#septiclovebite

What the hell is it?

65. What is your dream job?

Author. Successful author.

75. What’s the meaning of life?

WHY CHLOE. Hell if I know what the meaning of life is.

85. What do you typically have for breakfast?

Id kiss that cutie face tbh

I would like you to write Crazy and Wildfire. NO PRESSURE OR ANYTHING

NO THEY ARE DEAD TO ME

The lovely Imorca tagged me for this!  Looks like a lot of fun, so here goes!

1)  Something old- A blurb from one of the first fics you've ever written.

The first bit of fic I ever posted publicly was just a quick scene I wrote for Tumblr.  It was my effort to join in on all the Caryl fun, since I'm not gifted with the skills necessary to make videos or gifs, etc.  I received a lot of positive feedback and encouragement, particularly from Shipperwolf, so it ultimately became chapter one of 'The Choice':

"What?" Carol began, but the question died on her lips. Standing beside Daryl, watching him pace, was Merle.

"Let him in!" Carol cried out at once. "Let them in!"

"No!" Glenn yelled. "He's not welcome here."

"Let's just take a minute to calm down." Rick said, attempting to cool things. Attempting to think, by the looks of it. Carol didn't understand what the debate was. This was Daryl.

Carol reached the fence and laced her fingers through the chain link. Daryl was there immediately, facing her but not meeting her eye.

"What happened?" Carol asked, confused.

"Merle happened." Daryl growled under his breath. "But I ain't leaving him."

"You can't leave." She said automatically. It was unthinkable.

"Come with us." Daryl said then, so low she almost didn't hear it. His fingers met hers through the fence and she felt a jolt shoot up through her arm.

"You're not serious. Rick won't let you go. We need you. You're one of us." Carol felt her heart quicken in panic.

Daryl shifted on his feet and squeezed her fingers tighter. "They ain't gonna let Merle in here after what he done to Glenn. It's done." He met her eyes for a moment, then cast his gaze down again. "He's my brother." He said, as if this was explanation enough.

"Aren't you even going to try?" Carol tuned out the others, struggling to gather her thoughts. "We could keep him in D block, or lock him in a cell. We'd keep an eye on him."

"Merle ain't gonna sit in no cage." Daryl said sharply. "We went through all this with Randall. There's no point. Are you coming or not? I ain't got all day."

Carol didn't answer immediately and she felt Daryl's grasp on her hand slacken. She reached through the fence and grabbed his arm, desperate for more time.

"What about the baby?" Carol asked, blinking her sudden tears away. "She needs me."

Daryl met her eye then and she understood what he wouldn't say. "Why did you come here at all, then? If you were just giving up?"

"Came for my bike." He said after a moment.

"That's a lie." Carol whispered.

"You coming?" He asked, ignoring her accusation.

2) Something new- A snippet from something you're currently working on, or from the last thing you posted.

I am working on a few little things-none of which have been cooperating.  This one is inspired by a Leonard Cohen song, 'Hey, That's No Way To Say Goodbye':

She propped herself up on her elbow and looked down at the man sharing her narrow bed.  She knew she should let him sleep, but she was unable to resist.  She reached out and brushed the hair from his eyes, tucking it behind his ear.  He stirred, rubbing his hand over his face, his hair falling back out of place.  A moment later he was peeking at her through the long strands.

"You stayed."  Carol smiled to take some of the weight from her words.

Daryl grunted and stretched, avoiding her gaze, but his mouth turned upward into a shy sort of grin.

3)  Something borrowed- A scene or section of dialogue from another writer's story.  Maybe something that inspired you or resonated with you.  (Credit the writer and link to it if possible, please.)

I actually watched the first two seasons of The Walking Dead on my own, without any knowledge of a fan base, or Tumblr.  I watched because I had been reading the graphic novels.  I like zombies.  It airs Sunday nights.  All things lined up for me to see this show.  It was only when I viewed season 2 a second time, on my shiny new DVDs, that I started obsessing about Carol and Daryl.  I casually mentioned this to a friend, who casually asked me if I'd looked up any fanfiction.  She knew of my previous obsession, Harry Potter.

So that search lead me to Shipperwolf, who lead me to Tumblr and is the reason I eventually posted my own fanfiction.  

Here is the first chapter from one of my favourite Shipperwolf fics, 'Disruptor'.  For all of you who crave a Caryl 'haircut' scene, she wrote this is March of 2012:

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7884990/1/Disruptor

4) Something Blue- C'mon, you know you've written a really gut-wrenching bit of angst at some point.  Let's hear the saddest or angstiest thing you've got.  Alternatively?  Tell us about the last time you described the colour blue.

This is a tough one.  I feel like a lot of my fics are rather angsty.  I once received a prompt asking for a Caryl fic in which a physical relationship started first, and then someone develops feelings, followed by angst, angst, angst.  I wrote 'Something Else' in which every chapter there is angst, angst, angst... :

She looked back down at him, about to speak, when his hand came up and touched her face. She couldn't decipher his expression.

"What?" She asked, uncertainly. "Is there something on my face?"

His hand dropped away. "Nothin'" He rasped.

Sensing the mood had changed, Carol climbed off Daryl and reached for her pants.

"I'm sure it'll be a quiet night." She said. "Not even a walker would be caught out in this."

"You should go on in." He suggested. "I got this."

"That's not what I meant." Carol said, looking at him.

He didn't meet her eye, but seemed oddly focused on buttoning his pants.

"Trying to get rid of me?" She asked, hoping to tease a faint smile out of him. It wasn't easy, but when they were alone she sometimes managed a full on grin.

"I'm gonna walk the perimeter." He declared and jumped out of the truck before she could argue with him.

Carol sat there fighting the sudden urge to cry. She wasn't even sure what was wrong, but the sudden tension had her on edge. Daryl was never overly chatty, but it'd been a long time since she'd felt any hostility from him. All of her earlier excitement drained out of her.

He returned a few minutes later, soaked to the bone. He just sat there and let the water drip off of him. It wasn't a comfortable silence.

"You should go in and change." She said finally.

He ignored her.

Carol swallowed against the lump in her throat. She would not cry in front of him. Especially if she didn't even know what they were fighting about. And that's what this felt like. A fight. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again. What could she say to remove this brick wall that Daryl had seemed to erect between them? She decided to just leave without another word.

She opened the door determined to march back to the house when a walker appeared out of no where and grabbed onto her leg. She screamed and fell backward against the truck. She tried kicking it off and Daryl was there trying to pull her back into the truck. Finally she remembered the knife attached to her belt and managed to grab it. With a force she didn't know she was capable of, she jabbed it into the walker's skull.

Daryl was out of the truck now, pulling her to her feet and looking around for other threats.

"Are you bit?" He asked anxiously.

She shook her head, but he was on his knees anyway, running his hands over her legs, checking for bites or scratches.

"I said I'm fine." She said, shaking him off.

Daryl stood and turned on her. "Christ! Did you even look before you opened the door? It was right there!"

"Actually, my mind was on other things. Like escaping." Carol shot back.

"Escaping? What? You mean me?" Daryl asked. "Don't act like all this wasn't your idea, lady."

"I didn't hear you complaining." Carol said. "Don't ever hear you say much at all."

"What's the point? You ain't even there." Daryl claimed. "Could be fuckin' a walker."

Carol stared at him, stunned.

"Well if that's how you feel, I won't bother you again." Carol huffed, hurt.

"Yeah, do us both a favour. Next time you're cold, see what T-Dog can do for you."

"Maybe I will." Carol shrugged.

"One dick is as good as another, right?" Daryl spat.

Carol didn't bother answering him. She walked back into the house, found her bag and changed her clothes, hanging her wet things to dry. She found her sleeping bag in the living room where everyone else was asleep. They always stayed together these days.

She lay down and covered up. She couldn't stop shivering. Beside her, Daryl's sleeping things were laid out. Everyone had accepted that they slept side by side. Shared what little warmth they could manage between them. It was practical. That's what this world had reduced everything to.

This is where I would actually knee him in the bollocks.

Please refrain from those hahahah. To be honest, I just go for the dirty ones, pussy or cunt is my preference usually.

Also, someone needs to tell him to grow the beard back. HAWT.

LOL! HIS 'MOURNING BEARD'.