My family is not very religious most of the time.  We pray at Christmas and Easter and Thanksgiving dinners, and my mom’s entire side of the family excluding her parents and siblings is hardcore religious so whenever we do anything with them it’s kind of religious.

But the point is, most of the time we aren’t, but every year at Christmas time, a church in the next town over puts on a Bethlehem and it’s kind of a tradition to go.  They go all out.  The building is massive, and they’ve got it all decked out.  There’s animals and stalls and everyone is in costume and in character.  When you get there, they give you some pennies and you can go and barter for cool little trinkets, and there’s other more expensive things you can buy with your own money.  And they have the best apple cider.  All in all, it’s pretty cool.

But anyway.  We go every year, bundled up in hats and scarves and mittens, and have a good time.  We’ve been doing it for as long as I can remember, and my mom talks about going when she was a kid.

I’m going to mention again that everyone is massively in character, especially the really super hardcore religious adults.  Because this is an important fact.

Every year since I was about thirteen or so, there’s been this one lady who worked at a stall selling ponchos (I have, like, three.  They’re really cool).  She was probably there before that, but I was thirteen when she started trying to barter for me to marry her son, who was also about thirteen.

“What a pretty little thing.  I think you’d make a very good wife for my son.  These are your parents?  I’ll give you six goats for your daughter’s marriage to my son.”

Her son, meanwhile, is in the “shop” behind her looking absolutely mortified and like he’d rather be anywhere else than there, and I’m pretty sure I probably looked just as embarrassed.

My parents gave her some sort of excuse, like it wasn’t enough goats or they weren’t ready to marry me off yet or something, and we moved on.

The next year we’re back again, and come up near to the same stall.

“Ah!  You’re back again!  Have you married your daughter off yet?  I can up my offer to nine goats and three chickens for your daughter to marry my son.”

Somehow she remembered the exact people she’d tried to buy their daughter off of for an entire year?  So my parents are refusing her offers again and me and the son are trading embarrassed looks and we go on our way.

And then it happens again.  And again.  And again.  Each and every one of the last six years this lady has tried to buy me in goats to be her son’s wife. 

 A couple years ago when we were waiting in line to get inside my mom jokingly said that they should accept this year and see what she’d do and I completely refused because it was mortifying enough as it was.

One year we brought my friend with us and we’re waiting outside and my sister was like “Are you gonna sell Kee this year?” and my dad was like “Maybe if there’s enough goats” and my friend was confused as heck and I was like “This lady tries to buy me to marry her son every year.  I told you that” and she’s like “Yeah but I didn’t think this was a thing that actually happened” and she was still skeptical and by the time my parents had finished refusing the lady’s offer, she’s killing herself laughing and then spent the next few months telling me I couldn’t look at guys because I already had a fiancée.

Anyway, it happened again this Christmas and the son has somehow gotten almost ridiculously attractive since last year.  The speech this year had something to do with how I was far too old to not have a husband yet, and the son and I just rolled our eyes at each other as his mom tried to barter with my parents for me.

This year’s offer was twenty six goats and nine chickens.  My sister looked up how much goats are worth, and was mad our parents didn’t sell me so she could have sold the goats and gotten $2000-$8000 for them.  My dad says they’re waiting out on an offer of a camel.  My brother thinks they should have it more than once a year so he can get more apple cider.

Now I’m back at uni, and in my first psych class of the semester the guy sitting beside me looked really familiar.  

As in his-mom-tries-to-buy-me-with-goats-every-Christmas familiar.

That kind of familiar.

We introduced ourselves before class started and I sat there for a couple minutes readying to make a total fool of myself in case I was wrong before turning to him again.

“This is going to sound really weird if you aren’t who I think you are, but by any chance does your mom try to buy you a wife with goats every Christmas?”

His friend gives me a weird look as he walks past me to sit on the other side of him, but he’s definitely putting the pieces together.

“That’s you?  Bethlehem in [city name], right?  God, my mom is so mortifying.”

And we both kinda laugh and meanwhile his friend is giving us both weird looks now because apparently he didn’t know that his friend’s mom was trying to buy him a wife using livestock.

So he turns to his friend and is like

“Oh, I forgot to introduce you.  Danny, this is my fiancée, Kee.”

And I kinda rolled my eyes and was like

“I’m not actually your fiancée.  Your mom hasn’t offered my parents enough goats yet.  But apparently my dad will sell me for a camel.”

And he laughed and shook his head like

“I am not telling my mom that.  I don’t want to see what she has planned for if your parents ever accept.”

So yeah.  His friend was really confused by that point and we explained it to him and it turns out he’s pretty cool and we’re Facebook friends now and hang out in psych classes.  Apparently his mom only ever tries to buy me for him and she and my mom had gone to the same church growing up which is why she can always pick us out.

So yeah.  That’s the story of how some lady tries to use goats to buy me to be her ridiculously attractive son’s wife every Christmas, and how he’s in my class and we’re friends now.

It was the 23rd of December, 2017, and my sister had convinced her friend to come with us this year.

“And that’s where Kee’s fiancé usually is,” Sam explained as we stood in the line waiting to get inside.  Her friend gave her the same sceptical look she’d apparently been giving since Sam had first told her.

“He’s not my fiancé,” I pointed out, trying to rub some feeling back into my hands.  The Goat Guy had been texting me updates since that morning.  The organizers had discussed it at length, but apparently temperatures of negative eighteen, thirteen inches of snow, and a blizzard warning weren’t quite enough to have Bethlehem cancelled (or for my parents to decide to skip it this year).  Hashtag Canada.

The line was long this year, and we’d already been standing out in the cold for the better part of half an hour.  My brother was loudly lamenting the fact that we couldn’t get to the hot apple cider until we’d made it inside.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I braved taking off a glove to check it.

“Who do you keep texting?” my mom asked, not-so-subtly trying to peer over my shoulder at my phone.

“Gregory from psychology,” I told her, sending off a text informing him that we were still in line.  It wasn’t technically a lie, since, you know, that was his actual name and he was in my psychology classes.  It wasn’t my fault that my family only knew him as the Goat Guy.

“Ooo,” Sam teased, elbowing me in the ribs, her bony elbows hurting less than usual through all our layers.  “I’m going to tell your fiancé he has competition, and then maybe they’ll offer us something useful.  Like a car or a trip to Hawaii or something.”

I snorted again.  “One, he’s still not my fiancé.  Two, he doesn’t have competition, because I’m not interested in him or in Gregory.  And, three, this isn’t a game show.  If anything, his mom will just offer maybe a horse or something.”

“Can I have the horse?”

I rolled my eyes, glancing at my phone as another text came in.  Hurry up.  “Sure, Cole.”

My brother pumped his fist in the air.  “Nice.”

It took another ten minutes or so to make it to the front of the line, and my family had placed their bets on the amount of farm animals that would be offered this year.  My dad reminded me that he was selling me if they offered a camel, and I rolled my eyes, trying to act as reluctant to get to that part of the night as I usually was.  Apparently I didn’t do as good a job as I thought I did, since Mom questioned me.

I shrugged, feeling my phone go off again.  “I guess I’ve just decided to go with it.”

Sam rolled her eyes.  “She thinks he’s hot,” she told her friend.  Which, well, it wasn’t exactly untrue.  Objectively the Goat Guy was ridiculously attractive, but that doesn’t mean I want to (or have time to) date him.

We’d reached the entrance by that point, and were given our little pouches of pennies to buy small trinkets and ducked into the (compared to outside, at least) warmth of Bethlehem.

Roman soldiers milled amongst the people, asking for taxes and wanting to see our papers.  We didn’t have papers, obviously, but the soldier who checked us took an extra penny as a bribe.

“Wait,” Sam’s friend said, stopping in her tracks.  “There’s a petting zoo?”

There was, in fact, a petting zoo.  The petting zoo and the apple cider were there to keep us pacified as we waited for the soldiers to allow us entrance into Bethlehem, and Cole and our parents went off to get us something to drink while I followed Sam and her friend to see the animals.

“What is this?” Sam asked, frowning.  “Where are all the animals?”

There were significantly less animals than usual.  Two whole pens were empty, and I could see a few soldiers and townspeople whispering to each other in a panic.

“Maybe they were too cold,” I suggested, reaching out to pat a pig’s head.  It snorted and turned away.

My parents and brother returned with our drinks, and I sighed into the bliss that is Bethlehem hot apple cider, and, by the time we made it to the gates to listen as the soldiers reminded us of laws that I don’t remember, I actually had a bit of feeling back in my fingers and face.

I pulled off a glove, typing up a quick text.  We’re in.

The stalls were as neat as they always were.  I bought a wooden hammer to add to my collection for a couple pennies.  My mom dug out her wallet to buy a carved wooden bowl.  Sam and her friend took selfies with a girl from their soccer team who was working in a bakery and she snuck them a free scone.  Cole found another apple cider vendor and took three cups for himself.

“Look,” Sam said, grinning wickedly as she wrapped an arm around my shoulders.  “There it is.”

And there it was.  The Goat Guy’s mom was standing outside her shop, heckling with a couple over the price of a rug.

“That is a poncho,” I agreed, glancing at one hanging on the side of the shop and deciding I was going to buy it after this whole thing was over.

Sam rolled her eyes.  “You know that’s not what I mean,” she pointed out, craning her neck.  “I don’t see your fiancé, though.”

“That’s because I don’t have one,” I pointed out, stopping to look at the smithery so I didn’t look too eager to get there.

No one bought that I actually wanted to see some guy pound metal with a hammer (there wasn’t an actual fire or anything, so he was really just sitting there hitting it), so they dragged me across the hall, grins on their faces.

The Goat Guy’s mom, who we will henceforth refer to as the Goat Mom for sake of ease, perked up as she saw us heading towards them, finishing up her bartering and holding her arms out in greeting.

“Ah,” she called, grinning at us.  “Back again, I see.  Surely you must have found a suitable husband for your daughter by now.”

“Nope,” my mom said, giving me a pointed look.  “She’s still single.”

(And, yeah, I was, and still am, but she doesn’t have to be so judgy about it)

The Goat Mom gasped, pressing a hand to her chest.  “My dear, you’re far too old to be without a husband,” she cried, causing people to stop to watch.  I could feel my face heating up, and glanced around wondering where the Goat Guy was at.  We had agreed months ago that this was always far more embarrassing for me than it was for him, so why was he taking so long?

“You won’t be young forever,” the Goat Mom was continuing, grabbing my hands and forcing my to look at her.  “You’re running out of time.”  She glanced past me to my parents, a smug look on her face that said she got just as much enjoyment out of this as my family did.  “My son is still in need of a wife.  I’ll tell you what, I will give you thirty goats and ten chickens for your daughter.  She—”

“Aww, Mom.  You started negotiations without me?  How are they supposed to know I’d be the perfect husband for Kee if they can’t see how hot I am?”

The Goat Mom froze for a moment, her grip on my hands loosening enough for me to pull away.  I followed the shocked gazes of my family and his mom to the Goat Guy.

He was leaning casually against the shop, somehow managing to look good in clothes that were 2000 years out of fashion, a smirk on his face and a half dozen goats and a llama surrounding him.

“That’s Kee’s fiancé,” Sam whispered to her friend, as if there was any doubt about his identity.

His mom blinked out of her shock, narrowing her eyes at him.  “Are you drunk?”

The Goat Guy looked offended, raising a hand to his chest.  “What?  No!”

Cole started cackling.  I don’t think he had any more idea what was going on than the rest of them, but fifteen year old boys are weird.

His mom glanced back at us for a moment, and I had to look away to keep the grin off my face, and noticed quite the crowd had gathered.

She took a deep breath as she turned back to her son, pressing her fingers to her temples.  “Then why do you have goats?”

I couldn’t keep myself from snorting then, but, thankfully, everyone seemed too distracted to notice.

The Goat Guy rolled his eyes, relaxing back against the shop once more.  “I mean, you’ve been failing at bartering me a wife for eight years, Mom,” he pointed out.  “I think they just don’t believe we really have as many goats as you say we have.  So I brought goats!”  He waved the ropes in his hands, and sent me a wink.  “And a llama!  Girls like llamas.”

“I think that’s actually an alpaca,” my brother helpfully pointed out, and the Goat Guy grinned.

“You’re probably right, my man,” he agreed and turned back to me.  “I’m adding this alpaca onto the list of whatever my mom’s already offered.  We can ride off on it into the sunset.  What do you say?”

“I say it probably wouldn’t hold us.”  I was grinning now, too, no longer able to hold it in.

The Goat Guy just shrugged and stayed silent, letting our families stew for a moment.

“Are you sure you aren’t drunk?” his mom finally asked, glancing between us in confusion.  “Maybe you’ve been spending a little too much time at the, uh, tavern.”  She glanced at the goats and the llama (alpaca?), realization dawning on her face.  “Gregory, you had better not be the reason everyone is panicking about the animals going missing from the petting—trading post.”

“Not drunk,” he insisted, ignoring the part about him stealing the animals from the petting zoo as he thrust the leads of the animals into her hands before she had a chance to protest.  “I’m just excited to see my future wife.”  He crossed the distance between us, my family stepping back, still mostly in shock, and wrapped me up in his arms.  “How’s it going, Kee?”

I laughed, hugging him back quickly before pulling away.  “Hey, Gregory,” I echoed loudly, my grin growing at the gasp that came from someone in my family.  “How’d you find the psych final?”

He groaned, burying his face in my neck.  “Ugh, don’t even get me started,” he whined, an arm wrapping back around my shoulders.  “I didn’t fail, but that’s about all I can say.”

I hummed in sympathy, watching our families try to piece together what was going on and the crowd that was wondering if this was supposed to be happening.  His mom’s mouth was opening to say something as I caught sight of a couple of soldiers pushing through the crowd, and nudged him.

“You!” one yelled, and the Goat Guy’s head snapped of my shoulder, staring at the soldier in shock.  “He stole the king’s animals!”  One of the others came forward, pulling him away from me.

“You, uh, have the right to remain silent,” he started, fixing his grip on the Goat Guy’s arm.  The soldier who grabbed his other arm rolled his eyes.

“He doesn’t have any rights.”

“Oh, right.”  The second soldier nodded and turned back to the Goat Guy.  “You don’t have the right to remain silent,” he amended.

“Take him to the king,” the first soldier ordered, taking the leads from the Goat Mom.  “He should be tried at once.”

The Goat Guy regained his wits and started to struggle against their hold.

“Wait for me, Kee!” he cried as they dragged him back through the parted crowd.  “I’ll come back for you!”

By the time he’d disappeared and the crowd had filled in their path, I was laughing so hard I could barely breathe.  It’d gone better than either of us could’ve hoped.

I calmed down after a moment, and the Goat Mom was still staring in confusion in the direction her son had disappeared in.  I stepped past her to the shop, pulling the poncho I’d noticed earlier off the wall.

“I’d like to buy this, please,” I said, and her eyes snapped back to me.  I grinned and handed her the money, and she pocketed it without bartering, and I walked away, the crowd parting for me as I wandered towards the next stall.

My family joined me a few moments later, as I was browsing some blown glass ornaments and ignoring the fact that the shopkeepers were whispering about me.

“What was that?” my mom demanded.

I shrugged.  “That was her bartering for me to marry the Goat Guy like every year.”

“Yeah, that was not like every year.”  Sam snorted and I could practically hear her rolling her eyes.  “Since when do you know the Goat Guy?”

“Since January?”  I tried to look confused, but I’m pretty sure I was still grinning.  “You knew that.”

“No?”

“Yeah?” I countered.  “Gregory from psychology?”

The stared at me for a long moment before any of them spoke.  Sam’s friend was the only one who seemed more entertained than confused.

“That was Gregory from psychology?” my mom asked, and I shrugged, grinning wider.  “You planned this, didn’t you?  That’s why you kept texting him outside?”

I shrugged.  “I mean, we didn’t plan him getting arrested,” I admitted.  “But, yeah, we planned the rest.”

“How’d he steal the goats and the alpaca?” Cole wondered.

“He knows a guy.”

“Like that’s what’s important here.”  Sam rolled her eyes.

“Why?” my dad asked, and I shrugged again.

“Seven years’ worth of revenge.”

“That’s not what’s important either,” Sam interjected, huffing loudly.  “Kee’s totally dating the Goat Guy.  I called it.”

“We’re not dating.”  I rolled my eyes, pushing past them to continue through Bethlehem.  There should’ve been another apple cider vendor coming up soon, and I’d lost all the heat from the last one.

My family did not drop it through the rest of Bethlehem, and neither did any of the vendors who, apparently, knew exactly who I was (my toque was kind of distinctive, so I guess I’ll give them that) and let me know how sorry they were to hear that my man had been locked up just for trying to provide for his family.

We also saw the Goat Guy again, who had been locked up with the prisoners in a large cage, guarded by a handful of soldiers.

He grinned as he saw us approaching, calling out for me and sticking his arms through the bars.

“Can I borrow your notes later?” he asked.  “I’m in here for nineteen years, so I’ll be missing a bit of class.”

Sam and her friend posed for selfies with him, and then she made me pose for one with him that will definitely be used for blackmail at a later date.

And that was Bethlehem.  No one shut up on the entire drive home, or for the rest of Christmas break, for that matter, about the fact that I’d been keeping my knowing the Goat Guy a secret for almost a year—which I hadn’t, as I pointed out multiple times.  They all knew about Gregory from psychology, and he was literally in my phone as The Goat Guy.  It wasn’t my fault they hadn’t put the pieces together.

My family is convinced the Goat Guy and I are meant to be and still not entirely convinced that we aren’t currently dating, and I’m kind of dreading what that might mean for Bethlehem 2k18.  Honestly, I’d rather not have to deal with the fallout of my parents actually giving in and getting me a bartered husband, no matter how hot he might be.  But I feel like they’re going to accept one year, especially after what we did this year.  

The Goat Guy says his mom isn’t any better, and is already planning for next year but won’t let him know anything.  Maybe I can convince my parents that I never have to go back ever again.

Two weeks later, I caught the Goat Guy’s eye from across the psychology lecture hall, waving him over.

“Hey,” I said, grinning at him as he slipped into the seat beside me.  I turned to my friends.  “Guys, this is Gregory the Goat Guy.”

“Her fiancé,” he added, and I snorted at my friends’ incredulous looks and punched him gently in the shoulder.

“Not my fiancé,” I corrected, and turned back to him.  “The llama was impressive, but you know my dad’s expecting a camel.”

“Darn,” he said, laughing.  “I could have sworn you said llama.  I guess I’ll have to find a camel by next year if we ever want to get engaged.”  He paused, raising an eyebrow.  “But you know, I did get arrested before your parents had a chance to decline the offer this time.  Maybe they were going to say yes to the llama.”

“Wait,” my friend said, leaning around me to give the Goat Guy a once over.  “That story was real?  The Goat Guy actually exists?”

I will be here and I will be waiting for the next bit of this story come December

There is an epic trilogy brewing here. I can’t wait for part 3!

One more month till 2k18 goat guy

I can’t wait to find out what happens this year!

I’m reblogging now and thanks to tumblr’s wacky new notification system that gives me every update to everything I reblog ever, I’ll be able to see what happens next.

So, this feels really weird, but…thanks tumblr.

Please let there be a third installment!!!!

Thinking about this and your earlier post of "how to fake a death".....the whole Grady plot was invented just to "kill" Beth. Tptb have been really comics heavy since season 5. They could have fit Beth into a comic plot and killed her in a much easier way. Instead they built a whole working hospital plot around her....another Boulder to add to the TD mountain.

The Damn Romance Novel is Back

So this is probably going to start a shit storm. A great follower of mine, who sometimes brings me stuff, messaged me today about a C@ryl thread (X). In 7x10, C@rol is reading a romance novel right when Daryl comes up to her door. The book, Denim Dreams by Mary Warburton, does not exist. @bethgreenewarriorprincess and I looked. She could only find a Mary Warburton Booth, an Australian physician and welfare worker (X). The show has customized its own props before, like the gnome statue in 4x01 (X) and the painting in 5x09 (X), so it’s not unreasonably that they made this book as a specific egg. The entire book is one big Beth/Bethyl easter egg; Bethyl is the ‘damn romance novel’ of the show, Beth one of the story’s leads. Mary Warburton Booth role as a physician and welfare worker fits Beth, who cares for children and who has received medical training, which was highlighted in her action figure’s description.

In the thread, vcanizal2 noticed that the book cover has a piggyback on the cover. (I’m not tagging them as I don’t want to drag them into Bethyl stuff.) I repeat, C@rol’s romance novel had a man carrying a woman piggyback style. 

(picture credits to @bethgreenewarriorprincess)

The figures even match Bethyl’s basic appearance, as the woman has long blonde hair, the guy dark hair. vcanizal2 also found the stock photo that was likely used as the basis for the cover (X). Look familiar? 

Source (X).

The book appears in the episode where Daryl stays at a ideal house with a cemetery, similar to the funeral home, and where he shares a platonic dinner with a woman. It’s a big anti-parallel or mirror of Alone. Daryl left C@rol, his mother-sister figure. But he wouldn’t have left Beth, his love, who was torn from him. And she wouldn’t have let Daryl leave either. Her last words to him were, “I’m not going to leave you.” The yellow house is filled with romance novels because it is central to the Bethyl and Carzekiel romances, Gimple’s by-the-romance-novel love stories. Both are modern fairytales. It’s fairly obvious that Beth stayed or will have stayed at the yellow house at some point (X), and it is likely important to her relationship with Daryl in some way. The yellow house is a liminal place where love can find sanctuary amidst their dead world.

The relationships of Bethyl and C@ryl were set straight by the writers back in 401 when the words “damn romance novel” were first uttered by Daryl Dixon in the direction of Beth Greene. I talk about it in my post here. (X)

This just adds more evidence to the Bethyl romance and also seeds future plot.

You guys are amazing! I love you for finding this!

Beth’s Backpack

Beth had a black backpack that her and Daryl picked up at the Country Club.

 You can see that she is wearing at the funeral home in “Alone”

We all know that Beth lost her backpack when she was kidnapped by the Grady cops. Daryl finds it before he runs after the car with the cross on it. 

And then we never see what happened to her backpack…

But I just noticed something kind of crazy…

Tara finds her backpack in the mud in episode 507 “Crossed”

It’s all brown from all the mud but I am pretty sure that it’s Beth’s backpack. Why else would they even add that to the story line?

I am not sure why it is in there or what it means but it is pretty strange. 

We know she finds a Phillips screw driver and a yo-yo but they didn’t mention her finding anything else in it. 

What I want to know is how the bag got to the side of the road who found it? Who picked it up at the funeral home? 

How awesome it would be to find out, that Tara had Beth’s journal all along.

Yes!

If you look closely at all the buckles.....it really could be the same back pack.....note the third buckle near the bottom. I remember thinking this was an odd scene....

Where… where is she? Where is she?

this episode can’t be all them bc in the previews they showed negan and daryl….

The preview said "this season on" so they probably were showing a few episodes of previews

Daryl and Beth Holding Hands

Okay so I can’t get this out of my head.  I came across that gif of Daryl and Beth entwining fingers on my dashboard.  Whenever I see this gif or this clip of them holding hands, it stops me in my tracks every single time.  Because that kind of hand-holding.  It is very intimate, much more than a clasping of the hands.  And the way they did it so unconsciously, it is very telling.  I think it was not the first time they had held hands in this way, for comfort, for closeness, just to let the other know they were there.  I think by the way they entwined their fingers so automatically, they have done this before guys!  And I will be honest, I don’t think I realized the enormity of it the first time I saw it.  I think my jaw was dropped open at that point.  Because honestly it wasn’t until after I got on Tumblr and saw how everyone else was fangirling that I realized that it was not just my shipper goggles.  It actually happened; it meant something.  The writers don’t do anything by accident and I think this is just another of those instances.  And if you go back and watch it, there is nothing awkward about the way they hold hands.   There are no furtive glances, no wondering what the other is going to think if they hold hands.  They don’t overthink it; they just do it.  And I love that about them.  And it gives me hope for their future.  Because as we all know AMC has practically announced their romance is canon at this point.  There is going to be more physical contact in the future (trying to squelch my inner squealing right now).  They are eventually (please dear god!) going to kiss.  And then I think it will be a little awkward but once they get past that first kiss, look out!!  Of course it’s going to take a while for them to work up to being comfortable around each other again but I even with their separation I don’t think they will lose all their familiarity.  And then.  And then!  When they kiss, guys, after that first awkwardness, it is going to be ON!!  I think they are going to realize that they love each other with such ferocity that their passion is going to set the screen on fire.  *le sighs*  So that’s my two cents about their hand holding.  And holy cow, I just wrote a novel.  But I don’t care, because I love my Beth and Daryl and I know I am in good company.  Thanks for listening to my rant and Bethyl on. 

Reblogging because I got an ask and this pretty much sums up my thoughts on them holding hands in that graveyard. 😍

I was thinking about this and realised something else...why are they holding hands...? They are thinking about Hershel.  Both of them had loved Hershel. They saw him beheaded. Imagine seeing this happen to someone you love......how long of a recovery would you need?

When we see the holding hand moment the Beth and Daryl are at a point in their grief where they can just stop, quietly hold hands and lean on one another. After a few moments in silence they get on with their walk to the funeral home.

This kind of closeness and recovery through grief wouldn’t happen overnight. It implies a long passage of time....and a lot of time grieving together, talking, remembering, being there for one another.  It makes the hand holding natural...they have done this before, or comforted each other physically before this moment.

Don’t you think that’s beautiful?

HE WANTED TO STAY AT THE FUNERAL HOME WITH HER

HE WANTED TO STAY WITH HER

Imagine.....that was the last time Daryl was happy......

I had theme song here

No coda. I mean, I hoped, but I didn’t at all expect it.

Sigh.

the theme song played.....what’s with that?

In reality this “journey so far” show is just a big clip show and a big ad to build hype. It is not meant to add to the plot or explain things. It is glossing over so much that is important to the actual story. We shouldn’t put any stock in any of this show except to get us excited for next week.

Another reason that this clip show means nothing.....they barely talked to or mentioned much about the person many of us think is getting Lucilled. They also barely spoke to the other person there are rumours about. (Sorry for being vague, if you want to know who I mean check out the spoiler sites).

In reality this "journey so far" show is just a big clip show and a big ad to build hype. It is not meant to add to the plot or explain things. It is glossing over so much that is important to the actual story. We shouldn't put any stock in any of this show except to get us excited for next week.

This journey so far thing for the walking dead completely left out BOTH Still & Alone, not even a mention of her when they have to retrieve Hershel in season 2 or when the prison is over run with sickness in season 4. The first mention of Beth this entire show is Norman recapping Daryl & Carol taking off after the car with the white cross. Then the recap of Slabtown & Coda isn’t even about Beth, they talk about Noah and C@rol…

What the hell AMC.

They showed clips from both Still and Alone.

I know we are noticing the Beth stuff missing specifically but there are a whole lot of really really significant moments in the show that were either not mentioned or really glossed over fast. They are telling 6 seasons in 2 hours (with lots of commercials).

Shit.

He said it. Norman said it.

“Her dead body.”

I…I think I’m done.

You know, if he would have said “her lifeless body” i could still hold out. But clear as day, he said…

I think I’m gonna go cry myself to sleep.

To Daryl at that moment she is dead. They would not have left if they didn't ultimately think she died. They are all talking in present tense, meaning what they thought at that time. Doesn't change the mountain of wtf over the whole thing.

If you think Beth’s alive, hit reblog

If you think Beth’s alive, hit reblog

If your Team D and you know it and you really want to show it,

If you think Beth’s alive, hit reblog.