#Atlanta Black Crackers

[chunksupreme]

Chunk Supreme | 2024

[adultswim2021]

Freaknik: The Musical | March 7, 2010 - 11:30PM | Special

Whither That Crook’d ‘Sipp? 

Freaknik: the Musical! A special that I’m ill-equipped to truly go deep on because 1) I am a cracker-ass and 2) I live in a hell of my own making and sometimes it's far too difficult to tune out. Oh well! I’ll give it a shot, yuh know? See what happens! Also: I pledge to not google anything about this, so I will be speaking from my threadbare knowledge of the subject at hand.

Freaknik is based on a real-life recurring block party, or outdoor music fest, or something like that, held, uh, probably annually in, I’m guessing, Atlanta, Georgia. It probably has rap stuff going on and people probably have a lotta fun listening to live music and attempting to find sex partners among it's many attendees. I have gleaned this from the special itself, as well as the fact that when you search for this to see if it’s playing on any streaming services you’ll instead find a documentary called “Freaknik: a big party that happens” or something like that. 

This special follows a likable rap group who are down on their luck. They intend to travel to the big event so they can compete in some battle of the bands type thing. The party is happening because Freaknik, a ghostly personification of the party itself, has sprung back to life. I forget how. He’s a black ghost with money signs all over himself and hes real charismatic. He embodies good times, blackness, and above all, love. We see him going on a publicity tour, while a council of hater-ass black establishment figures (including mostly unidentified-but recognizable figures like Oprah, Jesse Jackson, Bill Cosby, and Al Sharpton) all scheme to stop Freaknik once and for all. 

The rap group have little adventures along the way, such as a memorable stop at a white frat. They tangle with a rival rap group, who look just like them. They meet a car full ‘o bitches and a brand new bong. One of the "bitches" is a character from That Crook’d ‘Sipp, but with a different name. There is almost no continuity between the two specials, just reused assets. That’s probably a best case scenario for That Crook’d ‘Sipp, which is maybe one of my least favorite things I’ve ever watched on Adult Swim. This is far from the worst thing. In fact, it’s fairly solid. 

That Crook’d ‘Sipp felt like it was speaking an alien language, and was borderline incomprehensible. This doesn’t feel that way. But, and I mean this in a non-insulting way, this show doesn’t feel like it’s for me. It’s a flavor I have a bit of a shallow distaste for. This is ultimately a good thing! I like when shows get on the air that are very specific and meant to appeal to a certain segment of the population.

I could quibble with the humor here and there, but I don’t think this special was designed with specifically pleasing me in mind. So why don’t I focus on the positive, instead? In fact, why doesn't everyone do this when faced with stuff that's not specifically for them? Okay , here I go: the characters are colorful! A lot of the drawings are great, funny, and cartoony! Even when it felt like it was about to veer into broad, stereotypical humor, it still pleasantly surprised me by aiming higher! It wasn’t boring, and a lot of the songs were pretty goddamn great! 

I actively enjoyed three moments in particular. One was the bit where Tyra Banks goes undercover as a corpse. This was a parody of the time she went undercover as an obese person utilizing a fat suit. (whoops, I googled this, just because I thought maybe I was confusing her with the episode of Fresh Prince of Bel Air where Will did that. Wait, wasn’t she on that show? Aw, geez!)

Moment two: the frat bros, who have their party shut down by the cops (you’ll hear famous white people Andy Sandburg and Bill Hader in this scene). When the cops leave, they lament being targeted by them, but then one says “I kinda like cops though, because they found the guy that killed my mom.” This right here is my favorite line in the show. 

The other part I liked, which I recalled from watching this way back when, was the scene where Al Sharpton is watching the news report that he died in his home after being struck by lightning. He looks around quizzically and then it happens. A lotta really fun cartoon gags like that are in this! I respect it!

Not my favorite thing to air on Adult Swim; not by a long shot. But the more I think about this show, especially its final act, the more I think that this special is pretty undervalued and underseen, and that’s a real shame. I honestly think that Adult Swim really should try to bring this back at some capacity. Maybe repeat it with a special promotion? Maybe a sequel? Maybe there’s a reason for it's absence that has nothing to do with Adult Swim or their parent company. But I think if they pushed this back out into the world and tried to get more eyes on it, only good things would come. 

MAIL BAG: 

From KON:

The funniest thing I ever said in my life was about Freaknik: The Musical. The special aired on the same night as the Oscars that year, the year that The Hurt Locker FAMOUSLY upset Avatar and won best picture. When the winner was announced, at one point they cut to James Cameron looking pissed. I said, "he's mad because he's missing Freaknik." Thank you, thank you

BIG LOL. I really do hope that he DVR’d it. And that he didn’t get it on DVD, because the DVD looks like shit. I hope he DVR'd it, or had a 1080p webrip from cartoonchaos on his seedbox.

THANK you for your neon knome review. As one of five people on planet earth who actually likes the problem solverz I'm glad to see another fan out there. Granted, PS was nowhere near as good as Neon Knome (even one of Ben Jones' own friends said it was 'too shouty'), but it's definitely not like, "Consistently and infamously ranked the worst cartoon of all time among a large amount of people" bad. Most of the hate seems to be from people who hate the brash art style and think the colors hurt their eyes, and from people who think that Alfe is annoying. I'll give them the latter, but like you said the style is very deliberate and I like how... 'visceral', it is, for lack of a better word. I unironically feel it was just too ahead of it's time and aired on the wrong network. This was when tumblr normies were geeking out over Adventure time, so something like this freaked them the F out and it stuck cause of word of mouth. Kinda like how Freddy Got Fingered was called 'the worst movie of all time' until pretty recently. I think if Neon Knome came out 15 years later, on [AS] in it's original form, people would love it. Cruelty Squad has like 10,000 positive reviews on Steam and it's just as visually abrasive/experimental as this is.

Thanks! Hopefully Criterion Channel will add Problem Solverz to it’s line-up so we can properly reassess it’s place in the culture at large. It does feel like if it got deleted by Zaslav that nobody in the world (except you and me, I guess) would stick up for it. People all snarkily saying “at least he got this one right”. The snark would be off the charts. The snark charts.

[sportstemplates]

Atlanta Black Crackers Negro League road jersey front logo (2013, 2016)

[lboogie1906]

In 1920 the Negro National League was formed by Andrew “Rube” Foster, a former player and manager for various teams. Taking advantage of the growth of the Black Northern urban populations during and following WWI, and insisting on Black ownership of the teams, he lead a group of team owners to create the Negro National League in Kansas City, Missouri on February 14, 1920. The league had eight teams: The Chicago American Giants, the Chicago Giants, the Cuban Stars (New York), the Dayton (Ohio) Marcos, the Detroit Stars, the Indianapolis ABCs, the Kansas City Monarchs, and the St. Louis Giants. The NNL was soon followed in 1923 by a rival league, the Eastern Colored League. Between 1924 and 1927 the two leagues met in a world series but the onset of the Great Depression in 1929 forced both leagues to fold. Teams emerged in the South as well including the Memphis Red Sox, the Birmingham Black Barons, the Atlanta Black Crackers, and the Jacksonville Red Caps.

Between (1931-37) several teams were formed and disbanded. The only survivors were the teams in the new NNL which operated (1933-36). Black players competed abroad often on teams in Mexico, Cuba, the Dominican Republic, and Venezuela

In 1937, two regional leagues were formed, the Negro American League in the East and the reformulated Negro National League in the West. Beginning in 1937 the winners of each league met in a world series of Black baseball. These leagues continued during WWII, but in late 1945 Jackie Robinson, who had played one season with the Kansas City Monarchs in the Negro Leagues, signed a contract with the Brooklyn Dodgers organization. By 1947, after a year in the minor league. After Robinson signed with the Dodgers, other (white) major league teams began signing many of the stars of the Black baseball leagues. By the end of 1950, most of the Black professional baseball leagues had disbanded although the Indianapolis Clowns, the inspiration for the film, The Bingo Long Traveling All-Stars & Motor Kings, continued playing until 1989. Approximately 3,400 players were part of the seven leagues operating (1920-50). #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence

[thesinglesjukebox]

DOECHII - WHAT IT IS (BLOCK BOY)

What It Is (Solo Version) (Sped Up) (Slowed Down) (Blurbed)

[6.42]

Michelle Myers: If you need a reminder of how times have changed, consider that the Atlanta rap group Trillville reached #14 on the Billboard charts in 2005. Their biggest hit, "Some Cut," is a crunk-adjacent trunk-blaster with nasty lyrics and enough funk in the beat to have sounded retro back then. Doechii's adroit reclamation of Trillville's iconic "what it is, ho?" hook over a "No Scrubs" sample feels powerful but never preachy. [8]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: This shouldn't work. By all indications, this is a crass gambit for pop crossover status, a promising rapper gluing together nostalgic samples and appending a guest verse from a noxious shithead who has nevertheless been one of the more consistent hitmakers in rap over the last half-decade. There's even a very silly EP of all the different "versions" of the song, featuring sped-up and slowed-down versions but no actual remixes. But "What It Is" isn't... that crass? For one, Kodak Black is no longer present, his middling guest verse and altogether awful vibes excised from the version of the track that actually gets rap radio play. And regardless of the version, Doechii is too good at her job to let this suck. While I prefer her more in rage or boom bap modes, she's still as stylish as ever, playing the role of pop-rap icon with enough poise that she might as well stay there as long as she can. [7]

Crystal Leww: "What It Is" feels like a relic from an era that doesn't exist anymore. It's when R&B-pop songs with a verse-chorus-verse-chorus-bridge-chorus structure with a guest rap verse could be genuine pop hits. It's from a time when artists could hit the 8-count -- hell, when music was made for an 8-count. It's a song about a crush that's bright rather than fucked up -- a feeling so light that it's like floating along the clouds. [7]

Katherine St Asaph: That Kandi/She'kspere sample has as much instant impact as it did the first time round in the '90s. But wow, you can really tell how incomplete this sounds without the Kodak Black verse that shouldn't have existed in the first place. [6]

Nortey Dowuona: This is just "Some Cut" but sung and including a mediocre Kodak Black verse. (Another thing he and Kendrick have in common?) The beat is thin and barely has a melody -- two piano chords under a pelting synth line and drums that are so spaced out they barely connect. I don't think any of these pieces gel into an actual song. Don't even know what Doechii is doing here -- this doesn't establish her as an artist, and the only good line isn't hers ("being black in America is the hardest thing to be"). What was so wrong with "Crazy"? At least "Crazy" actually banged -- this can't even cohere enough to suck. [4]

Brad Shoup: This would have been a passé chart ploy in 2009--a nod at crunk over some frothy pop-R&B. But now that I'm old I'm happy to hear both. [7]

Will Adams: Appealing in the way that any modern R&B-pop song that throws back to She'kspere is. Congrats to everyone who wished for a Kodak Black-free version. [6]

Leah Isobel: Doechii's timbre here is a little abrasive -- not unpleasantly so. She's tough, sharp. But she's not laid-back; she barrels through the track instead of working inside it, which is interesting given that both of the samples come from songs with a much more relaxed kind of energy. Of course, it's not like this beat is particularly relaxed either. It might be boxing her in. [7]

Rose Stuart: Fluffy pop flair limits Doechii's fire-cracker charm, keeping her from exuding her energy in the same way that made "Crazy" so visceral and alive. However, the discordant ringtone rap-esque beat is enough to keep things interesting. [5]

Ian Mathers: I really thought this might be the first year where the Jukebox didn't give me the genuinely lovely feeling I get when I hit play on a song I think I don't know and discover I've already heard and enjoyed it. But even in 2023, where it felt like I barely left the apartment, I heard this one out at least a couple of times. I'm not sure if that's inescapability or just luck. I do dimly recall there being some other element to this one, but oh well; whatever it is, I don't miss it. [7]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: Every line here can be memorized within a few listens, which means that any time it comes on, you can sing along to a series of hooks upon hooks. Doechii makes it look easy, too, as if inviting you to join in. No other single this year felt as generous. Hell, she even got rid of Kodak. [7]

Taylor Alatorre: In an attempt to provide the most controversial reasoning possible for the most un-controversial rating possible, I will say this: every generation gets the "All Summer Long" that it deserves. And since "All Summer Long" is a solid [6], I see no reason to rule any differently here. [6]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

[letterstomymothershewontread]

happy mothers day

Happy Mothers Day. This year instead of dinner, flowers, or even an appreciation post on Facebook, you're getting a card. You're getting a blank card in the mail with the link to this blog. In this blog you'll be reading my diary essentially. This letter, like many on this blog, are addressed to you so make sure you read them all.

Recently I've got to enjoy the fun parts of life and not have to worry if you'd be mad at me and gods has it been wonderful. I went to Atlanta at the end of April to celebrate my five year anniversary with the person you and dad seem to think made me cut y'all off. I'd like to say it's funny you think that or that I'm shocked but I'd be lying. We all know I'm many things but a liar aint one. I saw you try to call me and instantly hang up on April 29th, I wonder if it was an accident or not. Regardless I didn't answer, not like I had a chance even if I wanted to, you hung up instantly. I've thought about it on and off and I just wonder if you wanted to apologize or just fake apologize. I say fake apologize because it's that apology you've always done, 'I'm sorry for whatever I did to upset you'. I so wish you did know, that would make this less painful.

I've gone through so much change in the last 5 months alone and everyday has felt uncomfortable, like somethings missing. It's because there is, my mom. I've realized I've had you on a pedestal for so long it's still hard for me to look beyond the nostalgia fog and see my childhood for what it really was, abusive. Almost everyday I want to pick up my phone and call you to tell you about my day, tell you about my plans, or just hear your voice. I don't though, I wont risk my progress in my healing, not on a phone call.

I think that the reason you were so mean was because you havent healed from or even acknowledged your own childhood trauma. It's okay to admit that your mom or dad even wasn't the best. They love(d) you there is no doubt there and they did their best but, that doesn't make them perfect or without flaw. That cycle like the one before it and before are bound to repeat, just like this one. That is until you make the conscious effort to stop it.

When I think about my childhood a few core memories come to mind, allow me to paint them for you. The first is when dad strangled me for calling him a son of a bitch and you stood there and let me struggle until I started to black out. The second is when dad would want to play a board game and we played scatagories. I thought that was fun. The third is one night when it was supper time and you made spaghetti and I was so exhausted because I was so depressed and suicidal I fell asleep and fell into my plate. It's funny how that was during the peak of my anorexia and then later my bulimia. You had no idea. The reason why you had no idea is because you do the same thing but you think it's something to be proud about.

"Oh my god you look so good! How did you lose all the weight?" they would say to you and you always reply bragging about how all you eat is a park of crackers and some peanut butter. I started copying you except all I would eat was a few spoonful's of peanut butter a day. That was in the midst of the time I would just come home and go straight to my room and be alone. I was alone so I could listen to music you hated that you think made my depression worse, starve myself, and to hurt myself. When I wasn't doing any of that I'd just sleep and hope I'd die in my sleep.

The fourth was when we would play Wizard101 together as a family. I wish I had more fond memories of happy things but I don't at least not enough that out weigh the negative. One memory that's been weighing on me lately is that of your infidelity. How you used to have me ride the bus to your work and I'd have to sit in a closet for hours cause your higher up boss was coming, or cause you were busy doing inappropriate things at a place you were supposed to be working. Dad later found out and I don't know how nor does it matter. What matters is that it led to you two separating and I was so happy you were. Yall ended up getting back together and I to this day wish you wouldn't have.

You left a lot of scars on my life as did dad and sissy but unlike theirs, I'm having to uncover yours day after day with different events I learn that trigger me. It's hard. Being in contact and without contact and maybe one day we could have an actual conversation about everything. I doubt it however, you never listen to me and actually hear me when I talk to you. You never have and I know you'll deny it cause sometimes you did but never when I needed you to. I wouldn't have tried to kill myself so many times.

All this to be said, I know you love me, I do.

[portiaadams]

I’m just...screaming with excitement.

[humanhoods]

[demmyfuji]

[oskarlevant]

[prettykiti]

Spring 2021 at my house 🥺

[thelanterncity]

i just wanna know what happened to abolishing the police

[thehighbrow]

ATL ABC

[sportstemplates]

Atlanta Black Crackers Negro League home jersey front logo (2013-2016)

[lboogie1906]

In 1920 the Negro National League was formed by Andrew “Rube” Foster, a former player and manager for various teams. Taking advantage of the growth of the Black Northern urban populations during and following WWI, and insisting on Black ownership of the teams, he lead a group of team owners to create the Negro National League in Kansas City, Missouri on February 14, 1920. The league had eight teams: The Chicago American Giants, the Chicago Giants, the Cuban Stars (New York), the Dayton (Ohio) Marcos, the Detroit Stars, the Indianapolis ABC’s, the Kansas City Monarchs, and the St. Louis Giants. The NNL was soon followed in 1923 by a rival league, the Eastern Colored League. Between 1924 and 1927 the two leagues met in a world series but the onset of the Great Depression in 1929 forced both leagues to fold. Teams emerged in the South as well including the Memphis Red Sox, the Birmingham Black Barons, the Atlanta Black Crackers, and the Jacksonville Red Caps. Between 1931 and 1937 several teams were formed and then disbanded. The only survivors were the teams in the new NNL which operated from 1933 to 1936. Black players competed abroad often on teams in Mexico, Cuba, the Dominican Republic, and Venezuela In 1937, two regional leagues were formed, the Negro American League in the East and the reformulated Negro National League in the West. Beginning in 1937 the winners of each league met in a world series of Black baseball. These leagues continued during WWII, but in late 1945 Jackie Robinson, who had played one season with the Kansas City Monarchs in the Negro Leagues, signed a contract with the Brooklyn Dodgers organization. By 1947, after a year in the minor league. After Robinson signed with the Dodgers, other (white) major league teams began signing many of the stars of the Black baseball leagues. By the end of 1950, most of the Black professional baseball leagues had disbanded although the Indianapolis Clowns, the inspiration for the film, The Bingo Long Traveling All-Stars & Motor Kings, continued playing until 1989. Approximately 3,400 players were part of the seven leagues operating between 1920 and 1950. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence https://www.instagram.com/p/CopNwv-Lmw7/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[daryldaddydixon]

Second Father

Hi guys 😄 I’m back again with another 3am crack fic!

Summary: Daryl and the reader begin to develop a father/daughter relationship and after giving Daryl a scare she surprises him even more.

Warnings: Daryl x Daughter/Teen!reader, gunshot wound, twd type violence, cuteness and fluff

*not my gif*

You were only thirteen when the apocalypse began. You and your parents had been lucky enough to stumble upon a camp of survivors in an abandoned quarry after escaping the city. At first, the group of survivors that had taken you in were wary of your family and you all understood why, but they soon warmed up to you. One member of the group was especially fond of you. Daryl Dixon. Initially, he wanted nothing to do with you, thinking you were just some helpless, scared kid. You finally started to grow on the hot-head after asking him to teach you how to hunt. You saw how he provided for the camp and you wanted to learn so you could help provide for the camp too. He rudely declined your first few requests but you hit him back with your own sarcasm and didn’t let his rudeness get to you. You persisted in asking him to teach you until he finally caved. With the consent of your parents, he promised you one hour, no more and you happily accepted.

Within that one hour you shocked him with how easily you picked up tracking skills. You even helped him track a deer and then caught your own squirrel with Daryl’s crossbow. Of course he helped you hold it up to aim since it was heavy but you still took all the credit and he gladly let you. After that day you became Daryl’s protégée and he started taking you out on lessons regularly. Your parents were very fond of the archer and grew to trust him with their only daughter’s life. At first Merle thought Daryl was stupid for getting attached to some random kid but eventually you even grew on the older Dixon. Eventually you had earned the nickname Mini Dixon, having managed to gain the affection of both brothers. Though you mainly stuck by Daryl’s side as Merle was still a bigger ass than Daryl ever was. Between your parents and the Daryl you managed to find happiness even in the middle of the end of the world.

When the new guy, Rick, arrived and you found out Merle was left behind in the city you were sad. Despite you always being closer to Daryl and Merle being an ass you knew that Merle had cared for you to some capacity and you didn’t wish for him to die. You went to find Daryl to see if he was okay but when you found him he had yelled at you for the first time since before he took you on your first hunting lesson. Being the little fire cracker you were, you yelled back before walking off so you could both cool down. Daryl had felt terrible about yelling at you and went to apologize before going back to Atlanta to look for Merle. You wanted to go with him and the other guys but he quickly shut that idea down and instead made you promise to keep your parents and the camp safe. You pinky promised him. And when the walkers invaded the camp you fought with everything you had to keep that promise but you couldn’t. You couldn’t protect your parents, let alone the rest of camp.

Once Daryl and rest of the group returned from Atlanta he immediately ran to find you, fighting his way through walkers. When he finally found you his heart broke for you. He had found you crying over the corpses that were your parents. The archer couldn’t find any words so he just knelt down and hugged you while you cried. Ever since that night Daryl had unofficially taken over the role of your guardian.

Without Merle, you were the one person Daryl cared about more than anything. He’d never admit it but over time he started to view you as his own daughter.

Daryl was beyond relieved when they group found the prison. He was glad that you would have a safe place to live and grow up in. During your time at the prison you and Daryl grew closer than ever. He showed you new tracking and hunting techniques and even managed to find you your own crossbow while he was out on a run. Now that you were slightly older and bigger you were able to hold it up on your own. He even taught you how to make you own arrows like he did.

Since you had your own crossbow and were older you finally convinced Daryl to take you on a run.

That’s where you were now, rummaging through an abandoned drug store. After deeming the store clear you, Daryl and Glenn agreed to split up to cover more ground.

“Be careful, kid. Weapon up, got it?” Daryl warned.

“Got it,” you said and Daryl smiled at you before going down his aisle.

Unfortunately, the store wasn’t completely cleared. When you crossed over into your next aisle you came face to face with a burly man who had his gun drawn. Before you could act he pulled the trigger.

Daryl heard the gunshot from a few aisles down and sprinted towards the source of the shot.

“Y/N!” He called out.

When he found your body unconscious on the ground the man who shot you didn’t have to time to finish reloading his gun before Daryl tackled him.

“What did you do!” He screamed, punching the man before grabbing his knife and the stabbing it through the shooter’s face.

“No, no, no, no,” he mumbled crawling over to your body, “Glenn!” He screamed.

“Daryl? Y/N,” Glenn called, rounding the corner to find Daryl frantically tying his belt around your torso to stop the bleeding.

“Get the car! Now!” Daryl said. He didn’t bother looking up as Glenn made a run for the car. He focused on tying his belt around you as tight as he could before lifting you up and running to the car.

“Drive! Now!” Daryl called from the backseat. “You’re gonna be okay. Ya hear kid? You’re gonna be just fine. You’re gonna be okay,” he kept repeating this until you reached the gates of the prison where you were taken by Hershel and Maggie. Daryl wanted to follow you and sit while they worked on you in your cell but Rick held him back. “Give them room to help her,” Rick had said. Now Daryl was just pacing back and forth in the hall right out side your cell. Rick and Carol both tried to get the archer to sit down and rest or eat but he refused.

Daryl couldn’t focus on anything but his thoughts. You had to be okay. You had to, Daryl couldn’t bear to loose you. Over the past year you had become the daughter Daryl never got to have and you couldn’t leave him now. Not like this. You couldn’t die like this you were only a kid.

It was nearly sunset by the time Hershel pulled back the curtain and walked out of your cell.

“Is she okay?” Daryl asked immediately, his voice slightly cracking.

“She’ll be okay,” Hershel nodded, “the bullet went clean through, it’ll be some time but eventually the Mini Dixon will be good as new,” Hershel smiled, “she’s still sleeping but you can see her now. She won’t be awake for a while.”

“Thank you,” Daryl gasped out as his system flooded with relief. Hershel nodded in response.

Daryl took a deep breath before entering your cell. Even though he had just heard that you would be okay the sight of you pale and unconscious broke his heart. He pulled a chair up next to your bed and took one of your hands in his.

“Hey, kid,” he whispered, “gave me a scare back there. It’s okay though, Hershel says ya gonna be fine. So I just need ya to rest up and then open up them pretty eyes. Okay, kid?” Daryl swallowed his tears as he watched you lay there, helpless.

Hours passed and different people came in to check on you but Daryl couldn’t keep track of who. He was too focused on you. After a while, your eyelids fluttered open and you woke up feeling severely disoriented.

“Y/N,” you heard someone call your name. The voice was echoey but familiar though you couldn’t quite place a face to the voice. That’s when you felt the weight in your hand and looked over the side of your bed though your vision was clouded with black blots. Bits and pieces of what happened slowly started to com back to you. The drug store, the man, the feeling of hitting the tiled floor when he pulled the trigger.

“Hey, kid. There’s them pretty eyes. You’re okay, ya need rest. Sleep, kid.” You heard the voice say. It sounded like a man.

“M’kay dad,” you slurred, “love you,” and you passed out again.

Daryl stared at you in shock as you fell back into a deep sleep. Sure, he had always thought of you as his daughter but hearing you call him “dad” made it so real. Letting a tear slip, he squeezed your hand and placed a kiss on your forehead.

You didn’t wake up again for a few hours and this time you remembered everything. Even calling Daryl “dad”. You mentally smacked yourself. Sure, you had thought of Daryl as a second father since your biological dad died but you knew he wasn’t one for emotions so you kept that to yourself.

Finally coming out of your thoughts you noticed the cell was empty and a sob escaped your mouth followed by a wince as you remembered your wound. Daryl was gone. Did you scare him away by calling him dad? What if he thought you were crazy?

In reality Daryl just had to use the bathroom and he was on his way back to your cell when he heard your sob. He ripped the curtain open and saw you awake and crying.

“Y/N,” he knelt down next to your bed, “what’s wrong, kid?” He gave you a moment to catch your breath before responding. “I thought you left me,” you said tearfully, breaking Daryl’s heart for the hundredth time in twenty four hours.

“Why would ya think that, kid?” Daryl was confused, he’d never abandon you and he thought you knew that. You hesitated before responding.

“Last night, I, uh, I called you dad. Thought I freaked you out and that you decided to leave me.” You admitted. Daryl was silent for a moment.

“I didn’t mind it,” he confessed. And it was true, he always saw you as his daughter and hearing you call him dad just felt right even if I was shocking.

“Really?” You questioned with wide eyes. He nodded at you. “So,” you hesitated, “would it be okay if I, uh, called you that from now on? I kinda of, um, seen you as a father since, uh ya know,” you trailed off. Daryl knew what you were referring to, the night your parents died.

“If you want ta,” he said, “I, um, I don’t mind it, kid.” You smiled at him.

“So then that makes you my Dad,” you smirked up at the man as he smiled down at you.

“Sure do, kid. Sure do. Now get some rest and heal up,” he patted your head and kissed your temple.

Looking at you smile at him before closing your eyes to sleep, Daryl silently promised to be the best father possible. He vowed to be nothing like his own father. You were his daughter, biological or not, and Daryl would protect you with everything he had.