#gottapick

[phyllorist]

@gottapick

   Phyl had been pulled into the Sanctuary for a reason. It had been about the observation and infiltration of other settlements, and she had been singled out for several reasons. The clearest intent had been for Negan to fuck her, as he wasn’t any more subtle than that. But she’d been sent to the Kingdom on his word before she’d defaulted to the role of mistress.

   All that combined left her unsurprised when he would ask her what she remembered of Alexandria. It happened less and less now, as she’d only been there once while he’d had a handful of trips. She knew a few basic details, names, gave him an idea of who would be worth his attention. It’d been a while since that initial exchange of information, so Phyl hadn’t thought much on Alexandria.

   And then Daryl and Bianca had left. No warning, no mention, not unless you counted the vague threat Daryl offered to her a few days before. She knew he wanted to leave, and that he promised he’d take Bianca, but she pretended that the escape would include her. But why would it? She’s so happy here.

   “Does it help t’have me here?” She asked from the couch, her arms looped over the side of the couch as she watched him work. The office was once an actual office, though it’d been fitted out in a similar style to his bedroom, all sleek black and gray. 

[go-amelia-archive]

» the walking dead sentence meme -  ❝ You point a gun at me, and I’m the asshole? ❞

@gottapick

His statement earned him a small chuckle, her head tilting to the side slightly as she looked at him. “I’m pointing a gun at you because you’re an asshole,” Amelia explained, her finger on the trigger as she watched him closely. “And yeah, I might be a bit of an asshole too but it still doesn’t change the fact that you’re one of the biggest assholes that I’ve ever met, if not theeee biggest asshole.” She shrugged a little, her Scottish accent thick as she insulted the older man.

[phyllorist]

@gottapick

   Phyl had gone through this before, the summoning act. Negan would hole himself up in his personal space, a receiving lounge for those who were considered welcome inside. It was a select few of Negan’s men, Simon mainly, and on occasion her. She had only been here a few times, though it had all been before they’d become anything. Not that they were anything now.

   Negan was adamant about the separation between the wives and herself, to the point where she left the room if she saw one of the women he’d taken on. It ebbed and flowed as some girls couldn’t stand him, while others clung on for dear life. The only ones she’d gotten to know were Sherry, before, and she’d heard about Amber. The other had names, but she was too afraid to ask.

   But instead of him, undressed and splayed in the foyer, she was tugged further inside. She looked to Simon who had his grin split in a genial manner, an ever-present twinkle in his eye. He enjoyed it, the power by proxy. She knew he’d taken over if anything were to happen to Negan. Or, he’d try to. Maybe that’s the understanding, or maybe it’s her imagination.

   And then there’s a big door at the end of a hall, a suggestion of light at the cracks. He stepped forward to pop the door open for her, and she stepped inside with a smile. She looked not to Negan but back to Simon, a grin in place. “Thank y’kindly, s’always nice t’see you.” Because it only ever happened when Negan wanted her in a specific place. She fucking hated it. But he was nice and she was lonely.

   And then she threw her gaze around to the leather couches, the table, the plants, and a four-poster bed. It’s all shades of grey and black, cozy but strict. It couldn’t be his personal room. She didn’t think it would be, anyway. But the bed is huge in a way Negan would insist upon, because he’s such a size king on his own behalf. She looked to him with a sidelong acknowledgment, lips pouted with private distaste.

   “What, did y’miss me finally?” He was underdressed, no shoes, Lucille set aside, no jacket. Was he dying?

[lastprcttygirl-blog]

@gottapick ♡’ed for something smol.

UNSTEADY palms smoothed over her flannel shirt as her feet fell in sync with her leader’s steps, FOLLOWING behind him obediently. STOIC hues fell upon the ruthless man in the near distance, wondering just WHY Rick wouldn’t explain to her the reason for her summons. Why Negan would even want HER to approach him now that he was here RAIDING their homes of their belongings. It only took a few more strides and she was FACE to FACE with the leather clad adversary. 

“You--” she CLEARED her throat briefly, “You were lookin’ for ME?”

[phyllorist]

@gottapick

   Phyl had dealt with responsibility before, and with how it pertained to life. She had traded information for safety time and again, and she had relied on others for protection. It’s much the same with Negan, how she had been with Andrew. Her allegiance had been moved and manipulated, from one leader to another.

   A large part of her wished she could snatch up Bianca, some supplies, maybe Daryl -- they could slip out. There had to be a way. She didn’t know how it would work, or how she would do it, and so she suffered. She worked through her shift in the greenhouse, with her focus on the plants that could be ground down into herbal remedies. There was some marijuana, opiates, the riskier supplies. She had no interest in any of it.

   They were kept distant from the main greenhouse, tucked around a corner and down a slim path. Phyl hated it, because it was so close to the fence. The walkers, they were loud, and hissed, and she couldn’t help but stare as she walked by. It was awful, as sometimes she would see a familiar face, someone who’d skimmed supplies or talked back.

   And then Phyl saw Andrew, mouth agape, throat slit. A throaty laugh rebounded, the solid form of Negan sat on a set of stairs. She had known this would happen. He’d made a promise, and he was a man of his word. She had said too much, and she’d fucked up. She couldn’t find sadness inside herself though. Not as much as she should feel.

   “Have you just been sittin' here?” Phyl narrowed her eyes at him, so as to avoid Andrew. She was too far into shock for that to register.

[phyllorist]

dani: let's do this thing that will make me sad

dani five minutes later: ow i'm sad

me: looks at the camera like it's the office

[withliight]

continued from here. 

caroline's lips press to his neck, curving into a smile. fingers curled around leather as she gets her jollies from feeling him allow her more flesh to kiss. ❝ oh, im definitely a finisher. are you? ❞ with a giggle pressed against his skin.

[valiantjuudas]

@gottapick | CONT.

———  It was obvious that those icy, steely eyes of his held no SHAME as Judas felt them running somewhat GREEDILY over her toned, tattooed body as she changed into a new shirt from one INKED in WALKER BLOOD. “Can’t say I’m not OFFENDED that you didn’t think MORE of me..” She smirked, fixing her shirt. “ESPECIALLY being an ARMY woman..” She added, eventually turning to him. “Too bad you’re NOT MY TYPE..”