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me: *has all the muse for glenn*

also me: *dealing with more hours at work*

also also me: *not in a good place mentally rn*

also also also me: *tired and stressed from work*

but still me: *has all the muse for glenn*

—

that would be why i haven’t done anything dash-related and kinda’ hide in my dms. i’m not the type of person who likes to reblog pics and musings when i’m not writing either. sorry for the slow restart here, but... i’m not feeling great and i refuse to write half-ass replies and starters just to be “fast”, lol. 🙃

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WHAT COLOR IS YOUR SOUL MARK?

Never short of affection, patience, or understanding, those with a pink soul color are energetic and respected. They are seen as nurturing individuals, and they attract many people who feel misguided in life. They tend to always find the good in every situation and inspire others to do the same.

Pink soul colors are highly in tune with their emotions and the emotions of others. They believe all feelings should be acknowledged and dealt with in a healthy manner. They look out for those who don’t look out for themselves, often spreading themselves thin and crashing in the process.

While friendly, this color is introverted and shies away from social gatherings. However, it’s not uncommon for them to accompany a friend out into a social situation or be a wingman if needed. Their friend circle comes first and foremost, whether it be large or small, and they will attempt to make time for everyone even if they are spent.

This color is also drawn to doubt and question if they’re doing enough. They like to conform and know that they are accepted. This leads them to try and be something they’re not, and they often grow disappointed or disgusted with themselves should they deceive themselves and others for too long. They are also bad at keeping promises, setting goals they can’t achieve, and unintentionally disappointing those they wanted to impress.

TAGGED BY: No one. I stole it. TAGGING:  @couldntfindanybullets​ | @furysname​ | @miggywee​ | @nebraskaseemsnice​ | @noexceptions​ | anyone who still hasn’t done it!

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⊰ ✦ ⊱ ◦ @survivors-of-the-outbreak​

Scavenging was a job best done alone. Or, at least, that’s how Glenn felt as Shane trailed close behind (almost too close, or maybe that was just his nerves playing tricks). If someone were to ask him why, he’d ramble in that sheepish-yet-somehow-still-slightly-smarmy way that only he could pull off, going on about knowing his way around and being light on his feet, quiet, fast; like a sneaky rogue in all those video games he liked to waste his days away playing. Rarely was his presence ever detected, even by the living. And yet, if someone were to pay close attention, they’d eventually see that Glenn wasn’t being entirely honest, that discomfort shone clearly in his eyes, the tension of his shoulders, his movements. The air around camp hadn’t changed at all after the information of his past was leaked, that in his old thieving days he’d sold stolen cars, parts, scraps for a quick buck and a thrill (there were people who’d done far worse or just didn’t care now, after all). Even if the world had recently fallen into disarray, though, that didn’t mean it wouldn’t stutter back to life soon. With cops like Shane, there was no doubt that in the newfound lawlessness of the world, they would still uphold some semblance of the law from the past. Try as he might to tell himself that the elder didn’t give care one way or another, his overthinking led him to believe there had to be some reason as to why it was just the two of them out here instead of just him by himself. Even T-Dog’s or Daryl’s company would’ve made more sense. ❝ The first seven, eight houses I already cleared, ❞ he quickly informed as they breached the trees that flanked the backside of the neighborhood. The only sound following their footsteps were cicadas, buzzing in rhythm with the heatwaves beating down their backs. Though the area felt and looked dead, there was still possibility that the dead themselves were still mindlessly lurking past every door, even if he hadn’t seen any during his last outing. Between them, Glenn felt the need to fill the silence. A lot. And awkwardly. ❝ We can probably pull double that today, yeah? I mean, you can easily carry more stuff than me. You’d be surprised how much crap everyone’s left behind. I’ve even started grabbing things we don’t need, like last time I was out, I got candy for Sophia, mags for Amy and Andrea... I guess it’s okay to give everyone their little comforts. Makes things seem normal-ish again. ❞

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   the   walking   dead         roleplay   masterlist

r e b l o g   t h i s   p o s t   t o   b e   a d d e d    t o   a   m a s t e r l i s t   o f   T W D   r o l e p l a y e r s ! ( s h o w   ,   s p i n o f f s   ,   o r   c o m i c s   w e l c o m e )

t a g   w i t h   :

c h a r a c t e r   n a m e   |   c a n o n / O C  |  s i n g l e / m u l t i m u s e

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uualkerbait‌:

I really miss writing Glenn since he’s one of my ultimate favorite characters, but I’m not sure if I want to just revamp this blog or make a brand new one. EDIT; T B Q H, I’m mostly itching to write, like… everything from the start. Full-on just jump into season 1, maybe season 2, and have a really, really long and really, really epic plot. 

I’ll probably delete both of these posts later, but after thinking it over (and not really vibing with the Discord RP servers I found), I’m going to just revamp here, even if the fandom’s kinda’ dead and most of my followers are inactive and I’m speaking into the void—

[uualkerbait-blog]

I really miss writing Glenn since he’s one of my ultimate favorite characters, but I’m not sure if I want to just revamp this blog or make a brand new one. EDIT; T B Q H, I’m mostly itching to write, like... everything from the start. Full-on just jump into season 1, maybe season 2, and have a really, really long and really, really epic plot. 

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⊰ ✦ ⊱ ◦ KAL

    “𝓞nly thing we would have to worry about is walkers. I miss those days.” Kal sighed heavily as he continued walking alongside Glenn to the trailer. “I mean, I was at a FEMA camp before this, and then came here when that place crapped out. So I haven’t moved around too much, luckily. I think you guys have moved around a bit from place to place– that must have sucked.”

❝ Really? A FEMA camp? Wow... ❞ Brows and ears mildly perked at the mention. The first impression he’d gathered from Kal had been serious and reserved, and this added another layer: intense. Glenn jumped to the conclusion the other potentially worked for FEMA based on said impressions alone, a little too tired to mentally argue with himself that it maybe wasn’t the case. Thoughts immediately shifted back to himself and his own time on the road, taken aback at the recollection of how much time had passed, the reaction evident as he spoke. ❝ Yeah, yeah... Most of us started in Atlanta, down in Georgia. Then we crawled all the way up here, thinking— ❞ A scoff interrupted as he remembered Eugene’s lie, chasing after it like some dump pipe-dream. ❝ Anyway, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss the earlier days. People were easier to handle too. ❞

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⊰ ✦ ⊱ ◦ RICK

for @uualkerbait​ from here

It wasn’t often Rick let slip the consequence of the heavy burdens he inflicted on himself. And it was, in fact, self inflicted. For, surrounding him at every turn, there was someone reaching out to present a helping hand. A reminder that he wasn’t in this alone. A promise that, when the weight got to heavy to bear, when his knees were cracking under the pressure, there was someone who would shoulder the weight along side of him.

Nevertheless, the small voices that haunted him at night argued that he needed to be the protector. He needed to be the savoir. This responsibility was his. And as long as it remained his, no one else would have to face the repercussions. 

‘You’ve always done right for us, even when it was hard.’

At Glenn’s words, Rick combed his fingers through his hair, shaking his head. Blue eyes slipped close as he contemplated his response. He knew that he’d made many mistakes and had cost them all things they’d never get back. However, hearing that the other man had faith in him brought quiet to the buzzing anxiety and stress that constantly plagued him.

Rick was hoarse with exhaustion when he spoke. “Before, with the Govenor. With Terminus…I saw an end. I could visualize what it would look like. Glenn I–” He lowered his voice. “I don’t see myself making it out of this. Carl he..” Unable to finish he turned, meeting Glenn’s gaze with a searching one in his own. 

Lips parted, but there was nothing he could say in that moment. Nothing that he thought could bring down that level of pain a notch. But Rick had been there for him, always by his side, so he had to try, right? ❝ Hey, hey... ❞ he murmured, inching closer and bringing his hands up to rest upon Rick’s shoulders. ❝ Listen, if anyone’s gonna make it to the end, it’s you. ❞ They had made it this far together, they couldn’t drop all they’d worked for now. They couldn’t falter in the face of death, not yet. There was a war still to be won, and when they finally did, then they could take the time to mourn, to breathe, to rebuild. It was easier said than done, and a lot to ask for, but Glenn needed his friend to see what they could have, even if just for a little while longer.  ❝ You know you don’t have to make these decisions on your own. We’re family, remember? ❞ A tired smile rose, but it was one that was true; one that showed he had faith in whatever future they could scrape back once the fighting was done. ❝ And Carl—Carl, he—let him be the one who guides you to the end. Don’t let that be in vain. ❞

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⊰ ✦ ⊱ ◦ SHANE

in the brief silence between the pair as shane awaits an answer, his hands find his hips, an expectant expression on his face as he gazes on at glenn.  what had been happening right under their noses is unacceptable, and shane intends on acting upon it whether his group agrees with the notion or not.  they can’t be sleeping right next to walkers.  the geeks need to be put down to keep his people from getting harmed.  what happens if they break the damn wood down in the middle of the night?  what if they wandered into rick’s tent?  carl…  he just isn’t having it.  upon offering to put a stop to it, relieve some of the tension, shane had expected gratitude, maybe a measly thank you.  what he got was nothing short of fidgety, and his hands dropped as his head craned back; confusion is painted all over his face.

“hell’s wrong with you, man?”  he asks, though the amusement he begins to feel is poking out from his voice, regardless of how he tried to hide it.  “i’m talkin’ ‘bout the barn, the walkers.  hershel don’t want us goin’ in there, and i know you an’ maggie got a thing goin’ on.  caught between a rock and a hard place.  didn’t think offerin’ a little help was such a big deal.”

then he’s chuckling, swatting glenn on the arm as he stares at him narrowly.  it’s a wonder how he managed to land the greene girl.  he likes glenn, he does.  he especially likes giving him a hard time for the sake of teasing, he just doesn’t seem like a lady’s man.  back in the days of youth, he knew plenty of glenns – nerdy, shy, jumpy.  maggie must be into the squirrelly types.

❝ Could be a little more specific next time... ❞ he scowled, rubbing his arm where he’d been hit. Then, under his breath, he mumbled, ❝ Trying to give someone a heart attack... ❞ At least his mind and nerves were at ease now. He’d been right in his second assumption. Shane needing help with the walkers in the barn was less stressful than the hint of something more... indecent. But the more he truly began to think of the potential task, the more the stress began to build anyway. Maybe his preference for what Shane wanted was nothing. Nothing would’ve been good. ❝ I dunno, man. On one hand, I agree with you. It’s too dangerous. Something needs to be done. And something legit—I’m not doing anything stupid like going down the well! ❞ Briefly his eyes widened, giving an accusatory point. While it had really been everyone’s collective idea, it was Shane who pushed, who tied him up and promised to get him out, who then threw him to the ground (a habit, it seemed). His attention shifted toward the barn, eyeing it contemplatively and loosely crossing his arms over his chest. If it were up to him, he would one-hundred percent back up Shane’s idea. Once the barn had been cleared, they could all live in there instead of out in the elements. Fall would be coming soon. He could feel it in the air at night, and no one wanted to be camping outside once the temperature began to drop. Yet Glenn was (almost always) the type to clearly see the two sides of the same coin and weigh out potential options and consequences. ❝ The problem is... It’s not our place. If it was abandoned when we got here or whatever, then sure, we’d have free reign. But we don’t. ❞ his voice carried disappointment, slightly aimed at himself for even brining it up. It only served to make him more weary of it all, wanting to instead hide out in Maggie’s room, even with her dad dirty-eyeing him all the time. ❝We’re just guests, and ones that Hershel’s kinda’ starting to get tired of. So... yeah. We could kill the walkers, and it might not even make a difference. We’d probably be back on the road. ❞ One brow rose as he shot an expectant look toward Shane, mild sarcasm evident as he asked, ❝ Wanna just flip a coin? ❞

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⊰ ✦ ⊱ ◦ AARON

Look dropping in faux offense, aaron took a small step back. “Well what’s wrong with that name? Maggie said she’d think about it anyways. ” he holds the act for a few beats longer before another smile stretches across his face ((there’s really no stopping it even if he tried)).

“What I DO know is boy or girl, they’re going to be absolutely adorable–so tell her to hurry up already.”

❝ Ahh, I’ll see what I can do, but you can’t come at me when Maggie’s got you cornered, asking what you want with the baby. Might think you’re planning on keeping it, making an army of little Aarons and Erins. Nobody needs that. ❞ Then he laughed, and he couldn’t remember the last time he actually did so freely; unconfined, loud, relaxed. It felt good, the newfound warmth it provided, and knowing there was a newfound friend to share it with. Abruptly he cut himself off, expression dropping and tone serious as he asked, ❝ Real talk, though, would you be mad if we named her Erica instead? ❞

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⊰ ✦ ⊱ ◦ BETH

                she    is    a    galaxy     /     she    is    a    sunrise     !     pink     &&     gold     &&     blue    -    blue    -    blue    .    a    flash    of    teeth    adds    pearl    to    the    mix    .    doesn't    have    much    to    do    ,    has    it    easy    compared    to    others    .    kept    off    to    the    side    ,    kept     away    from    danger     as     if    she's    a    fragile    little    creature    they're    so   very    sure    will    go    SHATTERED     !     for    her    marrow    by    the    monsters    .          ❛     nope     !     ❜          booted    feet    tap    out    a    little   dance     !     as    if    she's    half    child     /     half    anxious    energy     !          ❛     yeah    ,    m   '    fine    .    what    about    you     ?     m    ‘    sure    you    wanna    BE    WITH    MAGGIE   righ    '    now    .     ❜

The energy she exuded produced a close-mouthed chuckle from him. Cute, the way she could sometimes be; she reminded him of a time when his younger cousins would visit, always fidgeting and asking questions, curious as to what the big kids were playing without them. Better not dwell on that, though; family long gone. Instead, he focused on the here and now. There was more love held here anyway. ❝ I do, but it’s—fine. Sad, right? We’re with each other nearly 24/7, and I’m like this... ❞ He gave a little shrug, smiling visage turning toward her. Gently, he teased, ❝ You making it okay with the new kids around here, or are you just using me as a hide-out? ❞

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one of my favorite things is... getting a friend to fall for one of your rare-pairs. because now i’m not just one of three people who ship this thing, i’m one of four. anyway, things i need to do on here within the next couple days: - several drafts - two headcanon posts - get more plots going ‘cause i can’t survive on ‘go with the flow’ threads - maybe a starter call? idk, i never do these

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⊰ ✦ ⊱ ◦ JERRY

   “𝓓ude, ghosts are freaky, man.” Jerry’s brow rose and then settled a few seconds later at the notion of ghosts and spirits wandering around. “Can you imagine how many would be wandering around these days? Those people that can see or sense them must have a hell of a time!” He thought on Glenn’s words for a moment, at what point, where they do rot, would they stop? “I mean, they probably wouldn’t be able to move until the nerves connecting to their brains rots away? If that makes sense. I was never an expert in biology. Something in their brains clicks in again after they die.”

❝ Mm. Makes sense. ❞ A mumbled agreement, as if anything truly made sense anymore. In what world did the walking dead actually make any sense? The entire outbreak was baffling the more he thought about it. Had anyone driven themselves mad trying to figure it all out; the how, why, and when it all started? Best not go down that rabbit hole... ❝ Y’know, not once have I met anyone since this happened who’s mentioned seeing or hearing ghosts. ❞ A hard comma burrowed into the corner of his lip. He remembered the prison, when Rick had to find himself again, mumbling on about a phantom watching him, but was that truly paranormal or a mental break? Thankfully, that was long behind them, and memories shifted toward the encounters of his own. ❝ I had a few experiences as a kid, but I try to block them out, especially now. You ever have any creepy, unexplainable thing happen to you? I mean, besides all this. ❞

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⊰ ✦ ⊱ ◦ RICK

╟ ℝ.𝔾. ┈ Perhaps it was a little of that, or a mix of everything they’ve gone through up to this point and what might surface in the future. Rick didn’t want to dwell upon it, but couldn’t help letting his mind wander a bit as he’d been sitting there. ❝Been thinkin’ a little about all of it really. It’s feels a little surreal now that we’re here.❞ left hand is raised to give a gentle wave over the surrounding hallway inside the prison.

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Gaze followed, slowly taking in the drab expanse of the hall, the cells, the dirt and grime. A strange place to call home, that was for sure, but at least they were safe for now. For now. Words echoed in his head, and he then understood why the future had sprung up in the other’s mind. How long will it last? When will they be forced to take the road again? Who will they lose next?  ❝ I get what you mean. ❞ He gave a soft, reaffirming nod, gently chewing at the inside of his cheek. Words were stuck, then, a hum replacing any potential silence until he found what he thought best to say. ❝ I don’t know how to describe it, but it feels like... like we’ve been running for ages, but at the same, it feels like this all started only a couple weeks ago. Time feels... still here, y’know? Like we can breathe comfortably, but for how long? Anyway... I don’t think we need to be making any promises about keeping each other alive just yet. ❞ ❛ I’ll keep you alive. ❜ — Thinking back on it, it was both a comfort and a worry that Rick felt the need to remind him of potential death, but the sentiment was returned, albeit silently. Anything for Rick.

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⊰ ✦ ⊱ ◦ BETH

jokes are welcomed   ;    they    helped    make    the    fences    and    bars    feel    more    homely   ,    they    helped    beth    feel    more    comfortable    ,    despite    their    situation.     because    they    were    dealing    with    it   ,    they    were    surviving    ,    they    were    laughing.   this    world    is    still    to    break    the     optimistic.    for    they    had    reason   to    have    hope    ,   to    smile    and    joke    ;    they’d    been    promised    shelter   ,    food    ,    sleep    ,   company.    things    could    only    get    better    now    ,    right?   ❛    you    know    you’re    making    me    hungry    just    thinkin’    about    that    stuff.  ❜      

small frame sits opposite him.     bright    hues    glance     at     his     plate     but    look     away     before     losing    appetite.     lungs     expel    sigh     and    she’s    thinking.    lips    purse     as      mind    wonders.    head    lifts    and    she’s    not    looking    at    him ,    nor    his    plate ,    but    the    blue    sky.   it’s    still   the    same    sky    she’d    look    up    to    before    the    outbreak.     ❛     i    think    my    favourite   food  …      i     think    it     was     banana    bread.    i     think    it   is    banana    bread —-     i’d    make    it    with     maggie.    she    used    our    granny’s     old    recipe.    hopefully,    we’ll    be     able    to     make    it    again.   ❜  

❝ Ah, sorry... ❞ There came a sliver of guilt for the joke. Even though things seemed comfortable now and they were surviving, it still wasn’t too long ago when they were actually living. Memories came of an easier life; one he’d only thought was hard, with so many little things taken for granted. Maybe that life could be resurrected, some day. Glenn promised himself then and there that if they made it out into the new world together, that he’d make Beth and Maggie a homemade pizza, freshest ingredients possible, or he could try to make those aforementioned brownies... But banana bread from the pair sounded just as good, if not better. The plate was set aside after a few bites, unable to stomach any more. Attention shifted fully toward the younger, curious as to what she was thinking about beyond food, if anything, knowing Maggie had growing concerns over how hardened she sometimes seemed to be becoming. ❝ I think I remember Maggie mentioning that. Said she’d make it for me some day. Would be nice. ❞ With a small hum, he rested his head back against the wall, remembering the dishes his mom used to make. Sure, he loved all sorts of American junk food—chips, candy, and cakes. But Korean food felt like home, in a way, despite the familial fallout. ❝ My favorite was... tteokbokki. It’s rice cakes, all chewy and soft, just doused in a thick spicy sauce. Sometimes there’s little fish cakes in it. I dunno if you’ve ever had Korean food, but I’ll get you to try it. You’ll like it. ❞

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⊰ ✦ ⊱ ◦ NEGAN

@uualkerbait​  liked for a starter

A chuckle was seeping past a grin of WHITE teeth, tongue carefully poking through  as he observed the other man. The LUCKY one. The one where it wasn’t unfair to  say Negan had been merciful towards.

An act of MERCY? More like yet more hands to hand over their shit with.

❝ You oughta have a bit more SPARKLE in those eyes of yours when you’re lookin’ at me, ❞ he was cocking his head, adjusting his grip on Lucille to bring her closer between the two. ❝ Every damn breath you’re breathin’ is courtesy of lil’ ol’ ME. You should know that shit REAL well. ❞

Being ❛ spared ❜ didn’t rouse up any newfound thankful compassion. Darkened eyes spoke loud enough of the thriving violence that grew behind, and they spoke it well. This intimidation, he figured out it was all a game; like some comedic cartoon villain who needed meathead goons and a tricked-out weapon to feel better about whatever they lacked. The only problem was this one was too used to a lawless world and false victories now. But on his own, one-on-one, what would he be? ❝ I guess anatomy just wasn’t your thing in high school, huh? ❞ he mused, voice level, followed by a deep inhale as if to say he was breathing just fine on his own. A vehement glare trained itself on the elder, never once taking glance at Lucille. Only a year ago he’d been tied to a chair, tortured, left defenseless as a walker attempted to make him dinner. And after collecting himself and having something more to protect, he wasn’t about to step down now. ❝ It’s never a good idea to listen to a man who can’t take his own advice: never bite the hand that feeds you. Usually people think that man’s pretty stupid. Wouldn’t you agree? ❞