the trees surrounding them, the sounds of a newborn night, the silence that only comes with snow, it feels like a whole different time. that's why she likes them so much. everything modern melts away. they could've walked into a portal and not known it. she looks for a robin. maybe the secret garden is near.

they stop, and finn says he's going to build them a fire. she didn't know he could do that, but doesn't tell him so. she picks up three sticks that look good enough for kindling. finn's thank you, darling, you're a natural woodsy owl makes her feel warmer than any fire ever could. after a couple minutes, there's a fire in front of them. her uncle finn could do anything.

" you ever think about what the cavemen thought when they did that for the first time? " finn asks, brushing snow off a log he'd dragged over for them to sit on.

she sits down beside him, smiling, a giggle bubbling up her throat. she hadn't. " i bet they went crazy. "

they huddle together, her underneath his arm. she closes her eyes. she can smell his cologne, and her house, and, faintly, his apartment. lavender and orange. she finds herself staring at the fire more than talking with him. she supposes that's just as well: he's not being very talkative, either.

it's nice to just be held.

he gives her a tiny shake. " i'm going to teach you something. "

she looks up, but doesn't move. " yeah? "

" you know mozart, don't you? "

" yeah. duh. you play him all the time. "

his smile can be heard in his voice. " my apologies, young lady. " then, continuing: " there's a song in the record i play all the time. "

she sniffles, and sits up. " requiem, right? "

" just the one. you're a smart cookie, crocodile. well, one of the songs, or rather, one of the parts, it's called lacrimosa. "

lacrimosa. it's a pretty word. she likes it. she repeats it a few times to herself.

" it's latin for 'weeping'. crying. the state of being tearful. "

she loved to hear uncle finn talk. he sounded so -- educated. sounded like new york city. she wanted to be like him.

" this song and others like it are sung in the instance of someone dying. morbidly enough, " finn reaches and fixes her scarf, tucks some hair back into the toboggan, preening her like a proud bird would his chick, " mozart died before he could finish composing it. "

she shivers. she's not sure if it's the chill or the thought of a famous man writing about death, only to die with his work incomplete. she stays her silence, slightly bobbing her head to will finn on.

he leans in a little closer, drops his voice to an even quieter whisper. " do you want to know how it goes? "

her mouth opens, closes. she nods. he sings it through, his voice a little haunting in the stillness, especially since he's singing about death and crying and sorrow. he teaches her what each line means, translating it into english.

she sings it. they both do. over and over again in their small, quiet, wobbly voices, careful not to disturb any creatures that might be around. by the end of it, she knew it by heart. dona eis requiem. dona eis requiem

" we ought to start heading back. " he stands, and she mourns the moment coming to an end. she doesn't want it to end. " they'll be wondering where we are. " there's a pause as he puts out the fire. " i want to stay here forever. in the forest. with you. i never want to go back to the city again. "

her eyes grow wide. uncle finn, not living in the city? no, impossible. that's not right. that's a square peg in a round hole.

his smile seems a little sad. " i know i couldn't. " he opens his arm, the same one she's been under, inviting her to walk underneath it as they head back. she feels reassured, but still wonders if finn had meant to say that out loud. if that had slipped out on accident, and she was never supposed to know about it.

they follow their tracks home. turns out, they weren't far from home, at all. so much for the illusion.

" there you two are, " mom says as they reenter the kitchen, their cheeks red from the cold. one fist goes onto her hip. her smile is toothless, but entirely geniune. mom must be thinking that they're two peas in a pod. " saved you some pumpkin pie. there's two pieces in there with your names on it. some cool whip, too. "

" thanks a bunch, old woman, " finn says, teasing her with his nickname for her. mom feigns severity, looking like the school secretary, and goes back into the living room.

as she's leaving, finn says to her: " c'mon. i'll let you have this piece. it's bigger. "

when he's certain mom's gone, finn winks. she, more clumsily, winks back. their secret. they won't tell anybody where they were.

#chose this one because she tells an abridged verison to toby #and then later on tells him she made it up :( ..........so. #we never know! we never know if it was real or not #june. #finn. #danni. #verse one. #answered. #hungryyheart

[egg-emperor]

Hey since I think you have excellent knowledge on this thing, do you think Maria is older than eggman?, since in his memorials in sonic frontiers he says how people were still upset about Maria’s death when he was right there, I know you don’t enjoy eggman having a tragic backstory but you do know his age range and I wandering if you think Maria is older than him since she was dead by the time he mentiones this and you know a great deal about eggman lore and his age

Aw thank you for your trust in my knowledge. ^^ Well I've explained here why I don't feel like the memo was necessarily implying that Maria died before he was actually even born at all, just because he talked about how he especially didn't understand the big deal about her after she died. I don't think he'd have to clarify in it that he "never really knew" her, if they weren't even alive at the same time back then.

The memo works as potential support of my estimate that he's old enough to have been alive the same time instead. And he's officially referred to as old and middle-aged, was considered as being 60+ in Sonic CD, and associated with respect for the aged day, a day to celebrate elderly senior citizens in Japan, which would be weird if he was young as 40s lol. I believe he must at least be in his 50s-60s.

I personally imagine him as being in his mid 50s for it to be right in the middle of the potential age range I theorize but I wouldn't mind if he turned out to be just a bit younger or older (even better actually hehe). But because the exact number of his age isn't confirmed, I can't say the exact age difference between him and Maria. But I feel like he could've been a bit younger than her, there isn't anything that confirms or denies it.

I don't have strong reasons to believe he was younger with my theory that he was alive the same time as her in mind though, whatever his own age was as we don't have the real number. Just that it's canon that he definitely never went to the ARK as a child as he didn't even know about it with all the top secret stuff and it would make sense to feel like he never "really" knew Maria as a result, despite hearing and learning so much about her through others.

Maybe he could've been younger than Maria and too young to visit the ARK as a result, or it just because he didn't have a reason as I doubt they'd just let anyone up there whenever, so it was never arranged for him, as much as he would've loved to go and meet his grandpa. He was probably jealous of Maria and resented her for this too, again not caring that it was because of her condition, just like his lack of sympathy in the memo too.

So as for his age, highly likely to be 50s-60s. As for whether that means he was younger than Maria or not, it depends on where exactly on that scale he really sits but it's never been stated outright and there's no strong supporting evidence, unlike his actual age range itself. But I'm still certain that they both did exist at the same time as each other at one point and it seems the memo can support that, not debunk it.

#dr eggman #eggman #dr robotnik #dr. eggman #sonic frontiers #maria robotnik #my post

[dustyphantom]

May I have some Drayden and Iris headcanons? I would love some dragon grandpa and his granddaughter things :)

I think I needed this. Burnout's been bad recently.

I will say that in my lore, Drayden is one of the more tragic characters, and Iris's past isn't too happy either.

I hope this is good either way!

Drayden is one of the twin princes of old.

An unfortunate incident led him to being granted immortality when he was 19.

He does age, but very slowly. During Black and White, he is roughly 3,030 years old. Physically, he's 50-60 years old.

His lifeforce is bonded to Reshiram. If Reshiram dies, he will as well.

Drayden's younger twin, Miran, was killed when they were 19.

Ingo, Emmet, and N are descended of Miran.

Some few hundred years before BW, he was married and had a daughter, Katja(Katia). They both died young.

He swore that he'd never fall in love again.

However, he cares very deeply for Iris, as much as he did for his own daughter.

He could sense that Reshiram was gaining power again, and so in fear their re-emergence would lead to their death, he took Iris under his wing to hold up his legacy and take over in his stead.

Alder is the only other person who knows about this, and has been sworn to secrecy.

Iris is 12 years old in BW.

The Village of Dragons was burned to the ground when Iris was young by Team Plasma, who resented the idea of humans living with Pokémon as equals.

Iris and her axew/haxorus are thought to be the sole survivors of the massacre.

However, she doesn't remember the massacre

Drayden knows it's only a matter of time before she remembers, but he still refuses to tell her.

When she was little, Iris would have nightmares about fires. Drayden would read her stories until she fell back asleep and stay with her for the rest of the night.

She would also often sleep with a bucket of water beside her bed.

Although she's gotten over her fear, she does still occasionally have nightmares about forest fires.

Drayden tried to introduce Iris to Lance so he could mentor her, but she immediately got along better with Clair.

Before she became champion, Iris stayed in Blackthorn City for about a year studying directly under Clair.

Drayden cried when she finally surpassed Alder and became Champion.

Iris obviously sees Drayden as her grandpa, but he is also her legal guardian.

He has accidentally called Iris "Katja". He cried the first time he did this.

Iris knows about Drayden's wife and daughter, but she doesn't know about his immortality. He plans to tell her "eventually".

Drayden tried to get Iris into fishing. It didn't work.

They both enjoy soccer and often play together.

Drayden is an Asexual cis man.

He stands at 6'6"(200cm), and is the same height as Ghetsis.

Iris is an undecided cis girl.

She stands at 4'10"(148cm).

#pokemon #champion iris #gym leader iris #Gym Leader Drayden