#andrea dale
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binary-bird · 8 days ago
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barbie scene redraw
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apocalypticclownin · 2 months ago
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What's so tragic and difficult about season 1-2 walking dead and their treatment of daryl is how hard he tried to be a good member of the group. he defended camp in season 1, he fought to get out of the c.d.c with everything he had, he saved t-dog with no hesitation, he looked for sophia (he looked for that girl every single day!!) the moment they told him they needed something daryl made it happen. he even had the drugs to fight tdogs infection. AND he was offering everyone as much comfort as he could along the way. The way his conversations with carol and andrea went,,,, the man just wanted to make things okay in his on way. and people judged him so much for being a hick and never thanked him for all of the effort he put into everything he did- and because they never thanked him and showed him the kindness he deserved he genuinely thought they looked down on him in the way merle said.
ugh
season 2 daryl dixon you mean everything to me
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havin-fun-imagining-twd · 1 month ago
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What - it's nothing to panic about, Lori's secret pregnancy, Shane's changes for the worse, Sophia gone for over a week, and now a barn full of walkers. It's fine. No big deal, nothing is wrong, so you're gonna step onstage and act like it. On the bright side, Daryl isn't stuck in a bed anymore!
When - the morning after Keep this dog asleep. (the night where Glenn discovers the barn in Season 2)
Who - this is part of the Slowpoke Series, which is a canon compliant slow burn Reader x Daryl. You're also Shane's younger sibling
Pronouns - she/her
TWs - a few cusses, panic, bad screenshots
References - lots, y'all, want the Masterlist?
Length - longer bc I've been awol, I've been dreading posting again, friends, so thank you much for reading. Kind feedback is always welcome :)
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“Goodness. You two slept together.”
“Wha—Carol!” you squeak, accidentally splashing some coffee on your hands while you’re at it, to which Carol apologizes, “Oops!”
Glenn and you fell asleep beside each other, by the fire pit. You two must have conked out while staring at the barn.
Brr, the sun hasn’t warmed the day yet, you’re like an ice-pop.
“Wh’appened?” Glenn mumbles, still half-asleep in Dale’s camp chair.
Carl, freshly freed from the house and now officially back to the tents, also wanted to know, “What was the joke?”
“Sorry, couldn’t resist,” Carol whispers in your ear and wipes the coffee off your hand with a tissue she had in her pocket.
That ship has sailed, Carol!
Lori smiles and shakes her head, and hands Glenn a coffee cup. “Carol was teasing them about having spent the night out here. Must’ve stayed up far too late having fun.”
“‘Fun,’” Glenn groans to himself, blindly nursing his coffee. You notice he winces and reaches for the back of his neck when he tries to bend it forward. Must’ve slept on it wrong.
“How late did you guys stay up?”
“I don’t even know, little man,” you answer Carl while reaching out for a hug. “But ‘far too late’ sure is correct.”
He returns your reach and hugs you back, tucking his head down across your neck like he used to when he was little. You press a kiss to his temple and hold him awhile longer, not wanting to let go first.
It’s good to have started the day on an up-note. You’re already on guard this morning. Less so about the genuine, bona-fide barn full of walkers on the property and moreso that Glenn won’t keep the secret long enough.
Which is backwards, but…the worry is that Shane will, um, and, and— oh God, and Carl can’t go near it! What are you gon—
“—Here, Maggie left these for you two.” Lori has returned and plunks down what resembles an Easter basket filled with peaches.
“Wait, should you be lifting heav—” Glenn cuts himself off, apparently having woken up a brain cell and remembering the pregnancy is still a secret.
You run onstage and speak up for Lori. “That’s how her arms stay so toned. Can you believe she hand-whipped the cream for the ambrosia?” Solid improv.
Lori seems to tamp down on whatever frustration she’s feeling. “It’s not heavy, Glenn.”
“Mom can lift so much, that puny basket of peaches is nothing,” Carl tells him, apparently thinking Glenn was being dumb.
Rattled, it takes a moment before Lori recalls what she was talking about. “Maggie also gave us a bucket filled with tomatoes along with another big bowl of eggs. We have to find a way to thank them. They’ve done so much.” She sighs. “Even last night, we cooked the meal, but they provided the food. Meat, even. All we contributed food-wise was the field green salad and the two cans of creamed corn.”
You’ve got to keep it to yourself that by not revealing the Greene’s massive secret about a barn full of walkers, you’re certainly giving them some kind of fucked up recompense.
And like you said last night, there are worse things to be bribed with than food. In fact, you have no immediate plans to do anything other than sit here, miserably tired, in T-Dog’s camp chair and stress-eat peaches — and stick close to Glenn lest he get the urge to open Pandora’s box about that barn.
“Carl, Miss Patricia hopefully mentioned how the barn is unstable? They won’t even go near it, and we are forbidden.” You swipe a peach and have at it. The juice dribbles down your hand and chin. Carl smirks. You snort; at least he’s seen you look grosser. So, in a very ladylike fashion, you shove the rest of it in your mouth in one bite and immediately swipe another. “There’s some kind of vermin problem, too, and you don’t want none of them diseases rats and the like carry. Keep away.”
Mid-chew, you realize that you just lied flawlessly by slipping in truth. You’re not big on lying. In fact, you hate it. You don’t do it, or, at least you think you don’t? Do you?
This and the weight of last night’s inward decision that you made sits heavy in your stomach, making the peach sink like a rock.
You’re going to leave, with your brother. Shane can’t stay here, not when the news of the baby and now the barn gets out. You’ll even go to Fort Benning despite all your misgivings. Anything to keep things from imploding here when those secrets get out. Not, um, not that you’ll stay away forever from the group, just until, um…
Well, if looks are any indication, Glenn’s also busy being miserably tired and stressed. He was the one to discover the barn’s secret, first off. And he’s not good with secrets, and now has three to contend with. The pregnancy, Shane losing his temper and physically hurting you. And now, the stupid, stupid, awful barn.
“Did your head flop down when you fell asleep, Glenn?”
“It must’ve, it’s so stiff!” he mutters. “I can’t have a stiff neck when the…”
Smart, he knows not to finish the sentence and instead resumes warily eyeing the barn. You’re grateful your neck is fine and dandy, you’re in no fit state to mess up your neck or shoulder again. For real, by the grace of God, you’d fallen asleep nestled in T-Dog’s camp chair and your neck stayed blessedly straight and untwisted.
“We search for Sophia in groups, it’s all good,” you cover for him. Carl is still next to you, so the fewer questions, the better.
Maybe it’s the lack of sleep, but you’re restless. Seeking something to busy your hands with, you think to yourself you know what? Your friend could use a massage. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do, considering you slept together (lol).
Shoving the rest of the second peach in your mouth, you consider that slurping the juice off your hand may be a mite untoward, so instead you…wipe it on the clothes you wore all day yesterday and fell asleep in…such a feminine, classy woman. Didn’t even brush your teeth last night.
Whatever, a neck and shoulder rub is the least you can do for a friend you may not see again. “Glenn, I can do you a massage,” you offer.
“Wait. Really?”
“’Course.” Let’s face it, you may not see him again after you leave. Maybe no one here, just look at the track record of losing peop — oh my gosh, crybaby much? Get your butt back onstage and act fine.
“Can you, with your arm still wrapped like that?” he checks regarding your modified sling.
“Sure can.”
“Dude, that would be, like,” Glenn sighs, then you hear Lori call for Carl, who gets up and goes to his mother. “Thank you, that would be awesome, it hurts really bad,” your friend accepts.
“Eh, it’s the least I could do, considering last night we did,” pause for dramatic effect, “sleep together.”
“What the h—”
“—Bro, I know," you drone. "That’s what Carol joked about a few minutes ago. Didn’t expect that joke outta her, right?”
“Slept together, now I get it,” he cracks up halfheartedly. But in an instant, his gaze gets drawn right back toward the barn and resettles into uneasy, blatant stare.
That rattles you. Suddenly, you become convinced he’s gonna spill the beans before the one week (at least one week!) trial. For a few moments, you feel breathless, as in you can’t inhale enough. That happened last night, too, you figured it was because of the cold air.
You cough, inhale extra deep. The sensation goes away. But now you’re starting to get mad. As you rise from the chair, you’re more than conscious of your inner kettle beginning to simmer. Not gonna lie, you sound snotty when you comment, “Glad to see they didn’t learn how to jump as high as a hayloft and find their way out yet.”
“Y/N.”
In lieu of any new comeback, you start on his neck. Immediately and likely without meaning to, he lets out a thankful groan. That warms you, and you remind yourself he’s worried for a good reason and that you love your friend.
And, strangely, then you think back to how you did this for Daryl, gave him a massage. How pleasant the closeness felt, how strange it made your stomach feel. How he’d silently cried but was vulnerable enough to ask you not to stop…
And with the jokes about you and Glenn, you’re feeling some unpleasantly conflicting emotions. Full disclosure, you’d had some hidden and very unwelcome hurt feelings when you found out about him and Maggie. Residual, you reckon, from when you’d two had a little fondness (lol Dale) for each other.
Really, you know it’s just that you’re lonely and things are stressful. More than stressful.
“Wanna kick the ball around later with the others, see if the girls can’t beat y’all this time?” Together, Jimmy and he have been an unbeatable team so far, and you three girls want to change that.
“Anything to make the pharmacy trip suck less.”
Man, you’d forgotten all about that. It’s supposed to feature none other than Glenn, Maggie, yourself, and maybe T-Dog. “That’s still on?”
Glenn shrugs. “I don’t remember. And I don’t want to go today, let’s do it tomorrow or Monday.”
“Fine by me. Naught dire we need yet.”
He unexpectedly exhales in pleasure when you must’ve hit a spot he needs worked out.“I haven’t gotten a massage since, like,” your friend sighs again, and he sounds weighed down when he continues. “Varsity baseball in high school. Appa was really good at shoulder rubs.”
“Oh.” A memory about his dad might will probably spark a whole lot of memories, and he’s still iffy about crying in front of people. “Want me to stop?”
“Heck no.”
“Are you cool with crying? Massages sometimes do that,” you hesitate.
“What do you mean?”
“I meant the act itself can make folk cry sometimes.” Especially if memories get brought up.
“Make ‘folk’ cry?” he teases. "You already used the word 'naught,' too, bumpkin."
You pause the massage to give him a very light shove. “Shut up, buttface.”
Breakfast is eggs again, you can smell them cooking. The Greenes have been very generous with eggs. And, of course, now extra-generous with the peaches and some tomatoes, apparently. Maybe the thrill of yellow squash or string beans is in the future, too.
Ooh, or dairy. Oh my gosh, or red meat! Jimmy mentioned they’ve made a ton of jerky what with their cattle.
“G’morning,” you hear Shane behind you.
“Heya.”
“Morning, Shane.”
The razzing is clear in his tone of voice, but try telling that to Glenn as your brother says, “Lookin’ cute, you two. Didn’t know this was a thing now, I thought that ship had sailed.”
Yeahhhhh, Glenn wriggles away from your hands quicker than you can whine, “Shaney!” who simply cracks up, “Just teasing.”
“I’ll tease your face,” you wish you weren’t snickering back. “And you know my heart belongs to darling Theodore,” you add in an exaggerated accent.
T-Dog, unfortunately, hears, and utters a soft “Da hell?” aaand you cackle even harder. Surely he knows the not-so-secret secret that you think he’s a catch? Too old for you, but, like. What a gem.
“Glenn, my apologies.” Shane winks. “It’s too easy to rile this one up. And Dog, don’t worry.”
“It’s cool,” Glenn answers so awkwardly.
You scrunch your lips at your brother in an effort not to smile. He’s acting like himself again, the real Shane. You don’t feel as if you’re looking at a stranger, you don’t feel the urge to stay on-guard or stay onstage. “Proud of yourself?”
He shrugs with a lazy grin. “It is real easy to rile you up.”
“Mmhm, well I’m fixing to escape to Fort Benning right now, lemme just wash up first.” You insert this little seed in hope it takes root. He was planning to go there before things changed.
He was planning to go without your input or foreknowledge, too, but he was doing what he thought was best for the group. For Lori and Rick.
Until he didn’t anymore, according to what he said to Lori.
That night, the same day Daryl had almost died, was something else.
The things he said to Lori echo in your head, the confident flirting while she was visibly unreceptive and shaken.
Then you recall the way he’s been “pragmatic” and almost irritated about the continuing search for Sophia.
Then the way he blew up at you, hurt you.
And finally, how your first reaction to finding out there was a barn filled with walkers a mere one minute trek from where your people are sleeping in tents was to insist that the secret must be kept from Shane at all costs. That the secret had to stay that way because of what would happen if Shane found out.
Maybe it’s from sleeping too close to the campfire or because it was so chilly last night, but the breathing trouble is back. It's fine, this happened last night, it ended up being fine.
You cough a few times to try and inhale more deeply and ease the tightness in your chest, but you feel strange and a little nauseous. Maybe you're coming down with something.
“Lemme take over here — aw, Glenn, hey, sit back on down,” Shane insists to your friend who just tried to escape. “Heard you slept on your neck wrong. That shit stinks, man. But,” he holds out his hands and wiggles his fingers. “I got so much practice with massages from this one’s migraines, I might should switch careers. C’mon then,” he says lightheartedly.
The unease you just wrestled with lessens. This is the real Shane, the confident, even cocky, but goodhearted one.
Huh, cool, your breathing feels a little better, too.
He looks at you and points with his thumb toward the house. “The uh, the little one, what’s the blonde girl’s name again?”
“Soph—oh! Um, sorry, y-you mean ‘Beth,’” you stammer, all the mirth from a moment ago zapped.
The look in your brother’s eyes changes from easygoing to dampened to cold.
He tries to sound nonchalant behind a thin veil of both defense and offense. “Yeah, the, uh, the teenager. She asked for you.”
“Okay. Thanks.” You’d be off like a shot if there wasn’t another potential time bomb to worry about.
Glenn.
To your friend, you assure in truth, “He does give a mighty solid massage.” But when you lean over enough for him to see your face, you can feel your eyes darken when you hold the finger to your lips and set your jaw.
And as you make toward the house with your coffee and another two peaches, you’re grappling with the fact that, in an effort to keep Glenn quiet so everything won’t blow to pieces, you’re behaving not unlike the very person that you’re trying to prevent from igniting the explosion in the first place.
Another worry is the way you so easily slipped in and out of being onstage.
You’ve always been one to insist on truth and honesty. It’s a badge of honor you wear with pride, and even Daryl, prickly grump Daryl, has mentioned it and appreciates that about you.
And yet, look at your conduct over the past week or so. You can certainly lie, and be believable at it. You don’t like that.
Ew, gross, you’re getting nauseous again.
As you near the porch, Beth’s soft, clear voice calls your name, and she exits the house to meet you. “I got somethin’ for you. Can you come upstairs?”
“Sure. Your dress is cute!” comes out automatically. You’re still dazed and stressed. Her sundress really is pretty, though. Briefly, you consider how it would be nice to feel feminine again.
She leads you up the stairs, and it strikes you how odd it is that you have to go upstairs for whatever she’s going to give you, right? Then, you worry that it’s to do with the barn.
And you’re right.
Or, at least, you think you are. Maggie is upstairs when Beth brings you there.
The tightness comes back, so you focus on your breathing and will your stomach to chill out. You're onstage, you need to perform.
“Y/N, hi!” Margaret says this a little overly chipper, even though her appearance suggests that she’s had about as much shut-eye as you, if not less. “Sleep okay?”
“A-About as well as you, I reckon,” you answer with a hint of humor and only a trace of a stress stutter. Buying time with a few more coughs, before you get too defensive, you play it off as if Beth does not know that you and Glenn know. “We stayed up far too late and ate way too many peaches,” you say the girl. Which is the truth, you aren’t lying! You aren't lyi — nope, don't you cry! Stay onstage, stay onstage, stay onstage—
—As it so happens, now is when you recall how you are currently carrying two peaches in your hand, so your cheeks heat. The urge to cry goes away, so, small win. “I ate way too many, at least.”
Beth giggles. “I love peaches, too. I had peach cobbler as my birthday cake two years ago. The ones we grow are so good!”
“Thank you for the basket of food, by the way, it was very kind.” Very kind bribery, please keep it up, we haven’t had this much available food in months, in fact, we’ll probably do anything you ask us if you let us stay here!
“There’s plenty more where the peaches came from. The season’s almost over, but we still have bushels left to pick, the hens haven’t slowed production yet, and we’re almost out of canning supplies we’ve done so many,” Maggie responds.
Beth is opening a big trash bag on her bed that looks like it’s filled with blankets, so Maggie takes the opportunity to lock eyes with you again. She mouths, “Thank you.”
For not saying anything? “She doesn’t know we know?” you mouth back.
She shakes her head.
You relax muscles you didn’t know you were tensing.
“Yay, I got it open without rippin' it!” Beth exclaims. “Y/N, Maggie and I had gathered up a bunch of clothes for charity, but that’s when things got, w-well,” she halts, unsure of how to describe the outbreaks. “The bad things happened, but, um, we, well, we still had all the donations bagged. Daddy and Shawn also…” She quiets at mentioning her deceased older brother and turns weepy.
Her big sister finishes for her. “Shawn donated clothes, too. And Mom.” She swallows. “There’s plenty to share with your group, is what she means.” Maggie nods her head at the bag on the bed, then to two others on the floor.
They're sharing...all of those?
You don’t get a chance to ask it because Beth is already answering. “When I saw how y’all looked, it was scary. The,” she starts, then stops. “Not that you were scary, I meant y’all must’ve been out there a long time. It’s scary to think about.”
“In your defense, I did look scary the first time you saw me.” Wild hair, sweat-drenched, sobbing, and covered in Carl’s and your own blood. Rough day.
But having been ‘out there,’ as Beth worded it, it’s not so scary when you’re with a group you trust. It even feels comforting to have them all. Which is when you consider how Shane and you will be back out there in a couple weeks, alone.
“Here.” Beth shyly points to the bag. “I wanted to offer for you to look through the bags first. If, if you want.”
The offer is (more) bribery to keep you quiet, which cools the warmth of the charity, but doesn't lessen the grateful tears you spill. Plus, yes, you all could use some fresh clothes, there’s only so much mending that can be done. And to be offered first dibs, even if it’s just to butter you up, is still being offered first dibs. “I’d love to take a look, thank you,” you say in earnest.
Beth combs through the bag and chats in her shy manner, handing you a barely-worn, calf-length dress that had been gift for Maggie, then a (pure wool?!) cardigan their mother had been giving away.
You find it hard to believe that she’s doing this as bribery, Beth doesn’t seem the sort to easily conceal things. She’s got an innocence that hits as genuine.
But, then again, you who hate dishonesty are apparently great at it. Who’s to say she’s not, too?
The breathlessness briefly comes back. You clear your throat and cough once.
Beth next, to your apprehension and then delight, has you try on the dress and cardigan (which shockingly fit). While retying the modified sling around your upper arm, Maggie keeps trying to catch your eye again in order to, you don’t know, communicate something via meaningful glance? But you don’t have the bandwidth for it, so return her look with a polite smile and shrug.
Her little sister then proceeds to gussy you up in a way reminiscent of how Amy did once at the quarry camp to see how Glenn would react. Gosh, was that only two-ish months ago, wasn’t it? Or has it been longer? It feels like longer.
Beth has manages a quick, respectable braided style for your hair, touches up your eyebrows for you, and even adds blush. She then claims that your hiking boots “look okay” with the ensemble and has you use the full length mirror in her closet to inspect the full results.
The dress is lovely, you have to admit. The neckline doesn’t dip too low bonus that it doesn’t show your bruise, the waist is defined, and it’s long enough past your knees to be comfortable. The length also helps lessen the lingering apprehension you have about showing natural (*cough cough unshaven*) legs.
You actually feel…pretty. Been a while.
It’s as if she knew you were yearning to feel girly again. If this is bribery, you welcome it. Worse ways of being bribed than with fresh food and a makeover from a genuinely sweet kid. And hey, since you have to be onstage so much, might as well dress nicely for the audience.
When you’re walking downstairs to bring your people the donations, Maggie murmurs in your ear, “Y/N, I didn’t put her up to any of this, it was all her.”
When you pull away from her, she's insistent. “It wasn’t her bein’ nice to keep you quiet. Remember, she doesn’t kn—”
“—Good mornin’, girls. What’s in the bags?” Patricia’s voice calls from the bottom of the stairwell.
“We had some clothes to donate since before Easter,” Beth answers. “I figured they could use ’em.”
“They certainly could. I’m glad I have plenty I brought from my house when we moved in.” You can see Miss Patricia in the hallway by the stairs, clearly wearing one of her late husband’s shirts over her dress. Her brows lift. “Seems you dolled your friend up some. You clean up nice, sweetpea!”
“Thank you, ma’am. I-I do feel like a lady again,” you allow, your cheeks again warming.
“Never stopped being one, as far as I’m concerned. Always kept your Ps and Qs,” she’s kind enough to maintain. “Oh, speaking of ladies, I don’t know how y’all are doing on girls’ supplies, but we should have enough to share while you’re still with us.”
“Margaret and I were gonna look for some more on the next drug store run tomorrow or Monday to make sure you’re well stocked.” Along with everything else on the list(s) that was forgotten when those two…got distracted.
Ugh, how different things would be if you’d gone along for that trip! None of this barn bullshit!
Again, you feel the need to cough to help you breathe better, so you cough twice and try clearing your throat.
“Uh-oh, sounds like cold and flu season is well on it’s way,” she muses. “Don’t let me keep you holding them bags all day, girls. It’ll be funny watchin’ your daddy react if one of them ends up dressed in his giveaways,” the woman comments wryly. “Now, I did intend to check on those stitches today, Y/N, so come see me later. Hersh is just finishing up with Daryl’s, in fact, then he’ll be all set to go, if you were wantin’ to see him out.”
Oh, right! Today is finally the day he’s leaving that room!
Carl, too, but he’s already out and has been wandering around outside as much as his energy and mom will allow (which isn’t very much yet).
Daryl, on the other hand, has been too dizzy and too ashamed to do much more than a trip around the perimeter of the house.
Carol and you cleaned his tent yesterday as a surprise. It was her idea, of course. She enlisted your help specifically because you twice mentioned not thinking his sweat smelled bad, which is weird, but, for real, it doesn’t smell bad to you. The cigarettes, on the other hand, ew.
“Are we not going today?” Maggie asks quietly about the postponed pharmacy trip.
With tact, you suggest, “We could all use some rest after stayin’ up so late.”
She peers into your eyes, then nods and adjusts her hold on the two bags in her hands.“That’s a good idea. I’m not up to it, either.”
Upon stepping back outside onto the front porch, Jimmy and Glenn are kicking the soccer ball around already. Glenn is keeping his neck taut as he and Jimmy go back and forth, but the pain must have lessened.
The irresistible urge you have to make light of everything seizes you, and you leap into matchmaker mode because, why not? You won’t be here much longer, and maybe Maggie and Glenn linking up will lead to the rest being permitted to stay. That’s what matters.
Oh, and, uh, because you love Glenn, and Maggie is kind…oh fuck, are you just a calculating, cold strategist?
The feeling that you’re running out of air and going to vomit returns, but you push yourself onstage and commit to the role. You have to keep your shit together.
“Ain’t he handsome when he plays? Good sportsmanship and confidence rolled into one.” You playfully hold a smile back when you glance at Maggie and giggle to hide your heavy breathing. “Also the shiny hair.”
“He does have great hair,” she softly agrees.
“Y/N, do you and Glenn like each other? I-I thought…” Beth’s face has paled.
Maybe that’s why you over-act when you exclaim, “Of course I like him, that’s why I’m such a great wingwoman for him.”
Margaret blushes. “Let’s get these bags to their camp.”
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Him
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“I can’t hunt?”
“You can do as you please,” the old man remarks. What, is he making fun of him? “But doing so while recovering from a concussion would be foolish, as would be heavy lifting or other strenuous activity, and that’s not considering your collarbone and ribs. I’m curious as to how you’d wield your weapon or bring back what you hunted, for one, if you would even make it off the property without keeling over.”
Daryl bites his tongue and keeps his words to himself. Well, fine! I can still bring that little girl back. She’s got legs, she’ll be able to walk on her own.
Hershel cleans up his stuff and stands. “Now, then, I’m sure you’re ready to finally see yourself out.”
“Damn straight,” is probably not the smartest response in front of the old man, what with the cuss word, but damn straight he is ready to get the hell out of there. Still, he remembers his manners. “Thanks for everythin’.” He even holds out his hand for a shake. Which is dumb because the guy’s hands are full.
Daryl…puts his hand back down and grabs the few things he had in there with him. Y/N once described the Dr. Farmer as ‘unreadable.’ Definitely is that.
Unreadable, Hershel drawls, “It’s good you’re on the mend,” and inclines his head toward the door. “After you.”
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You
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Dude, you had a panic attack.
It wasn’t too too bad, all things considered. Initially, you’d thought it was a mild asthma attack, but in hindsight, wow you were oblivious to all of the signs.
It started to happen when some of the group was going through the clothes, right after Maggie and you dropped them off and she left to do choring.
Lori was beside you, low-key beside herself trying to figure out how your people could “ever repay the family now?”
Next, T-Dog joked about the sizes being too small for him. “Ain’t sure what here I could fit that won’t result in a show for y’all.”
This is when Andrea murmured to Carol, “Reminds me how it’s been awhile.” The way Carol reacted clued you in that it might have been a sex joke. Especially given the way Andy next gave your brother a once-over as if you weren’t right there. You vividly recall licking your teeth and rolling your eyes.
Then Shane — and he did this without having seen Andrea do the once-over — nudged T-Dog in the ribs and began to unbutton his own top. “Worse things than a show these days, friend. And that there clean shirt is calling my name.” Naturally, he proceeded to swap garments right where he stood.
Per usual, Lori was more graceful than you. She ignored it as if he were her own brother acting like a frat boy, and merely continued to sift through one of the bags. She smiled upon finding something, tapped Carol on the shoulder, and handed it to her.
It’s been a week now since Shane's betrayal of her and Rick. Even you are still figuring out how to see him. The hopeful part is that he’s been leaving Lori alone. If his sights have indeed turned to Andrea, all the better.
Back to the moment, you next worried that what if he and Andrea got a little too close, did something foolish, and she ended up pregnant, too.
Not that Lori’s baby is Shane’s, the baby is Rick’s regardless, but...
The tight feeling returned in your chest.
It was in the midst of this that Dale complimented you. “Kiddo, you’re all gussied up! Any occasion?”
“Mmhm, all dressed up for the ‘show.’” The nausea was back, plus a fun new notion of being observed, as if everyone and anyone, seen or unseen, was staring you down.
Dale just nodded with raised brows, and you and he shared a look. Instead of tempering your fears, it piqued them. It wasn’t his fault, but Mr. Horvath’s expression started to mirror the way he stared into your eyes after catching Shane lose his temper and leave you with a bruise on your sternum.
The fears within you, the stress, the dread, all started roiling stronger and stronger. You cleared your throat, then coughed, but it didn’t help. You felt so restless and, oddly, cornered.
And so, not knowing where to look therefore looking in all directions, you happened to spy Glenn staring at the barn. Again.
The air felt too…thin? And then you noticed Lori examining the torso of one of the shirts in the bag as if testing it for stretchiness or room. You could see the shadows clouding her face right before she abruptly put the shirt down.
Then, there was Carol, holding up something that had clearly must have been Beth’s a few years ago, and it looked as if it would fit Sophia perfectly now.
It was just about then that your lungs simply couldn’t keep up.
“Kiddo?” sounded in your ear.
You may have panted something to do with “puffer,” referring to your largely unused inhaler. At any rate, instead of next going to the logical location of the RV to find the med bag, you made for the treeline. You didn’t want anyone near you, didn’t want anybody to see you, didn’t want a fuss, didn’t want to be touched, didn’t want anyone to even think about you, so you had to hide.
Panting, a numbness started to affect your fingers and spread to your torso and toes. You repeatedly coughed in an effort to break up whatever was making it hard to breathe.
Once you started coughing, it dominoed. Your stitches were tugging at the forceful coughs, and soon, you were hacking. The hacking led to retching, one, two, three times. Tears started to fall.
“Baby, here,” came from your right and a warm, delicate hand touched the small of your back. Lori. She pressed the inhaler into your hand. “I shook it up, it’s all ready.”
Bending forward slightly to open your airways, you tried to exhale enough so you could take the dose properly as you clasped the trigger.
One puff. Hold breath in.
Your pulse thudded in your ears.
Another puff. Hold breath in.
The relief that usually comes with the medication wasn’t as apparent as it normally would be. It helped somewhat, but.
You tried another dose.
More tears of frustration. You panted to her that you thought your were going to pass out. "F-Feels like m'gonna die," you may have also said.
The phantom sensation of your hand being covered in Amy's blood returned. You recall wiping it with the hem of your dress, and Lori taking your hands, preventing you from continuing to do so.
Lori calmly instructed you to, “Try this with me, honey,” and slowly breathed in through her nose. You copied as best you could.
She then slowly breathed out through her mouth. You copied as best you could.
Over and over she coached you until things started to ease.
You looked around you. Your new sweater was hanging off your elbows. Your pulse was still loudly thumping, but two doses of a corticosteroid will do that. In your escape, you’d made for the big rocks where you’d shared (sort of) a cigarette with Daryl. The stones felt nice and cool, and Lori’s gentle rubbing of her hand across your back was comforting.
“Been a while since you’ve needed the inhaler. ‘Decorative,’ you called it once,” she softly chatted. The sensation of not getting enough air wasn’t quite gone just then, but you felt pretty normal again.
“I reckon the cold and the smoke must’ve done me in,” you mumbled. Your throat was mildly sore after all the coughing. “It’s good it was mild.”
“Were you wheezing?”
“No, I…just couldn’t breathe enough or something.” You shrugged. “I don’t always wheeze when I need it.” Your nose was stuffy from crying.
She was thoughtful for a moment, and had begun to lightly scratch your back. “You and Glenn seem off this morning. I’ve seen you two tired before, but today you both seem…there’s something else going on, clearly. Did you two fight?”
“Not exactly.” It’s true. “We’re on the same page.” You weren't prepared to have to go onstage again, but just in case, you tried pulling yourself together.
“Was it about Maggie?”
You laughed genuinely. “Ha, not at all.”
Lori didn’t mirror your laughter or even smile in return. “Honey, I think you had a panic attack.”
That's ridiculous! was your initial reaction, which is why, at first, you protested. “Oh, it wasn’t that dramatic.”
“It looked different from where I was. But even still, it didn’t have to be or feel ‘dramatic’ to have been one. You know that.” The nonjudgemental straightforwardness in her voice, in her eyes, was enough to convince you that she could see straight into your heart and read what was there. “Y/N, is there something more going on?”
More than anything, at that moment, you didn’t want to lie to her.
But what could you do? Tell the truth, yes, 'the truth will out,' you know that. But you were convinced that telling the whole truth, right then, would be like lighting dynamite.
In your view, you would be exposing everyone to chaos and even violence, and you'd all seen too much of that already. And no, you couldn’t just tell one person because it never just stays with one person. Lori was/is not in any position to have more fear on her plate.
So what did you do?
You crawled back on that stage and you lied — by telling the truth.
“I’m worried he’ll talk.” Vague and a lie of omission, and maybe a little throwing your friend under the bus, but Lord have mercy on you, it was truthful.
Lori squeezed her eyes shut. “Me, too. Oh honey, I’m so scared!” she whispered, covering her mouth.
So scared of Shane, just like you are. “Rick won’t hold any of it against you. We all thought he was dead.”
She shook her head and stared at the ground.“But you saw how Shane behaved, you, you heard the things he said, Y/N,” she nearly hissed. “I don’t know who that man was, but it wasn’t Shane, just like when he had m—” then Lori cut off.
“When he had what?”
She shook her head again. “Seems Dale’s on his way over. He told me about what was going on so I could bring your medicine to you. He hadn't known what 'puffer' meant." A look of pure guilt. "And —oh, Y/N, I’m so sorry that you’re worrying yourself like this over my mistakes! It's not fair to you.”
“Your kid ain’t a mistake, it’s so good that they’re here,” you replied in total honesty. First time all day.
Maybe she’ll be honest with you and spill whatever Shane did that she’s not being upfront about. Whatever it is could surely have been described in a sentence. “What else did Shane do, Lore?” It can’t have been that bad, or could it?
All she did was shake her head once more. “Like you said, he hasn’t been himself.
‘Hasn’t been himself.’ Fine. You’ve got secrets, too, so there’s no way on earth that you can cast stones.
You stepped back onstage for hopefully the final time, and made yourself deliver the next lines. “That’s why we’re goin’ to Fort Benning.” Without you all. “Just him and me. Within two weeks, I hope?” The nausea still hadn’t gone away, and simply saying this brought it back.
Her brows sunk caution. “When was this decision made? I-I thought—”
“—I ain’t told him about it yet.” The bitter smile, you hadn’t been able to stifle. “Shouldn’t be hard to convince him, considering he was fixing to not so long ago.”
Lori’s apologetic tone wasn’t a put-on. “I’m so sorry he didn’t tell you. I had no idea you were left in the dark.”
That’s when some tightness came back to your chest, and your breathing turned faster again. “I know, Lore.”
She noticed. “Honey, hey,” she soothed, “breathe slowly, deeply." Her hand cupped your cheek. "His mistakes, his choices, his reactions are not your responsibility.”
“I know, b-but—”
“—And you don’t have to leave with him if you don't want to.”
“But wh—”
“—No buts.” Lori cupped your cheek, stood, and swiftly made toward Dale.
And here is where you hadn’t known she was going to be quite so straightforward with him.
In fact, you’d hoped she’d join you onstage and lie, too, but she behaved beyond reproach. “It was a panic attack, so please make sure to respect her privacy about it. I’ve got to check on the laundry.”
------------------------------
Him
------------------------------
Funny thing, he’s wearing the same clothes he had his accident in. He’s in the same stuff leaving that he had been when he got carried in there, except now they’re cleaned and mended.
It’s been good to be back outside, he prefers it. He can’t wrap his head around why some people can keep inside in front of a screen all day. You don’t get to hear or feel the wind indoors, can’t hear the birds and all that.
Now, he couldn’t say for sure, but stepping outside and knowing he didn’t have to go back in must feel at least half as good as getting freed from prison.
If prison was a nice-ass farmhouse without the risk of getting shanked or worse, obviously.
Merle would have some words if he heard Daryl say something like that out loud. Though, Merle was pretty settled when he was in lock-up. Fared fine.
His first view when he steps out into freedom is Glenn and the teenage boy kicking the ball around. Those two are straight into it and pay him no mind as he walks around them.
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The rest of the group is around the picnic table, looks like they’re sorting laundry (?), therefore ain’t paying him no mind, either.
Phew.
This is good. He was wondering if Y/N was gonna parade him out or make it a big deal, but after hearing her and the other ladies talking in the hallway, she didn’t come back in. Works for him, he doesn’t like a crowd.
…But, like, where is she? He figured she’d be around, is all, but she ain’t by the table.
Ah, yeah, duh — she's probably still doing something with the girl that's about her age and her little sister. Still seems off Y/N and Glenn are only “five or six years younger” than him, but that’s what Y/N has said a few times.
The next thing he sees is Lori, who is swooping down the yard and toward the big rocks where he and T-Dog took a smoke break once. And where Y/N had her first try of a cigarette, too. Lori looks like a woman on a mission, damn. Dale is staring in the direction Lori is walking, those big-ass brows of his slanted downward. Wonder what that's about?
Over the sound of a few leftover end-of-season cicadas, he hears the normal drone of crickets, light talking from the group, the thunk of the ball getting kicked, a very loud crow, some cows mooing, somebody coughing, birds doing their thing, chickens clucking, the wind blowing. Mmm, good stuff. Being inside and hearing it just don’t sound as good as being right out in it.
Then, “Daryl!” comes from his left, and he sees Carol walking to him. She’s a good woman.
And now the memory of her kissing him on the cheek is making his cheeks heat up as quick as she steps toward him.
“I’ll carry those for you,” she quietly insists about his small pile of clothes. He lets her.
She’s been very, um, attentive. Been having most of her meals with him, babying him as much as he’d allow, and all-in-all has been treating him extra after he had his accident.
There are more coughing sounds that he almost pegs as being Y/N’s, but when he looks back in the direction of the noise, there’s no one, just Lori off on her walk, and she wasn't coughing.
“We moved your tent closer to the rest of us, so you would be closer to where we could help you.”
Closer. Great.
Daryl wanted nothing less, but a kind gesture is a kind gesture, so he mans up and acts proper, grunting, “Thank you.” It’s not like they went and messed with his stuff, they just moved the tent, and for a real kind reason.
Glenn rears and kicks, sending the ball soaring. Damn, he's good.
“Now, it may smell and look a little different, but all of your things are still there.”
“Huh?” What’d she mean?
“You deserved a nice, clean place to go back to,” Carol explains. “Y/N and I tidied your tent.”
...
…they what?
He gets the weirdest image of himself as being onstage and forgetting whatever it was he was supposed to say next, leaving him standing there like a mouthbreather in front of the audience. And he kinda wants to cuss the audience out.
His first idea after learning Carol and Y/N was: What the hell, y’all been messing with my stuff?? What gives y'all the right?
But, come on, even he had it in him to keep his mouth shut. They’d taken the time and effort to clean up his shit and it was probably as nice as when Carol had worked her magic in the RV. That's damned decent, in fact.
So, Daryl does not act like a jackass, and instead, remembers his lines and thanks Carol again.
“It was no trouble. How about I bring you some more breakfast once you’re settled in?” she quickly offers. See? Very attentive. And he didn’t do shit to have earned it, which made it more uncomfortable.
Aw shit, his cheeks feel all warm again. First around Y/N, now Carol? Maybe there is something to this whole concussion bullshit.
Or, maybe Carol done kissed you on the cheek and said you were a good man and that you did right by her little girl as much as a father should and that’s the best possible thing somebody could be told.
“Do you want some more coffee, too?”
I wanna to be left alone, lady. “Nah, m’great. Thank you.”
------------------------------
You
------------------------------
“Last night seemed to be an indication summer was officially over. But today,” Dale blows through his lips, “Well, we can already tell it’ll be a warm one.”
“Did we hit the first day of fall, yet? I forgot what date it is today.”
“No, that’s on the 21st. We’ve got some time.”
“Oh, wait!” you squeak (ouch, your throat is still sore from coughing). “Ain’t it the Holy Days for you still?” Rosh Hoshanah was sometime last week, but that one got sort of messed up because of everything that’s been going on.
Oh man, it was the day after Daryl got into his accident, wasn’t it?
Dale’s cordial expression falters. “Yes, it was last week.”
“Yom Kippur is soon then, right?”
“It’s on the 18th this year, yes. Two days away.”
There’s this very insistent raven that’s been cawing away. Or is that a crow? You can’t tell the difference. You can tell that you’ve bummed Dale out, however. “I’ve bummed you out.”
Smiling sadly, he concedes, “Jewish holidays are usually lonely ones in mixed company. And now, especially with it being the holiest time of the year, after everything…” He lifts his shoulders.
“I’ll do the fasting with you so you won’t be alone!” Ow, stop raising your voice so high. “Is it no food or drink at all on that day, or is water okay?”
A happier smile. “No food or drink — barring serious health concerns, of course, in which case, one is required to not fast.”
“No water must suck! When my lot do fasting, water don’t count.”
He nods his head once. “It’s all part of the atonement. It’s considered a blessing for us to fast for it.”
“And the feast after it is fun,” you sigh with a grin. You’ll enlist Carol and Lori to see about making him a yummy fast-breaking meal for the day.
This is what you needed. Dale didn’t press you regarding the panic attack, and has simply been keeping you company by the big rocks. You’ve haven’t had to go back onstage while he’s been sitting with you. You’d probably be content to stay here a good, long time if you didn’t have to use the toilet something major.
“Did you see if there was a pair of suspenders in the bags so you and Mr. Greene can match?”
“Is this your way of saying you’re feeling well enough to head back, or that you need privacy?”
“It’s my way of sayin’ I gotta go potty real bad.” You stand. “Suspenders are pretty cool, you can party like it’s 1899.”
“I actually quite like how suspenders look,” he chuckles, stretching and getting to his feet.
“Mm, they remind me of the Old West, I love ’em.”
Dale and you walk back until reaching the side of the farmhouse, whereupon you excuse yourself to head to the treeline and do your business.
------------------------------
Him
------------------------------
As soon as the heat starts to sink in, he unbuttons his shirt halfway and kicks his shoes off. Getting the socks off without hurting himself takes some effort, but it’s worth it. His stuff is so squeaky clean and fresh, he wants to avoid sweating the place up too quick.
His old pillowcase is gone, probably scrapped for dishrags seeing as it was pretty worn. In its place is a flower-covered one with soft, thick cotton fabric. There's some phrase about a 'woman's touch' that must apply here. Or, if Merle were here, prime Darylina ammo. Joke's on him, the pillowcase is soft as hell.
And being in there might seem boring, but it's 10 times better than being stuck in a damn bed and listening to music for days on end. Just cloud-watching through his tent window is fun enough for him.
In fact, it’s rad! He’s so psyched to not be in that room anymore!
Cloud watching, playing with his bolts, farting if he's gotta; he's content as can be. Seriously, he’s in such a good mood right now.
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But as luck would have it, by the time he’s decided to see how easily a bolt can poke a hole through the mesh window (the answer is very easily, and it’s real satisfying) none other than Andrea herself appears at his tent door. The chick who shot him.
Now, she’s pretty as a picture and then some, but he doesn’t want his belly showing in front of her. If he’d been paying attention and heard her making her way to him, he would’ve buttoned up.
So, he tries out the same tactic as last night, when Carol walked in on him shirtless; maybe by not closing his shirt, she wouldn’t think about it? Or…fuck it, just about everybody has seen some part of him uncovered in the past week. At least there ain’t no scars on this side.
All he’s got to do is make like he’s onstage and that it doesn’t bother him having his literal nipples on display.
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“Hey.” Andrea steps into his tent, looking like she is about to eat crow.
She hands him a book. He accepts the maybe peace-offering.
“It’s not that great, but…” she trails off, breathes out, and looks as shamefaced as can be.
Y/N, Carol, and T-Dog all mentioned she’s been kicking her own ass for shooting him. Granted, he’s still a little pissed, and, yeah, real thankful that she’s a shit shot, but — she was trying to protect the group, right? Ain’t even her fault he got stuck in that damn bed. The concussion, split side, and broken ribs did that for him.
He figures he’s gotta make it clear that she’s off the hook without making her feel worse for being let off the hook. And, he thinks he knows just the way to break the tension. It’d got the librarian at his high school to laugh the first time he made the remark, which is probably why he was usually allowed to eat in there during lunch if he asked.
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Now, he knows reading is still on the no-go list, don’t worry, Y/N, but he casually holds the book up and flips through the pages.
He’s gotta, it’s the setup.
It’s good that Andrea ain’t said nothing yet, because it’s the perfect opportunity for him to pretend to be dead-serious when he complains, “What, no pictures?”
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The joke does the trick. Andrea smiles and relaxes.
“I’m so sorry. I feel like shit,” she starts to go on, but he puts a stop to it.
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Tucking the book aside as he settles down onto the pillow, he cuts in, “You and me both.”
“I don’t expect you to forgive me, but, if there’s anything I can do, I—”
He cuts in one more time, “—You were trying to protect the group. We’re good.” He means it.
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But, ya know, just because things are chill doesn’t mean he can’t bust her balls a little, right? “But hey,” he stops her as she’s leaving. “Shoot me again, you best pray I’m dead.”
------------------------------
You
------------------------------
“It went great! Better than I ever expected.” Andrea takes a seat beside you on the log. Judging by the look of serenity on her face, it appears that the monkey she’s had on her back for the past week is finally gone.
“Good, m’glad.” You knew it would be fine, but Andrea was so nervous.
“And I have to say, I can see the appeal now.”
“What appeal?”
“Daryl was,” she thinks on the right word and picks: “Charming.”
Ah. You see what she’s trying to do. “Well, go tell him that, then,” you suggest, cool as a cucumber. She and Dale thought you and he had a romantic thing going on. Lol, nah.
“And he was funny!” she goes on.
You sip your tea. “Mm, he can be.”
“Not angry, or, or nasty.” She closes her eyes and breathes out a sigh of relief. “I was so worried about how it was going be.”
You tilt your head in partial agreement. He can be a dick.
Your job for the rest of the day, so Papa Dale done told you, is to be chill (yes, he used the word ‘chill’ and it was adorable). It’s your only responsibility today, seeing as he joined you when you went to check the highway spot for Sophia. She hasn’t found it, it’s untouched. Again.
So now, your job = keep chill.
“Are you helping with target practice later?”
Oh, right, and there’s that. You suppose you could continue helping Beth with drawing her weapon smoothly, keep drilling her never, ever forget to switch the safety back and forth.
But…okay: maybe today, that isn’t your job. Maybe you need a rest from being onstage. “I think I’m gonna sit today out.”
“Is everything okay?”
“I just need a day,” you answer in too high a pitch.
Andy doesn’t inquire further. “How’s the little fuzzball?” she instead asks.
“Still sleeping,” you coo. The sluggish little chick you’d scooped up while quickly sprinkling feed-corn in order to feel useful is your insurance for keeping chill. Can’t not keep chill with a chick asleep in your lap.
“It must feel nice and safe wrapped up like that.”
“Mm.” The chick is nestled in a dishtowel, half its body also covered by your new cardigan.
“Y/N, have you not gone to visit him yet?”
“Not yet. He’d appreciate some time to himself, I reckon, after a week bein’ stuck in there and visitors and checkups at all hours.”
Glenn’s off doing farm chores with Jimmy, so he’s being kept busy and won’t be a concern. As for you, you’ve got your sleepy chick and are content to stay here on the log. You ate lunch, yet another peach (you’re up to six), just finished the leftover raspberries, and are now washing it all down with some fresh mint tea you made in honor of one of your best friends. She’d make her own mint tea and would call it ‘wild mint’ tea because it sounded exotic.
When Dale mentioned today’s date, you remembered it was her birthday. She was the most confident girl you’d ever met, and a sweetheart to boot. You really hope she’s alive.
Andrea chuckles to herself. “I gave him that terrible book to keep him occupied.”
Book?? To Daryl? But the concussion! “A book?”
“I brought him The Case of the Missing Man,” she shares with a grin. “He can join the survivor’s club of those who’ve read it — Y/N, is something wrong?”
“Oh, um, nah, it’s all good, uh,” you are fumbling so hard right now. Cool, you’re feeling lightheaded again, cool cool.
It’s all cool. There’s no fire. Stay chill. “I’m gonna pop over and make sure he ain’t cracked into it yet, he’s, it’s, it’s not safe yet. C-Concussion and all.” Listen to you, smooth like butter.
“Oh shit.”
“Andy, don’t sweat. Even if he did start on it, like,” and you pause, because, “I don’t actually know what can go wrong, I didn’t ask Miss Patricia, but I’m sure it ain’t nothing serious!” You cup the (awoken and now loudly peeping) chick between your hands as you book it (pun intended?) to Daryl’s tent.
------------------------------
Him
------------------------------
For Y/N to glide over wearing a pretty dress, hair all fancy, and holding some little bird was not something he put on his bingo sheet.
“Hiya, Daryl.”
It takes him a second. “Hey.” He ain't never seen her in a dress.
And with that little bird, he gets the image in his head of her bursting into song and the farm animals and forest critters doing a musical number with her.
He’ll *ahem* keep that to himself...
“I hope you’re enjoyin’ your new freedom! Mi—”
“—Who’s the little guy?” he had to ask first.
“It's a chick.”
Clearly. “Why?”
“It’s cute.”
She ain’t wrong. “…Can I see?”
“Yeah, it's adorable!”
He begins to get up, but she steps over faster than he can stand. She kneels beside his cot and, delicately, transfers the wrapped chick into his hands. Carefully, he unwraps the washcloth around it and slips his hand underneath it so sits on his palm with its teeny legs dangling through his fingers. It’s peeping like it’s getting paid for it, holy shit it’s so fucking cute.
“I came here wonderin’ if I might I borrow the, uh, the book Andrea just lent you?”
Ha, called it! The second Y/N found out he had contraband, she came to the rescue.
The chick quiets down, appearing to relax in his hand. His hand must be good and warm for it.
Maybe it’s because he’s in a good mood, but he smiles like a dipshit for a few moments before saying anything. “Nah, I wouldn’t dream of checking it out ’til you said it was fine.”
“Oh ha-ha,” she play-mocks, assuming he wasn’t being serious.
Eh, okay, maybe he was sorta razzing her, too. But he wants to come out on the other side of this whole concussion bullshit on the up, and if reading is still off-limits, it’s still off limits. He’s not gonna full-on disregard somebody who gives a shit.
“How’d ya end up dressed like that?” is his second question while he pets the chick lightly along its head using the feathers on his bolt.
“I wear this, like, all the time.”
“Oh right, yeah, you do,” he sarcastically responds. He tries to reach with his left arm to pick up the book under his cot, but gets a sharp twinge and surrenders that he can’t do that move yet.
Y/N snorts at the sarcasm and tells him straight, “The Greenes had some giveaways, so Beth gave me this outfit. Oh, thank you,” she says when he instead points in the direction of the book. She picks it up and hugs it to herself. “I do believe Carol put a few things aside for you to try on, too.”
“’Kay.”
Y/N looks pretty.
It’s nothing new, obviously her face is nice, but it's the whole blushing thing that keeps happening to Daryl's face that's annoying. Seems he's started blushing like a belle over all the damn women in camp these days. That really was some smack to the head he got.
He’s imagining himself as being back onstage again, forgetting his lines. He can make something up on the spot: “How you gonna search in that?”
“Ain’t like my ankles are tied together. Women have always been able to move, play, do manual labor of all sorts in dresses, corsets, stays, stockin’s, you name it,” she serves back with just enough fire that his belly did one of those good flippy-floppys. “That reminds me, Nervous Nelly came back! Did any of us tell you? She’s fine as can be, I fed her half a peach yesterday!”
Some of them baby hairs around her face are coming out of the braids. Her skin's got a sheen to it. And did she put pink stuff on her cheeks or something? Or is that because she was moving around a lot and it’s gotten warm out? Because her lips don’t look like there’s nothing on them but they’re nice and —
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“—Dare, you okay?”
“Yeah. Tired.”
“You must be.” Why is she frowning? “You looked like you’d just got hypnotized or — you sure you feel normal?”
“M’fine, I just spaced out.”
She’s gonna have him do a thing, isn’t she? “Follow my finger for a little, please?” Ah-ha, see?
Pointer finger extended, he goes along with it for the 10 or so seconds it takes for the slight crease between her eyebrows to relax.
“Please stick out your tongue for me?” is her next request and, uh, why?
Well, he goes ahead and does it for her anyway. The hook ’em horns he makes at the same time are a sure sign he’s in a good-ass mood.
Y/N lets herself smile, then elaborates: “If it came out tilted, it’s a sign of stroke.”
Stroke? That’s a little much.“C’mon, you’re worried I had a stroke?”
She nods once. Her chest expands big as if she were inhaling really deep. “A smoker, extended bed rest, head trauma,” she quietly counts.
Is he hearing things, or does her breathing sound a little too fast?
“Can you point your toes three times?”
He point his toes three times, and yes, her breathing is a little too fast.
“Now please lift both arms parallel to the bed.”
He lifts both arms. The baby chicken is sleeping now and doesn’t wake with the motion.
“Okay,” Y/N whispers to herself.
“Tell me you’re not stressing out about nothin’.”
She blinks a few times and deadpans, “I would never.”
“Here,” he holds the chick near her face. “Get zen like this pipsqueak.”
“But you ain’t ‘nothing’ and you are at an elevated stroke risk.”
He’s only got the one word for her: “Zen.” The hovering motion he made with the chick was a fun touch, the little thing didn’t even mind.
Her expression suggests she’s trying to not smile, and, in a move he doesn’t anticipate, she leans forward to rub her nose on its beak. Her lips brush against his fingertips when she does, and his train of thought derails.
Next thing, her hands are overlapping his as she gently takes the chick back and re-wraps it in the washcloth. “’Lil buddy you’re fine, you’re fine,” she coos. “I’ll grab you the hand sanitizer and leave you to some peace, alright man?” she addresses to Daryl, who's still a little distracted, so a grunt and a chin tilt is how he acknowledges this.
Merle would be laughing his ass off right now, goddamn. ‘Sweet lil virgin Darylina’ sounds about what he’d be cackling about.
Y/N flips open the cap with her thumb and squirts the hand stuff onto his palm. Smells like lemons.
So, he didn’t have that stuff before, meaning she’d likely been the one to put it in there when she’d cleaned his tent with Carol. “Hey, um, thanks for the surprise.” Damn, he’s awkward. Smells way better in here.”
“Carol is so wanting to help you in any way she can. I was in it just to see you end up with that pretty floral pillowcase. I had to stop her from hangin' the matching curtains,” she snickers, then waves him goodbye and, boom, leaves.
So…how long until his heartbeat and head stop racing?
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You
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Yet another stage performance today. You had to act like you weren’t distracted by how boyishly charming Daryl looked lounging there with his shirt unbuttoned to his hecking waist, good Moses. But like, the way he snuggled the chick, and how your legit lips bumped into his fingers?? It was an accident! Ohh, but how he'd noticed your panicking so was all soothing and stuff...
Dude, and you were trying to sit like a dainty lady the whole time, too, what a poser.
Still, you think you were convincing in your latest stage performance. Oscar-worthy. Golden Globe. Emmy. Tony. Somebody hook you up with your EGOT.
Oh, and that little jab at his new pillowcase, aw yes, that was top tier friendzoning!
Or — oh, it wasn’t interpreted as flirting, right? No way did you intend that! And, hold up, there's no way he'd even care. It's Daryl.
Eh, you've earned a B- so far at being chill. You've got to get that grade up.
So, you are going to go pick fruit, alone, and you’re going to stuff your face because the show is over, you’re off stage for the rest of the day!
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-> Masterlist link here <-
and our teeny tiny taglist :D
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(inbox is open if you would like on or off the taglist, slowpokes! Please don’t feel bad or nervous if you don’t want to be tagged anymore, just let me know in the inbox. We’re all friends here and your comfort level matters)  
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hiro--aoki · 6 months ago
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I honestly don't get all the hate around Andrea. Yeah sure. She was a bit annoying at points, but so was Carl. Yeah, she could've had better writing but so could've Dale and Beth. Yeah sure she fell in love with the governor and was blind to his evilness, but in a world like that, you take love where you can. I know I wouldn't have handled it any better than her. She is honestly one of the most realistic characters in my opinion. Never getting over the loss of dead ones, being blinded by hope, only pushing on for others sake. You can hate, but Andrea has a special place in my heart. Not as high as Carl or Rosita, but still there.
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banshees-martin · 10 months ago
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the early seasons of twd will always hold a special place in my heart
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booksarenifty · 2 months ago
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TWD Character HCs Pt. 1
This is my first post, so hope y'all like it!!! There will be multiple parts, but lemme know if there's any characters y'all wanna see that I missed
My friend who has never watched The Walking Dead rates characters and makes headcanons for them!!
Rick Grimes
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8/10
swiftie but only because he loves the national and aaron dessner
would say “i know a spot” and the spot is his mom's basement (which is very dated)
shaves with a knife
wears two watches
never double knots his shoes
Lori Grimes
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9/10
she’s giving mommy energy and i’m here for it
has really loopy handwriting
has probably dyed her hair every color at least once
curses like a sailor
collected refrigerator magnets
dissected frogs as a kid
Andrea
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4/10
lies for fun and to everyone
cheats on everyone too
says she doesn't wear makeup
her curls feel crunchy
Dale Horvath
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8/10 🫣
looks like he’s going insane but i’ll go insane with him
GILF
he probably brings up the most random experiences at the most random times
he doesn’t even own that hat. he stole it.
smells like alcohol
Hershel Greene
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5/10
dresses up as santa for the kids
british
over apologies
curses using food items
horrible coughing fits
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gotham-at-nightfall · 10 months ago
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The Walking Dead characters
By Charlie Faulks
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augment-techs · 9 months ago
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wimbledonstrawberry · 1 month ago
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okay so I just hope jannik has some mercy on sebas soul (a.k.a sebas getting more than three games overall)
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giveamadeuschohisownmovie · 6 months ago
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francisofthespook · 29 days ago
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I sat down to watch The Mist with my grandma and mom, and I was BEYOND shocked to see that ANDREA, DALE, and CAROL !!! Are in it !!!!
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apocalypticclownin · 2 months ago
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the shane dale beef in season 2 is truly peak cinema. the blinding pure hatred dale had for shane knocks me off my feet sometime. when shane said
"you think I'd shoot rick? That is my best friend. That's the man that I love, I love him like he's my brother. You think that's the kind of man I am? Well ought just think that through. Say I'm the kind of man who'd gun down his best friend. What'd do you think I'd do to some guy I don't even like?
that was full of nothing but malice. the man was sinister with that shit. he so genuinely wanted that man dead BAD.
Dale was walking around camp talking crazy shit about shane every single day to truly anyone that would listen.
legendary beef. we don't get men being catty towards one another enough.
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clinicsharmartia · 8 months ago
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DISCLAIMERS BEFORE YOU PROCEED!
This is a DELAYED character review. I know what’s going to happen to them in s2. I’m saying this as to say that I’m fully aware of the dramatic irony of some of these character reviews 😭 also this is a transcript from an audio I sent to my friends when I actually finished S1 so I’m sorry if some bits don’t make sense. I’ve edited a bit but not entirely.
TWD CHARACTER REVIEWS - SEASON 1
Rick Grimes: 10/10. He is an amazing person, he’s an even more amazing father. He's selfless, kind, gentle, understanding, caring, protective, loving, brave and so much more. The relationship that he has with people around him is so nice to watch. Him owning up to things immediately without knowing how people react is such a nice characteristic about him that I really hope he doesn't lose. He’s just— ugh I love him. I can’t wait to see how his character progresses and how his relationships change.
Lori Grimes: 9/10. She's an amazing mother. She's an amazing wife. She is a good person who is trying her best. So many people hate on Lori Grimes because she ‘cheated’ with Shane. He was a rebound. If I was in her situation I would do the same. You get told that your husband is dead during the apocalypse, which means he’s DEAD, never coming back, and you’re forced to live in the woods with your only son who only looking up to you in this moment. It is such a devastating situation to be in. You’re mourning and grieving while trying to keep your only son safe in this horrible horrible world and the next best thing to your husband, the closest thing your him, walks up to you to give you comfort, protection and security. Of course she would turn to him. Of course she would sleep with him. I would do the same thing. And the guilt on her face, you know she regrets it so much. She's so kind and sweet and protective. I know it's not gonna be for very long unfortunately but from what we have with Lori Grimes I cannot wait to see her progression in the show a character, as a mother, and as a wife.
Carl Grimes: 10/10. I'm pretty sure I teared up a bit when I first saw him on screen because he's just so little he's just a baby it's just a little baby boy he is so small. My maternal instincts kicked in fucking immediately when I saw him on screen. He's just a little kid and this is what I love about Carl Grimes. He is accurate representation of what happens of what would happen if you put a child in the apocalypse and then them having to go through puberty during the apocalypse. I am so fucking excited to see his character progression. I cannot wait for him to be sassy. I love him mwah.
Shane Walsh: -10/10. I know we need characters like him in these types of media, and I know that he was an important part of the plot, and I KNOW that he is a well written character, but I hate him so much. The only time I want him on screen is when he’s dying. The only time I want to see him open is mouth is when he’s screaming in agony. I hate him. Disgusting filth.
Daryl Dixon: 8/10. He's a very very funny character with a lot of baggage but he’s so loving and caring, just in his own ways. You can really tell that he wants to protect everyone there and that his act is just an act because he can’t admit to loving anyone. He’s a complex character and I like it a lot. Also, the way that people treat him in this season is so horrible. You come back after hunting for the group of people that you have decided you were going to look after and you see this guy rock up and he says “yeah your brother? yeah I left him for dead after I locked him up to a metal pipe on the top of a roof in the sweltering heat surrounded by zombies LOL. I'm Rick Grimes by the way” and people get upset with him getting angry at that? Then, people are saying you shouldn’t go and find him because no one likes him. And then you go after him anyways BECAUSE HES YOUR BROTHER and you find his SEVERED HAND instead. And then you come back and your camp gets attacked by walkers and one of your camp mates get bit, and when you say you should kill him to prevent any pain or suffering, people call you crazy and weird. WTF! Wtaf. Daryl is getting so much hate from them like what. Anyways I love Daryl, I can’t wait to see how his character develops and how his relationships change, and how he adapts to the new environments and people (because we all know what he’s like).
Glenn Rhee: 9/10. Glenn is an amazing guy. He's funny, a bit stupid and has some great lines as well. He's very smart, very valuable and his humanity and compassion is what really makes me love him. He saw a random stranger surrounded by zombies and instead of doing what he was supposed to do he took time out of his mission time out of that situation to save him. What could've very much gotten him killed to help the stranger. And then the stranger comes back and makes him do something that he really doesn't want to do (covering yourself in blood and guts and gore and walking through a street of zombies which could very much kill you in a second is not something he wants to do) but he does it anyways because he does it for the people that he cares about. Then he comes back to camp and the whole ambush happens and they're about to burn one of the camp members bodies and he yells at them and he says “we don't burn our people we bury them”. That line made me so so emotional and it means so much to me that they added that in because it is such an emotional and beautiful line for me. It honestly really highlights him as a character and the humanity and compassion he carries even after everything. I really loved him again. I can't wait to see his character progression, I can't wait to see how his relationships progress as well and how his skills are able to be used in the long run.
Dale: 8/10. I really love him. He’s a great guy doing his very best to try and teach and help the group. He is the word of wisdom, he is the one you look to for guidance. I absolutely adore him. Although, dragging Andrea out of suicide was not great, didn’t like that. Can’t wait to see how he’ll help the group in the future.
Andrea: 6/10. She is a little bit annoying, but she seems quite smart. I don't like how she treats certain people though. Like, I can't explain it but the way she goes about some things just urk me really bad. I think she has a lot of room for improvement, but right now she's okay. I want to see what she can bring to the table though.
Carol: 9/10. BAD ASS BITCH. She is amazing and funny and trying her best. I cannot wait to see her healing process and how her relationships change and how her skills develop. I love her.
T-DOG: 7/10. He's cool, I like him a lot. You can tell that he's trying his best and he has a nice voice. I think he can do a lot of good for the group in the later seasons as we can see that he's already helped quite a bit. Also, his loving and caring nature is really nice to see. Merle called him a racial slur and threatened to hurt him and still he went back to chain the door shut so he could have a chance to survive. He's super cool.
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final-girl96 · 1 year ago
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Broken World: Chapter Eighteen
"Oh, calm down, Dixon.” I pulled a shirt on and a pair of sweats. “There I'm fully clothed.” I pulled a pair of clean socks out of my duffle and sat on the couch. It's funny, I have a ton of underwear and socks but only have five shorts and three pairs of pants. My closet at my apartment is full of clothes, but I only grabbed a few things then practically shoved my whole sock and underwear drawer in my bag. I also only grabbed two regular bras and like five sports bras. Of course, at some point I will only end up with everything. “I'm going to check out that wreck room real quick, see if there are any good books.”
Daryl hummed and took a swig from the bottle in his hand. I stood up and started for the door. With my hand on the handle I paused. “Hey, Daryl?” I waited for a response, not turning around. I heard a grunt of acknowledgement. “I'm sorry.” I turned my head, making eye contact with him. A look of confusion washed over his face. He opened his mouth to say something but I walked out of the room before he could.
I walked down the hall, passing Lori, who had her head down and was walling fast. I caught sight of a couple tears running down her face when she lifted her head just a fraction. “Lori, are you alright?” I asked. She stopped in her tracks, straightened up, and whipped her cheeks. She had her back to me when she said, “yeah.” Turned around and gave me a weak smile. “It's just been a little overwhelming these past couple days with Rick coming back losing Jim and Amy, along with others. I'm grateful Jenner let us in here. We can be safe here.”
I noticed how she was a little shaky. Her hands and voice trembled and she looked distraught. I didn't say anything though and just nodded. “Yeah, hopefully this place is good.” I didn't want to say that we weren't going to be here long. That the clock in the great room was counting down. It was probably counting down to the end of this place. There was no way this building could keep going for long. It was designed to keep very dangerous diseases from getting out into the world. Disease that could be weaponized. They wouldn't let that happen even in an event like the one we're currently battling.
I said my good night's to Lori and headed to the wreck room. I was looking at the books when the door opened. “Lori?” I turned my head to see Shane standing by the door. “She went to bed,” I told him. He looked me up and down, leaned on the door and smirked. He was clearly very drunk and I was starting to wonder if he was the real reason behind Lori's tears. I wouldn't be afraid to bet he was, seeing as I started feeling very uneasy when he moved further into the room. I decided to ditch the books and just head back to the room. “Well, I'm going to bed,” I said, walking around the opposite side of the pool table from where Shane stood.
I didn't even make it to the door before he quickly moved to stand in front of me. “Wow. Wow. Hold on there. How about we get to know each other better.” I stepped back from him when he reached out his hand to touch me. “Yeah, I'd rather not. Now if you'll excuse me.” His hand caught my upper arm as I went to walk past him. “Come on now, don't be like that.” His grip tightened on my arm when I tried to pull away. “Let…go…of…me!” I yanked my arm free, stepped away from him moving closer to the door. “Don't ever put your hands on me or anyone else ever again. I won't hesitate to put you down.” When I got back to the room Daryl was passed out on the couch. I walked in quietly, locked the door behind me, and laid down, quickly falling asleep.
The next morning I woke up to an empty room. I groaned as I stretched my body out on the cot. I will admit that I haven't gotten a good night's sleep since this shit show happened. Staring up at the ceiling I sighed and rubbed my hands over my face then reluctantly sat up. I got dressed and headed to the dining area, where I found everyone else eating breakfast. T-dog handed me a plate with eggs, bacon and toast. I thanked him and sat down beside Glenn, who groaned and held his head In his hands. “I'm never drinking again,” he mumbled. I patted him on the back with a chuckle and took a bite of eggs. Five minutes later Rick walked in and Lori handed him a bottle of aspirin.
Shortly after that Shane walked in. I hadn't noticed last night but he had a scratch mark on his neck. Rick asked him about it and he gave the excuse of he must have done it in his sleep. He looked at Lori when he agreed with Rick that it wasn't like him to do that. This just confirmed what I had suspected last night; he was the cause of Lori's tears. Everyone ate their breakfast until Dale looked At Jenner and spoke. “Doctor, I don't mean to slam you with questions first thing…” he said. “But you will anyway.” Before Dale could ask anything Ansrea jumped in, “We didn't come here for the eggs.” He looked around at everyone, sighed, and told us to follow him.
We were led to the big room and the lights flickered on as we entered. “Give me playback of TS-19,” Jenner said, walking towards the large monitor in the wall. Vi, the virtual intelligence spoke up, “Playback of TS-19.” A few beeps sounded and the screen lit up. A scan of a person showed up on the screen and Jenner looked up at it. Everyone spread out and looked from him to the screen. “Few people ever got a chance to see this. Very few,” he said. “Is that a brain?” Carl asked in amazement. “An extraordinary one. Not that it matters in the end,” Jenner told him, mumbling the last part. “Take us in for E.I.V..”
Vi listened, saying, “Enhanced internal view.” Then she changed the screen. “What are those lights?” Lori asked. Jenner looked back at her for a second before giving his attention back to the screen. “It's a person's life... experiences, memories. It's everything. Somewhere in all that organic wiring, all those ripples of light, is you... the thing that makes you unique. And human.” Daryl scoffed, “You don't make sense ever.” I rolled my eyes and looked at him. “Those are synapses, electric impulses in the brain that carry all the messages. They determine everything a person says, does or thinks from the moment of birth to the moment of death,” Jenner continued.
“Death? That's what this is, a vigil?” Lori asked. “Yes. Or rather the playback of the vigil,” he clarified. “This person died? Who?” Andrea asked. Jenner looked at the monitor and was silent for a few seconds. “Test subject 19. Someone who was bitten and infected... And volunteered to have us record the process. Vi, scan forward to the first event.”
“Scanning to first event,” she said and a new image showed up. We watched as the lights slowly faded to black. “What is that?” I asked. “It invades the brain like meningitis. The adrenal glands hemorrhage, the brain goes into shutdown, then the major organs. Then death. Everything you ever were or ever will be... Gone,” he explained. “Is that what happened to Jim?” I heard Sophia ask Carol. “Yes.”
Andrea was looking at the screen and a few tears fell and Jenner looked at her with a little concern. “She lost somebody two days ago. Her sister,” Lori informed him. Jenner gave Andrea a soft look, “I lost somebody too. I know how devastating it is. Scan to the second event.”
“Scanning to second event,”Vi annoyed and switched to the sec9nded event. TS-19's brain lit up but not like before. “The resurrection times vary wildly. We had reports of it happening in as little as three minutes. The longest we heard of was eight hours. In the case of this patient, it was two hours, one minute... Seven seconds.” I looked fr9mt the screen to Jenner. He was talking like he knew this person. “It restarts the brain?” I asked.“No, just the brain stem. Basically, it gets them up and moving,” Jenner said. “But they're not alive?” Andrea asked.
“You tell me,” Jenner said, looking at her. She looked back at the screen, “It's nothing like before. Most of that brain is dark.” Jenner nodded and hummed. “Dark, lifeless, dead. The frontal lobe, the neocortex, the human part... That doesn't come back. The you part. Just a shell driven by mindless instinct.” Al of a sudden something went through the head of TS-19 “God. What was that?” Carol asked. “He shot his patient in the head. Didn't you?” Andrea asked.
Jenner didn't respond, instead he said, “Vi, power down the main screen and the workstations.” Vi shut the power down the main screen and workstations. “You have no idea what it is, do you?” Lori asked. “It could be microbial, viral, parasitic, - fungal,” he lis5ed pff. “Or the wrath of God?” Jacquie said. “There is that.”
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hiro--aoki · 8 months ago
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TWD Incorrect Quotes from my classmates
Tw: contains swear words, mention of sex, use of slut and maybe some other offense things, idk
Michonne: Because your minds are still developing you want to….
Y/N: Do drugs!
Michonne: Take more risks…
Y/N: Nah…
Michonne: A risk is any unsafe action or stupid, thoughtless and careless behaviour.
Carl to Y/N: Literally me.
*Coughs that sound like an erupting volcano*
Abraham: My tummy hurts.
Michonne: Can you name three risks?
Merle: Sex with no protection!
Carl: A gun with no safety on!
Y/N: Having a forehead as big as Merle’s!
Deanna: So, we have codes A, C and D.
Rick: Why not code B? Where’s the B????
Aaron: B-cause.
Glenn: You should b- ashamed of yourself…. I’m not funny
Maggie: You’re not funny
Deanna: So, code A stands for….?
Daryl: Ass!
Eugene: Acceptable!
Aaron: Yeah *fistbump*
Y/N: Nerd!
Deanna: What about code C?
Maggie: Coffee.
Eugene: Calculated!
Deanna: Yes! How about code D?
Abraham: Deez nuts!
Sasha: Dangerous!
Carol: Destructive!
Deanna: Yeah! You guys concern me!
Y/N: Ron, shut up you acoustic monk.
Glenn: Guys I accidentally wrote relationhips instead of relationships.
Carl: Y/N, has relationhips.
Y/N: What’s that supposed to mean?!?!
Y/N: Carl, has a shirt that says ‘ Roblox is life’ shirt, and he said it suits me.
Negan: Feel how soft my water bottle is.
Simon: Stop stroking your water bottle like that!
Michonne: What’s something that was legal, but was a destructive decision?
Merle: Weed!
Enid: I wanna jump off a cliff.
Y/N: I wanna kiss a 12 gauge.
Enid: My dad jumped out of a plane without a parachute…
Carl: My dad is a plane.
Andrea: My butt hurts.
Dale: *Gives strange look*
Andrea: You’re looking at me like you wanna fuck me.
Dale: What?
Shane: Ha!
Dale: No, I actually didn’t hear.
Amy: Real.
Negan: Did you wash your ass today?
Michonne: So, tell me an example of a safety risk?
Merle: Your mom
Michonne: …and some conatin cannabis
Judith: These gummies tastes funny.
*Watching a budget direct ad and Captain Risky comes on*
Jesus: Smash
Ron: Bro’s him
Daryl: I mean he has all the skills
Carl: Bluds the main character
Y/N: You look like a potato
Dwight: You look like a trash can
Y/N: Nuh uh
Dwight: Yeah uh
Negan: Dwight, keep working *Lightly caresses the shovel Dwight’s hand*
Y/N: Stop!
Dwight: Stop it I don’t like it!
Y/N: Yes, we are Sluts
Rosita: Sexy Ladies Under Tonnes of Stress
Y/N: I can’t make a decision that big, I can’t even tie my own shoes!
Enid: Please tell me you’re joking.
Y/N: I’m not, I tie them like a three-year old! Let me show you!
Enid: No, no thanks…
Y/N: Watch my feet! Watch my shoes. *Ties laces with two loops*
Enid: Ew *visibly cringes*
Carl: …I just asked if you wanted pancakes or waffles….
Glenn: Look how much funny shit we said today.
Daryl: I can’t it’s too black
Glenn: Ayo?
Daryl: I meant too dark!
Y/N: Nah!
*Glenn adjusts lighting*
Daryl: Now it’s too white!
Y/N: !!!
Daryl: Too bright! Too bright!
Negan: BALLS
Y/N: Gotta rizz ‘em with the ‘tism
Negan: I’m a Savior….save ya mom!
*Carl and Ron carrying a log*
Enid: For a second I thought that was in their ass’s
Y/N: I want them up my ass
Enid: What?
Y/N: What?
*Truck passes*
Daryl: Awww yeah, listen to tha’
Y/N: I can smell the air…
Daryl: No shit, sherlock!
Glenn: Don’t judge a book by it’s-
Eugene: Erm actually, it’s in the human instincts system, for us to make a quick judgement on a person appearance to determine whether they are friend or foe.
Y/N: Oooh, did I appear friend or foe when you first saw me?
Eugene: Well, when I first encountered you, you looked like you couldn’t hurt a fly, but since then, I have realised my mistake and have grown scared of you.
Rosita: He’s scared of everything…
Eugene: Not pickles!
Beth: What song do you wear?
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hammy-fan · 2 years ago
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TWD Roller skating hcs
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(To make up for my utter lack of skill)
Rick is average, but he falls on his ass way too often
Shane is so good at it it’s unbelievable. He will straight up be making laps in everyone, and occasionally goes backwards just to mock everyone
Lori is too busy helping Carl, but if she was on her own she’s pretty decent, but she’s better at roller blading
Carl is being helped by Lori, but he’s actually not that bad, in fact he’s pretty decent
Andrea is really bad, she tries to walk but it’s quite literally impossible. She does however keep trying despite how many times she’s fallen
Dale is the one old man wearing booty shorts and actually slaying so hard he is doing spins, twirls, the whole shabang
Glenn is using one of the PVC pipe helper things and still manages to fall every couple of seconds
Daryl refuses to do it because the second he put on skates he fell on his ass, so he just stands at the edge of the rink
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