#jerome packs

[bublinko]

SOLD OUT

[mylegendaryicons]

[dreamer-oriented-express-1]

Jerome Valeska Appreciation...❤️

Yes...of course...I appreciate him! Why not???

Jerome luvs you!!!😍 (Even tho' he's a crazy son of b****!)

[justtrashperson]

I miss the pack. I miss em

[malewifeph1lza]

WAIT NO WAYYYYYYY

[dodgebolts]

I had a friend in middle school who wrote a self insert merome fic on fanfiction.net. my first rpf was skylox which I read a couple fics of on wattpad in middle school.

yeah team crafted rpf was crazy 😭😭 and then everything went to shit when they moved in together what a wild ride

[dealterspam]

Mitch and Jerome Town AU designs bc they rlly needed one 

I’m redesigning the whole Pack since I’ve been on an og mcyt kick recently :)

[vixonspixels]

Mercy and Jerome's special day

Long story short, I decided to finally get these two married in game as it was well over due. Needless to say I am so disappointed in the wedding stories pack, as honestly this pack is a mess as most of you are aware

This was my first wedding in the sims, and will be my last 😂

That's a wrap on this season of mercy's story and honestly I am so glad I bit the bullet and decided to end it, as I've honestly not enjoyed filming this season for my youtube channel

Prep now begins for miah and kingston at highschool, and I am so excited for it!

[is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not]

WELCOME TO THE JUNGLE

I'm fucked, Alariel thought.

That was her professional opinion. Fucked.

Her sensors, hindered as they were, had detected a Level II of Mechs approaching. All Clan Heavies. Alariel's LIDAR and reactor signature identification systems had struggled to get a lock on all of them, but the distinctive radiation pattern of massive Clan fusion engines was enough to tell her the Clans had her scent, and were intent on drowning her in metal.

A single heavy 'Mech was not a threat to her - not alone, in the open. But in the situation Alariel's fusion engine was carrying her into? The pack tactics, the urban terrain, the ECM - her C3i link had gone dead as the enemy had closed to within 180 meters. One of the enemy machines must be mounting some powerful EW systems - have the Clans made a counterpart for the Angel? Such a prospect was... at once intriguing and terrifying to Alariel.

I'm being hunted. The comms I heard... Smoke Jaguars. Blake, I thought they were all dead...

She readied her weapons, running through the rituals of activation. She felt the calming thrumming of the magnetic suspensors lifting gaggles of HAG slugs into their barrels.

The clunk of the iHGR round slamming home into the loader as the capacitors charged.

The warmth in her arms as her PPCs charged.

She checked to ensure the safety equipment was ready. Just in case a lucky hit found a capacitor on her Gauss weapons. She cursed herself - she'd meant to have her new prototype supercharger and MASC implanted under her ablative skin before the march, but they're hadn't been time... And now that lack of time is going to kill me.

She thought, as quick as her brain would allow her. She lashed out with her sensors, her LIDAR building her a picture - long main thoroughfare - Jerome Boulevard, current address - [error GPS offline] - side streets - none large enough for her 150-ton body. Her fellows were either cored, headcapped, or couldn't hear her anymore.

She prayed, her communication system broadcasting a player to Holy Blake, that he might protect her.

She knew he couldn't hear her.

[coupleoffanfics]

Gotham Isekaied Reader

I have an idea. It's nothing new. I wrote nearly 5 pages of this idea, but I'm too scared to post it since it's filler and I even drew a cover. So I will ramble about this idea through headcanon. Some Jerome x Reader, I’m sorry. I can’t help myself. CW: One mention of suicide.

y/n wakes up to find that her life has gotten a major upgrade. Any flaws that her family has is erased. Did mom drink away stress? Now she doesn’t even touch alcohol. Dad isn’t smoking away his life. Her older brother is a law-abiding citizen who is studying to become a lawyer. Her younger brother is more positive about life and growing up in a home that they wished they had.

Not to mention that they’re rich. She no longer lives in a bad neighborhood and sleeps in a snazzy mansion.

Life is looking up until y/n turns on the TV with a news story about a man killing corrupt people with weather balloons.

She sits there thinking, ‘This was nice, but I should be getting back home.’

Maybe y/n’s close friends with Bruce beforehand. That’s when she realizes that she has to learn about the other y/n’s life. She can’t risk telling anyone about “we’re in a shitty TV show” without everyone considering throwing her into a mental institution. Tough luck because she ends up in Arkham regardless.

She writes down plotlines that she remembers. Making files on the character that she has met. Her files are hidden away in her room and aren't brought up later down the line when a certain person finds them.

How y/n ends up in Arkham is complicated. I want y/n to be completely sane through our POV, so she’s not going to be “I’m so insane and quirky”. Maybe she’s framed or killed someone in self-defense. Well, okay, I have thought out what gets her thrown into Arkham, but I don’t think anyone would find it interesting.

During her trial, the prosecutor will use her history of depression and suicide attempts to paint her as a homicidal. The whole trial is fishy, yet ends with her being locked up.

Bruce believes y/n when she says she hasn't done anything and promises to get her out of there. Legally of course.

Alfred probably tries to keep Bruce from visiting because Arkham has a reputation and doesn’t want him to be anywhere near there. The poor boy is going through too much in a short amount of time. 

So Bruce will send Selina to deliver anything. Or they both run away to visit y/n. When they come back to the manor and Alfred is questioning them, they both lie by saying that they’re somewhere else.

Bruce just wants to make sure his bestie is alright. Selina is just along for the ride but might visit y/n even when she doesn’t need to.

While in Arkham y/n is vibing in her little corner when Jerome starts bugging her. Might tell him about some plotlines just to see if anyone would believe her.

Jerome just laughs it off and starts orbiting y/n because she’s interesting. She tends to ramble and mumble to herself, for some reason he finds it so cute.

“You’re kind of funny, but I wouldn’t call you a joker.” She says before thinking, ‘Because legally you aren’t him. Thanks a lot, higher-ups.’

He writes about her in his diary and uses any stickers that she gives him. ‘Yeah, she's weird. Calling people characters and saying that we aren’t real, but she’s my little weirdo. I also got another pack of Hello Kitty stickers from her.’ Then he proceeds to doodle her with crayons.

When Theo Galavan surprise adopts them, Jerome starts taking y/n’s words more seriously. Still doesn’t believe her when she says he and everyone aren’t real. Like how is that possible? He feels real, oh whatever he has no time for that.

At the manor, Bruce is freaking out and dialing Jim begging him to save his bestie from that homicidal ginner. Theo has to make it seem like y/n is a hostage since she refuses to do any killing and Jerome has scary dog privilege.

‘They aren’t real. They aren’t people.’ She’d try to tell herself, but she just can’t bring herself to try to hurt someone. y/n is one of those freaks who try to drive safely in GTA without running over anyone or anything.

She doesn’t think that her words mean anything and that everything will follow the script. Until she tells Jerome to take an extra lighter with him. She’s chilling by herself when the news shows footage of a burnt bus and the news anchor talking about the cheerleaders who lost their lives.

That’s when y/n starts thinking over everything she’s said. She debates whether or not she should tell Jerome about Theo’s betrayal.

‘The show does start declining in ratings when he’s killed off. I could be doing the writers a favor, but what about the people? No, characters. They’re just characters! They aren’t real!’

In the end, Jerome is killed off and she’s put back into Arkham. Everyone is surprised by how calm she is after Jerome’s death. Not upset or anything. Like weren’t they close? Maybe their relationship was more one-sided.

Jim will question y/n and she might let a few things slip. Most brush her words off as they believe that she has some sort of Stockholm syndrome and is angry at Theo for killing her captor.

Back at Arkham, y/n yells, “FUCK!” When seeing Hugo Strange.

When Theo is dealt with, Jim will visit her or send her a thank you card for pointing him in the right direction regarding the investigation.

I’m getting tired and I might continue writing about this.

But I was going to have y/n be free from Arkham when some evidence regarding her case comes out. y/n will be outwardly passive throughout the story.

In the end, I was going to have y/n be the one who becomes Joker. Maybe she falls into a tub of chemicals. Don’t worry darling you aren’t going to be deformed like Jeremiah at the end. You’ll look different, but still smoking hot. 😘

Anyway seeing the physical change, her dwindling hope of getting back home, and her mental state being worn out. She decides to step up and take the name of Joker.

Bruce angst all the way. Maybe angst for other characters, but I could see this tearing him apart. He’s forced to watch his closest friend be replaced by a cackling monster. To then eventually start fighting against her.

She doesn’t react to being called y/n anymore, but she’ll give Batman/Bruce a melancholy look if he calls her by that. He doesn’t call her y/n often because that wasn’t y/n. y/n l/n was dead and there was no way she was coming back.

The theory of Joker being sane will ring true to y/n. She knows this isn’t real. It’s just fiction and any good piece of fiction needs a good villain. Since she’s not making it back home, she’ll make things fun.

Or multiple endings because those are always fun.

“Jerome? Jeremiah? Never heard of them.”

[lovebunnie]

It happens while Hawk and his granddaughter are playing cards together.

Cards were one of the habits Hawk had picked up while in the Army, along with tidy bed corners and a fondness for well fitting uniforms. While stationed in the barracks, he and his fellow men would pull out a dingy old stack and shuffle through every game they could think of; the repetitive motion kept their itchy trigger fingers at bay. Once they called to ready up, the pack of cards was left under someone’s pillow so that no matter what happened, their pack wasn’t sealed away in a body bag. Hawk does not think his granddaughter would appreciate his war stories.

But the call comes from across the kitchen while Hawk analyzes his moves to find the best way to let his granddaughter win without her knowing. She stands at the sound, racing towards the kitchen with enthusiasm only children can have.

“Fuller residence,” she says, and then pauses. “Yes sir, he is. Right away.”

Hawk hears her call his name, hears her say that the call is for him. Hawk realizes it’s happening. Or it has happened.

He stands slowly, so slowly the movement feels beyond his being. “I’ll be right there, sweetheart. Why don’t you go find your mother to see what’s for dinner?” Hawk suggests numbly. She grins and leaves the phone on the counter.

It lays conspicuously on its side, like she placed it without knowing what was going on. To his granddaughter, it was just another afternoon lunch with her grandfather while they sipped on sodas and he taught her how to write her name in cursive. Those days came more and more frequently as time passed, as Lucy strayed further and further away from Hawk. Kimberly saw Hawk’s apartment with wilting plants on the sill and asked him to join her for something to eat; he does not know where she got her kindness from because it certainly was not him.

Hawk picks up the phone as though it is poised to strike, holding it close. “Hello?”

“Hey, Hawk,” Marcus sighs quietly.

There is a stretch of silence where both men are afraid to take the first step; Hawk knows what the call means and Marcus knows that Hawk knows. It is as if there need not be any words.

Hawk grips the phone so tightly the plastic squeaks, eyes staring at the tile in his kitchen he remembers thinking looked tacky way back when. In the back of his mind, he remembers the contractor he hired to replace it and the feeling of the man’s mouth on him instead. Hawk shuts his eyes.

“It was peaceful,” Marcus says softly. “Frankie, Jerome, and I were all there. We got him warm blankets from the dryer.”

Hawk stays silent.

Outside, he thinks he hears his granddaughter laughing.

Marcus talks to fill the empty space, where all the flowers he had been gifted in the past few days would go. How Maggie was making the funeral arrangements and which church the service would be held at. There is no invitation extended.

“I’m sorry, Hawk.” Marcus clears the tears from his voice. “It’s not fair.”

There was no point in agreeing with Marcus; they had all screamed these same frustrations for years both in private gatherings and on the streets. They spent nights sleeping in jail cells or nursing headaches on friend’s couches, tending wounds from police batons and writing letter after letter after letter to a recipient who would never bother to open them.

Well, not all of them. Not Hawk. Never Hawk.

He hears Kimberly upstairs start the vacuum and remembers his granddaughter has riding lessons later.

“You’re right,” Hawk says. “It’s not fair.”

[frank1nsaint]

Franklin Part 1.

You look around the crowd of people, slightly overwhelmed by the turn out at the fair today. It was a Saturday night after all anyone who wanted to enjoy an ounce of fun weekend before work/school on Monday was here. Unfortunately for you crowds weren’t your thing since a fight tended to break out and nowadays a gun would be pulled quickly. 

“Damn! he walks like his dick is heavy” you hear 

You start coughing choking on your cola

“What?!!” Wanda comments

“She must be talking about Franklin”  Lashay adds as you all now looked towards where she looked, Franklin’s crew walked towards them mostly because of Leon but still they made their way towards you 

There’s a light laughter between you girls “Girl you crazy!” your best friend who just happens to be your cousin Harmony adds to the discussion 

“Oh shit they coming this way yall straighten up!” Tasha snaps quickly adjusting herself clothes  

You groan internally you didn’t want to deal with Franklin and his men. You were around them from elementary to now, and right now mentioning Franklin and his men was like mentioning the grim reaper and his minions. After Kevin's death and Franklin’s release, it was like they were untouchable, and anyone who crossed them ended up dead. Franklin didn’t have that innocent aura about him anymore, you couldn’t describe it he was different confident

“Ladies!” Mike Mike greets bowing his head

“Hey y'all” Lashay greets

“What y'all doing here?” Leon asks

“We are at the state fair duh we are here to get some drinks food and have fun” Wanda responds

“The questioning is what are y'all doing here?” Harmony asks

“Shit y'all can’t be the only ones having fun!” Jerome comments

You hang back as the group merges and moves through the fair. You would integrate, often joining the discussion, but for the most part you kinda just chilled in the back and watched as the couples (Tasha/Franklin, Wanda/Leon, Harmony/Sean Louie/Jerome) cupcaked while the rest of you walked at a distance from them. 

“Girl Sean talking about making me his girl” Harmony comments as you two finally made it back to your rented out home 

“Oh nice!” you say removing your shoes

“You had fun tonight?” 

“Yea!” you smile 

“Good see it was fun” she says in a “i told you so” mocking tone 

“Yea yea whatever!” you wave her off before retreating to the kitchen. You two spend the night conversing before heading off to sleep. 

Life goes on and not much can be said about trying to survive and make it in a world that wouldn’t allow you to. 

“No,” you look at your cousin with a dead face

“WHYYY GIRL? COMME ONNNN” she begs

“Why do I” you point to your chest, “need to go? Tasha, Lashay, Bri, CiCi they are all going” 

“Because cousin, it's a christmas/new years party, damn you wanna be the only bitch in south central staying home on new years eve??”

“You know i don’t like crowds” you argue “and you know damn well that house is about to be packed” 

“When will you get to experience partying at a drug lords house again?” she counters 

“I would hope never Harmony”

She fake cries “come on girl pleaaassseee” she begs as she hugs you

“Harmony”

“Franklin said bring all your friends you know I cant show up without you” 

“Why not?” 

“Because you are part of the package” 

“Just go with the girls” should 

She turns you to face her “Y/N! why don’t you want to come?”

You sigh “i already told you!” 

She gives you a light push “Fine, be boring, have no social life, have no love life, just  survive, Work, school, home, bills thats it???” She throws her hands up when you give her a blanks stare in return 

You roll your eyes as she walks away. What she said got to you eventually, you didn’t want to only survive, you wanted to live just not around Saint and his men, it's like a body dropped every time he was around. 

You ponder for a few days before approaching her, what could hurt a one time party never to be mentioned again at least you could counter if she ever asked you to leave again. 

“Whats the dress code?” you ask as you stand by the kitchen counter 

“What?” She asks as she mixes the rice on the stove

“For this party” you clarify 

She turns to you with a stunned face, mouth a jar wide grin quickly taking over, “you coming?!!!” she asks softly, when you nod she screams and throws her arms around you “OH MY GOD!!!! AHHHH! YES GIRLLLL YESSSS WHAT MADE YOU CHANGE YOUR MIND?”

“Okay calm down!”

“Sorry” she takes a deep breath “I’m just soo excited” 

“Yea yea whats the dress code i mean can i show up in jeans or?” 

“Jeans girl really?” you shrug “You can or you can get a nice pretty dress stand out, get your hair done, nails?”

“So dress up is the dress code?” 

She shrugged “he never said just you know dress nice”

“I can dress nice in jeans”

“In a dress!” she stresses

“Fine” you weren’t going to argue your way through this party 

“Ooh girl, I can't wait to go shopping, let me call the girls and then we can plan to go out together!” she comments before returning to the stove.  You groan already regretting agreeing to go to this party.

The night of the party approaches quickly and you feel your stomach doing flips, it was too late to tell Harmony you changed your mind, you two were looking for a parking spot in the neighborhood, it seemed like half of south central had already showed up to the party. 

You don’t even know how time flew by so quickly, one minute you're in the chair getting your hair done, next thing you're putting on your lipstick, perfume, shoes, now walking towards the door. Watching as people poured in and out of the party. 

The chilly LA evening weather was much appreciated as you were not trying to arrive at the house with a thin layer of sweat on your body. Not after you've primped and primed the entire day. 

“HEEEEYYYYY!”  Harmony greets as you two walk in 

“MY BABY IS HERE!” Sean yells on top of his lungs

You stand back as you watch them greet

“Y/N?” you hear your name 

You turn to face one of Franklin's men “I’ll take your coat”  

“Oh you shrug off your trench coat.”

“I missed you baby” you hear harmony whine in a baby voice you can’t help but laugh 

The house was sorta full, you could still see across the room and make faces you knew that wouldn't be the case in the next hour or so. You just know the party was bound to get shut down

You step further in securing the coat check in your clutch. 

“Hey”  you greet Franklin

“Glad you could make it Y/N” he greets giving you a half hug, you quickly inhale his cologne he smelled good you make a quick note to yourself 

“Thanks for the invite, we brought you this” you say handing him a gift bag

“Oh shit you didn’t have to” he smiles at you

You shrug “well my mama said never show up to a person's house empty handed you know” 

He nods “what yall get me?” He asks trying to move the tissue paper around 

“Oh uh really good wine” 

“Expensive wine”  Harmony adds

“And some Bourbon” 

“Expensive bourbon” 

“Okay Harmony!” you look at her incredulously causing Franklin to chuckle

She chuckles “I’m fucking with you girl but”  she turns to face Franklin, “my cousin went around turn looking for the best wine for you”

“Oh word?” he turns to face you a bright smile on his face 

You feel yourself getting flustered “No I just” you feel yourself blushing “It's a gift and I  like to give good gifts” you defend, you don’t even know why you were blushing 

“That's true you ever want a good gift you ask her she’ll find some good shit” 

You smile “I’m gonna say hi to the girls and boys”  you say walking away from them

“Awkward ass” Harmony comments causing Franklin and Sean to burst out laughing. You throw your middle finger at her and keep walking

It wasn’t that you were purposely trying to impress Franklin, it was just a gift. What would it look like showing up with cheap wine and liquor when you kept hearing about the thousands he was moving weekly.He would probably be offended, you heard about his temper. 

1 hour you say to yourself as you made your way around the room, thats it thats how long you were staying 1 hour. You eventually find a small group of girls to talk to, avoiding Harmony and the rest as they were either in the circle with Franklin or right near it, in the center of the house. When you turn to look at that area you catch a glimpse of Tasha on Franklin's lap, with a flash she gets up and other women take a seat on his lap, you shake your head internally before returning to the conversation. 

The next time you look down at your watch you realise 2 hours had passed. It was already past 11pm and you should have been home by now. 

You quickly chug the water you have been drinking, (you weren’t gonna take risks drinking and driving) you slowly push your way through the massive crowd avoiding anyone from that group spotting you. Unbeknownst to you Franklin had his eye on you the entire night. He watched as you stood in the corner and talked to the girls, then back to the kitchen, bathroom, he even saw you spill water on yourself, he smiled slightly before returning to his conversation, no matter where you were tonight he made sure his eyes were on you. 

At one point you two make eye contact but you smile and quickly look away. Plus the comment Harmony made awhile back about him looking at you a certain way had you nervous being around the man, you can’t explain it you just wanted to get out of South Central unscathed and gaining the attention of Franklin wasn’t a plan. 

“Yea I’m leaving,”  you chuckle nervously while handing them the coat check

“Damn before New Years? it's gonna happen in like 40 minutes” 

“I know but I kinda wanna start getting home before traffic you know” you explain 

You already knew Harmony was gonna be with Sean tonight at his place you begged her to go to his instead of ruining your night with their sexcapeds gladly for you she agreed

He nodded in response “Yea that makes sense, LA traffic can get crazy” 

“Yea it can” You open your clutch to pull your keys but find nothing, you frantically push things around to see nothing, your lip gloss, napkins, mints and your wallet

“Shit” you say to yourself as you think back to the night? Did you leave them in the car? Are they with Harmony? Did they drop and you didn’t hear them? Your mind races trying to trace back the night. 

“Here you go” he says handing you your coat 

“Thanks”  

“Leaving so soon?”  you hear close to your ear from behind you, 

You instinctively tilt your head away, “Huh?”  as you continue to check the pockets quickly turning around slowly

You release your breath as you feel the keys in your coat pocket, you look up and see Franklin looking down at you smiling

“FUCK!”  you curse internally  “Heyyy” you smile quickly turning to glance at where he was to see if anyone else noticed. It was so packed now you couldn’t see past the sea of bodies now

“Leaving so soon?” he asks again pulling his hands behind his back 

You giggle nervously “Oh yea I don’t wanna get stuck in LA traffic”

He tilts his head slightly confused “But you just got here” 

“No i got here 2 hours ago” 

“I didn’t even get the chance to talk to you tonight” You make a face, he chuckles in response “I’m saying i wanted to catch up with you” he shrugs “we ain't really talked since highschool” 

“Oh” you shrug “nothing much going on with me” 

He smirks “Nah you more interesting than that, I aint even get the chance to tell you look good tonight yet,” You look down at your semi formal sweetheart dress, you were actually glad you agreed to dress up as many women were and you didn't’ want to be the odd one out actually even Franklin was dressed up suit tie the whole shebang

“Oh” you smile “thank you Franklin, you look good too clean up nice” 

He removes the coat from your hands gently “how about you stay a little longer?” he bargains

You chuckle nervously this could not be happening “Noo” you reach for the jacket but he puts it behind his back. “Franklin!”  you scold 

He smiles looking at you “comeon girl you can’t leave right before new years!” he argues 

“I don’t like driving at night. You know how the cops are? And its new years too!?” You catch his eyes drifting lower to your cleavage before making their way up to yours. You use that to your advantage and reach around but he quickly moves the jacket the opposite way

“Franklin!” you look towards where he was seating in the center of the house and see a very ugly mug on Tasha’s face and the other women seemed to share the same sentiment glaring in your direction 

“Come on its" he looks down at his watch, "only 30 more minutes, that can’t hurt” 

“No! Plus looks like Tasha is gonna kill you” you comment

“Tasha?”  he looks at where you tilted your head

“Oh shit!” he laughs “I don’t care about Tee” 

You cross your arms on your chest “Aren't you two dating?” 

“No!” 

“Mmmm well you might not be but she believes you two are and I need my coat Franklin” you open your hand out for him to give it to you

“I’ll take you home” 

“No how are you gonna get back here plus it's your party don’t be ridiculous!” 

“RIdiculous?” He guffaws  “I'm not the one leaving a new years party 30 minutes before new years that's the point of the party!” 

You huff and look up at the ceiling. You need to find a solution. You would leave the coat but it has your keys! He moves closer smiling at how flustered you were getting (“I just wanna go home”) you think to yourself, this shouldn’t be happening he should be dating Tasha. Why isn’t he? Weren't they over each other at the fair and tonight? What was this some freakyshit they were into or what?

“What is it?” He asks softly bringing your attention back to him, that damn smile, those dimples, nope no Y/N you need to go home

“Franklin I would like to go home please” 

“Y/N I told you I’ll take you home” 

“What about Tee?”

“Tee can get a ride home, why you keep brining her up?”

“Franklin”

“I’ll take you home. I promise”

“When?” 

“Right after the celebration is over!” he smiles slyly 

You frown “No thats like at 6am!” 

He chuckles you caught on quick “No give me till 1am at least” 

You contemplate no way you were getting the coat back that was for sure

“Fine you promise?” 

“I promise ima get Dreads or Mikey to take you”  You scoff “what?”

You  reach around and snatch your coat shocking him in the process

“No you said you were gonna take me home so you needed to take me home not punt me off to your men” you complain as you throw on your coat quickly 

He smiles at your brattiness “okay okay i will” he reaches for you

You move away from him “Nope i’m going home goodnight Franklin!” 

He sighs, “can you at least let me know you made it home safe?” 

“Fine i’ll page Tee” 

He  groans and you chuckle, he bites his bottom lip as he watches you walk away defiantly 

[midwestmade29]

Do You Wanna Build a Snowman? ☃️

Christmas writing prompt: #2 Playing in the snow together Word count: 739 Divider by: @firefly-graphics GIF by: @junglehooks Be sure to check out @madhatterbri's [full list] of Christmas and New Year writing prompts!

It’s my first Kenny Omega story guys! I’m so excited about it 🥳 I came up with this story idea not really having anyone in mind to write it about, but the more I thought about it…Kenny just made sense 🥰

All fluff for Kenneth Jerome 🙂

I adore him ❤️

You and Kenny Omega have fun playing in the snow together…

Kenny was used to the cold, having grown up in Winnipeg. No matter how low the temperature got, this man still thrived! The snow had really come down over night, fresh white powder coating every surface as far as the eye could see. Neither of you had anywhere to be today since your schedules allowed you to be home for the holiday! Kenny stood and looked out the window, an idea suddenly striking him. “Hey, Y/N! When was the last time you played in the snow?” He asked inquisitively. “What do you mean? Like, build a snowman or something?” “Yeah, exactly! Actually gone outside and enjoyed it. Snowball fight, sledding, snow angels, you name it! Let’s take advantage of the weather and have some fun!” His excitement was contagious, there was no way you could say no to him. “I haven’t done any of that since I was a kid. Let’s do it!”

Once the two of you were bundled up from your head to your toes, off you went! You stepped outside, the cool air kissing the bare parts of your face, making your eyes water a little bit. Kenny was a few steps ahead of you, eager to get this snow party started. “What do you want to do first, Y/N?” He asked as he sat down all the supplies he had collected from the house. Your heart melted at his eagerness, smiling at the pure joy on his face. “Um, why don’t we build a snowman first?” You suggested. Without missing a beat, Kenny grabbed everything you needed from the carrot nose to the black hat, and the pipe he took from a snowman decoration inside. You worked on rolling and packing the middle section of the snowman while Kenny worked on the base. The proportions were off between your two pieces, causing you to laugh at the very full bottom mixed with a skinny midsection. “I can’t wait to see how the rest of it turns out!”

“Would you do the honors?” Kenny asked as he handed you the final piece to the snowman. You smiled as you placed the black hat on top, completing your masterpiece. “So, what’s next?” you asked after kissing Kenny on the cheek. He advised you to stay where you are, chuckling to himself as he walked away. You thought he was just moseying through the stuff he had brought outside, but you were sadly mistaken when you felt the ice-cold snowball burst on your chest. “Hey!” you shouted in Kenny’s direction. “You’re going down, Omega!” Both of you landed several direct hits on one another with snowballs, even when you hid behind various objects around or used them as shields. The great snowball war eventually came to an end, and you and Kenny sat next to each other catching your breath. “Truce?” he asked while reaching his hand out for to you to shake. “Truce.” You happily agreed.

Sledding was next on the agenda, and thankfully no trip to the ER was necessary. During one trip down the hill, you ended up going a little faster than you anticipated, letting out a shriek in the process as you toppled off the sled towards the bottom. Kenny rushed over to you full of worry and was confused when he heard you laughing. “Are you okay?!” he asked as he knelt in the snow. “Never better!” you squeaked out through your laughter. Once Kenny finally exhaled, you grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him down to the ground, forcing him to join you on top of the wet snow. You started moving your arms and legs like you were doing jumping jacks while laying down, and Kenny followed your lead making the same motions. Neither of you got up to see how your snow angels turned out, only laid there next to each other before Kenny scooted closer and kissed you softly. “So, my little snow bunny, are you ready to go back inside?” he asked as he helped you to your feet. “Only if you promise to sit with me on the couch under a blanket.” Kenny kissed the tip of your nose and wrapped his arm around you as you made your way inside. When you snuck a quick glance up at him, he greeted you with a loving smile and you couldn’t help but wonder how you got so lucky to call this sweet kindred spirit yours.

[theteasetwrites]

Go With the Flow

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 3/4 Interim (The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning series) ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: menstrual blood, period, mentions of malnutrition/starvation, mild swearing ❧ Word Count: 5.2k

❧ Summary: Daryl doesn't know much about women. When you have your first period since the two of you got together, he's not so sure what to do for you, but he'll try his very best, that's for damn sure.

❧ A/N: Another oneshot from The Beginning universe! This one takes place during the prison era, after the Governor's first attack but before the incident with Jerome (see chapters 23-24). I wanted to write Daryl going on a little adventure to find period products for his gf. I also just know he would be so good to her. Oh, and I included Glenn and Tyreese too! I never see people writing about Tyreese, so I wanted to have a fun little mission with those guys. Also shout out if you can detect the subtle (or not so subtle?) It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia reference lmao.

Just a few weeks after the Governor had been defeated, and what was left of his former community sought shelter with your group at the prison, you’d begun keeping track of time again.

Your journal had been sitting at the bottom of your pack for a while, but with renewed hope and the beginning of what you believed would be a period of relative peace, you decided there was no better time to begin again. After all, if your group was trying to rebuild some kind of civilization, someone would have to write it all down, right?

When night fell and all the day’s duties of repairing and revamping the abandoned prison were done, you lit a few candles to illuminate the pages of your journal as you wrote, sitting snuggled up in bed and waiting for Daryl to return from his watch.

Trying to get the hang of writing again was difficult. It’d been so long since the simple act of holding a pen was an everyday, monotonous task instead of a luxury. You felt a calmness settle in your bones, realizing that just a month or so ago, you were on the road, foraging for berries and wondering which day would be your last. For once, the world of the dead felt completely removed from you, behind that sturdy fence. Maybe you’d never have to see blood again, you wondered, but of course, that was a little too optimistic.

Just then, in the middle of your musing, a dull pain seared in your abdomen. “Oh, God,” you mumbled, reaching down to rub your hand over your stomach. More uncomfortable strains developed there, and soon your back and thighs began to ache as well.

Your first fear was sickness, something akin to the flu. There was a bad cold that had gone around your group during the winter, but you had had that, and this was different. Then, there was the brief drop of your heart in your chest when you considered the fact that you could be pregnant. Granted, you and Daryl had been quite careful, always using some sort of protection or intervention to keep you from meeting the same fate as Lori.

Still, it was always a possibility, one that terrified you. Perhaps you wanted a baby with Daryl. He was sweet with little Judith, and someday, maybe when the prison would be safer, you’d like to consider the possibility with him, but not now. Certainly not now.

Your fears worsened when you noticed a tenderness in your breasts that night, and when the pain in your abdomen got worse, you gently cried into your pillow, sure to do so before Daryl came to bed. But then, you realized what it really must’ve been, though the phenomenon had, mercifully, avoided you for so long: period.

“Shit,” you mumbled to yourself. “That’s what it is.”

When you reached down to allow your fingers to graze underneath the front of your underwear, dark streaks of brownish crimson coated your fingertips. There was a sense of relief to this revelation. For one thing, you weren’t pregnant. That in itself was a cause to celebrate. Not only that, but finally, your body was healthy enough to start menstruating again. A year of constant near-starvation and malnutrition was what kept away the crimson tide for so long. Now, you were finally eating enough to kickstart the cycle again, but then again, the whole ordeal was, for lack of a better word, a major pain in the ass.

You rose from your bed quickly, lifting your nightshirt to examine your underwear—stained. You grabbed the nearest pair of pants, Daryl’s, to put on, and fast walked to Maggie’s cell in the hopes that she’d have something to help you, though you were already incredibly close to Maggie, and you knew she hadn’t had her period in almost a year either.

“Maggie,” you whispered from beyond the curtain of her cell, hoping you wouldn’t interrupt any intimate moments between her and Glenn. “Maggie,” you whispered again, with more insistence and frustration. “I need your help.”

A shirtless and half awake Glenn pulled back the curtain. He rubbed his eyes as he tried to find your face. “(Y/N)?” he asked. “You okay?”

You peered over his shoulder, trying to find your other friend in the darkness behind him. “I’m, uh… Where’s Maggie?”

Her face was soon illuminated by the light of the lantern she’d just lit. She sat up in bed, eying you with concern, and pulling a confused face at the baggy, holey jeans you were wearing. “Hey,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I just…” You looked between Glenn and Maggie. “I’m really sorry for waking you, but… Maggie, do you have any…” You mouthed the word tampons, in the hopes she’d be able to read your lips.

You knew that periods were nothing to be embarrassed about, as they were a natural part of life and a simple fact of owning a uterus, but you also knew men could be very squeamish about the whole ordeal. It was silly, since Glenn was like your brother, but force of habit told you to always expect men to be unforgiving and immature in regards to a woman’s period.

“Oh,” replied Maggie. “Um, I don’t… Haven’t started mine again yet.”

You nodded solemnly. “D-do you think anyone else might have them?” The longer you stood there, the more you feared you’d bleed through Daryl’s jeans. Not that they hadn’t been covered in blood before, but these ones were freshly laundered.

“Maybe some of the Woodbury folks?” she said.

In the darkness of the prison, you went on a brief mission to interview the few Woodbury women you had met, all of whom were either no longer having periods or hadn’t had the time to pack their pads and tampons before making the move to the prison. You were out of luck, and there was definitely no way of finding any female sanitation products in a former men’s correctional facility. No, it was clear—a run needed to be made.

In the meantime, you’d scurried off to the bathroom to create a makeshift pad out of toilet paper, layering several pieces of the one ply sheets along the crotch of your underwear, which had already become soaked through with menstrual blood, and the inside of Daryl’s jeans hadn’t been spared. “Shit!” you said to yourself. You felt like a twelve year old again, experiencing your very first period at school and leaking through your favorite beige corduroy pants. You remembered a few of the older boys making fun of you, calling you “Carrie” and making jokes about staying as far away from you as possible. You tried to laugh along, but it hurt.

With your lover’s jeans around pooled around your ankles and your underwear halfway up your thighs, you leaned against the open bathroom stall as you tried with all your might to will away the horrific cramps that had come back with a vengeance.

Your brief period of contemplation was interrupted by a heavy push of the door as some unseen person entered the room. Your eyes darted open as you quickly latched the stall shut, intending to preserve your dignity.

You couldn’t see the person’s shoes, but when you heard the sound of pants unzipping, then the loud stream of urine hitting the porcelain of the urinal, you knew it was a man.

And when he let out a short, familiar grunt, you knew it was your man, making his usual stop in the bathroom before he would head to your cell for the night.

You sighed and felt a bit of relief—at least it wasn’t just some guy, and you were in need of a bit of comfort.

“Daryl,” you peeped quietly, still locked in the stall.

He lifted his gaze from the urinal, and he wondered at first if maybe he was so tired that he was imagining your voice, but when he turned to see your fuzzy pink slippers in the stall, he knew you were really there.

“(Y/N)?” he asked, a slight chuckle to his gruff, tired voice. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Nothing,” you answered, still holding your head against the stall door. “I don’t feel good.”

He tilted his head and sighed, getting slightly worried now. “What’s wrong?” You were silent for a moment, until you doubled over in pain, holding your belly as another cramp hit.

“Ah,” you hissed.

He came closer to the stall, zipping up his pants. “Why don’t ya come out,” he said. “You got me worried now.”

Unlatching the lock, you pulled back the stall door slowly to reveal your uncomfortable state. Bloated, bleeding, and about ready to pass out from the pain.

In your emotional turmoil, you stepped forward to fall into his arms, squeezing him tight and breathing a big sigh into his neck. He didn’t hesitate to hold you, rubbing your back up and down. The warmth of his abdomen touching yours soothed your pain for a moment, but the cramps were too strong. You’d suspect it would only get worse, since usually the second day of your period was the worst.

“I started my period,” you mumbled into his shoulder. “My cramps are so bad… I—I don’t even have any pads or anything. I feel awful.”

He turned to face you, a little confused. He had just assumed you’d been having periods since he’d known you. He didn’t know when, or how you dealt with them, but he just assumed you did. After all, he didn’t know much about periods—he grew up with one brother and a dad who didn’t care enough about women to tell Daryl anything about them. His mother died when he was five years old. You were, in general, the first woman he’d ever known so well. Sure, he’d had meaningless drunken trysts with random women before, but he hardly remembered any of that, and besides, he only knew those women for approximately one night. Not enough time to figure out their menstrual cycles.

“You ain’t been havin’ ‘em?” he asked.

You furrowed your brow and scoffed, irritated by the assumption. “No, Daryl. Don’t you know anything about periods?”

He should’ve, he knew that, but he didn’t. He hadn’t had the time to figure that out, not with everything else he’d been doing. Still, he knew that, as a man who loved a woman, he should know everything about her, including her cycle.

“I’m an idiot,” he said bluntly. “Sorry, I—I don’t know nothin’.”

You sighed and rubbed your head, trying to not lose your patience. The pain of the relentless cramps was really getting to you, and the uncomfortable pooling of blood on the flimsy makeshift pad made you even more irritable. You could feel the blood flowing out of you.

“You’re not an idiot,” you said. “I’m sorry, I…” You searched his face to see if he really didn’t know anything about periods. He didn’t, you could tell. Daryl was not an idiot, like you said, but there were things he didn’t know. He could learn easily, picking things up very quickly, but education had failed him in many ways. Growing up in the rural south in the 1970s and 1980s didn’t help much—biology wasn’t top priority, especially not women’s biology.

“When… women are malnourished,” you said, “our bodies go into, like, survival mode. That affects our cycle, and we sometimes don’t have periods because our bodies are working hard to do other things, so it gets put on the back burner until we’re getting more nutrition again… Does that make sense?”

You were a librarian, not a doctor, so you didn’t have an expert-level grasp on the whole thing, but you knew that was why you hadn’t had your period in so long.

“Uh, yeah,” he said. “I think so… Why’re you wearin’ my pants, though?”

You laughed as you followed his gaze to his ripped jeans hanging on your body. “Oh… They were the closest pants I could find. Sorry, I think I might’ve, um… There might be a little blood on them. I’m really sorry, honey. I’ll clean them.”

He shook his head. “It’s okay, there’s blood on all my clothes.”

“It doesn’t gross you out?”

“Does it look like anythin’ grosses me out?” he asked. “‘Sides, nothin’ about you is gross. Not even your—”

He stopped himself before he said the first thing that came to mind: pussy blood.

“I just wanna take care of you,” he continued, cupping your cheek with his hand. “What do ya need, angel? I’ll do anythin’ for ya.”

Daryl was every woman’s dream man, that was for sure.

“Well, um… Would you mind maybe going on a run tomorrow? I mean, you don’t have to, but if you could get some pads or tampons, that’d really help me a lot. I’m kind of just free-bleeding right now.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that. First thing in the mornin’.”

You shook your head in disbelief. Maybe you were so used to having low expectations for men, but Daryl was a totally different caliber of man—he was a knight in shining armor, at least to you.

“Really?” you asked. “Are you sure? Is it too much trouble?”

He scoffed and kissed your forehead. “What kinda man would I be if I didn’t get my woman what she needs? ‘Sides, it’s the least I can do.”

You smiled and kissed his cheek, then wrapped your arms tight around his neck. “Thank you,” you said. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

He tried his best that night to make you comfortable, laying down a towel in case you bled through his pants (which he let you keep on) to preserve your sheets. Your cramps were relentless, but soon you fell asleep, and in the morning, Daryl moved carefully so as not to wake you.

He did, however, gently kiss your forehead, which stirred you from your sleep. “Mm… Daryl?”

“Shhh,” he said, holding his finger to his lip. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be back ‘fore noon. Promise.”

You awoke with a neediness that you were sure would soon morph into irritability, but all you could think about was him holding you a little longer.

“Okay,” you sighed, reaching out to hold his hand. “Thanks, again. You’re so good to me.”

He smiled and kissed your lips, innocently, but still passionately enough to elicit a heavenly sigh from you. “Just doin’ my job. I love you.”

“Love you, and be careful. Don’t get yourself hurt because of me and my uterus.”

He adjusted the pack on his back before lifting his crossbow with a grunt. “That’d be the best reason to get hurt,” he said, turning to peel back the curtain of the prison cell. Before he left, he turned once more, asking a rather important question. “What kind do I get?”

You furrowed your brow. “What kind?”

“Yeah, what kinda tampons? Or pads or whatever.” In truth, his grasp of the difference between the two was shaky at best.

“Oh, um… Super is fine.”

“For both?��

“Yes. Super absorbent.”

He nodded, trying to input that information in his brain. “Does the, uh, brand matter?”

“No, Daryl,” you laughed. “Whatever you can find. And if you can, bring a lot back, for Maggie and everyone else. As many as you can find.”

Thus, the mission was afoot.

He began tuning up his bike at dawn, making sure it was ready to go. He’d almost finished with his maintenance when he heard footsteps and a familiar presence coming towards him. He raised his head from his work to meet Glenn’s gaze. He was wearing his pack and his gear, all the things he took with him for runs.

“Hey,” the younger man said, raising his hand to wave at Daryl. “What’s up?”

“Not much,” replied Daryl, wiping his hands of the grease that had accumulated there. “Boutta head out. Quick run.”

Glenn’s eyes narrowed curiously. “Hey, me too. What are you getting?”

Daryl huffed. Glenn always liked to talk a lot more than he did. He liked the guy, though. He had to admit, when he first met Glenn, he thought you and he were together, and though Daryl didn’t outrightly know it, he was quite irrationally jealous for a short period of time. Now he was family.

“Woman stuff,” he said. “Tampons, pads… For (Y/N).”

“Ohhh,” replied Glenn. “That makes sense. She asked Maggie for some last night. Well, hey, I was gonna go out looking for some, too. I figured if (Y/N)’s starting hers then Maggie won’t be far behind. They… sync up.”

“Sync up?”

“Yeah. Anyway, we should combine forces.”

Daryl scoffed as he stuffed his red rag in his back pocket. “It’s an easy run. Don’t need more manpower.”

“Come on, think about it. Always good to have someone watching your back, and you’re not a strategist. You’re the muscle. Every mission needs brains and brawn… I mean, you have both but…” Glenn trailed off, fearing he’d make a fool of himself. “Anyway, let me help. Besides, I can't let you get all the glory.”

Daryl held up his hands, as if in slightly amused defeat. “Fine. You take the truck, I'll take the bike.”

“Cool.”

Just then, another, much bigger, figure emerged, coming towards Glenn and Daryl. “Hey, Tyreese,” said Glenn to the man. “What are you doing up this early?”

Daryl took note of Tyreese’s appearance—he, too, was dressed for a mission.

“Oh, uh, Karen needs some stuff,” he said. “She says her time of the month’s coming soon… Where are you guys going?”

Daryl’s eyes trained on Glenn, knowing what he was going to say. “No way,” he said. “Already two of us.”

Besides, neither of them knew Tyreese well. He’d just arrived from Woodbury, and though so far he seemed trustworthy, Daryl was a hard nut to crack when it came to being friendly towards “outsiders.”

“Think about it,” Glenn repeated. “I’m the brains, you’re the muscle, and Tyreese, you’re the…” He trailed off, trying to figure out a role for Tyreese within the group. “You’re the…”

“Wild card,” said Tyreese, a friendly smile cracking on his face.

“Yeah, sure. Wild card.” He turned back to Daryl. “So what do you think?”

“Think we’re burnin’ daylight,” he said. “Come on, let’s get back ‘fore noon. Ain’t got all day to sit and chat.”

Despite Daryl’s insistence that his original plan to raid the nearest Piggly Wiggly would suffice, Glenn drew up a new plan, which involved extensive coverage of several supermarkets, pharmacies, and gas stations within the surrounding area. This would account for a lack of pads or tampons at any one location, and would likely yield the highest bounty.

With Daryl leading the way on his bike, and Glenn and Tyreese following in the truck, the three men embarked on their mission, first going to the furthest destination, then planning on working their way back.

First stop was the pharmacy, in some little town on the outskirts of the county in which the prison was located.

It was a family-owned joint, with a pretty good padlock on the door and no signs of breaking in—that was good.

Glenn knocked on the glass door, then they waited for a minute or two, hoping any walkers inside would be attracted to the sound. “Nothing,” he said.

“All right.” Daryl opened the bolt cutters, ready to clip the chain. “Ready?”

Tyreese held his hammer high, and Glenn readied his knife. “Ready,” they both replied.

He snapped the chain and let it fall to the asphalt, then after one last moment to wait for any walkers to show themselves, they headed in.

Tyreese nailed two walkers who’d been holed up in the janitor’s closet, and Glenn made a beeline to the feminine hygiene section, with Daryl following close behind.

“Nice,” said Daryl, nodding as he chewed the inside of his lip. He found himself in a cluttered aisle with the two other men, standing dumbfounded as they examined the myriad of options presented before them.

No one spoke for a while, perhaps because they were each thinking of which products to get, or because they were too embarrassed to be the first one to say, “I have no idea what I’m looking at.”

Finally, Tyreese spoke: “Ultra thin, maxi, super maxi, with wings, without wings, panty liners, overnight, regular, heavy flow… Damn.”

“And those are just the pads,” said Glenn. He gestured to the left, where the tampons were. “We got those too.”

Daryl chewed his lip, shining his flashlight back and forth over every feminine hygiene product on the shelf. He’d always been told women were complicated, though he hadn’t found that to be the case. They weren’t any more complicated than men, but maybe the only complicated thing about them was just how many goddamn options they had for tampons.

“We should get a little bit of everything,” said Daryl. “Maybe even take it all…” He re-examined the shelves, noticing a lot of empty space—it looked like the place had been looted before the chains were put on the door. “We’re gonna need to stop again.” He pulled a box of tampons off the shelf, and proceeded to open it to dump its content into his pack. “Don’t need the boxes,” he said. “Takes up room. Dump ‘em.”

They did the same with the pads, and soon their packs were each halfway full of an assortment of pads and tampons.

There were three more stops, each yielding a sizable amount of pads and tampons, so much so that Daryl had to find some crates to fill up, once their packs became too overfilled.

Finally, the last stop was a small grocery store not too far from the prison. The closer they got to home, the more Daryl felt relief. He’d been worrying a little too much about you, slightly irrationally afraid that you’d bleed to death, even though he knew such a thing was impossible. He didn’t really like the idea of you bleeding at all though, so he simply couldn’t help but worry.

The last location proved particularly bountiful, with plenty of feminine hygiene products to choose from. Of course, they chose all of them, scooping the packages into their arms and dumping them into the crates, then taking them back out to stuff them in the remaining empty space of the bed of the truck.

Daryl dusted off his hands when he loaded the last of the crates into the truck. He felt accomplished, and quite satisfied with the mission. He wouldn’t have been able to bring back this much if it hadn’t been for Glenn and Tyreese, so he’d have to thank them later, when they got back home. Daryl had a self-enforced policy: never say thank you until it’s done, and they weren’t done yet—they still had to get back home.

“Hey, Daryl,” said Tyreese, helping to strap down the crates to secure them. “You think we’re gonna be heroes when we get back with all these things?”

Daryl scoffed as he jumped out of the bed, then turned to close the tailgate. “Think my woman needs somethin’, I get it for ‘er. Don’t gotta be a hero to do that.”

Tyreese exchanged a smirk with Glenn, and Daryl felt their interaction behind his back, until they broke out into mutual laughter, amused at the usually stoic man’s undying loyalty to you. “What’s so damn funny?” he asked.

“Nothing. Well, I think we’re heroes,” said Glenn. “Got our ladies their tampons.”

“And back before lunch,” added Tyreese.

“Yeah, well—” Daryl’s voice was interrupted by a snarl, as a small herd of walkers came lumbering forward, their rotting heads popping up from beyond the nearby hill seemingly out of nowhere. “Shit.”

Daryl hurriedly strapped on his crossbow as he spoke. “Let’s get outta here,” he said. “We’ll lose ‘em ‘fore we get back.”

“Right,” agreed Glenn. “Come on.”

Daryl hopped on his bike, starting it up and waiting for Glenn and Tyreese to start up the truck. He nervously tapped the handle of his bike, watching the dozen or so walkers stumble closer.

He heard the engine sputtering, struggling to come to life. “Come on!” he shouted back.

Glenn poked his head out the open window of the driver’s side. “It’s not starting!”

Daryl turned back to face the walkers, now within just a few yards. “Shit!” He removed the key from the ignition and hopped off the bike, grabbing his knife and quickly taking out a few walkers.

Soon, Tyreese was running out the passenger side door of the truck, hammer held high as he came to Daryl’s aid. “Shit, they came out of nowhere!”

“I know!” replied Daryl. “Glenn!”

“Working on it!” He was fiddling with some wires under the hood of the truck, frantically looking up every few seconds to make sure he was clear.

“Work faster!” Tyreese added. More walkers started to follow, and soon Daryl and Tyreese were surrounded, with Daryl’s bike close by.

With their backs pressed to each other, Daryl kicked a few walkers away to clear his path to his bike. “Come on,” he said. “Get on the bike.”

He wasn’t entirely sure how Tyreese would fit on the back of his bike (he’d only ever had you, Maggie, and Carol on the back, and Tyreese was quite a bit bigger than all of you), but it was the safest way to get out of the crowd.

The bike roared to life, and Tyreese nailed a few walkers in the head with his hammer as he climbed onto the bike. “Go!”

Daryl punched the gas pedal and zipped through the crowd, while Tyreese killed any walkers that got too close for comfort.

Luckily, the walkers hadn’t yet got to Glenn, who was still trying to get the truck to work when Daryl and Tyreese got to him. Hopping off the back of the bike, Tyreese looked back to see the small herd stumbling around a cage of propane tanks about a quarter of a mile away.

Tyreese looked between Glenn’s nimble, but struggling, fingers and the incoming herd. He quickly retreated to the passenger side door to locate the rifle they’d brought along, just in case. This was a “just in case” situation, he figured.

While Daryl shot his bow to take down the nearest walkers, Tyreese had another plan.

With most of the herd still lumbering around the tanks, he held up the rifle and aimed. Perhaps it was a long shot, but when a rather loud, slightly earth-shaking explosion nearly knocked all three men to the ground, it seemed to have worked.

“Holy shit!” yelped Glenn. Daryl only gaped in breathless confusion, having not even noticed the other man had grabbed the gun.

Only a few unburnt stragglers remained, with the rest of the herd now charred to a crisp and too weak to lift themselves from the flames of the burning wreckage.

“Damn,” said Daryl, holding his hand to his forehead as he blocked the sunlight from his view. “I didn’t even think of that.”

“Wild card,” replied Tyreese.

It was almost noon now, and you hadn’t bothered to get out of bed, except to replace your stained through underwear every once in a while, until you were down to your last clean pair.

The nice thing about the security of the prison, along with the basic necessities of having a roof over your head and walls to keep out the dead, was that you could sleep in much more than you could on the road. You supposed that if there was any time you could get your period, you were glad it was now.

Still, you worried when your watch struck twelve and Daryl still hadn’t returned. You made a promise to yourself to wait at least another half an hour before getting up to go looking for him. Your cramps only worsened in the meantime, and when he finally did pull back the curtain to your cell, he found you curled up in a fetal position, trying to find the most comfort possible in your terribly uncomfortable state.

“(Y/N)?”

Your head had been tucked under the covers, where you hoped to block out all sensory exposure for a moment. “Daryl?” you croaked. “Oh, I was starting to worry.”

You sat up with a hiss as another cramp surged through you. “God,” you huffed. “Worst cramps I’ve ever had… Did you happen to find any pads or tampons?”

He smiled a little, then you noticed what he was holding. He proudly held out an overflowing crate of all different types of pads and tampons, one that he’d made sure to reserve just for you when him and the others were unloading. Of course, it had your tea in it, too.

“Oh, wow!” you laughed. “That’s amazing! You didn’t have to get that much for me.”

He shrugged as he set down the crate by the bed, then sat himself on the edge to place his comforting hand on your thigh. “There’s plenty more where that came from. Glenn and the new guy, Tyreese, they helped, too. Was no sweat.”

You tilted your head with a glimmer in your eyes, the kind of sparkle only a particularly bewitching person could elicit. “You’re my hero.” He laughed in surprise when you flung your arms around his neck and brought him in for a tight hug. It felt so good to have him back, even if he was just gone for a few hours. It meant the world to have him by your side, comforting you, even if he didn’t know a thing about what you were experiencing. At least he was there.

“Ain’t no hero,” he said softly over your shoulder. Though he had to admit, it was quite nice to know you thought of him like that. “Told ya, I���d do anything for you. This is just a little thing… If you asked me to bring ya back the Holy Grail, I’d do it.”

You laughed and shook your head to face him, with your hands cupping his infectiously rising cheeks. His crooked, boyish smile changed the shape of his face so handsomely. His high, elf-like cheekbones fit perfectly in your palms, like they were made for you.

“The Holy Grail isn’t real,” you said.

“I’d make it real for you,” he said. “‘Sides… you’re my Holy Grail.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at the predictable line. He was always saying stuff like that to you, even if he wouldn’t be caught dead doing it for anyone else.

“Okay, Casanova,” you laughed. “Hand me one of those tampons. My favorite pink panties are getting ruined.”

He huffed and turned to sort through the crate. “Love it when you talk dirty to me,” he said.

So Daryl felt accomplished, having risked life and limb for his true love, doing his part to make her just a little more comfortable. Maybe he didn’t see himself as a hero, but you’d dealt with men who could care less about such things, and be downright heartless when it came to the monthly plight of the woman. To you, he was so much better, and he’d proven that, not for the first time, and most certainly not for the last.

~

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[justtrashperson]

I have this in my folders for months, and after doing Preston's design my body decided to physically stop me from continuing for now askjsak

but anyway, 1/2 Pack lineup! these are my designs for them!

[the-peddito-and-the-doise-show]

WELCOME TO… THE PEDDITO AND DOISE SHOW!

That’s right! Live on the official DTV channel, you’ll be greeted to the most totally original hosts (and rivals) of the hour you’ve ever seen! They’ll be both answering questions you viewers can send right now while dealing with (and try to brutally murder) each other’s antics, so you can expect things to get quite wacky around here!

Doisey is an adorable little fella of the bunch that was newly hired for his ecstatic and charming personality! He tries his best to help with production, being the best cheerleader we have! (Though it’s the only one we have). To tell you the truth, we have no idea on where he came from. One day he just appeared out of nowhere just standing in front of DTV HQ’s doors. Though he does coincidentally look like The Doise, so we kept him for good measure.

Pizzamancer is The Doise’s assistant and servant, being an ancient medieval wizard able to perform the dark arts of magic. He’s mostly grumpy most of the time being regulated to work for a lowly bootlegger—I mean, delightful boss, due to his magic being used to do simple niche tasks, and not the things he truly desires to accomplish. Fun Fact: he’s the great ancestor to Pizzaface, as you can tell by his looks!

And now, meet Doisette! The Doise’s sassy and gothic girlfriend, being completely polar opposites! She looks like she can pack a punch—and she can, being able to fight for herself whenever she’s in trouble. You’ll have to be patient with her though, as she’s pretty rude whenever she’s around other people. But, just look at her smile! Isn’t she cute when she does that?

Now let’s move on to the…

PEDDITA AND DOISE-CHAN SHOW!

An exclusive program only on DTV Channel, this Japanese magical girl anime stars two feminine gal pals who often battle each other in dangerous scenarios. Who would win in this grueling conflict: the ghostly yet deadly and powerful Peddita, or the dramatic yet skillful and cunning stuntwoman Doise-Chan? Find out soon!

When they’re not on the screen, they actually do act like this in real life, except they’re friendly rivals instead. They’re also free to answer questions just like their USA counterparts!

How could we forget the bestest pals of Peddito & Doise? Coming from the abysmal White Void, they’re all so curious on how things work around here—so welcome them around, dear viewers! They’ve got all their own unique personalities, interests, and talents that are just a hoot! (The others are not here because Cement’s busily eating cheese somewhere else, Nick is in timeout corner, and Jerome is refreshing up the place).

…why don’t you ask him yourself and find out?

The Doise’s delicate origins, now differentiated as a separate clone from the one in charge! Sporting an entirely new look patterned by several different colorful hues, and a big dopey wide grin, it’s great to kick back into the good ol’ days once in a while! Rules:

No NSFW or sexual questions. No bullying, trolling, and harassing the one behind this blog. Please be respectful around here.

C’mon! Pick up the remote, and watch the Peddito and Doise show!