* FIRST LADY.

two other picrew creators i love (that look more like lori)! here and here

* the road starters. / @thelcstsister

* things that are hard to hear. / @thelcstsister

fair.  surviving  in  this  NEW  WORLD  alone  seemed  odd.  she  had  always  been  fully  aware  of  that.  but  being  on  her  own  had  always  been  the  easiest  option  in  the  end.  it  meant  the  heaviness  of  loss  was  a  little  bit  less.  because  if  she  didn’t  get  close  to  anyone,  she  couldn’t  lose  anyone.  and  after  the  death  of  her  brother  …  and  the  presumed  death  of  her  father  …  she  wasn’t  quite  ready  to  let  anyone  else  IN.  even  this  interaction  wasn’t  meant  to  form  a  full,  true  connection.  she  just  wanted  to  SURVIVE  long  enough  to  get  back  out  there  on  her  OWN.  forcing  the  tension  free  of  her  shoulders,  althea  glanced  towards  the  woman  and  offered  her  some  small  attempt  at  a  smile.  for  now,  she  would  put  the  woman’s  pregnancy  on  the  back  burner.  once  the  trust  was  properly  established,  she  could  come  back  to  it.

 ❝  the  truck  i  rolled  up  in  ??  ❞  a  quick  shrug  rolled  free  of  her  shoulders;  pausing  her  pacing  for  half  a  moment  before  quickly  picking  it  back  up  again.  she  found  it  harder  to  stand  still  right  now;  needing  the  constant  movement.  it  matched  how  quickly  her  BRAIN  was  moving.    ❝  that  thing  has  kept  me  ALIVE.  it’s  amazing  what  a  huge  chunk  of  METAL  can  do  for  you  these  days.  not  many  people  wanna  mess  with  the  girl  in  the  SWAT  van.  ❞  that much was obvious.  ❝  have  you  been  with  a  group  the  entire  time  ??  since  THE END.  ❞  this  was  what  she  was  GOOD  at;  giving  small  pieces  of  information  about  herself  before  turning  the  conversation  back  around  just  as  quickly  as  it  had  shifted  moment  before. 

❝ fair. ❞  lori  had  to  resist  a  smirk  from  the  woman’s  jest.  she  did  have  a  point ;  anyone  with  half  a  brain  cell  would  avoid  conflict  with  an  occupied  swat  van  on  the  road.  but  the  stranger’s  answer  only  led  to  more  questions.  how  did  the  woman  get  a  hold  of  such  a  thing ?  lori  remembered  seeing  those  vans  deployed  all  across  the  outskirts  of  atlanta.  it  could’ve  been  pure  luck  that  the  woman  had  acquired  one  that  was  still  fully  equipped,  or  maybe  she  had  access  to  one  already.  ❝ were  you  in  law  enforcement,  then ?  before ? ❞  that  was  a  world  lori  knew  a  thing  or  two  about,  but  it  was  also  a  background  that  would  make  this  stranger  even  more  of  a  threat.

“𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏’𝒕,” voice is thick, low as Rick tries desperately not to break down. Glassy blue eyes look from her hand on his arm and back to her again, “I - I don’t think I can,” he mutters, shaking his head. He knows deep down it’s what needs to be done, but that’s much easier said. In this moment, he feels WEAK – feels a failure, but it’s not about him. This is about Lori and their child. Free hand lifts to gently cover hers, “M’ so sorry,” he says softly, a tear actually rolling down his cheek, “– for everything.” It’s a blanket statement but Rick hopes she understands. With hindsight, he can see how much time he wasted being ANGRY, how much time he wasted not just telling his wife how he felt. It’s all time they don’t have now. 

❝ you  have  to, ❞  she  pressed,  her  features  reflecting  the  gravity  of  the  situation.  lori  understood  what  she  was  asking ;  it  would  probably  be  the  hardest  thing  he  would  ever  have  to  do  ( and  this  was  a  man  who  killed  his  best  friend  for  her ).  she  would  have  given  anything  for  it  not  to  be  rick,  for  him  to  not  have  to  see  this,  but  it  had  to  happen  anyway.  ❝ you  have  a  knife. ❞  

lori  had  never  felt  more  powerless  as  she  lay  there  on  the  concrete,  paralyzed  by  pain  and  blood  loss,  her  husband’s  will  the  only  thing  standing  between  her  baby’s  death  and  survival.  time  was  of  the  essence,  and  she  couldn’t  let  this  all  be  for  nothing.  his  hand  moved  atop  hers  as  he  began  to  apologize,  and  she  wasn’t  sure  if  it  was  for  the  current  mess  they  found  themselves  entrenched  in  or  his  treatment  of  her  over  the  past  seven  months.  maybe  it  was  both,  but  lori  focused  on  the  former.  ❝ stop  that.  you  couldn’t  have  prevented  this, ❞  she  responded  in  a  hushed  tone,  shaking  her  head.  but  he  could  still  prevent  the  death  of  their  baby.

detailed headcanon meme / @wexarethewalkingxdead

do they have any daily rituals?

morning: lori’s typical day would revolve around three things: carl, rick, and tending to things around the house. rick and carl eat breakfast around the same time, but rick is up earlier and out the door for work sooner than lori brings carl to school. for lori, this means getting up at seven to fix breakfast while rick showers, waking up carl, packing lunches each of them while they eat, then sitting down for coffee herself after rick leaves for work and carl goes to get dressed for school. 

afternoon: after dropping carl off, things calm down a bit, and lori starts on chores (dishes, laundry, grocery shopping, cleaning, etc.) before picking carl up from school at three. she fixes him a snack and starts preparing dinner around five (they eat relatively late in the off-chance that rick can join them). 

night: after that, she might help carl with homework, watch a show or read a chapter of a book with him, then send him off to take a shower before tucking him into bed at nine. if rick is working a late shift that night, she leaves a note on the kitchen table and leaves out a serving of dinner ready for him from the fridge.

favorite way to waste time and feelings surrounding wasting time.

lori doesn’t have time for that very often, but she definitely loves a to take a nice bath with a glass of wine or to read a book after a long day. time alone to relax is something that is rare in her life, and so she values it a lot when given the opportunity.

how organized are they? how does this organization/disorganization manifest in their everyday life?

Rick could see his family, all of them, scrambling to the bridge to save him. He was hurt. The rebar had torn through his body, and the pain was almost unbearable. The blood loss had slowed him down, and even if they somehow managed to turn the walkers around, he was certain that it wouldn’t be enough. He can see Michonne’s face as she’s screaming his name, but he raised the Colt, trying to put all of his focus on firing and hitting the dynamite that had spilled out onto the bridge.

Then it’s all over. He can feel the heat from the blast as the bridge is blown apart, forcing him into the air and knocking him into the water with the walkers. He felt the rushing water and the ice-cold of the water as he’s being pulled downstream. He lost consciousness and everything went black.

He felt the world as it pulled him back to a conscious state. His fingers twitched as they lay on the bed, and he can hear the steady beep of machines, but there is no pain. He feels nothing. His eyes move rapidly underneath his eyelids as he tried desperately to force them open. They feel leaden and like they are sewn shut. He tried to speak but his mouth was dry. His entire body felt heavy as he tried to claw his way to consciousness.

He can hear voices around him, but he can’t pinpoint whose voices they are as he struggled to let them know that he was there, that he was trying to get back to them. “Mic-michonne,” he whispered, hearing it louder in his head than he knew he’d spoken it out loud. He forced his eyes open just a slit, but it’s not Michonne that’s at his bedside. It’s not Michonne that has his hand in hers.

“Lo-Lori?” This couldn’t be. Something was wrong. She was dead. She’d been dead for so long. His eyes fell back closed as he fought desperately to open them again. “Where’s Michonne?” He felt the tears as they slipped down the sides of his eyes to disappear into his hair. This wasn’t right. It was all wrong, and he was afraid. He wanted to get back to Michonne and to Judith. His family needed him, and he was lost in some kind of fucked up dream.  "Judith? Where’s Judith?“ His voice sounded foreign even to his own ears.

a  nurses  from  the  intensive  care  unit  had  called  her  earlier  that  morning  with  news  that  made  the  phone  slip  from  lori’s  hands  and  clatter  to  the  floor.  whenever  harrison  memorial  hospital  would  call  home,  her  chest  filled  with  dread,  knowing  each  time  that  she  could  be  hearing  the  news  of  her  husband’s  death  on  the  other  end  of  the  line.  good  news  was  no  longer  the  norm  in  the  grimes  household,  so  when  the  nurse  relayed  to  lori  that  machines  had  spotted  unusual  levels  of  brain  activity  in  her  comatose  husband,  it  felt  like  a  miracle ;  rick  could  be  waking  up.

she  drove  frantically  to  the  hospital,  all  the  way  reminding  herself  not  to  get  her  hopes  up,  that  it  all  could  mean  nothing,  but  that  didn’t  stop  her  heart  from  jumping  in  her  chest.  she  signed  in  to  the  icu  ( which  always  felt  silly  as  most  of  the  staff  now  knew  her  by  name )  and  then  hurried  down  the  familiar  halls  to  rick’s  room.  the  nurse  who’d  notified  lori  of  the  news,  mollie,  and  the  unit’s  head  doctor  were  already  in  the  room  when  she  threw  open  the  door.

lori’s  nerves  were  much  too  high  to  fully  process  everything  the  two  professionals  were  saying,  but  the  upshot  was  that  there  was  hope,  for  the  first  time  in  a  very  long  time.  the  doctor  was  careful  with  his  words  but  spoke  with  a  smile,  and  mollie  placed  an  encouraging  hand  on  lori’s  shoulder.  it  was  the  polar  opposite  tone  of  the  conversation  they’d  had  just  last  week,  when  the  staff  had  tried  to  reason  with  her  that  it  might  be  time  to  pull  the  plug.  the  two  soon  exited  the  room,  leaving  the  woman  alone  with  her  husband.

rick  had  spent  so  long  in  this  state  that  it  now  hurt  to  look  at  him.  rick’s  complexion  was  pallid,  sickly,  and  he  was  worryingly  thin.  lori  had  closely  monitored  the  care  he  was  receiving,  and  though  the  nurses  regularly  shaved  him  and  turned  him  and  moved  his  limbs,  nothing  could  make  up  for  the  toll  that  six  months  of  comatose  life  support  had  taken  on  him.  and  it  was  a  morbid  reality :  all  that  differed  between  her  husband  and  a  corpse  were  the  few  tubes  that  lay  under  his  skin  and  the  machines  that  forced  his  organs  to  keep  beating.  

she  pulled  her  chair  up  closer  to  the  bed,  then  moved  a  thumb  to  gently  push  back  a  stray  curl  from  his  forehead.  ❝ hi,  baby, ❞  lori  whispered,  sliding  a  hand  around  one  of  his.  ❝ i’m  sorry  i  haven’t  come  this  week  yet.  carl’s  got  a  lot  going  on  at  school,  and  we’ve  been  busy  at  the  house.  your  dad’s  insisting  on  building  a  crib  himself. ❞  she  smiled,  faintly,  but  as  she  lingered  on  the  thought,  tears  began  to  blur  her  vision.  not  only  was  rick’s  absence  a  hardship  on  their  family,  it  was  also  growing  more  tragic  by  the  day.  everything  he  was  missing  with  carl,  everything  that  he  was  going  to  miss  with  the  baby,  his  daughter...  god,  it  wasn’t  fair.  it  wasn’t  fucking  fair.

❝ i-i  know  you  probably  can’t  hear  any  of  this, ❞  she  began,  ❝ but  they  told  me  things  are  looking  good.  if  you’re  in  there — if  you’re  still  in  there,  rick — ❞  lori’s  throat  tightened.  she  swallowed  back  the  tears,  eyes  fixed  upon  his  features.  ❝ come  back  to  me.  come  back  to  us,  baby.  please.  please,  come  back. ❞  

they’d  had  this  conversation  before,  lori  begging  at  his  side  for  a  sign  of  life.  the  only  difference  was  that  this  time  there  was  a  real  chance  of  her  wish  coming  true.  she  hung  her  head,  his  hand  still  in  hers,  listening  to  the  beeping  of  monitors  and  groaning  of  machines  and  her  husband’s  shallow  exhale.  she  sat  with  him  in  silence  for  nearly  an  hour,  shoulders  falling  further  and  further  in  defeat,  wondering  if  the  readings  the  doctors  spoke  of  were  truly  anything  more  than  an  anomaly.

but  then  his  breath  hitched.  his  fingers  shifted  in  her  hand.  lori  sat  bolt  upright  in  shock,  gasping,  her  gaze  darting  to  her  husband’s  face.  his  eyelids  moved.  ❝ doctor  johnson ? ❞  she  called,  voice  wavering  as  she  punched  the  attendant  call  button  behind  her.  she  repeated  the  doctors  name  again,  this  time  in  a  yell,  and  moments  later  the  doctor  and  two  nurses  came  hurrying  through  the  door.  they  all  spoke  over  each  other  as  they  asked  what  happened,  and  lori  found  herself  replying  autonomously,  though  her  attention  never  strayed  from  the  man  laying  before  her.

his  lips  parted  suddenly  and  lori  held  her  breath,  the  room  falling  silent  as  the  other  professionals  noticed  the  movement.  she  gave  his  hand  a  crushing  squeeze,  wordlessly  pressing  him  to  speak.  a  few  seconds  passed  and  a  sound  finally  escaped  through  his  pale  lips.  it  was  nonsense,  like  a  child’s  babble,  but  it  was  still  the  sound  of  a  voice  that  lori  had  never  thought  she’d  hear  again.  ❝ oh  my  god, ❞  lori  choked,  at  last  releasing  her  breath,  and  before  she  had  time  to  react  any  further,  his  eyes  cracked  open.  the  eyes  she  had  missed  so  dearly  were  now  meeting  hers,  seeing  her  for  a  brief  moment,  then  uttered  out  lori’s  name  before  the  harsh  light  forced  his  eyelids  closed  again.  

without  warning,  lori’s  body  was  wracked  with  sobs.  rick  was  awake,  and  he  recognized  her,  and  called  out  her  name.  she  wasn’t  sure  if  there  was  a  feeling  in  the  world  that  compared  to  the  joy  and  relief  that  shook  through  her  being  at  that  moment.  her  husband  was  alive,  and  he  was  back.  ❝ rick, ❞  she  cried,  leaning  over  him  with  a  hand  cupping  his  cheek,  ❝ rick,  it’s  me.  it’s  lori.  you’re  safe. ❞  when  he  spoke  next,  his  strained  words  were  nonsensical  again,  asking  for  someone  or  something  lori  couldn’t  comprehend.  tears  leaked  down  out  of  the  corners  of  his  eyes,  causing  lori’s  heart  to  clench.  he  was  almost  certainly  confused,  his  last  memories  likely  a  blur  of  blood  and  searing  pain,  and  she  could  only  imagine  how  terrifying  it  must’ve  been  to  wake  up  like  this.