#lola-andheruniverse

[carylerxsecretsanta]

Written For: @lola-andheruniverse 

Title:  Paper Clips and Post-it Notes  Author:  @breb23 Rating:  T (language and vague sexual references)  Summary:  Stuck at The Sanctuary as they weather the storm, Daryl and Carol have a talk. A/N:  Happy happy holidays!!! I hope you enjoy this 🥹 I was SO excited when I was given your name for Secret Santa!! Sorry it's so angsty hahahaaha MERRY MERRY CHRISTMAS I hope your day is filled with love and joy and reading and yummy food! ❤️

“I feel like I'm losing myself again.”

Her voice rings through his mind louder than the icy snow pelting the roof of The Sanctuary, louder than the snap of fire that burns beneath his perch where the others have gathered. It burns brightly, yet any heat is whisked away by the draft that cuts through the walls, bringing yet another tremble through Carol, who lays beside him, face tucked into the collar of her jacket. 

His fingers twitch, yearning to warm her, to bring her downstairs where they'll be closer to the fire, lower to the ground, where the snow won't settle against her coat and it won't feel like she's trying to punish herself yet again. 

Yet she seems more content here, despite the discomfort, her eyes a bit brighter than they were surrounded by her people, her husband, her forehead smoother and her lips relaxed. So his hands remain at his sides, twisting loose thread between each finger until it tightens like a tourniquet, blood pooling each tip before he releases and starts on the next finger. Pinky, twist, pull, release. Ring finger, twist, pull, release….

Across the room, the others sleep, huddled together like puppies around the warmth of fire, ice melting off their jackets before freezing to the ground not two feet from them. 

Carol coughs a wheezing breath, that deep-chested cough that has worried him since the cold nights before the prison. Her asthma has always been a concern, more to him than to her, although the stash of inhalers he's found throughout the years, albeit expired, ease his worries minutely. 

“Hey, c’mon, gotta take your medicine,” he nudges her side, his hand briefly rubbing her shoulder before sliding back to safety.

Her eyes open easily, as if she's been awake the entire time, and though they glisten from the cold, they are dull, empty as they meet his own gaze. 

I'm really trying to hang on, but I don't-

He shakes his head, as if to rid the words she'd spoken earlier, to rid himself of the defeated tone he's heard one too many times. She scares him deeply when she speaks that type of way, yet he freezes, every time. 

Another wheeze, and he's brought back to present, digging into his pocket and pulling out her inhaler. Eleven puffs remaining. 

He brings it to her lips and she rolls her eyes as she tilts closer to him, pushing down until Albuterol floods her lungs, once, twice, and then a sigh of relief. 

“Thanks, I never realize how bad it's getting until I take it,” she mutters, propping up against his bag. He nods, sliding it back in his jacket. 

“Shoulda brought you an extra from Alexandria, wasn't expecting this storm to be so bad,” he chews the side of his thumb.

Stupid, is what he's been. Stupid and distracted. If she needed it three or four times tonight, which is likely, that's three left for the entire journey back. And that's if they don't stop at Hilltop on the way. Maybe they have an extra stashed there, the heat of the building will help, but will it be-

“You're thinking awfully hard over there,” she smirks, pursing her lips as she meets his eyes again. “I'm a grown woman, you know that Daryl? I can take care of myself.” 

There's a hint of a tease under the seriousness and he isn't sure what to do with that. 

“Just ‘cause you can doesn't mean you should have to,” he shrugs, looking away from her softening eyes. 

They're skirting around the question he's been wondering this entire journey, a question that is completely inappropriate to be wondering when her grief is so fresh and their lives are at stake as the storm continues to gust around them. 

Yet he sees the way she avoids Ezekiel now, sees the desperate jealousy in The King's eyes when he sees them talking, sees the pale skin of her finger where the ring has been missing for 34 hours. Something has already happened. 

She says nothing for a while, only lays further back against his pack while scooting her legs closer. She smells of mint and snow and wool and he craves her touch now more than ever before, and something about the soft hum from her lips makes him think maybe she feels the same. 

A cough from below is a much needed distraction, and he clears his throat as Michonne stirs awake, stretching against the cement and then turning in their direction. 

“You guys get some sleep, I'll stay on watch for a while,” her voice grave but warm, the familiarity tugging something deep in him. Nostalgia, maybe?

He nods before laying back fully, his arm folded behind his head so he leaves some pillow space for Carol. 

“Reminds me of the prison,” he says to her after a while of silence, tilting his chin to his chest to see her better, but she's done a good job at burrowing deep in her coat, only a bit of hair poking through. “That second winter, it was something else having those secure walls around us. Still cold but nothing was worse than that first one.” 

“I don't know, there was something so cozy about celebrating our first Christmas in the break room of an Office Max,” she deadpans, shivering closer to him.

The makeshift paper clip ornaments, the green and red Post-it notes they put along the large front glass window, the uncomfortable sexual tension between Lori and Shane…has it really been almost a decade since then? 

“Remember when Glenn tried to flush his shit down with a bucket of snow?” He asks, grumbling a laugh just at the thought, the disappointed cop lecture that Rick had given him, and the sympathetic pat Hershel had given Glenn. 

Carol giggled next to him, curling her knees against the side of his thigh, and he's suddenly warmer than he's been all night. 

“Or when Beth and Maggie started singing Carol of the Bells for the twentieth time to help me ‘cope with my grief,’” she snorted and he huffed beside her.

“What, you mean to tell me their sisterly harmonies didn't soothe you?” 

Maybe it's the cold that gives him the courage, or maybe that funny feeling again, nostalgia, that brings with it warmth and comfort and every gooey emotion he's feeling right now, but his arm is around her before he can think twice about it, pulling her close enough to feel the line of her body against his side, her thigh resting against his own, so warm and so soft and he might have an issue soon if he doesn't pull himself together. 

Her hand tucks against the buttons of his coat, and he exhales slowly, willing himself any ounce of control before he really embarrasses himself. 

“Daryl?” There's a shift in her voice, her breath against his neck bringing a shiver through his body. This isn't going to be another Christmas throwback, he can tell at least that. 

“Hm?” 

“I broke things off with Ezekiel,” she starts, and it's like all the blood on his body rushes through his ears, his pulse thrumming heavily through his temples until the snow is muted and her voice is gone and the only thing left are those words against his neck. 

He says nothing. 

“I was, uh, wasn't sure if I'd be welcome back at Alexandria, do you think? We're gonna stop at Hilltop so I can stay there if you think that'd be best. I just, I need some space from him, from him looking at me like- like I-”

She doesn't continue, and he's trying hard, fuck he's trying harder than he ever has to keep his cool in check, to listen and to be a good friend the way she needs him to be and not to get too hung up on the fact that she just asked if she could come back to live where he lives, to-

“When I look at him, I know he sees the woman who got her son killed.” She dashes a mittened-hand across her cheek before grabbing his own, her thumb rubbing the cracked knuckle of his thumb. 

“And he's not wrong but I can’t- I won't survive if I keep-” She breathes shakily, worrying her bottom lip until it's angry and red, her teeth pulling on a snag of dried skin. He holds her eyes with his own. “He's wrong,” he tells her without saying a word. 

“You look at me like I'm me,” she murmurs into the darkness, shrugging as if that's the easiest thing in the world to say, as if they aren't looking at each other right now in a way that says a whole lot more than that. 

“C’n stay with me,” he says, his voice gruffer than it was five minutes ago. He clears his throat again, turning so he's facing the ceiling and not her, so the wind can hopefully cool him down for one goddamned second because holy shit did he just ask her to live with him? As in his tiny basement with one bed that isn't even a bed they'd be sharing with Dog? 

“Or I'm sure that you can share with Susan, she’s had extra room since her husband passed. Sure she wouldn't mind one bit,” he fidgets as he waits for her response, scratching an itch he doesn't have. 

“I don't want to annoy you,” she says quietly, quiet enough to miss if his entire existence didn't rely on what she said next. Nah, he wasn't going to miss a second of this. 

“You never annoy me,” he says. It's as simple as that, her presence makes him happier, no matter the day, no matter the year, no matter the hour. But how does he tell her that, show her that without exposing his biggest secret of all?

“Okay,” she whispers, something brightening in her eyes and fuck he needs to change the subject before he says too much. Okay. Okay. Okay. One word and it's like a bandaid, no, like stitches for the things she said earlier, that scared him more than anything else. Okay, I'll live with you. 

“Almost Christmas, we can make those ornaments again,” he says lamely, and he cringes at his own awkwardness, at his inability to follow through with-

She laughs sharply, loud enough for a few people to stir below, and fuck if that isn't the best sound he's heard in a while. 

“The paperclip ones?! Daryl those were so bad,” she sniffs another laugh, grinning in his direction. 

“Well sorry I'm the only creative one out of the bunch of ya,” he nudges her. “Now that you mention it, I think I have some extras laying around in my Christmas storage bin from last year.” 

More laughter, and he can't stop from smiling now, can't help but relish in that sound, or in the hope that fills him now, that maybe, maybe, they do have a future. 

[nonbinary-alien25]

tag 9 people you want to get to know better!

tagged by @yourlocalegotisticalqueerishere thanks for the tag!

Last Song: currently listening to ICU by Citizen Soldier (at the time of starting this post). before that it was Gone Too Soon by Daughtry. at the time of finishing and posting this, i am currently listening to Lucky One by Simple Plan

Favorite Color: dark purple. always dark purple. dark purple my beloved <3

Currently Reading: nothing atm because i haven't had the chance to make another trip to the library, but the last book i read was The Meaning of Birds by Jaye Robin Brown! Very sad but very good. I've also recently read Stars, Hide Your Fires by Jessica Mary Best, The Many Half-Lived Lives of Sam Sylvester by Maya MacGregor, and I Wish You All The Best by Mason Deaver! I very much enjoyed all 4 of them, but I will say that The Many Half-Lived Lives of Sam Sylvester was definitely my favorite :)

Currently Watching: rewatching Star Trek: Discovery with my dad (and introducing my mom to it at the same time), watching Only Murders in the Building with my mom for the first time, and my dad and I just recently finished watching Star Trek: Lower Decks. plus my mom and I are always in a perpetual rewatch of Legends of Tomorrow and/or Arrow (though they've been on pause a little bit lately). now I'm just waiting for The Walking Dead: Daryl Dixon: The Book of Carol to come back in late September lmao, among other shows

Last Movie: uhhhh I'm honestly not entirely sure. I think it might've been either Heart of Stone or Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes, but I could be wrong about that

Sweet, Spicy, or Savory: definitely savory. i do love salt lmao. i do still have a bit of a sweet tooth but nowhere near as much as i used to, and now it's mostly reserved for white chocolate and other vanilla-flavored things lmao

Relationship Status: i am so, so incredibly, painfully single and i do not see that changing anytime soon unfortunately

Current Obsessions: uhhh, i guess my usuals? Citizen Soldier, of course, Legends, The Walking Dead, Star Trek. those are like. the main ones, idk.

Tea or Coffee: neither. i can't stand to drink either of them, they both taste nasty to me ngl. just let me have apple juice and i'm set

Last Thing I Googled: uhhhh ngl i think it was 'savory definition' just to make sure my "i love salt" comment would make sense LMAO but before that it was the 4 books I've read recently to make sure I was getting the names of the authors correct

andddd idk if i actually have 9 people to tag but i'll do my best.

No pressure tags: @forthehonorofgrey @chocolatemilk25 @for-forever21 @lochjhessmonster @lola-andheruniverse @justpalsbeingals @marimacha-tonto @mari-the-alien and anyone else who wants to! (just pretend i tagged you lol)

[thegratefulsouth]

From the woman who gives us all the recs, @lola-andheruniverse I have to recommend 50 days and Countdown, which I've just consumed with a little straw because they are so decadent with longing and intricate detail. I have left very spoilery reviews. Set after the finale, so perfect timing for a read with TBOC so increasingly imminent!

50 Days on Nine Lives

Countdown on Nine Lives

Thank you Lola for all your recs, and your writing, you do a wonderful job 💖

[alatariel-gildaen]

TV show tag game

Rules: post 10 gifs of favourite TV shows without naming them, and tag 10 blogs

I was tagged by @norbertsmom, thanks love!

In no particular order...

@owl-by-night @celtic-crossbow @lola-andheruniverse @distractionsfromthefood @obsessivedaydreamer @eponine119 and anyone who wants to play too :)

[emeryhiro]

I over analysed Codrons promo vid

I'm back with another analysis. A special thank you to @lola-andheruniverse and @mcbride for your words of encouragement. Hope you guys like it ♡

This will be my take on the meaning behind this promotional video for Codron and what it tells us about him.

Firstly, for context, below is the painting shown at the beginning of his promo video.

I'm sure most of us recognise the painting as being of Napoleon Bonaparte. Named Napoleon Crossing the Alps (1801) by Jacques-Louis David.

Unlike the Caryl/Daryl paintings [analysis here], this one portrays a man who existed in more recent times and whom we know much about.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

What does this painting tell us:

On the surface, this painting is a picture of Napolean's confidence and self-assurance, as he's seen about to cross the Alps on horseback, which was a very difficult act, with an army around him and an incoming storm in the background. Still, there's not a hint of discouragement or fear on Nepolean's face.

However, in reality, this painting is a lie. Napoleon was not a confident rider, he actually crossed the Alps on a mule, on a day with completely fine weather, and his troops had already gone ahead several days before him.

This painting was commissioned as propaganda and purely an act of diplomacy by Napoleon. But yet, even after knowing all of this, we can't deny the charm and charisma it radiates.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

What does this painting tell us about Codron's past and personality:

So by aligning Codron with this painting and Napoleon himself, these are the traits that stood out to me:

He grew up in poverty and disliked corrupt leadership and noble society:

This is seen in Codron's dislike of Genet and his determination to stand up to her at the end of season one when he is asked to do something against his beliefs.

He had a soft spot for children and those less able:

This was shown through his unwillingness to hurt Laurent and his extreme measures to kill all those soldiers to protect him, with no concern for the reproductions awaiting him after his return to Genet.

He feared being perceived as weak and could not back away from a fight:

Codron returning to Genet even after directly acting against her commands was an amazing show of his bravery and resolve to stand up to what he believed to be right, especially in his unwillingness to give up the Nest's location despite knowing that he would be punished and possibly killed for it.

He was thin-skinned and often prone to boasting:

This is shown through his extreme reaction of allowing his men to kill the Nuns when they refused to obey him, as well as his calls to Daryl when he was in the fighting pit, saying, "Dixon! Today, you die! For my brother!"

He felt a need to always put on a show of strength and self-assurance:

I think his violent outbursts result from this and that he never truly wants to hurt others but sees it as the only way to keep instating his authority and strength.

He was incredibly intelligent, a very good judge of character and could see the strengths and weaknesses of those he faced:

I saw this paralleled with how he spared Daryl in the season finale. We already saw that he was unwilling to kill Laurent, Isabelle and Silvy because he refused to hurt the innocent, but what stopped him from killing Daryl anyway if he truly still believed that he killed his brother. In the final moment, he could see who Daryl really was: A man who willingly risks his own life to save and protect others. A man who would not have killed his brother in cold blood. A man who had no hard feelings towards him even after he tried to have him killed in the fighting pit.

What all these things point back to is his internal struggles with a lot of fears and insecurities. Some relate back to the conditions of his upbringing, and others to the pressures he faced when he was given positions of power.

Even after coming to power, he never stopped viewing himself as a soldier and felt his only worth to his people was through bringing them victory in battle.

Ultimately, his demise was due to his insecurities and low self-esteem rather than his capabilities, however, all of the things that are perceived as his weaknesses can also be seen as his strengths, which is where we last see Codron in the season 1 finale, making his stand in front of Genet and not showing fear.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

What does this tell us about Condron's future:

There's unfortunately not much to say about Napoleon after he fell from power; he was exiled, fell ill, was often found in a sullen mood, and never really returned to power again.

However, I hope/suspect where the show will take Codron in season 2 instead is where Napoleon always dreamed he'd get to, and who always hoped he'd become, on a hero's journey of redemption, with true newfound confidence and courage.

Codron saying, "Not today, Dixon. Next time." is a promise that they will meet again and shows that he could not make the choice to kill Daryl at that moment; he is too torn between the grief he feels from the loss of his brother and his instincts, telling him who Daryl really is.

Romain's brilliant acting conveyed Cordon's struggles so well, and I'm so excited to see how their next meeting will go down. I can totally see a great level of respect growing between the two of them as they start to see some of themselves in each other.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

I'm sorry this ended up being longer than intended; the art history nerd in me was too excited to write about this because it finally allowed me to use some of the things I learned from the Napoleon, Art & Power tour I went on at the Louvre earlier this year😅

I also had a lot less to go on compared to the Carol and Daryl analysis because, unlike them, we haven't been watching Cadron for over a decade, and our source material is very limited for now. Still, I've given it my best shot, and I hope it was an enjoyable read that made at least a little sense.

Thank you for reading! ♡ I would love to hear what you guys think about Codron and if you agree/disagree with me on where season 2 will take him.

[Carol and Daryl promo vid analysis]

[timetravellerscat]

Post 9 of your favorite characters and let people guess your type.

Thank you so much @lola-andheruniverse for tagging me. It has been a while since I have done these tagging games. I missed them actually.

1. Clara Oswald / Doctor Who

2. River Song / Doctor Who

3. Dolores Abernathy / Westworld

4. Pargalı İbrahim / Magnificant Century

5. Hermione Granger / Harry Potter

6. Alice / Alice in Wonderland

7. Morty / Rick and Morty

8. Kara-Starbuck / Battlestar Galactica

9. Peter Parker (Tobey’s version) / Spider-man

I am tagging @tounknowndestinations @personinthepalace @newborn-phoenix

[alatariel-gildaen]

Thank you @owl-by-night and similarly, right back at ya!

I have dumb brain, so I know I'll be forgetting some of you (and huge apologies in advance!) but whenever I see @lola-andheruniverse @thegratefulsouth @eponine119 and @distractionsfromthefood you guys always make me happy :)

positivity train!

if you see this or are tagged in it, tag a couple of your favorite mutuals/blogs and let them know you appreciate seeing them on your dash!

@h0neysugarfree @blueberrylovv @bequiteanddriveeeeeee @cherri-bomb-bomb @eg0mechan1c @fatrexicisback

[carylerxsecretsanta]

Christmas Reminisce

Written For: @lola-andheruniverse

Title:  Christmas Reminisce Author: @theresnosafeharbor4myships Rating: G Summary: Daryl and Carol spend a quiet night in France missing and reminiscing  A/N: Happy holidays, @lola-andheruniverse!! I hope you've found some joy, moments of peace, and pockets of rest this season. Merry Christmas, and I hope you enjoy this quiet fic with your requested moment of tenderness. :D 

Daryl bolted upright, heaving breaths through his nose as his dream world slipped away. He turned immediately to his left, but the spot beside him was empty.

“You okay?”

On his right, Carol stood at the window, the blue-white moonlight filtering in, lighting up her face just enough for him to see the concern written on it. She'd wrapped her too-large, calf-length sweater around her, her arms crossed to help ward off the cold seeping into the monastery walls.

“Mmm,” he hummed noncommittally, throwing the covers away from his legs, grateful to leave the nightmare that haunted him behind.

The chilly air immediately stole the warmth of the bed from him as he moved to stand behind her, and he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her back into his chest. They stood in silence for a few minutes, slightly swaying to a slow rhythm and staring out at the frigid night, the frosted ground, the icy waters.

He'd never intended to stay in France, but he was grateful it'd turned out the way it had or he'd be fighting off the winter elements in parts unknown, and Carol...well, she wouldn't be in his arms right now, he knew that much.

On a good day in the Before, he never could've imagined visiting France. And while it wasn't home and it'd been a treacherous journey through the country, being here in a once-famous monastery was something he and Carol would forever share: the two of them—having separately traversed an ocean—found each other and ended up here. Together.

“Wanna tell me about your dream?” Her voice came softly, quietly, and without demand.

He dropped a kiss into her hair just above her ear. “Some other time.” Another kiss. “Same thing got you up?”

Silence for a few beats, then she murmured a 'no' on a sigh. “Just thinking about home. Hoping Jude and RJ aren't giving Aaron and Gabriel too much trouble.”

He waited for her to continue, and when she didn't, he asked, “Sure that's all?”

He saw her quirk one side of her mouth up in the window's reflection. “Remember our Christmas at the prison?”

He nodded. “Yeah,” he answered, an unusual sense of nostalgia washing over him. He didn't often let himself think about what had been—either the good or the bad. Both hurt too much, and he had enough on his plate on any given day without the added weight of memories. But for a few moments, holding Carol and remembering together, he let himself reminisce. The tree Carl roped Glenn into cutting down. The ornaments the kids made to decorate it. The songs the others had sung in hushed tones that echoed throughout their cell block. The smiles and laughter that accompanied them more on that one day they'd chosen to celebrate as Christmas than any day that'd come before for their group. How he'd felt like an actual part of that group of people.

“We barely had anything to make it an actual Christmas celebration, but it worked somehow.” Carol paused, and he wondered how she remembered it, which moments had solidified in her mind. “Those ugly ornaments the kids made,” she chuckled. “That bitter chocolate Hershel found in the warden's desk drawer that we made into hot choco-yuck.”

Daryl huffed a laugh, remembering Carl's name for the silt water they'd all pretended was cocoa.

Carol didn't continue, and he waited, the cold seeping through his pajamas along his back a sharp contrast to the warmth he felt with her against his chest.

“I wonder what the kids are doing this year.”

He felt more than heard the heartache in her words and wished, like she did, that they slept at home, with the kids and the rest of their family nearby.

The Nest leaders had been promising the kids in the commune a Christmas celebration, albeit a simple one, for the past week. Daryl had ignored the hype, much like he'd done with Christmases in the Before, but he'd noticed Carol's contemplative nature earlier at dinner. He'd sat next to her, deftly fending off the few attempts at conversation others threw their way. He hadn't asked her what was on her mind as they'd readied for bed, instead waiting for her to reveal what bothered her. It didn't surprise him it had to do with the kids. He missed them too.

“Hey,” he said softly, unwrapping his arms from around her and gently turning her to face him. “We're gonna see 'em again.” He cupped one hand along the side of her neck, just below her ear, his thumb running back and forth along her jawline. “Soon as the snow melts and it's safe to sail again, we're goin'.”

She peered up at him, her eyes full of trust and tears. “I know. Just feels like forever away right now. We've been gone so long...”

“Sorry I got caught up in stuff I shouldn't have. I didn't mean—”

She raised a finger to his lips. “I'm not sorry I came looking for you. And certainly not sorry I'm here.”

He nodded, believing her even as guilt sat heavy in his gut.

With a hand to the back of his neck, Carol drew his face toward her until his forehead touched hers. He closed his eyes for a minute, listening to her breathe, feeling her fingers ruffle through his hair at the nape of his neck.

“I'm so glad I found you.”

Daryl felt the breath of her words against his face and tangle in his heart. “Glad you came lookin'.”

She eased away from him a few seconds later to look into his eyes. “It's a miracle we didn't miss each other.”

“Oh, I missed you plenty,” he stated, feathering her hair away from her forehead with one hand. A smile lit up her face. “More'an you know. Never shoulda left you.”

“Now's your chance to never do it again,” she teased.

“Yes, ma'am.”

Carol shivered, and Daryl rubbed his hands up and down her arms to lend her warmth. “Head back to bed?” he asked, head nodding towards the large bed with layers of blankets on it.

She took a final glace out the window at the cold night and nodded. “Yeah.”

She waited for him to settle into the mattress before sliding under the covers and pressing her back against his chest. He draped his arm loosely around her waist as she tucked the edges of the blankets around her body, sealing the frigid air out and cocooning them in warmth.

“G'night.”

“'Night.” Daryl dropped another kiss into her hair and closed his eyes contentedly, the best Christmas present he could ever wish for wrapped in his arms.

[nonbinary-alien25]

Post 9 of your favorite characters and let people guess your type.

thanks for the tag @lola-andheruniverse !!! these things are so fun :)

(also yes i am cheating just a lil bit since i made some of these duos lmao. i couldn't help myself. i have too many favorite characters and even then i still couldn't get them all lmfao)

these aren't necessarily in a particular order of most favorite or anything, just how i'm listing them lol

1. Sara Lance + Ava Sharpe ~ DC's Legends of Tomorrow

2. Carol Peletier + Daryl Dixon ~ The Walking Dead

3. Kensi Blye + Marty Deeks ~ NCIS: LA

4. Kara Zor-El/Danvers and Alex Danvers ~ Supergirl

5. Leonardo ~ Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2003)

6. Charlie (Clotho) ~ DC's Legends of Tomorrow

7. Paul Stamets ~ Star Trek: Discovery

8. Adira Tal ~ Star Trek: Discovery

9. Nia Nal ~ Supergirl

it took me. way way longer than I'd ever care to admit both to narrow down my list to just 9 (even after cheating a bit with the duos lmao) and also to pick out gifs for each one. and i have so many other characters that i couldn't fit on this list lmao. so. good luck i guess.

no pressure tags: @forthehonorofgrey @chocolatemilk25 @for-forever21 @yourlocalegotisticalqueerishere @rockford-peaches and anyone else who sees this and wants to do it :)

[alatariel-gildaen]

Post 9 of your favourite characters and let people guess your type.

I was tagged by @norbertsmom - thanks lovely!

Here we go...

1. Carol Peletier - The Walking Dead

2. Daryl Dixon - The Walking Dead

3. Dr Mrs the Monarch - Venture Bros

4. Jonathan Strange - Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell

5. Eddie Munson - Stranger Things

6. James "Sawyer" Ford - Lost

7. Handsome Jack - Borderlands

8. Leia Organa- Star Wars

9. Faramir - Lord of the Rings

I mean - it's pretty apparent to me what both my male and female types are from this, but we'll see what everyone says 😅

I'm tagging @finneganhart @epiphytecanopy @obsessivedaydreamer @omgwowhahah @lola-andheruniverse @owl-by-night @twolargepepperoni-and-a-calzone and honestly anyone else who wants to play

[catelyngrant]

Thanks for a great rec list, @lola-andheruniverse, and for including me on this! I have a soft spot for see the world hanging upside down (it was one of those rare concepts that spring into being fully-formed) and appreciate the shout out.

I've so appreciated the recs you've been posting! It's been really fun to dig into some new (and old, but new to me) fics to keep me going while we wait for The Book of Carol. If you ever have the time/energy/inclination, I'd love for any recommendations you have that focus on Carol telling/Daryl finding out about what happened with Lizzie - that's something I'm still so mad we never saw on the show, and I've found some great fics but you (and your followers) have a gift for unearthing treasures!

ANON! You sent me this ask on January 1st but some error on Tumblr didn't make it visible until now! I hope you're still there to enjoy this small selection of fics despite the six month delay. While there's life, there's hope so fingers crossed that Carol finally tells Daryl about The Grove in TBOC. Caryl on! 🥰

Every Bit by Wanderings/ @deannawoso [ 9Lives ] Summary: Carol finally breaks down and tells Daryl what happened at the grove. Rating: T Word Count: 2.330 (02 chapters) Published: November 19, 2014 (incomplete, but with a satisfying resolution).

Genesis by @silversundown2 [ 9Lives ] Summary: A new beginning grows in the ruins of a burnt city. Set in the episode “Consumed”. Rating: T Word Count: 1.706 Published: June 25, 2016 (one-shot)

Home by sweettooth7 [ 9Lives ] Summary: Since the moment Tyreese died she'd been carrying it all alone. Here's my version of Carol telling Daryl about what happened at the grove. Rating: T Word Count: 2.996 Published: October 04, 2015 (one-shot)

In Your Eyes by @equuleus86 [ 9Lives ] Summary: My take on a conversation we all want to see taking place. Carol relives the events of The Grove. Rating: G Word Count: 2.680 Published: November 05, 2017 (one-shot)

see the world hanging upside down by averita/ @catelyngrant [ 9Lives | AO3 ] Summary: "What would you do," she says, so quietly it could be the wind, "if I snapped?" Post 10x13, Daryl and Carol talk. Rating: T Word Count: 3.711 Published: March 27, 2020 (one-shot) Oh, and there's also Starting Over by @gunmetal-ring, which I already recommended here.

[emeryhiro]

Post 9 of your favourite characters and let people guess your type.

I was tagged by the lovely @lola-andheruniverse. This is exciting I don't think I've ever done one like.

And I may have cheated with number 1 because they're literally one to me.

1. Daryl Dixon & Carol Peletier - The Walking Dead

2. Ellie Williams - The Last of Us 1 & 2

3. Joel Miller - The Last of Us 1 & 2

4. 11th Doctor - Doctor Who

5. River Song - Doctor who

6. Loki Laufeyson - Marvel

7. Levi Ackerman - Attack on Titan

8. Peter Parker/Spider-Man - The Amazing Spiderman

9. Arthur Morgan - Red Dead Redemption 2

This was a lot harder than I thought it would be, but I think I'm definitely seeing a trend 😅

I'm tagging @haircoveredwriter @freefromthecocoon @murdadixon @carylisbeautiful @ourkidswouldbemartians @carylfeels @kazesauce @weepingwillowwhines

[carylerxsecretsanta]

CARYLER SECRET SANTA (2024)

Tumblr: @roryelijah02 Favorite Caryl Episode: This is a tough question because season 10 is my favourite season of TWD because I love all the Caryl episodes in it. I think I'd have to say Ghosts and Squeeze because I cannot choose between them. My reasoning is because of the way Daryl is with Carol in both of these episodes, I love the way he comforts her and is there for her so much. Favorite Caryl Moment: This is a still tough but I think I can narrow this down to one. I absolutely love the moment in Squeeze when Carol is struggling so much with her claustrophobia and thinks she can't make it out of the cave and then there's Daryl as her literal light at the end of her tunnel. The way he comforts her throughout this episode is just so precious to me, I love it so much. What is your desired present (fanfic, drabble sets, graphics, icons, etc.): I'd love either a fanfic or an edit. What is your desired present (fanfic, drabble sets, graphics, icons, etc.): I'd love either a fanfic or an edit.

/–/

Tumblr: @carylscherokeeroses Favorite Caryl Episode: S10 EP1 Favorite Caryl Moment: When they ride his bike together in S10 before they arrive at the cabin. What is your desired present (fanfic, drabble sets, graphics, icons, etc.): Fanfic.

/–/

Tumblr: @the-aviatrix Favorite Caryl Episode: I’m super new to TWD, but I love the new spinoff S2E4 with their reunion :))) Favorite Caryl Moment: Probably the hug in No Sanctuary (S5E1), but I’m still currently watching the series. What is your desired present (fanfic, drabble sets, graphics, icons, etc.): fanart or fic, surprise me

/–/

Tumblr: @lola-andheruniverse Favorite Caryl Episode: Consumed. Favorite Caryl Moment: The ‘I see you’ from S9E16 will always be my favorite caryl scene, but their convo on the french rooftop (TBOC E5) about bad luck comes in second. What is your desired present (fanfic, drabble sets, graphics, icons, etc.): I’ll be happy with anything, but everyone knows how I love fanfiction so a fic would be incredible.

/–/

Tumblr: @breb23 Favorite Caryl Episode: honestly anything in seasons 3,4,5, and 10! Or the spinoff! Favorite Caryl Moment: SO MANY TO CHOOSE FROM OMG I love angst tbh so any hurt comfort moment in the show or honestly if you make up a hurt/comfort/cozy Christmas moment I'll eat that up too hehehehe What is your desired present (fanfic, drabble sets, graphics, icons, etc.): fanfic and drabbles! 😍

/–/

Tumblr: @lovesdaryl Favorite Caryl Episode: New Best Friends Favorite Caryl Moment: Daryl burning the two walkers in the Atlanta refuge for DV survivors and Carol watching from inside the shelter What is your desired present (fanfic, drabble sets, graphics, icons, etc.): I would like to leave this decision to my Santa based on what they prefer

/–/

Tumblr: @madwomanlexie Favorite Caryl Episode: No Sanctuary Favorite Caryl Moment: As always, this is hard for me to decide. Anything protective Daryl related is a huge fave! What is your desired present (fanfic, drabble sets, graphics, icons, etc.): Anything!!!

/–/

Tumblr: @theresnosafeharbor4myships Favorite Caryl Episode: Consumed, Lines We Cross (flirty Caryl) Favorite Caryl Moment: Caryl reunion hugs, the entirety of Consumed, prison-era Caryl, Daryl’s “I love you” at the end of flagship series, but really anytime they’re in proximity <3  What is your desired present (fanfic, drabble sets, graphics, icons, etc.): I prefer a fic, but I’ll take anything!

/–/

Tumblr: @tigereyes45 Favorite Caryl Episode: I still don’t have just 1 favorite episode of these two (and I still have too many favorite moments haha.) Favorite Caryl Moment: There’s so many! The hug in the woods after Carol blows up the cannibals, the “You tell me.” scene where Daryl really drives home that he will always be there for her and she needs to rely on him! The prison scene where he’s mourning Carol but then finds her will live forever in my brain. The hug when they reunite in the Daryl Dixon show. She’s always so unsure if people will want her around, and there goes Daryl barreling at her for a hug or to hold her every time they find each other again. Gosh I love them! What is your desired present (fanfic, drabble sets, graphics, icons, etc.): I’m good with any kind of gift.

/–/

[timetravellerscat]

Thank you so much @tounknowndestinations for tagging me. It was so fun

I am tagging @lola-andheruniverse @personinthepalace @newborn-phoenix

Deify your self 💫 tag game

Thxxx @bebewrites for sharing this!!

rules: using this piccrew by @malachitinous , create yourself as you’d look as a god/goddess/deity; feel free to either make this a chain or do your own post from scratch!

If you see this, consider yourself tagged 🤍✨

No pressure tagging: @tenderheartgrumpymind @rrcenic @snowdevilsadvocate @dopenightmaretyphoon @v3nusxsky @weemssapphic @dianneking @daydream-cement @suckerforcate @hxzxrdous

[carylerxsecretsanta]

Written For: @theresnosafeharbor4myships

Title: blushing Author: @lola-andheruniverse Rating: T/ Teen and Up Audiences Summary: “Between running for their lives, scavenging non-stop for food, sleeping with one eye open and trying to not to freeze to death, making Daryl blush becomes a welcome distraction to push Carol throughout the winter.” A/N: Dear Michelle, I tried (emphasis on tried) to give you some flirty early Caryl goodness since that’s what you like. It’s set between the S2/S3 interlude and the Governor’s attack on S3. A very short fic, almost a slice-of-life, but I really hope it puts a smile on your face this Christmas. Happy holidays and a beautiful and kind 2025 for you.

                                                             X

It starts small and without purpose, as all seemingly unimportant things usually do.

They both needed a break from the claustrophobic storage units Rick decided should be their home for the foreseeable future because Lori kept getting sick on the road. Daryl wanted to try one more time to hunt something big to fill their stomachs, muttering that there must be some deer out there that those damned walkers hadn’t chewed up yet. Carol wanted to harvest some greens to, at worst, guarantee some kind of soup to warm them up for the night, and at best, serve as a side dish for whatever game he managed to catch. So they leave at dawn, while most of the group are still sleeping bundled together; T-Dog guarding them, chain-smoking at the rooftop.

The early morning air is crisp and invigorating in her lungs. Even though winter is fast approaching, the woods are still vibrant with all the fall colors that the slow rising sun reveals to them. They remind her of Sophia, but today it doesn’t make her heart hurt. Not really. Carol cannot feel or see any sound, smell, or trail that would indicate the proximity of any horde, and the fact that Daryl is walking relaxed beside her rather than in front of her makes her feel confident that her assessment is correct. It’s not the first time she joins him on a hunt. Or to walk the perimeter. Find water or wood to make a fire. After the farm fell, they tended to navigate towards each other. Together, on the outskirts of everything else.

“You seem quite chill today.” She says quietly, crouching down to bag some wild kale.

“Uhm, jus’ like mornings like this. Fresh. Clean.” He takes a deep breath while scanning their surroundings. “Way better than those stinking metal coffins we sleeping in. If Carl keeps taking his nasty shoes off to sleep, I’ll have to cut his feet off.”

Carol snorts. “Be nice. We need to find him some bigger shoes. It’s not Carl’s fault he’s growing and going through hormonal changes. Teenagers smell, Daryl.”

“Not my nose’s fault neither.” He grunts, extending a hand to help her get up.

“Well, you’re really hot, you know?” Carol says, arranging her shoulder bag to make room. “You could always try sleeping outside, at least as long as the temperature isn’t too low.”

When Daryl doesn’t answer, she looks up. His whole face is flushed red and he’s staring at her with a completely new, baffled expression. It takes a beat for Carol to understand what it means.

“Hum…We’re missing daylight.” He murmurs and instantly walks away, almost tripping on an exposed tree root.

Embarrassed.

And it’s such a foreign notion that Daryl Dixon could get so flustered over a poorly phrased sentence like that, that Carol can’t help but file the knowledge away for the near future, while chuckling softly to herself.

                                                             X

Between running for their lives, scavenging non-stop for food, sleeping with one eye open and trying to not to freeze to death, making Daryl blush becomes a welcome distraction to push Carol throughout the winter. She throws silly (but smart) innuendos at him whenever they are alone, sharing some chores or just keeping each other company while avoiding the rest of the group. It takes some of the weight off both of their shoulders, as she finds that Daryl does get flustered easily, but doesn’t really seem to mind her dirty sense of humor. Or her fondness for making him squirm.

Uh, are you glad to see me? She asks every single time she catches Daryl cleaning a gun, with a perfect Mae West impersonation, that paints the tip of his pointy ears bright red. Not really. He always says back, snorting or squinting his eyes in her direction, depending on his mood, but never sending her away or ignoring her presence.

Any compliment Daryl gives her cooking is met with fluttering eyelashes and bright smiles that put a healthy flush on his cheeks. And Carol calls him a dirty, dirty man when Daryl comes back from the woods with so much blood or mud on his clothes that they need to be washed. The more languid her voice, the redder his face becomes.

It is funny and sweet and she can’t get enough of it.

                                                                X

“That’s a big cock.”

Carol happily observes when Daryl comes back from a hunt with three dead chickens and a giant rooster. It’s a Christmas miracle, the last good meal they have before the group is forced to leave the storage units behind because it got too cold to live on bare concrete and metal.

“You’s seriously unhinged, woman, you know that?” Daryl manages to answer back, not before almost choking on his own spit.

No one understands why she keeps laughing throughout the meal, nor why Daryl’s face is as red as a ripe tomato the entire evening.

                                                                X

“It’s pretty romantic. Screw around?”

Daryl double checks before snorting and Carol laughs, feeling as happy as she can get after they conquered the field around the prison that afternoon. A permanent home after so many months on the road.

“I’ll go down first.” Daryl mumbles, a light but very present blush on his cheeks.

“Even better.” She can’t resist. It’s like he’s asking for it.

“Stop.”

                                                                X

“What yah doin’ up?” Daryl asks as he takes the large plastic box she’s carrying from her hands, only to find that it’s empty aside from a blanket. “You should be restin’, woman. You just came back from the dead a few hours ago!”

“Yes, I did, thanks to you.” She answers, resting a hand on one of his upper arms. “I’m feeling fine, Daryl. See, I got cleaned up and all. Back to the living side.”

“Yah sure?” He insists, checking her from head to toe.

“Yes, I am. Look at you, all sweet and worried about me.” Carol teases, fluttering her eyelashes.

“Stahp.” Daryl squints, not without humor in his voice, and she laughs, taking the box from him “What this for, anyway?”

“For the baby. She needs something safe to be put on. She can’t be held all the time. This can work as a crib while we don’t find one.”

“Lil’ ass kicker.” He informs her, matter-of-factly.

“What?”

“Lil’ ass kicker. That’s how I’m callin’ baby girl while Rick and the kid don’t choose a name for her.”

“Of course you are.” Carol feels her heart swell a little bit with affection for the man in front of her. “When are you all leaving to get Maggie and Glenn?”

“Any minute now.”

“Okay. Let me put this on my cell. I’ll see you out.”

Carol doesn’t notice the rubor that takes over Daryl’s face as he watches her walk away.

                                                               X

“He is your brother, but he is not good for you. Don’t let him bring you down.” Carol tells him, like she sees it, because she has to. “After all, look at how far you’ve come.”

Daryl looks all around the cell and back to her, jokingly taking her point as the literal place they come to. She just smiles and shares the small laugh that it’s only theirs, content to be reunited with him, even with everything else changing around them.

                                                             X

“So, what exactly happened out there?” Carol inquires after he joins her in the courtyard. She is sitting on top of one of the tables, rifle resting on her thighs, eyes on the horizon as the sun sets. He mimics her pose with his crossbow.

“Rick and that eye-patched prick talked alone. Me and Hershel stayed out with his men. Had a smoke, talked some shit. Don’t think no one on that side wants no war either, but they have a murderous asshole as their leader. They’ll do as they are told.”

“As we will on our side, you mean?” She asks just for the sake of it.

“Yeah…yeah, ’s we will.” He agrees, sounding defeated.

“War it is.”

They sigh, somewhat synchronized, reluctantly sharing the same loyalty towards their group. Their family. Daryl rests his hand on her shoulder, so very lightly, and Carol turns to look at him.

“No matter what happens, though’, I’ve got your back.” He tells her in a soft but firm voice, looking straight into her eyes.

The air entering her lungs feels too thick to breathe. “I know you do.” She blinks twice and swallows, before putting a cheeky expression on her face and whispering. “You’re my knight in shining leather.”

“Ugh, stop!” Daryl complains, taking the hand off her shoulder and facepalming to hide his blush. “Why are you like this?!”

Carol giggles in response. She rests her head on his shoulder to keep him from escaping, eyes trained on the increasingly dark sky.

“You’re just too easy, that’s why. I can’t help myself.” She says a few moments later, after giving him time to calm a little bit.

“So you saying you have no self control, that’s it?” Daryl retorts.

“That’s pretty much it.” She admits, not feeling a little bit ashamed of herself.

“Yah know? One day, I’ll make you regret all this shit.” He says, as seriously as he can, while tentatively putting his arm around her shoulders.

“Oh, and what do you mean by that?” Carol snuggles, testing her luck.

“What I mean is that I will get you when your ass is distracted and you will be the one that gets all hot and red in the face.”

Daryl’s eyes are also trained at the sky, like he is pretending not to acknowledge the half embrace his own arm initiated. By the corner of her eyes, Carol can see that he’s still blushing hard and can’t help to feel the same kind of heat spreading through her own face.

She wishes her own blushing away and responds in a small voice, grateful that he won’t be looking at her face anytime soon. “That doesn’t sound as frightening as you think it does. Quite the opposite.”

“Ugh, just shut up.” Daryl says, squeezing her tighter so she adjusts her body to rest more comfortably next to him. “Impossible woman.”

They stay like that long enough for Carol to formulate three different sexual innuendos that could be used in a life-or-death situation, should they find themselves in one when the Governor comes for them. And for his scent to rub off and linger on her clothes, which would guarantee nighttime blushes, unbeknownst to Daryl.

[carylerxsecretsanta]

50 Days

Written For:@peletiersdixon

Title: 50 days Author: @lola-andheruniverse Rating: T/ Teen and Up Audiences Summary: “With shivering fingers, she grabs the framed picture from her bookcase and looks at it. Looks at him. Really looks at him. There it is. The same look she sees everyday when they walk with Dog. The same look he had when he said he loved her, fifty days ago. A look he’s being giving her for years now. Maybe since the beginning of them.

You do love me...don’t you?” A/N: This is the first time I’ve written a fanfic in over 15 years, and the first time ever writing for caryl. I hope I made them justice. English is not my first language. I struggle with commas and I like my ‘and’s. There’s no beta work here besides my grammar check app so I apologize for any mistakes/typos. Kudos to anyone who can find my little references to Doctor Who.

Dear Liddy, I used your favorite scene as base for this story + a little speculation on my part for TWD:DD and The Book of Carol. Fingers crossed that you enjoy it. I wish you a Merry Christmas and a 2024 full of beauty, light and fun.

____________________________

“I love you.”

He says it like it is the most profound thing to say. Like it’s an old secret or a promise long kept. He says while looking at her like she’s someone endearing to look at. And she doesn’t understand why. Of course he loves her. She knows he does. She’s his best friend! Silly man.

Why are you saying this to me now?

She giggles just a little. Shrugs and fights the need not to nod condescendingly because this is clearly important to him. And she knows better than anyone that he doesn't say anything he doesn't fully intend to say.

“I love you too.”

She says it back because apparently he needs to hear it. Because it's the umpteenth time they'll be apart and it's good to say goodbye without leaving anything unsaid for once. Because it’s true.

Don’t you know it already?

He smiles that little smile that she secretly adores. Caresses her face with his hand and hugs her. Cradles her head and she breathes that unique combination that’s him – pine, grease, leather, sweat, tobacco, petrichor – and everything should be perfect for one small moment, but it isn’t. Because she can feel through her shoulder that he’s chewing on his lower lip and through her chest that his breathing is heavy. Sometimes a hug is just a way to hide your face.

What? What is it? What is wrong?

But there’s no time for her to understand because their hug is over too soon and he’s smiling again but it doesn’t reach his eyes. She sighs and looks at the vast blue sky to not see him getting on the bike. It really is a beautiful day to hit the road. He watches her intently for a beat.

What, Daryl?

She keeps smiling because she doesn’t know what else to do. What else to say. She needs him to go because all of this fucking hurts and she doesn’t deal well with hurt. She’s keeping together because he deserves to leave while she has a smile on her face. He deserves to see that she’s fine. Just a little sad, as she told him. He probably needs to see that she’s fine. Or else he won’t go.

I don’t want you to go.

He said it’s not like they’re not going to see each other again. So she focuses on that and keeps smiling. This is not the time or place to think about what she wants. He can go. He’ll be back someday and she’ll be here. That’s fine. She’s fine. He can go.

And so he does.

She watches him grow smaller and smaller on the horizon, feeling like a kid that got a puzzle for Christmas with a missing piece.

____________________________

She doesn’t deal well with hurt, but she’s damn good at compartmentalizing, so that’s what she does. She keeps going, trying her best not to count the days since he left.

03 days.

It’s not like things are completely different from when he was there. Her daily routine is basically the same. She wakes up at 5am and takes Dog for a walk. When he’s home they do it together, enjoying the sunrise and the last hour of quietness before the town wakes up. It’s the only time they have to be alone and talk. Sometimes they reminisce about previous homes and lost family members, or about what the future holds for the kids and for Lydia. Sometimes they just coordinate what their day will be like because Judith needs a new pair of shoes and they’re out of butter. She realizes, with a bit of surprise, that they've probably talked to each other more this past year than in all the years they've known each other. Most of it they just watch Dog running around enjoying each other’s company. There’s a distinct void by her side where he should be, but she does her best and ignores it. He’ll come back eventually. She’s fine.

05 days.

She cooks breakfast for the kids and makes sure RJ has everything he’ll need for school. The boy has a special talent for putting his things away and instantly forgetting about them. She thinks he got it from Rick. God bless him.

09 days.

The CW and all of its sister communities are home to a few thousand people and the paperwork to keep track of everyone and everything that happens everywhere is endless. Hornsby had many flaws, but sloppy wasn’t one of them. The man registered every single thing he knew and even a year later she’s still working her way through his notes and digging out shady information. It suits her fine. She’s very good at her job. Before, she could finish things up by 7pm and be home for dinner time. Now she needs to leave at four, so she can pick the kids up from school and take care of them. That’s not a problem. No better hour than 3am in the morning to read a 65-page report on poppy harvesting.

14 days.

She dreams that night that he’s hugging her and it’s so vivid she can feel him around her hours later. It makes it especially hard to focus on her meeting with Mercer and Ezekiel that afternoon. The CW Autumn Festival is a week away and Mercer is trying to convince the eternally enthusiastic Ezekiel that there's no need to add more activities than what's already planned. It’s a lot easier to work with him now that he’s an elected representative of the people, but sometimes the King in him tries to get out. When the meeting is finally over, he tells her every festival reminds him of Henry. There's nostalgic joy in his voice and an easy smile on his face. He’s done grieving. She excuses herself and goes to the roof. She lights up a cigarette but resists the urge to inhale. She just needs to smell the tobacco in the air for a few minutes. Her heart aches with longing and she pretends it’s only for Henry. She’s fine.

21 fucking days.

On the day of the festival, they have a great parade to celebrate all the special residents of the CW. Jude walks in front of the swordsman section with her katana with so much grace that Michonne would swell with pride. Lori would too. That’s why she’s there. That’s why she stayed. To take care of little ass kicker for them. For him too.

22 days.

It’s almost midnight and she’s sitting on the porch, stargazing, a cup of lukewarm coffee in her right hand. Today was a good day. Lydia came home for the festival and is staying a whole week this time. The girl does a wonderful job as a mail woman for the communities. It’s rare to have her stay for more than a couple of days. Her room is always clean and ready for her. She makes sure of this because if anyone deserves a welcoming home, it's Lydia.

“Hey.” She hears her before she sees her because all the lights are off. She revels in the fact that even when the girl speaks softly, there's a distinct lightness to her voice that her teenage self didn't have.

“Hey you. Shouldn’t you be asleep?” On the other hand, her voice sounds motherly, no matter how much she wishes it didn’t. She just can’t help it.

“Oh, I’m on my way. I just wanted to give you this.” She hopes Lydia doesn’t notice how her breath catches for a second or that her hand shakes slightly as she takes the letter from her. The paper is folded twice and one end is stained with water. She can’t read it in the dark, but she can smell it. It smells like him. “I picked it up on the last dropping site up North ten days ago, but he probably left it earlier than that. I'm sorry I didn't give it to you sooner. You were just so busy with the festival.”

“Oh, that’s okay. Thank you for delivering it to me now. But it’s late and you need to rest. You work too much. Do you want to eat anything else before going to bed?” There’s just too much affection in her heart, motherly voice be damned.

“No, no, I’m fine. Good night, Carol...I miss him too.”

She takes her time, pretending her heart isn’t beating anxiously. Drinks the rest of her now cold coffee. Gets inside and leaves the mug on the kitchen sink to wash in the morning. Checks on RJ and Judith to make sure they are sleeping. Instead of going to her own bedroom, she opts to enter his room. Like Lydia’s room, she makes sure to clean it regularly. Dog sleeps in his bed every night and when she sits down next to him, she is greeted with a wagging tail and a sloppy lick on the cheek.

“Hello, hello, you. Calm down. I’m not here to sleep over. Calm down.”

She turns on his lampshade and finally, finally, opens his letter. His voice fills every space in her mind.

Carol,

I’m on the road for 11 days now. On the third day the damn bike broke down and I had to scavenge some parts to fix it. It’s working fine now. No other problems so far – good weather, few walkers, no people. I’m catching small game near the road and I still got most of my rations.

I wonder how many days it will be before you receive this letter. Probably a lot because I’m using the last dropping site on the North border. Sorry to leave you without news for so long. I’ve been thinking about you though. I bet you’re working your ass off even worse now that I’m not there to stop you. Don’t you go and exhaust yourself, okay? Try to sleep more than four fucking hours a night and eat your food, your paperwork ain’t going nowhere.

How are the kids? The parade thing already happened? Tell Jude I'm wishing her luck, but I’m sure she is going to kick ass. What about RJ? He promised me a drawing for every day I'm away so put him to work. The kid is a fucking artist, I swear. Shit, now I’m homesick. Give them a hug from me, please? Lydia too, I suppose she’s home since you got my letter. Tell her I miss her. We don’t see her enough. She works too much just like you.

I’m going to cross the border tomorrow. It may take some time, but I’m going to find some way to communicate with you. I promise. So don’t you worry too much. I’ll be back before you know it. You won't even have time to miss me. I miss you though. Every day I watch the sunrise and think about you (and Dog).

I love you. See you soon.

Daryl

She breathes in. Traces his words with her finger. Breathes out. He wrote that he loved her. They exchanged letters when she was on the boat. He's never done this before. She’s intrigued, to say the least. What led him to say these words?

Why, Daryl? Why?

____________________________

25 days.

She keeps the letter under her pillow and every night, before she goes to sleep, she rereads it, trying to decipher his intentions. She recalls him saying it just before he left, and she knows there’s something she’s missing but she has no idea what it is.

29 days. Why did you say you love me? Why did you write it down?

Jude gets her period for the first time and, while preparing a hot water bottle for the girl, she has to hold back tears and stop thinking about how she never got the chance to do it for Sophia. Hilltop is struggling to harvest enough food to contribute to all sister communities because its soil is still recovering from the fire caused in the war against the Whisperers, and it causes a small political crisis.

33 days. Why, Daryl? It’s not like you meant it that way, so why did you do it?

She talks with Gabriel over the radio. There's some stomach bug going around Alexandria; he's worried they won't be able to control it with the resources they have. She personally arranges for everything they need to be delivered, sends an extra doctor to help, and dreams about killing Karen and David for the rest of the week.

45 days. You can’t mean it. It’s me. I don’t deserve it.

It is time for the bimonthly meeting between the sister communities and Aaron shows up accompanied by none other than Dwight. He comes to present his intent of rebuilding the Sanctuary as a community and to ask for the CW’s help. He talks for hours. All other agendas are postponed as this ghost of their past comes back and tells them stories about cowboys and radioactive walkers, Morgan and Sherry, becoming a father and burying his son. His voice is decided and steady, but his eyes have this subtle glint of someone who’s thinking how the hell they got where they are and when they can leave. She can relate. The day ends, and they need more hours to come to any decision, so everyone agrees to resume their meeting the next day. Her family always stay the night at their house when they’re in town so she asks them to go ahead while she finishes up the meeting’s minutes. She just needs a moment to sort out her own feelings. 

She’s back at her office, staring blindly at a sheet of paper and there’s a knock on her slightly open door. Dwight’s there, hands in his pocket, a question in his face.

“May I come in?”

So formal. “Yes, of course. Can I help you with something? Did anyone tell you where you can stay the night? Usually it’s Mercer who…”

“Yes, yes, he’s waiting outside. I just need to ask you something.”

“Okay. Sure.”

“You’re Daryl’s, aren’t you?”

She blinks one. Twice. “I’m sorry. Come again?”

“When I went to Alexandria a few days ago, I asked for Daryl. You see, he’s the one who released me. He didn’t forgive me for what I’d done, but he somehow understood my reasons. He told me to go find my wife and never come back. I did what he told me. I found Sherry. I had a son. I fought other wars. I lost my son. I came back.”

“He gave you a second chance.” Of course he did, that was who he was. He was good.

“He did. He really did. And I’ll never be able to repay him for it. You know, for a long time, I didn’t get why he let me go. He should have killed me, I wanted him to. Sherry got it before I did. Right from the start, probably. He told me once, but I wasn’t paying attention. He told me he understood why I joined the Saviors because I did it thinking about someone else. And that’s why he couldn’t do it. That he wouldn’t break for the same reason I did.”

Yes, she knows what Dwight’s talking about. At least, she knows enough. Over the years, he's provided her with enough information to know what they put him through while he was Negan's hostage. She never asked him directly. He told her what he wanted, when he wanted, as he healed. It’s in the past now. He grew up from it. He never broke because he was a man of honor. He loved his family, he would not betray any of them.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’m following. And I need to get back to my family. What is it that you’re trying to say?” 

Dwight looks at her like he’s confused by her confusion.

“Back at Alexandria, Aaron told me that Daryl didn't live there anymore. That he had moved to another community with ‘Carol and the kids’. It made me happy. When my son was born...When Finch was born, I told Sherry that I had Daryl Dixon to thank for it. Regardless of all the things that happened...I’m sorry for all I put him through. For killing Denise. I’ll never be not sorry. Daryl’s a good man. A better man than I’ll ever be. I’m just really happy that he got a second chance in his life too.” 

Oh. Oh. She feels her eyes enlarging while he keeps talking, misunderstanding everything. 

“Aaron told me that he left some weeks ago but nothing more. I would like to talk to him. I need to thank him. So that’s what I wanted to ask you. When does he come back?”

“I’m not Daryl’s.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“You got it wrong. I’m not Daryl’s. We are friends. We take care of Rick’s kids together. That’s it.” Her voice sounds angry and loud even to her own ears and she cringes internally.

Dwight creases his brow and looks directly in the direction where she knows there’s a framed picture of them with all the kids from the last summer festival. It’s a completely chaotic portrait of them. RJ is crying because he spilled juice all over his shirt two seconds before the photograph was taken. She’s trying to soak part of it with a few napkins, full mommy mode on. Jude’s mouth is open, caught in the middle of a phrase, trying to console him. Lydia’s the only one looking at the camera, smiling shyly, with a sorry look on her face. And he? He was looking directly at her, that adorable smile adorning his lips, handing her more napkins. The background is blown out and the image is grainy. It’s perfect. 

“We are not together the way you think we are.” She says quietly, but firmly. “I don’t know when he’s coming back. But when he does, I’ll tell him about you and that you want to talk to him. I’ll tell him to go to the Sanctuary. I can’t promise you that he’ll go, but I can promise that I’ll pass the message.” This man needs to leave. Please, just leave.

He’s still looking at the picture. Slowly, he directs his attention back to her. 

“Why not?”

“Why not what?”

“Why are you not together?”

She’s stunned. What the hell is happening? She had never talked to the man before and here he is asking her something that he hadno business knowing. Why are they not together? Let’s see. They’re not together because he doesn’t love her like that. Because he’s too good of a man for her. Because she’s lucky enough to have him in her life as it is. Because if he loved her he would have said something. 

But you did, didn’t you? You said it and you wrote it down. And I don’t know why, but I know you. And you wouldn’t play with my heart like that. So...Does that mean…?

No, it doesn’t. She’s being ridiculous. She can’t allow herself to think about the possibility. Because she wouldn’t survive if she got her hopes up and he rejected her. Because if anything was going to happen, it would have happened this past year. And, again, because he doesn’t love her like that.

“He doesn’t love me like that”. She only registers that she’s said it aloud after it’s out.

Dwight glances at the picture again. Sighs. “Well, I don’t know why he left and if it has anything to do with you two. But maybe...Look, Daryl told me to go and find Sherry. That’s what he wanted for me. That’s what I want for him too. You should go and find him too.” He nods to her once and leaves, closing the door behind him and leaving her completely thunderstruck.

____________________________

47 days.

Dwight, Aaron and everyone else are finally gone. The Sanctuary is officially part of the CW’s network. In two weeks she’ll travel there with Mercer to assess what they need and what they can do to contribute. How wonderful! She never looked forward to anything so eagerly. She’s fine.

48 days.

The kids are sleeping over with Eugene and Maxxine because they need help with their science fair projects. She misses him like crazy. She cries herself to sleep while hugging his letter.

49 days.

She’s dreading the fifty-day mark so much that she tells Ezekiel she needs a break and spends the entire day hiking in the woods beyond the walls. She stops by a creek around midday and lights a cigarette and it’s like he’s there and she laughs and she cries and she feels like her mind is shattering because she’s thinking absurd thoughts and her heart is beating completely out of rhythm and reaching out to him wherever he is and she can’t pretend anymore that she doesn’t love him with all she has and she has loved him for a long time now.

I love you. I do. I do. I love you.

She thinks about him. How he looks at her when the first rays of light touch her hair during their morning walks with Dog. Them becoming a unit at the prison. And then becoming strangers in Alexandria. Him saying he would never hate her, even when she thought she had ruined his chances of happiness. (How many times he said to her it wasn’t like that with Connie and she refused to listen? God.) The Cherokee Rose and the beer bottle. Hunting together while she was a pretend queen and he was king of the woods. Locking eyes with him across rooms and instantly knowing how he felt about something. Getting her heart wrecked when they fought in the cabin. Kissing his forehead, mindful of his stitches. Being held by him when she lost both her children. Riding the bike to escape death but, mostly, to experience life. Following his light.

And I think...I think you might love me too.

50 days.

She doesn’t understand how she stepped out for one single day and there are six new reports on her desk to read and sign. It’s ridiculous, to say the least. She’ll have to skip dinner to get it done or stay up to 3am again. At least there are leftovers in the fridge.

“Excuse me, miss deputy secretary?” Lucy, Communications intern, is at her office’s doorstep. “You’ve got a call over the radio. The connection is terrible, but apparently it’s mister Dixon.”

Her heart drops all the way through her stomach and she nearly knocks the girl over in her rush to run out of the room toward the communications office, which is two flights of stairs up. She doesn’t even register who’s operating the radio before picking it up.

“Hello! Are you there?”

A beat.

“Hello! Hey! It’s me.”

Oh my god.

Relief rushes through her veins so fast she feels dizzy. “Daryl!” She reminds herself to breath. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I have a radio here. I thought, what the hell? How you doin’?”

I love you.

“Where’s there?”

“I’m in Maine, by the coast. Everything good there?”

No. I realized I love you and I’m completely losing my mind.

“Yeah, you know, pretty quiet here.”

Liar.

“Quiet’s good. You okay?”

He deserves the truth. At least a little bit of it. “Yeah. Just takes some getting used to, that’s all.”

I miss you. Daryl. I miss you.

Another beat. Dammit. She shouldn’t have said anything.

“You sure you’re okay?”

I‘m not. I’m daring to wish for things that I shouldn’t.

She thinks for a second. She doesn’t want him to worry. Worry gets you distracted. Distracted gets you killed. And she needs him to come back.

Come back to me.

“You never have to worry about me, Daryl. How is it out there?”

“I’ll tell you all about it when I see you. I’m just gathering up some fuel. I’ll be there in about a week. I promise.” Shit. He’s worried. Shit! But she can’t find in herself to care too much about it right now because he’s coming back.

You’re coming back?

“Copy that. Hey, Daryl?”

You’re coming back.

“Yeah?”

I love you.

“Dwight came back.” That was not something he needed to know while on the road. She’s overwhelmed and not thinking throughout.

“Who came back? Carol? W…”

The interference sound gets too loud and she can’t hear him anymore. Maybe she got cut on his side too because he didn’t get what she said last. But he heard enough.

“Daryl? Can you hear me? Daryl? Dwight. Dwight came back. Daryl?”

“We lost the signal, miss.” Says the radio operator, shutting it down, before she’s ready to accept that their conversation his over.

She feels her eyes watering and has to rapidly blink to avoid crying. Say thanks to the operator and slowly but surely gets back to her office. Shuts and locks the door for good measure. With shivering fingers, she grabs the framed picture from her bookcase and looks at it. Looks at him. Really looks at him. There it is. The same look she sees every day when they walk with Dog. The same look he had when he said he loved her, fifty days ago. A look he’s been giving her for years now. Maybe since the beginning of them.

You do love me...don’t you?

He’s coming back. In a week, he’ll be back. She has seven days to prepare herself, so when he gets here she can tell him that she loves him too. Without giggling, without shrugging, without doubt. Seven days. She can wait. Seven days are nothing compared to all the days that they’ve already lived and those that will come. Hopefully. She’s fine. She can wait. They had enough bad timing. Time to get back to work. Those reports won't read themselves.