#deanna young

[angelsdean]

there's someone else we forgot to say happy birthday to today, eric kripke's wife, deanna. yes that is her real name. he is so normal<3

[gorgynei]

chetney and deanna circa 500 pd

[erzvolnes]

fearne: i can scry on deanna anytime i want BH: how?? fearne:

[cringefaecompilation]

i thought canon szorlok in critical role made me mad, tell me why LUDINUS DA'LETH LOOKS LIKE HE'S THIRTY

[auroura101]

Just a small thought I had while doodling :^)

[contemplationncoffee]

If You Wanted Me Dead, You Should Have Just Said || Multi-Female

[cultfaction]

Land of the Giants

Land of the Giants was a science fiction television series that captivated audiences during its original run from 1968 to 1970. Created by Irwin Allen, the mastermind behind other iconic sci-fi series like Lost in Space, The Time Tunnel, and Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea, the show takes viewers on an imaginative journey into a world where a group of people find themselves stranded on an…

[ragdollsammy]

i do like john is more often than not the damsel in distress. i think carlos is a much more interesting male character than john at this age

[o0anapher0o]

I know Lwaxana was originally written as a horny cougar joke but I kinda love the idea that betazoids have a different reproductive curve than humans and reach peak fertility in their forties or fifties. There would be a whole cultural idea around having to have at least a few decades of life experience and a well established career before you're even considered ready to raise a child.

All this to say that Lwaxana having Deanna in her twenties was probably a huge scandal. Like, this girl from this incredibly prestigious family having the equivalent of a teenage pregnancy and then, because the father is a human the child is basically disabled as well. Prime gossip material.

I believe that is why Lwaxana is like that. She had to learn to not give a shit about other people's opinion very young and she became the legend of a federation ambassador and the woman who will live her best life no matter what just to show them.

[ghostboneswrites2]

I Won’t Tell if You Don’t

Summary: Daryl comes across you smoking in the gazebo.

Era: Alexandria

Pair: Daryl x Reader (I don’t believe readers pronouns are used)

Genre: Casual, stoner vibes

Note: I actually have two versions of this but the other one is spicy 🥵 should I post it?

Warnings: TWD typical stuff, marijuana

      While the other Alexandrians were excited for Deanna’s party for the newcomers, you were just excited to have some time alone while everyone else was gathered in one place. You wandered around the street, searching for a comfortable place to unwind. You eventually settled on the gazebo.

         You held the tip of the thin paper cylinder over the flame of your lighter, spinning it delicately until it was well lit. Finally, you were able to bring it to your lips and taking a puff. The familiar taste brought you joy. You relaxed back into the bench and took another puff. Soon, your eyes felt heavy and the buzz of internal monologue hushed into nothing. At last, you felt some semblance of peace.

        Daryl was going to try to go to the party. Really, he was, but as he stood on Deanna’s front lawn and watched the crowd of bodies through the window, he couldn’t bring himself up the steps. 

         So, he found himself wandering through the streets until a familiar skunky stench wafted into his nostrils. He stopped and turned, scanning his surroundings until his eyes landed on a silhouette in the gazebo. 

        Curiosity took hold of his legs and carried him toward the stranger, masked in darkness, only lit up by the red cherry at the tip of their joint. When you, the young Alexandrian of whom he’d only caught a few quick glances, became clearer in the shroud of darkness and haze of smoke, he tilted his head. You weren’t the type he could easily read, unlike most. The few times he had caught your eyes since he’d arrived, he could never quite make out what it was you were thinking or feeling. 

        The other Alexandrians were curious and wary, or just outright friendly and naive. You always had a knowingness about you, as if everything you saw were things you’d seen before. Nothing seemed to surprise or intrigue you.

        It wasn’t until you finally acknowledged him that he realized he was staring.

        “I won’t tell if you don’t.” You offered, outstretching your arm slowly, lazily offering him a puff. He hesitated, glancing back in the direction of Deanna’s house before he decided he had nothing to lose. He stepped up onto the gazebo and accepted your gesture. The end of the little thing fit perfectly in his lips, the taste familiar as he took a long drag and held it in. He exhaled slowly, a cloud of smoke billowing around you. 

       You studied him. He was brooding and reserved. There was a sadness about him; an unsureness. He always seemed as uncomfortable, always flicking his eyes around, guarding his peripherals. You watched as he pulled the joint back to his lips and took another long drag, his eyelids drooping some as he exhaled again. An aura of calmness settled in the space between you two as he passed your joint back to you. You hissed as you sucked in another puff, exhaling as you spoke: “So, how’s apocalyptic suburbia treating you so far?” 

        He tutted at that, finding that he found the illusion of safety quite uncomfortable. 

        “It’s weird.” He admitted. You nodded.

        “Yeah.” You agreed. “I gotta admit.. Listening to old ladies complain about pasta makers never gets any less weird. Not after living out there.” 

         “How long?” He asked as you took in another hit, blowing rings out of the smoke.

        “Got here like.. I don’t know… Two months ago, maybe? Was on my own before that.” You shrugged. If it weren’t for the slowness of your thoughts, you would have been fighting away memories and flashbacks of the horrors of the world beyond the walls. 

        “Mm.” He nodded, taking the joint back as you passed it again. “Y’all grow this shit here, or somethin’?” 

         You chuckled and shook your head. “Nah, found somebody’s stash before I got here. Running kinda low.” 

        “Any seeds in that stash? Could grow some.” He suggested. 

        “There were a few.” You nodded with a hum. “Wouldn’t know where to start, though. I don’t have much of a green thumb.”

        “I can help.” He offered, finally feeling lazed enough to take a set beside you as he took a hit. 

        “Hell yeah.” You nodded. Your mind was emptying out more and more, the longer you sat there and let the high settle in. He was a tad behind, but he was getting there too. A comfortable silence rose out of the dark, while the two of you enjoyed smoking together. Eventually the joint was running short, burning fingers as you both tried to get the last of what the sticky herb had to offer. When it was out, you tossed it, but neither of you moved. You were both glued by the ass to the bench.

        “Damn.” He finally spoke. His voice was raspy and low, more than usual. “Some good shit.” 

        You giggled.

        “Enjoy it, man.” You said with a stoner-like slowness. “It’s nice to relax sometimes .”

        “Ain’t had no time to relax.” He admitted.

        “Well ya do now.” You reasoned. 

        “Do I?” He asked, mostly to himself, not necessarily intending to say it out loud. You smiled and nudged his arm. 

          “Yeah, until Deanna stops by with work duties and all that jazz.” You retorted.

        “What’d she give you?” He wondered.

        “At first she sent me on a run with her douchebags — I mean sons— but I didn’t like how they operated. Now I give Olivia days off at the armory and the pantry or help with the cars.”

        “Cars? You some kind o’ mechanic?”

        “Nah. My dad was, and my brother after him, so.” You shrugged.

        “My dad was just an asshole. And my brother, after him.” He joked. You snickered.

        “Didn’t take you for a comedian — Uh.. What was your name?”

        “Daryl. You?”

        “(Y/N).” 

        “Huh.” He nodded before his stomach growled. He looked down at his stomach, as did you, then you both met eyes. You laughed at little, a goofy laugh that only escaped your lips when you were in the clutches of THC or alcohol. 

         “Hungry?” You asked.

         “Why, ya got some snacks?” 

        “No.” You giggled. “But Aaron’s making spaghetti tonight and he invited me over.” 

        “Lucky you.” He grumbled. 

        “Come on, Daryl. There’s always extra.” You announced, pushing yourself off the bench and extending him a hand. He eyed you for a moment, searching for an ulterior motive. Ultimately his munchies won, and he allowed you to help him to his feet. 

Masterlist // Taglist

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[pedge-page]

I'm on a baby Sarah binge with Joel and Preggo Wife.

@millercontracting this ones for you!

- - - -

2 year old Sarah sitting in her car seat watching outside go by in Joel's truck when she spots something in the neighbors flower bed.

"DADDY!"

"Hmm?"

"Keekee!" She shouts excitedly, pointing out the window.

Joel looks around the street but would have no idea what a keekee would look like if it were right in frojt of his face.

"What's that baby?"

"Kee kee! I WAN keekee!"

"I... honey no 'keekee' now okay?" Hes gonna have to ask you what new definition shes concoted today. You're way better at deciphering and translating Sarah's botched verbiage than he is.

But Sarah starts tossing her legs up and down crying "KEEKEE! I WAN KEE KEE!" All the way home.

And even as he wrestles her squirming body out of the car seat and carries her by her ankles into the house, she's still crying KeeKee over and over again.

"WHAT is a KeeKee!" You shout, running over to carefully take Sarah from Joels inhuman manhandling and set her up right on her tiny feet. You wipe away her eyes as fat tears slide down her chubby red cheeks, boogers spilling down her nose.

"I dont know! She saw something and won't shut up!"

"I WAN KEEKEE!" she wails pointing to the door with slunch shoulders. She huffs each breath and cry as if she's hyperventilating.

"Sarah--"

"KEEKEE. MOMMY KEE KEE. KEE KEE. KEEKEEKEEKEEKEE--"

You take her hand and walk with her outside.

"Where are you going??" Joel shouts from the entryway.

"She could have dropped something! She's not gonna calm until we find out what--"

"Kee kee!" She shouts happily, tugging your arm to pull you towards the neighbors house.

Deanna waves over to you and a very excited Sarah. Your neighbor has one hand protectively slung under the chest of Ramsey, her sphinx cat that you and Joel had baby sat 2 summers ago.

"Hey! Ramses slipped out the front door and was prowling around the garden bed."

Sarah giggly laughs and points to Ramses naked little self.

"Good thing you caught him! Do you mind if Sarah pets him?" You ask hesitantly. She seems to be distracted by the cat, now happy and tugging on your arm incessantly.

Deanna sets down on her knee and shows Sarah how to gently pat Ramses with two fingers on the head.

The toddler crouches down in a squat, giggles excitedly and says "Kee Kee!" As Ramses purrs under her belly.

You and Joel look over at one another in realization and say in unison: "Kitty Kitty!"

-

Sarah looks up to you expectedly 10 seconds later. "Momma, kee kee?" She asks sweetly.

You feel your heart swell at such a brilliantly beautiful display of your young daughter taking passion in love and nature and animals, so gentle and kind and soft, full of heart and warmth, deserving that kind of companionship for herself--

"Absolutely not. Don't you dare," Joel snaps at YOU, knowing the face you were about to make as you turned to him to open your mouth and ask if you could get a KeeKee.

[okami-ojou]

I just love Travis and Aabrya at the table next to each other, their reactions, their faces is always on point and i always just giggle at their sheningans and this time Aabrya playing Chetney's ex-fling, its just perfect. when i heard Deanna making the beanie i had to draw it.. so here we have tiny young Chetney and Deanna

[lostyesterday]

One of my favorite types of relationships in Star Trek are close friendships between characters who are in certain ways exact opposites but who nonetheless get along really well and have found strong common ground on which to base their relationship. Some examples:

Data and Deanna: Opposite relationships to emotion and opposite methods of attempting to understand/connect with other people. Deanna literally senses other people’s emotions and is about as intimately connected with emotion as a person can be, while Data believes he has no emotions and has difficulty understanding the emotional states of others. Despite this, they get along really well and greatly respect each other’s perspective. Part of the reason is potentially because both characters have a strong drive to reach out to and connect with other people, even if their starting points for this goal and their methods of attempting to accomplish it are very different.

Kira and Jadzia: Opposite in a lot of ways, but particularly in terms of their relationships to religion and other elements of their respective cultures. Religion and other aspects of Bajoran culture are deeply central to Kira’s identity and understanding of the world, whereas Jadzia couldn’t care less about religion and has an ambivalent relationship with her own culture. Sometimes, she rebels against it or seems to turn away from it in favor of seeking connections with other cultures (such as Klingon or Ferengi culture). They also have opposite personalities in many ways – such as their opposite approaches to leisure with Kira unable to relate to Jadzia’s ways of enjoying herself. Yet despite these major differences in ideology and approach to life, the two of them spend a lot of time together and are close friends. Maybe this is partially because one thing they do both have in common is a sort of open-mindedness about difference – an acceptance of a difference of perspective as it is without truly resolving it. (Up to a point, of course, especially in Kira’s case, but I do think that the fact that both of them have several close friendships with characters with whom they disagree on a large number of topics indicates that they share this open-mindedness).

Jake and Nog: Opposite life trajectories. They come from very different cultures and are introduced to the audience in opposite ways (as a well-behaved child vs. a petty criminal), but the strength of their connection is immediate and enduring despite all the barriers put between them. What makes the contrast between them extra interesting is how Nog is the one to become a Starfleet officer, and how the contrast between their personalities in later seasons (Nog being rigid and organized while Jake is more relaxed and disorganized) is very much not what you’d expect when you first meet their characters in season 1.

Harry and B’Elanna: Opposite relationships to/histories with Starfleet. Harry is the golden boy – the young prodigy with a bright future who represents the very best of Starfleet and can (supposedly) do no wrong. B’Elanna seemingly failed Starfleet and was failed by Starfleet in every sense. She couldn’t make it through the Academy because she felt like she couldn’t belong there – because she was made to feel that way throughout her life. And yet it’s within Starfleet (at least the make-shift Starfleet on Voyager) that the two of them connect and become friends. And maybe in some ways that’s because you don’t need to go far below the surface to see cracks in Harry’s supposed Starfleet perfection, and also because it takes only the promise of belief and support from a few (including Harry) for B’Elanna to reforge her connection with Starfleet.

Mariner and Boimler: Opposite personalities in basically every way (at least initially). Mariner is bold, rebellious, and reckless while Boimler is a cautious obsessive rule-follower. They approach basically every situation in opposite ways, and yet they are inseparable best friends. It’s interesting to see them both become a little more like each other over time, and maybe that trajectory is partly why they’re so close.

Interestingly, in some of these cases, what initially seems to be a great difference between two characters actually becomes a source of common ground between them – a contrast becomes a parallel. I find this kind of connection between characters who might in theory be opposed to each other very compelling. In a way, characters being best friends despite being really different gets to the heart of what Star Trek, at its best, is about.

[dadrielle]

God as much as I'm enjoying Team Uthodurn and how much I love Deanna and FRIDA, I am desperate to see Ashton and Orym witnessing Laudna in Professional Survivor mode.

Like those two are so ultimately young compared to her, and while they've had great personal tragedies, they've never lived through anything actually apocalyptic. Laudna basically has.

I want her to pick them up by the scruffs of their forlorn necks and teach them Survival in Any Context (though not at any cost). Show them the Laudna that scrabbled 30 years for a future without knowing if she'd ever really get one. I wanna see a sharp-eyed Laudna who has a mission and has no patience for wallowing in despair.

*grabby handssss*

[transchesters]

the first time sam wears a dress.

dean had been a boy from the moment he was placed into his mother’s arms as a baby, even though the doctors proclaimed otherwise. even mary knew, when she looked into her child’s eyes, that he was a boy.

and as he grew, mary was proved right. dean threw aside anything with bows or skirts, but his eyes, still filled with wonder at the time, would light up at the blue t-shirts with dinosaur print and the torn up jeans. so deanna turned to dean, and john accepted it as it was. he knew his wife, knew she wasn’t delusional. and when mary got pregnant again, the thought of another boy running around the house with little dean as an older brother filled their hearts with warmth.

maybe sam was too young for mary to know any better, to know that her second son was actually her only daughter. maybe if she had lived past sam’s six-month birthday, she would have dressed her in the little dresses dean had detested.

but mary was dead, and john didn’t care what the hell his boys’ thought. what mattered was raising two hunters, trained to take down the things that ruined their lives. and sam picked up on that at a young age, and kept the deepest parts of herself, *to* herself. all she knew was her older brother and her father; she never got a chance to see any femininity in her life. her life, which for as long as she remembered, was guns and training and learning all the lore.

now, sam is fourteen. now, she is curious about the girls she meets at one school or the other, all with long hair and pretty skirts and colored eyelids. now, sam doesn’t know what’s wrong with her and why she longs for those things.

dean had been out on a supply run with their father, leaving sam to study or do whatever reclusive nerds do in their free time. sam was told to stay home by both dean and john, and they expected her to do exactly that considering most of the time, she was a perfect, obedient son. but could you blame her for wanting a bit more? to want to explore her curiosities and find out what they mean?

so she went to the local thrift shop in their current, rundown town. just to look, that’s all! that’s at least what she told herself as she walked inside and made a beeline for the women’s section.

sam felt close to panicking as she yanks a pale green dress from the racks and rushes over to the cashier. she offers some vague comment that it’s *”for my sister,”* and quickly paid and rushed back to the motel.

it’s late when dean and john return. john retires to his own room immediately, grabbing a beer and bottle of whiskey on the way. he leaves dean to unload supplies and tuck them away wherever they belong in the impala, before he’s shambling into his shared room with sam.

sam, who is standing in front of the bathroom mirror, gazing intently at herself, turning this way and that to watch the flowy dress twirl around her. she’s so lost in her mind that she doesn’t look up until dean slams the door shut, staring at her with wide eyes.

“dean! i-i, uh, i was just-” sam rambles, stumbling over her words as she quickly yanks the dress over her head, balling it up and holding it behind her as if dean will forget she was ever wearing it. “i just thought it was cool, it’s nothing, i swear! please— please don’t tell dad.”

dean feels stupid very suddenly. has he been ignoring obvious signs, similar to ones he showed when he was yonguer? a well of grief opens up within him, one he has worked very hard on squashing into a tiny ball and shoving it in the back of his mind. he misses his mother, and wishes desperately that she were here to help him say the right things.

the look on dean’s face is unreadable as all of this passes through his mind, at least until he remembers to soften it. until he offers sammy a smile. “it’s cool. i get it.”

the words do nothing to quell sam's panic. she shuffles out of the bathroom, keeping the dress clutched tightly behind her as if revealing it to dean would incite some unknowable rage. she is already the freak of the family, the one who wants nothing to do with the guns and the hunting and the moving town to town. and now, she’s a boy who wears dresses. she doesn’s even have the vocabulary to express the fact that she doesn’t feel like a boy at all!

“i'll get rid of it,” she mutters, shoving it under her bed, scrambling to grab one of dean's hand-me-down shirts and pulling it on.

“sammy. it's okay.” dean steps foward as his words still seem to do nothing. he grabs sam's shoulders, forcing her to look at him. “stay,” he states, before he takes a step back and begins to pull off his shirt. sam's face is screwed up, a mixture of confusion and distress, but watches nonetheless as dean drops his shirt to the side, revealing his chest, wrapped in the bandages from their first aid kits as usual.

“i guess i never really explained this to you,” dean mumbles under his breath, scratching at the bandages which make his whole upper body ache, but make his skin crawl when they aren't there. sam fidgets uncomfortably as she stands before her brother, shifting from foot to foot. she doesn't understand what he means, and he *hates* not understanding.

“can we just drop it, please?” she whines, averting her eyes as suddenly, dean begins tugging the bandages from his chest.

“look at me, dumbass,” dean grits out, because he doesn't have the words to explain this any better than just showing sammy.

maybe if things were different. maybe if mary was still here, they would have learned about this together. and when sam finally felt like sharing how she felt, they would be able to explain it to her together.

but mary is dead, and dean doesn't know what he is or what sam is other than winchesters'.

sam lifts her eyes finally when dean tells her to, and it's like she's seeing his brother for the first time. sure, she has seen dean naked before. they've shared a room forever, lived in impossibly small quarters, sometimes just the impala's backseat when john was too tired or drunk to find them a place. dean’s chest was different than his own, but he had never really thought about it. dean was a boy, and sam was a boy, and he never knew anything other than that.

until now.

sam’s eyes well up with tears as she finally understands. she and her brother are the same, yet different. she understands, and she feels understood, and it's so entirely overwhelming that she can't help but sniffle and wipe at her wet eyes.

dean rolls his eyes, his cheeks heating up as he yanks his shirt back on. “knock it off, sammy,” he grumbles, but there is a note of fondness in his voice he can't help. “it's fine. we'll deal with it.”

they both know it's going to suck. dean was lucky to look boyish enough that he passed pretty well. under his dad's big jacket and his oversized, thrifted clothes, no one questioned him. but sam thinks it won't be quite the same for her. and what is she supposed to tell her dad?!

perhaps those are questions for another time.

when sam pulls the dress back on under her big shirt and crawls into bed that way, dean doesn't say anything. when dean wraps his chest again, sam looks away. she wonders if the bruises lining his sides hurt. she wonders why their bodies are the way they are, both itching for the other's skin. why must sam’s chest concave when dean wants nothing but a falt chest? why must dean hide curved hips under baggy jeans when sam wishes she had anything besides her stick-like figure?

the sibilings go to sleep, a little more in tune with the other, and a little bit sadder for the other.

[sukunasbow]

childhood friends, daryl dixon.

summary: in which you reunite with your childhood friend, only for him to underestimate your value in the current state of the world.

warnings: fem!reader, surgeon!reader, typical twd violence, and not proof read atm.

notes: request from anon! i put a small twist on this request so i hope you enjoy! also i really need to start proof reading my work right away cause i feel like there might be tons of little embarrassing mistakes i haven’t noticed so let me know if that’s a common thing on all my ‘not yet proof read’ fics because if so i’m going to go back and fix them, ty bbies!

One thing Daryl Dixon still remembers about his life before the dead started walking, is his childhood best friend. The girl that he always went to when he was upset, the girl that always knew how to cheer him up, and that same girl that eventually moved away before the two of them started high school, leaving him heartbroken as her and her family drove off to go live in a small community far away from him, not looking back.

Whenever the memories of that girl cloud his mind, he feels pathetic, quickly reminding himself that she’s probably a walker now, having absolutely no memory of him or her own childhood.

However, the one possibility that sounded insane to him, happens to be the reality. That girl is you, who’s younger self hated her parents for ripping her away from everything and everyone she’s known since birth to move to Alexandria, but now is extremely grateful for them, as she has a safe place to stay in during the world going to shit.

“(Y/N).” A loud voice calls you from outside your house, causing you to walk downstairs and open the door. “Deanna, what’s up? It’s like three in the morning.” You sigh, leaning on the door frame, wearing fluffy slippers and a pair of shorts with a tank top. “We have a group that just arrived, some of them need medical attention and check ups.” The older lady explains, bring your attention to the group of people standing in the middle of the road with Aaron. “Alright, one second.” You nod, grabbing your jacket off of the coat rack and quickly putting it on, then following Deanna towards the group.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is (Y/N) (L/N), she’s our nurse and she’s going to do routine check ups on everyone.” The leader of your community explains to the new residents, causing everyone to turn to face you. “Um, I’m gonna check the children first.” You say, a warm smile on your face, hoping to relieve the tension between everyone. “(Y/N)?” Someone says, causing your eyes to follow their voice, being greeted by the sight of someone you recognize. “Daryl?” You gasp. His eyes are wide as you run up to him and hug him, “Oh my god, I haven’t seen you in forever! I didn’t even know if you were…” You don’t finish your sentence, assuming he knows what you were going to say. “Yeah, same.” He breathes out, warming up to the hug and wrapping his arms around you. “You know her?” Another man cuts in, causing you to pull away from Daryl. “She was my friend way back, before high school.” He explains to the other man, “Sorry, who are you?” You ask. “Rick, Rick Grimes.” The man, who you now know as Rick, hesitantly replies. “Oh, nice to meet you. These are your children, yes?” You glance at the young girl he’s holding and the older boy that’s next to him. “Yes.” He nods. “Okay, Do you mind if I take them to the infirmary and check for bites or injuries? It’s a typical procedure here.” You explain. He doesn’t respond. “You can of course come with us.” You add, hoping it convinced him, “Yeah, sure.” He agrees this time. “Okay, I’ll see you soon.” You softly smile at Daryl before turning around, “Come with me, please.” You instruct Rick and his family. “(Y/N), let me know if there’s any issues.” Deanna stops you before you start walking, a concerned look in her eyes. You raise an eyebrow, slightly confused at her worried state, “Of course.” You continue walking.

“Okay, Daryl, your turn.” You walk out of the infirmary room, gesturing to the man that’s sitting on the porch of the building, waiting for the other member’s of his group do get done with their checkups. “Mk.” He gets up, following you back into the room, closing the door behind him. “So, just sit here.” You tap on the chair in the middle of the room, “I’m basically just asking you questions about how you feel and checking your temperature, things like that.” You say your usually ‘speech’, something you usually do in hopes of comforting new group members. “Alright.” He sits down, watching as you shuffle around the room, grabbing a pen and clipboard off of one of the counters. “First question, do you have any bites or scratches?” You ask him. “That’s a stupid question. That’s why these people got you askin’?” He scoffs. You bluntly stare at him, “It’s procedure.” The man shakes his head, “Naw.” You check the ‘no’ box on the paperwork. “Okay, common symptoms of being turned include a fever, so I’m going to check your temperature now.” You plsce your clipboard to the side, getting off of the small stool and walking towards a cabinet filled with medical equipment. “Ya even a real nurse?” Daryl asks. “I went to university, then graduated, then became a top surgeon, so yeah, I have most of the skills to help people.” You roll your eyes, turning around and sitting back down on the stool in front of him. “Ahh, big shot.” He hums as you check his temperature. “No fever, you’re hopefully, not infected.” You sarcastically smile. “Now, you and your friend Rick are coming on a supply run with me tomorrow morning, so go get some sleep.” You stand up and gesture for him to leave the infirmary. “Your coming on a supply run? I don’t think you should, it’s dangerous.” He gives you a weird look. “I think I can handle it.” You laugh his comment off. “Based off the rest of these people, y’all don’t stand a chance if these walks come down, not without my group.” He adds. “I can handle myself. Some of the other residents might not have as much skill as your group, but I assure you, I got just as much experience as you. I’ll be a great addition to the supply runs. Anyways, I usually do them, at least before you guys got here.” You glare at him, roughly closing the medical cabinet. He doesn’t say anything, worry and doubt in his mind as he leaves the room, shutting the door and leaving you alone to clean up.

“Morning.” You walk up to the two men that are standing just outside of the gate, talking to each other in low whispers.“Good morning.” Rick turns around when he hears your voice. You nod, not bothering to make any more conversation, considering your last conversation involved Daryl undermining your capability of navigating the state of the world outside of Alexandria. “Close the gates.” You yell back to the lady on watch, you think her name’s Rosita. “Got it.” She starts closing the gate as the three of you walk away from the safe haven, heading towards a nearby town.

“We need more baby food, for, uh, Judith.” You mumble, reading the list on the small crumpled paper you’re holding. “Daryl.” Rick’s panicked voice sends shivers down you spine, causing you to look up with a concerned look on your face, greeted by the sight of a small group of walkers inching closer to you and the two men. “Shit.” You huff. The three of you quickly get your knives ready, moving away from each other and towards the walkers. While Rick and Daryl deal with the rest of the dead, you deal with about five of your own. Plunging your knife into each of their skulls, you quickly kill all of them, leaving blood splatters all over your clothes. “Am I capable of going on supply runs, now?” You turn to face Daryl, opening your mouth to continue, but quickly running towards him when you notice a walker push him over and fall on top of his body. “Rick!” You call the other man’s name, who just finished dealing with another walker, to get his attention. He turns around and is quick to follow you towards the other man. However, you get there before him, standing over the Walker and jamming your knife into the back of it’s head. Letting out a tired sigh, you wipe some more blood off of your forehead, then shoving the body of the walker off of Daryl. “Thanks.” He manages to breathe out. “Mhm.” You nod. You know it’s stubborn to still be pissed about what he said to you when he almost got eaten alive, but considering you saved his life despite his lack of faith in your survival skills, it felt too ironic.

Walking up and down the aisles of the small and abandoned grocery store, Daryl follows you around like a small puppy. “Why are you following me around? Go follow Rick.” You shake your head, tossing another box of old pasta into your bag. “Rick’s in the other store, I wanted to shop in this store.” Daryl scratches the back of his neck, attempting to create an excuse to walk with you, or really, follow behind you. “Sure.” You roll your eyes. “Hold this.” You abruptly stop and pass your bag to Daryl, the man taking it from you and watching as you stand up on your toes to reach a different box of pasta that’s on the highest shelf. “Here.” You drop the pasta box down, Daryl managing to catch it with your bag. Standing back down, you take the bag back from him, before moving to walk down the next aisle. “I’m sorry, alright? I know you’re capable of handling yourself, I just hadn’t seen you in so long and all those other residents have barely even seen the outside world since moving to that place.” He huffs, grabbing your arm before you can continue to sulk around the store. “I haven’t seen you in, I don’t even know how long at this point, and one of the first real conversations we had, involved you making a snap judgement and regarding me as useless aside from being a nurse.” You look at him, your tone harsh. “I’m sorry, how many times I gotta say it?” Daryl scoffs. “I want you to admit that you were wrong.” You cross your arms, holding them up your chest, your mouth pressed into a firm line. “Fine.” He pauses, “I was wrong, you’re not useless, I never even meant to say that.” He continues. His voice is low like usual, but his facial expression tells a different story, a soft look in his eyes with a small but genuine smile forming. “You’re forgiven.” You hold yourself back from smiling, “I guess.” You shrug. “You’re more stubborn than me, huh?” He laughs. “Always been that way, remember when I didn’t talk to you for a full day because you took my ice cream?” You playfully bump his arm with your arm, “Oh, I remember.” He says.

Daryl never thought he’d see you again, but now that he’s standing right in front of you, the two of you laughing and making jokes, he can start to feel those certain butterflies he felt in his stomach from when he was younger. The butterflies that only showed up whenever he was near you.