andrea fine

I would kiss you in the middle of the ocean during a lightning storm
‘cause I’d rather be left for dead
than left to wonder what thunder sounds like.
I’m not looking for someone who can save me.
Life rafts might keep you afloat but they rarely get you anywhere and I’ve got places I wanna go.
So break me in two, peel back my rib cage and cover every page of my heart with love poems
you will burn someday.
The most fertile lands were built by the hands of volcanoes,
And I wanna know what grows beneath the drone of Hallmark and roses.
I want your goodbye to feel like explosives,
Your lips, a burning building without fire escapes.
Your hips the gates of hell if I know if heaven exists,
But this will do just fine.
—  Andrea Gibson, “Wasabi”

 The other day I was thinking about a fake dating AU so I tried writing one because … because. But then it wasn’t working out like I wanted at all. And then the OOTW music video came out (which is just, like, a treasure trove of AUs, honestly, it’s unbelievable) so I thought I might as well just finish this ficlet.

I would probably love to write a proper fake dating AU some day, but anyway, here is this piece of nothing for now instead.


“So how long have you two been together?”

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breaking bad au where instead of jesse insisting that gus spares walt he’s all like “why would i give a fuck? kill that nerd” and then he and gus and mike rule the criminal underground w/o issue and brock and andrea are fine and skyler launders the rest of the money she had from walt successfully and basically everyone’s lives are better

Shoot Him Again, You Best Pray I’M Dead

Requested by Anonymous: Can you do an imagine with a throwback to season 2 when Andrea accidentally shoots Daryl on the side of his head and once you both realize it’s Daryl you start attacking her until someone has to pull you off and then later when Daryl founds out he tells you how proud he is of his girl?

It’s Throwback Thursday, y’all! I should make this a frequent thing. Haha. Anyway, here’s:

Shoot Him Again, You Best Pray I’M Dead

“Guys!” Andrea said from her perch on top of the RV. “There’s a walker.” You stood up from where you were pealing vegetables with Lori, squinting at the walker in the distance. “I can get it.” Andrea took aim.

“We got it.” Shane said, grabbing his weapon and running off with Glenn and T-Dog in the direction of the walker.

“Wait!” Rick said, “Hershel wants to take care of them himself!”

Rick took off after the other men, and you went sprinting after them, unsheathing your knife as you went. Rick and Shane had been causing problems lately, and you’d be damned if they got you all kicked off this farm. When you caught up to the group, they were watching the walker closely; he had his head down and was swaying slightly, not attacking any of you, and there was blood all down the front of his shirt and even more seeping from a wound on the side of his stomach. He must be freshly dead.

He raises his head slowly when he realizes you’re all standing there, and you cover your mouth to hide your terrified gasp; it was Daryl. There was blood in his beard, a string of ears around his neck, and a faraway look in his eyes. “Oh no.” Rick said, and no one moved. Then, he slowly raised his gun.

“Rick.” You choke out.

Then Daryl spoke. “You keep pointin’ that gun in my face, you gonna shoot me or what?”

“Oh thank god!” You cry, your legs almost giving out. “You’re OK!” You step forward to hug him when a gunshot goes off behind you and Daryl drops to the ground.

“NO!” You and the rest of the group yell.

“Daryl!” You drop to your knees in the dirt, trying to examine him through your tears. “He’s still breathing! We have to get him to Hershel!”

Rick and Shane haul him up to his feet and start off in the direction of the house, half-dragging, half-carrying your unconscious and bleeding boyfriend through the feild. “Why does he have a necklace of walker ears?” Glenn asks, and Rick rips the accessory off.

“I don’t know, but let’s keep that between us.”

You follow closely behind them as they run toward the house, fuming and shaking with rage. “What happened?” Lori asked once the group got in range of the camp.

“See?” Andrea called as she climbed down from the RV, and you veered off in her direction. “I told you I could hit it.” She stepped down off the ladder and you punched her in the nose as she turned around.

“YOU SHOT DARYL, YOU MORONIC BITCH!” You scream, hitting her again, grateful that Daryl had taught you to fight back at the camp in Atlanta.

Andrea’s nose was bleeding and she was trying to find her footing as she said, “What?”

“That was DARYL out there.” You hit her again and she falls to the ground. “And he was HURT.” Again. “And you have probably KILLED him. All because you can’t follow DIRECTIONS for once in your fuckin LIFE!” You rear back to hit her again, but someone stopped you.

T-Dog had you by your wrist and was working to restrain your arms behind your back. “Just calm down, Y/N. Daryl’s not dead yet.”

You struggle in his grip while Dale helps Andrea to her feet, handing her a rag for her nose. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was Daryl.”

“But you still didn’t LISTEN.” You say. “You’re not the hot shot you think you are, Andrea, even if it HAD been a walker, you could’ve missed and hit any of us. Right now, though, I guess we’re lucky you’re a shit shot otherwise we’d be BURYING Daryl.”

“That’s enough.” Dale said. “Y/N, go inside. Daryl’s been through enough today, and I’m sure he’ll appreciate it if you’re there when he wakes up. Andrea’s sorry, and beating up on her isn’t going to make anything better.”

You yank yourself out of T-Dog’s grasp and storm inside the house, where you help Maggie and Beth get the blood and guts out of your boyfriend’s hair.


After a few days, Daryl was up and moving a little more freely. He still couldn’t go out on runs or out looking for Sophia, but he could take short walks around the camp site once a day. Other than that, he was still mostly bed ridden. You were staying in his tent with him almost 24/7, making sure he was eating and helping to change his bandages and keeping him company, but that also meant that Andrea was steering clear of the tent all together. Which was fine by you.

One evening, though, Daryl was feeling well enough to get up and eat dinner at the campsite with the others, so you helped him walk over and sit down around the fire. “How are you feeling?” Lori asked.

“Better.” He said, accepting his plate of food from her and looking up at the others. “Thanks.” He looked across the fire and saw Andrea, her nose and eye swollen and purple bruises across her jaw. “What happened to you?”

Everyone went silent for a moment and looked at you. Then Glenn started to laugh. “Y/N beat the shit out of her.”

“Glenn!” Lori chastised him.

“No, it’s fine.” Andrea said. “And true.”

“You were unconscious and bleeding everywhere, and she comes storming up around the RV and just clocks Andrea right in the nose. Now she’s bleeding everywhere and Y/N’s screaming and throwing punches and it was awesome.” Glenn’s laughing now.

“Knock it off, Glenn.” Dale says.

“Is that true?” Daryl looks at you.

“Yeah.” You nod, looking at your food.

Daryl smiles, patting your knee. “That’s my girl. Tough as nails.” He kisses you on the cheek. “Proud of you, girl.”

“I’m sorry, by the way.” Andrea says and everyone looks at her. “For shooting you.”

Daryl shrugs. “You were just protecting the camp. I get that.” The atmosphere around the campfire relaxed. “But, Andrea?”


“Shoot me again, you best pray I’m dead.”

The group laughed and you cracked a smile. “Shoot him again Andrea, and you best pray I’M dead.” Andrea joined in on the laughter and you knew all was forgiven. Things would get better again. They always do.



what’s the betting that Quill and Charlie didn’t even realise random flowers everywhere was unusual

with Charlie’s question “is this how detentions always are?” I can only assume these two just take Earth in their stride and rely on the others to tell if something isn’t right

if the Humans aren’t freaking out, everything must be fine

And a Partridge in a Pear Tree

~Christmas Eve~

The Grimes house was buzzing with activity all day. Guests had been coming and going, the kids were hanging around the tree trying to guess what was in the boxes, and delicious smells were wafting out of the kitchen. It was hectic and noisy and absolutely wonderful to Michonne. She sat holding Piper while her mom and Rick’s mother cooked up a storm in preparation for tomorrow. Michonne was relegated to the official taster in her own house but it gave her more time to spend with everyone so she wasn’t complaining.

“Michonne, how is my grandbaby handling being out of your room?” Suzanne Grimes asked.

“She was fine the first night because Rick moved her when she was asleep. But I guess she realized what was up the next night because she wasn’t having it. But she’s better now. Though I think Judith has been waking her up at night to play.” Michonne looked down at a sleeping Piper. “It keeps her quiet at night but I don’t know how that’s going to work when Judy has to go back to school after New Years.”

“You and Rick need put a stop to it now before it becomes a problem,” Sheila Richardson advised.

“We will, Mama.” Michonne was starting to feel more confident that she would actually be here in the new year.

After the last guest left, Michonne, Rick, and the kids got into their pajamas and piled into the media room. They planned to watch Home Alone, A Christmas Story, and It’s a Wonderful Life right up until midnight. The girls were down for the count early. The boys made it through Home Alone and A Christmas Story but by the time It’s a Wonderful Life started playing only Rick and Michonne were awake.  

At the stroke of midnight, Rick and Michonne put blankets over the kids and put Piper in her portable crib before sneaking out to the den to lay out a few surprise presents “from Santa.” When they were all done, Rick and Michonne took a moment to sit and watch the lights on their tree. 

Rick broke the peaceful silence. “I think Santa brought you a gift, too.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep. A little birdie told me that he’s holding it for you. He’s over on the tree.”

Michonne smiled in confusion. “What?”

“Go look for him on the tree.”

After glancing warily at Rick, Michonne made her way over to the tree. She walked around until she found the little birdie…a cloth ornament partridge that had something pinned to it. Michonne leaned in for a closer look.

Michonne looked over to Rick. “Is this…is this my engagement ring?”  

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