#season 1 twd

[dawndauce]

season 1 clem is so

[xoxo-sarah]

My Wife

↝a/n: 2,605 w/c... I like this one, guys.

↝pairing: Season 1!Daryl x wife!reader

↝warning: usual walking dead stuff, angst, animal death (mentions blood. No details), reader being sexualized?, creepy men, harassment, the creepy guy getting punched (he deserved it), cursing, protective Daryl, Merle (ew), crying, moody and soft Daryl, sassy Daryl (it's season one, what do you expect?), slightly proofread

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Daryl Dixon, or any character from The Walking Dead. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

↝⎙ 10.2.24

Daryl Dixon masterlist

Before the apocalypse, you'd say your life wasn't bad. You had a decent job that paid well. A husband, a dog, and a house you owned all on your own, without any help from your parents.

You had met Daryl fresh out of college. He was staying with Merle at the time. In a rush to get away from your parents, you found a rent-to-own house on the outskirts of Atlanta. It wasn't extravagant, only having 2 beds and one bath. It was still a house-your house.

The first time you went to the grocery store to stock up before you started work since the big move, an old man had hit on you. Daryl listened from afar, not wanting to cause any more trouble for you. He knew you hadn't been in these parts of town before, he hadn't seen you before.

After many attempts at shooting the guy down, Daryl had to intervene. The guy had grabbed your arm, and before you knew it, the guy was backing away from you.

“She said she's not interested.”

“My bad, man. Didn't know she was yours.” He raised his hands, grin still on his face. It was a game to him.

“So you only take no for an answer if I 'belong' to someone?” Venom laced your voice, disgust painted into the wrinkles between your eyebrows and frown lines, glaring through the guy. A chuckle rumbled out of his chest, followed by a smoker's cough that told you he had more tar in his lungs than he had sense in his brain.

“Ma'am, will all due respect-”

“I doubt anything respectful comes out of that raunchy mouth of yours.”

His grin dropped, eyes slanting in your direction. “This one sure has a mouth on her,” his attention moved back to Daryl. “She have that mouth in the sack?”

You scoffed, glancing down at the floor, collecting the words you wanted to shoot back at him.

In the time you looked away, Daryl had put the 12-pack of beer down and swung. You snapped your head up at the sound of a fist colliding with a cheek. Daryl glared, spitting at the man as he held his cheek in shock. “Give the lady some respect, prick.”

“Damnit, Dixon!” An elderly man came running down the aisle, a manager tag clinking against the pins on his shirt. Safe to say both men had been kicked out.

After checking out, you caught sight of Daryl hunched over, looking at his bruising knuckles.

“Here's for helping me.”

Daryl's head shot up, eyes flickering to the 12-pack in your outstretched hand. “Ya didn't have to.”

“You didn't have to.” He shrugged, taking the box from you.

the rest was history.

You eventually got together, then, moved in together. He supported you in your job, making jokes about you “bringing home the bacon”. The only downside was his brother.

“Damnit, Merle.”

An intoxicated Merle flopped on your couch, cackling up at Daryl. You watched from behind the couch, arms folded across Daryl's shirt draping over your form. Daryl's own top half was bare, his muscles flexing when he folded his arms in disappointment, glaring down.

“What? Did I interrupt you 'n your housewife duties?”

You scoffed, turning around to walk back to your room, the dog Daryl had gotten you for your birthday following after you. Merle watched your movement, lowly whistling. “I'd be a housewife for that piece, too.”

Daryl grabbed the collar of Merle's shirt, bringing him to eye level. “Don't talk about my wife like that.” He threw him back against the couch, “You're out by the mornin'.”

The world had gone to shit right in the middle of your workday. Everyone was running around, yelling and panicking. You tried making a beeline for your car, getting pushed and pulled every which way. The traffic was the worst you had ever seen, when you had finally made your way onto the road.

When you finally got home, the door was open.

You rushed in, looking in every room. There was no sign of Daryl besides the place being completely trashed, in a rush to leave. He wasn't there. You had no clue where he was, if he was safe, if he knew what was happening.

You cracked the backdoor open, nearly falling to your knees. A body laid on the back porch, blood dried on its way down the person's forehead. A lump of fur and blood was right beside it. A sob racked your body on your way back to your car. Your knuckles were ghostly white as they gripped the steering wheel, as you made your way out of town, away from the life you worked hard to get and worked harder to keep.

You eventually got stuck in even more traffic. Everything only got worse when your car ran out of gas.

You had to hide in the city, which was run with zombies. Luckily for you, you had found a few bodies that hadn't turned yet, stealing anything that could be used as a weapon. You were able to stay safe, hiding in an empty office building. Living off of the vending machines and what was left in the break rooms.

You regularly walked up to the roof, getting fresh air, wondering where Daryl had gone and if he was thinking of you. Sure, a part of you wanted to be mad at him for leaving without you, but you knew he had to have his reasons. Merle had to of made him run away with him when the news first got out.

While you looked over the edge, watching as dead bodies herded together, feasting on whatever had run into the city on your way up here, you saw quick movement to your left. Swirling around, you held your gun up, pointing it at the kid in front of you.

“Woah, Hey! I'm alive- I'm alive! Not going to hurt you.” The poor boy might as well have been shivering in his boots. His hands shook in the air. He was probably the third person you've seen, alive, since you squatted in the top floor. He didn't seem like the guy to kill you just to take your stuff. “Look, there's a guy in the tank down there. I'm just trying to help him.” You thought back to the sounds of pained neighing you heard when you first stepped onto the roof, but you had shrugged it off, figuring you were going insane already. No sleep and being isolated will do that to you. “C'mon, dude.” He was practically begging you to not shoot him in the head.

What would Daryl do in this situation? He wouldn't just trust anyone when it comes to survival. You reluctantly put your gun down, watching as he sighed in relief. You hid the shake in your hands when they fell to your sides, not wanting him to know you didn't want to kill him even if he were dangerous.

“We have to get down there to help him.” The boy leaned over the edge, at the tank and the 'geeks' that surrounded it.

“We?”

He looked back at you, then to the tank. “The extra help would be appreciated.”

Somehow, you followed after him, climbing down fire escapes and counting the amount of bodies in each alleyway. He was quick, but you kept up with him with ease.

He led you down the alleyway, hiding behind the trashcans and gate separating you and a painful death. “You have good aim? I need you to shoot that big guy closest to the tank.” He whispered, fixing the hat on his head.

You glanced at him, watching as he awaited your next move. You whispered back, “it's empty.” You held the gun up in emphasis. You weren't going to tell him that when it was pointed at him. He huffed, throwing his head back. “I only have a knife.”

He shrugged off his backpack, grabbing the empty gun and throwing it in there. It was useless with no bullets, and it only took up a hand, making it harder for you to climb.

“Alright, change of plans.” He grabbed the walkie, bringing it to his mouth before pressing the button. “Hey, you alive in there?”

A frantic voice broke through the static, “Hello? Hello?!”

The next thing you knew, you were running downstairs with the young boy, Glenn, you had figured out, and the guy you nearly died saving, Rick. Glenn led you two to another alleyway, before the door to the building in front of you busted open, 2 people filing out with gear and helmets on, attacking the walkers wondering in front of you.

“Lets go!” Glenn jumped over the bodies on the ground, running through the door, you and Rick following. As soon as you were through the door, you were pushed to the other side of the wall, before Rick was pushed back, a gun aimed at his face. “You son of a bitch! We ought to kill you.” A blonde woman was seething, ready to put a bullet in Rick's head.

“Just chill out, Andrea. Back off.” One of the guys who bashed the walker's head in pulled off the armor, glaring at the blonde.

“Come on, ease up.”

“Ease up? You're kidding me, right? We're dead because of this stupid asshole.” The gun was pointed at you next, “And her.” Her finger twitched on the trigger, but you were at a loss of words.

“She helped.” Glenn was ignored.

“Andrea, I said, back the hell off. Or pull the trigger.” The same guy from before stepped forward, closer to Andrea. It was silent for a second, before Andrea dropped her hand, lips quivering with oncoming tears. You took a breath, having the room to do so when a gun isn't pointed at you.

“We're dead,” Andrea sobbed, “All of us.” Her gaze moved back to Rick, “Because of you.”

You wondered after everyone as they walked through the old building, listening as they scolded rick for firing his gun.

“No signal. Maybe the roof.” The man, who was introduced as T-Dog, said, holding the walkie. Before anyone else could reply, a gun shot fired, echoing from above.

“Oh no, Is that Dixon?”

“Dixon?”

Andrea stopped her movement, looking back at you. “Yeah. What, you know 'em?”

Sadly, you were met with a distasteful Merle on the roof. He refused to tell you about Daryl-about how Merle had to drag in out of the house. About how Daryl wanted to pick you up and take you with them. About how Daryl had gone back, against Merle's wishes, and found you nowhere in the house. But you weren't told that, so the nerves in your stomach still fluttered, making you feel like you were going to vomit any minute. The only thing he told you was that Daryl was with the rest of the group by the quarry.

The nerves still fluttered even on your way to the said quarry. The thought of Merle being trapped in the roof was at the back of your mind, the thought of seeing Daryl for the first time in God knows how long, being front and center in your mind. Your leg shook with nerves as you sat in the back of the van, hitting a bump every once in a while, and knocking into one of the other people.

The van pulled up to the quarry, people piling out of the back, running to their families.

You were introduced to a woman named Carol. She was surprised when you told her that you knew Daryl. The short time she had known the man, she couldn't think of him having a soft spot for anyone, but here you were. She told you that he had gone hunting and that he should be back before dawn.

You sat around, getting to know everyone. As soon as Carol's husband raised his voice to her, you had kept an eye on him, instantly feeling protective of the woman. As she silently did for you. She kept an eye on you, making sure you felt comfortable among all of the strangers.

Night fell and there was still no sign of Daryl. You distracted yourself by helping Carol with whatever, or Dale with lookout. You hadn't told anyone much about you and Daryl. Mostly because you couldn't form a coherent sentence with Daryl on your mind. Where was he? Was he okay? Why wasn't he back? The band around your ring finger became a fidget habit. You spun it around any time the thoughts got too much.

The crisp morning air did little to wake you. You might as well have been a walker with how you sluggishly moved around camp, helping with anything, wanted to be helpful and pull your weight.

Carol handed you another pair of soaked pants, to ring the water out and hang it up to dry. While doing so, your eyes caught sight of Rick and Lori. They had been reunited. When was it your turn?

“How did you and Daryl meet?” Glancing back up at Carol, you cleared your throat to speak.

Before you could utter a word, a scream echoed throughout the camp, followed by Carl's screams for his mother.

Everyone stopped what they were doing, a few running toward the screaming, ready for the worst.

You walked behind the group, watching as Rick, Glenn, Dale, Shane, and a few others beat the walker that had made it from the city.

Dale swung down with his axe, cutting the head clean off the walker's body.

“It's the first one we've had up here.” He heaved, “They never come this far up the mountain.”

“Well, they're running out of food in the city, that's what.” Another guy, Jim, said, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Branches snapped, followed by more footsteps. The guys with the weapons moved toward the sound, weapons ready.

Your breath caught in your throat.

He hadn't seen you yet.

Daryl stepped over branches, slightly taken aback with everyone standing in front of him, ready to strike.

Everyone took a step back, “Oh, Jesus.” Dale's shoulders released the tension.

“Son of a bitch.” Daryl cursed, “That's my deer!” He walked to what was left of the poor animal.

He looked how he did when you first met. Frustration clear on his brow. You had helped him get rid of the constant scrunch of his brow and frown on his lips, and here it was, making its appearance in a dramatic manner.

“Look at it, all gnawed on by this-” He kicked the headless body that laid on the ground, “filthy,” kick “disease-bearing,” kick “motherless,” kick “poxy bastard!”

“Calm down, son. That's not helping.” Dale peeped, infuriating Daryl more.

“What do you know about it, old man?” Daryl walked closer, getting in Dale's face. "Why don't you take that stupid hat and go back to “On Golden Pond”?"

“Daryl.”

Daryl paused, his face dropping. He turned to the voice, his knees nearly collapsing from underneath him.

Before you could say anything else, his crossbow was dropping to the ground, followed by the string of squirrels on his shoulder. He rushed over, his body colliding with yours. His calloused hands pulled your face closer to his.

He didn't care if everyone was watching. Or if the scene made them think differently about his tough-guy thing he had going on. His lips moved against yours.

“I didn't know where you were.” He mumbled against your lips. “I tried looking everywhere-”

“I know, I know. Doesn't matter.”

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]

[acecroft]

THE WALKING DEAD 1.02

[optimist-pine]

Bodyguard

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: people are naked, but it's barely even borderline suggestive

Summary: You need a bath, but there's no way you're going alone

Era: Season 1, the Quarry

Your skin practically crawls from the buildup of dirt, sweat, and who knows what else that's managed to accumulate over the past three days. You still haven't quite adjusted to the reality of not having on-demand access to a hot shower and your scalp is all oily, and itchy, and eugh - gross. A little shiver runs down your spine at the thought - well, maybe that's just more sweat...

The bold shades of the sunset are beginning to fade as you make your way to the Dixon brothers' camp. Currently they're the closest thing you have to neighbors, your tent being between theirs and the rest of the group. You're dying for a quick dip and rinse in the pond, but you don't actually want to die for a bath, and you know it's a dumb idea to go alone. Everyone else seems busy though and you've come to the conclusion that Daryl seems to be your only option.

Most of the others actively avoid the brothers, and you can't say you blame them. Merle's constantly stirring up trouble and being a general annoyance, and Daryl's quick to jump to his defense. But, on the rare occasion when Daryl isn't being held under Merle's thumb, you catch glimpses of a very different person than what he usually puts out.

He's sitting in an old lawn chair by the side of a fire when you approach, poking a stick around in the coals. Little sparks shoot off where the fresh evening air hits them, and the smell of woodsmoke fills your lungs.

"Hey." You greet. A spot of doubt begins to arise within you, but you quickly stamp it out. With recent events you were beginning to discover that there wasn't much room left for second guessing or overthinking anymore.

"Need somethin'?" He asks, eyes flicking up to you for a moment before returning to the flames.

You hang your thumbs in your belt loops, fingers tapping against your hips. "If you're not busy, I was hoping maybe you could go down to the water with me? I'd ask someone else but they all seem rather occupied at the moment... and I don't think Shane'd let me go alone." You say.

He looks up, jaw set awfully close to a scowl. "I ain't gonna be yer damn bodyguard." He huffs.

"No- I don't want you to watch me or anything like that- I guess I'm just asking for companionship?" You reply. "You could do whatever you're gonna do here, but just do it down there?" You hike your thumb over your shoulder in the direction of the pond.

He stays silent, but a sudden chorus of laughter flows out from the direction of the rest of the group. You study the way the firelight smooths out his rough edges, and you can't help but wonder if the look in his eyes is just boredom or if it's really loneliness.

"Unless you prefer Merle's company, then by all means I'll leave ya to it." You continue, trying your best to ignore Merle sawing logs in the tent, and erase the image of his hand too close to his crotch from your mind.

He jams the stick into the dirt hard enough that it remains standing when he lets go. "A'ight. Lemme get 'mah stuff."

"Awesome, I'll be over at my tent when you're ready." You smile, pleased and a little surprised that you'd managed to get him to say yes. Admittedly, Merle wasn't so bad when he was passed out, but it was reassuring to know that you were at least preferred company over an unconscious jerk.

---

Dirt and gravel crunch under your boots as the two of you walk, your knapsack bouncing steadily against your back with each step. "Thanks for coming with me. I'm not necessarily afraid of the dark or anything, but there's a lot worse things in the woods now than just coyotes." You explain. "And it's just nice not to be alone."

He simply grunts in response.

Good thing you didn't ask him along for his conversational skills.

When you reach the edge of the water you find a rock close to the shore to set out clean clothes and a towel. You see Daryl settle down, back propped against a boulder as he starts rummaging around in his own bag. "Whatcha gonna work on?" You ask.

He pulls out a whetstone and a couple large hunting knives. "Cleanin' mah tools." He replies.

You begin to undress, but a feeling of uncertainty causes you to pause. "Man, I wish I didn't feel like he's sitting up there right now with those binoculars..."

"Who? Shane?" He asks sounding surprised.

"Yeah." You shudder. "Guy gives me the creeps."

You hear scrape of the knife grinding against the sharpener. "Well, hurry up an'ere won' be anythin' ta see." He says.

"Yeah..." You keep your eye on Daryl while you finish, but he doesn't lift his gaze even once beyond sharpening his knife. "I won't be long." You assure him as the cool water rises around you.

As soon as you're far enough in you dive forward, the rush of water instantly reviving and refreshing your whole body as it flows past. You rise upwards as giddiness fills you and you break the surface with a laugh. "This is heavenly!" You gasp. You continue diving and twirling, every sore muscle and painful bruise easing away.

You pause to catch your breath and a small splash has you immediately alert. You left your knife up on the shore with Daryl, but you hadn't heard any sounds of alarm from him so surely it's not a walker. But when you look to the shore the sight has you almost equally as shocked. Daryl is chest deep in the water - bare chested that is - ripples being sent out across the still expanse as he sinks further in.

"Hey!" You yell. "I asked you out here because I thought you weren't some sorta pervert!" You hope it's dark enough that nothing in the water is visible because he's only getting closer.

The moon is full and bright, and the way it reflects off the water makes him look almost ethereal. "Can't protect ya if I'm up'ere an' yer alla'way out 'ere." He reasons.

"I don't need protecting." You roll your eyes. "And all the weapons are up there, Dixon!" You send a splash of water directly into his face.

He returns the splash. "Looked like I was missin' out on alla fun." He shrugs. "'Sides, ya never know when somethin' might jus'-" he disappears under the surface of the water and barely a second later something wraps around your ankle, tugging you under the surface.

When you're released you bob back up to the top wanting to be stern, but you're too busy giggling and swallowing mouthfuls of water to do so. When he surfaces behind you, you turn and splash him again sputtering, "Daryl you- that's not- I can't-" and end up full on belly laughing while trying to stay afloat.

You think you catch the shadow of a smile on his lips before he turns and floats away, like he's done nothing worthy of retaliation. 'Oho boy is he gonna get it.' As quietly as possible you lower yourself in the water, and using shadows from the moonlight, you swim under his head. Reaching up with both hands you use all your strength to grab his shoulders and pull yourself above the surface while pushing him down as hard as you can. Then you make a break for it.

You hear him gasp for air, coughing and sputtering as you swim as fast as you can in the opposite direction.

"Get back 'ere, woman!" He shouts, his tone highly amused. "Yer gonna hafta pay 'fer that!"

You don't realize how loudly you're laughing until the beam of a flashlight is suddenly shining directly in your face.

"Everything alright here?" Shane questions, standing on the shore not far from your and Daryl's discarded clothes. A few of the others are with him; Dale, Andrea, T-Dog, and Morales.

Even in the chilly water you can feel your skin begin to flush all the way down your neck. "Yes! All good!" You squeak out, squinting in the harsh brightness.

"We heard yelling." Andrea chimes in.

You're confident that in all your life you've never been more embarrassed. "That was laughing, guys. I wanted a bath and I asked Daryl to be my bodyguard. We were just, uh, blowing off some steam and I guess we got a little loud... Sorry if we worried anyone." You glance at Daryl who appears to be doing his best impression of the invisible man.

You can make out Dale's hat exceptionally well even in the darkness. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Their hesitation to leave sparks frustration within you - do they really think so lowly of Daryl? Is that what this is all about? Sure, nobody really knows him all that well, but you're all practically strangers and he's done alright by you. The desire to defend him takes over and you snap at the group, "Ah, what're y'all, the fun police? Go ruin somebody else's night and leave us be."

You don't take a good breath until they're all headed back to camp, and it's once again quiet and dark. You sigh, tilting your head back to watch the stars so high above as you float. "Dead people walking around eatin' living people - ya think they'd have bigger problems to deal with than a couple'a skinny dippers." You remark.

A quick exhale of a laugh, not quite a snort, echoes across the pond. "People're always jealous of'a good time if they ain't havin' one." He says quietly.

You pull your fingers through the water, feeling the tension push against them. "So... are ya feeling jealous, or did ya have a good time?" You ask.

"S'pose it wasn't too bad." He says. "But I ain't yer damn bodyguard."

And you grin.

---

Yeah, maybe it's a little awkward getting dried off, getting dressed, and walking back to camp but you sleep more soundly than you have since you arrived. And maybe you're a little annoyed with the way everyone seems to have nothing better to do than gossip, but that new gleam in Daryl's eye when he looks at you wipes it all from your mind. And maybe a lot of things suck, but at the end of the day there's someone who actually likes you, and maybe that's enough.

[mitsuriville]

Lee and Clem digital painting ☹️

They are so cute I can’t do this IT HURTSS

when I tell you I bawled, I did

Time taken - 6h 40m (that’s a long time for me)

[grabyoursaintsandpray]

[mylifeiskindacrazy]

I'm rewatching TWD rn and Daryl is so unintentionally funny in season one...

Dr. Jenner: Those doors are designed to withstand a rocket launcher

Daryl: *swinging an axe at Dr. Jenner* Your head ain't😠

[bananafire11]

Squirrels, Squirrels, and More Squirrels

Summary: Daryl leaves reader squirrels as his way of affection. Set in season 1 sometime before Rick's appearance. TW: Squirrels being dead but otherwise, none!

Squirrels, squirrels, and more squirrels.

Squirrels outside your tent. Squirrels left by your laundry. Squirrels set in your designated place by the fire. Squirrels everywhere. At first you’d thought it was a coincidence. But soon enough there were simply too many to be a coincidence. Honestly, it hadn't taken you long to figure out who this squirrel culprit was. It was quite easy actually.

________________________

Actually catching the squirrel culprit, however, was proving to be notoriously difficult. He was sneaky, you’d give him that. It was like he moved with the wind, gone before you even realized he was there in the first place, slipping right through your fingers. But not tonight. Not tonight. You lie in wait inside of your tent, waiting for the soft crunch of fallen leaves or the silhouette of a certain redneck painting your tent walls. Tonight you’d catch him in the act. You would.

Just by the time your back was starting to ache from sitting in that same rigid position and your eyelids were threatening to slip shut with every passing second, the faintest of footfalls caught your attention. Your eyes popped open, alert. Just as you’d hoped, the dark shadow of the hunter passed over your ugly beige tent walls. A soft thud right outside the opening and the shadow melted away. You pulled yourself up and yanked the zipper open with newfound strength from your tired limbs. Now, you hadn’t actually thought through how it would go once you successfully caught him in the act. Daryl stared at you with wide blue eyes, looking reminiscent of a deer caught in headlights. A string of fresh squirrels hung from his belt, dangling low by his knee and his crossbow slung over his shoulder. The moonlight spilling in through the trees littered his cheeks and bare shoulders in a soft glow, giving him an air of gentleness that wasn’t normally present in the snarky man.

Your eyes flickered to your tent entrance, and sure enough, there sat a dead squirrel. Clean with only the small splattering of blood by its neck where you assumed one of his bolts had pierced. You bent over and grabbed it by the tail, the body falling limp as you held it before you. “Care to explain the sudden influx of dead vermin?” Your tone was a light tease, not wanting to scare the man away. No, that was the last thing you wanted. His throat bobbed and his nose twitched as he squinted at you, steely blue rolling over you in contemplation for an answer. His lips quirked to the side as his fingers played with the strap of his crossbow. “Jus’ help’n ya out,” came the coarse reply. He rolled his shoulders, unoccupied hand now rolling the hem of his blood-stained tank top between his index and thumb. Nervous.

Your head cocked to the side, resting your hand on your hip, “and how is that?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes in a dismissing fashion, “Y’ c’n hardly catch anythin’, so’s I’m doin’ it fer ya.” Your lips involuntarily formed a smile at his poor cover-up. While it was definitely supposed to piss you off, dismissing you as unworthy of catching your own food, your heart did a skip in your chest. He wasn’t completely wrong, you were much better suited for cooking and serving what he caught rather than doing the hunting yourself. It was something you never figured you’d need to learn how to do. “Hmph, I dunno if I should be offended or flattered,” you quipped. “S’pose I can find some use for these.” Daryl’s gaze snapped back to yours, brows pinching, “Really?” You nodded, “Yeah,” you flipped the tawny squirrel over in your fingers, “food, first off.” He returned the nod, teeth chewing at his bottom lip, “I mean, ‘course ya can,” he huffed and it almost sounded like a compliment. Hell, from him, it probably was. Silence fell between you two and you and you glanced back at your tent. Your not-so-comfortable sleeping bag inside was calling for you. “Well, I’mma get some hours of sleep in before mornin,” you murmured. You reached for the zipper, peering at him over your shoulder, “G’night, Daryl.” The redneck blinked at you before he fixed his posture and headed towards his own tent, “Mm, night,” ________________________

And when he’d found a steaming hot bowl of soup by his tent for him the following morning, he knew exactly who’d left it there.

[s0undsinmyhead]

If I see one more “they’re platonic soulmates 🥹🥰” comment on a tagged Caryl post I’m gonna go Carol on these mfs.

If you don’t ship it move on. Creeps. Only thing worse is when they follow up with “she’s like his mother. They have a mother-son relationship.” Wtf show are you watching?! They’re the same age??? Carol has adopted many children. None of them were a middle aged man named Daryl who she flirts with a dreams about being married too.

[bambidixon]

I hate how the group treated Daryl in Season 1—it makes me so upset. that's the worst part of rewatch twd

They judged him constantly, looking down on him and making malicious comments behind his back. Some were even outright mean to him. Sure, Daryl was a bit rough around the edges, but he had every right to be. they were strangers tf at least you can be decent with the ones who are keeping you fed like ...can you mind your own business?

Honestly, I would have left if I were in Daryl's shoes, but Daryl is better than me. I would for real convince him to just leave after they handcuffed Merle to a roof bc that is psycho behavior, but I understand why Daryl didn't, and he did feel guilty about it.

The only one who never treated Daryl like that was Rick. Rick always saw Daryl’s worth and chose to trust him because he was smart enough to recognize how essential Daryl was for their survival. That’s why Rick is so important to Daryl. But, honestly, I can’t even talk about them without tearing up, so I’ll stop here.

Edit: just letting y'all know I'm aware that he was a big idiot back then and he also made many inappropriate comments, it was wrong of him, he was replicating the violence that he grew up with. I'm glad he changed and learned and lived enough to leave that behind.

[carleytwdg]

Kenlee save me…. drew this based off my headcannon that everytime lee talks about his interest in history kenny listens intently and adoringly.. old man yaoi….

[lunajay33]

Found You🩶

Summary: The world is ended and you feel like you’ll never find what you had back in the normal world

•Masterlist•

You had been hold up in a clothing store in Atlanta for most of the outbreak, barely anyone came here until today, a group of people came in trapped after trying to look for food

“Hey are you guys alright?” I asked popping up from my hiding spot

“We’re trying to look for a way out the walkers are all over this place now” the young guy said

I tried to show them all the ways out, and Glenn, I learned, and the cop came up with an idea to cover themselves to walk through the crowd to some trucks

Eventually they managed to come back around and they said they had a safe place that I could join so I went, has to be better than being all alone in this clothing store

It was a bit of a drive outside of the city before we made it to the quarry, we all got out and Rick was reunited with his child and wife, and there was many open arms here it felt safe

“Come dear let’s get you something to eat” ricks wife said as her and some of the girls came and sat around a little fire

“So what did you do before all this?” Andrea asked

“Nothing really, I’m from a small town, I was on a trip to Atlanta when everything happened, I was happy with my life, I had a little cabin in the woods where I met the love of my life, he came across my cabin hunting once he was shy and quiet but he kept coming back and over time I just couldn’t be without him and now…..I don’t know if I’ll ever see him again” I said as tears welled up in my eyes

“Oh honey don’t give up hope, look at Rick he found his family you might too!” Carol smiled as she rubbed my back

The rest of the afternoon was just trying to cook supper and clean some clothes, then there was a ruckus out in the tree line

Rick and Shane and some others went to check it out so it would be dealt with I don’t need to get in the way

Sometime later they all came back and when I looked up, there he was

I shot up running towards the group

“DARYL”

He looked at me and dropped his bow, running up to me and squeezing my so tight

“My baby, I can’t believe I found you” I cried

He pulled back and looked at me with those beautiful eyes I fell in love with, I ran my fingers through his hair as he squeezed my waist

“I can’ believe yer here, yer really here” he smiled

“I’m sorry I should have never went on that trip, I should’ve stayed with you, im never leaving you again”

“I ain’t yer fault, I looked for ya, every time I went out scoutin, I missed ya so much” he cried hiding his face in my shoulder

I rarely saw him like this, but I couldn’t be any more happy in the world that I found him, I found my Daryl

[sadslay]

- SNOOKER ⋆☆ 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

warnings - pre-apocalypse daryl <3, kinda light nsfw, mentions of smoking and alcohol, merle dixon 💀

typically you declined going out on a week night, but you’re best friend - josephine - was freshly single and needed distracting, and the perfect distraction just walked over. merle dixon.

“couple’a dolls like yourselves know how to play snooker?” a man asked and his hand snaked around your friends shoulder.

josey smiled as you both recognized the man. “yes sir.” she grinned, leaning into his touch. “you got a partner or we playin’ trios?” she asked, looking up into his dilated eyes.

personally you have only interacted with merle dixon a handful of times and all of then involved him dealing some sort of drug or pill to a friend if yours. he was well known around your small town but someone who was a little lesser known was his little brother daryl who was sitting across the pub waiting by the snooker tables.

“see my little brother over there?” merle questioned, his voice drawn out and slurred as he peered over to daryl before looking at your near by friend, giving her a once over. “he’ll be our fourth.” he added.

you gave daryl a little wave only to be met with a almost unnoticeable smile. daryl didn’t look too much older then you and your friend, maybe only by a couple of years, but daryl had always been the quiet brother. he was always the one to pull merle away from a fight or bail him out of the cells. daryl seemed so vastly different to merle, yet freakishly similar.

“he can be your partner sweetheart.” merle chuckled noticing the prolonged eye contact between the two of us.

you looked up at the older man, flashing him a honeyed smile before sliding off your chair. there maybe an inch or two height difference between you and merle making the man step back. letting out a soft giggle you walked towards daryl as he sorted the balls into a wooden triangle.

you leant up again the pool table, your hands on the wooden trim as you asked, “is it alright if i’m your partner?”

daryl looked up at you. he had taken notice of your short pleated skirt. his mouth slightly gaped open in awe as you waited for his response. “yeah.” he stammered. “why wouldn’t it be?”

“s’just i’ve never played pool before.” you shrugged. “not properly anyways, not since i was a kid.” you shyly admitted as a soft smile crept onto your lips from the fond memory of playing pool with your siblings.

it was like he almost forgot how to breath as you played with the rings on your fingers. these gorgeous rings that held colourful gemstones that matched your eyes and freshly painted nails. “i can teach you.” he stuttered, barely able to look at you.

“y’all done? or can we play?” merle snickered from the other end of the table causing your cheeks to blush and daryl’s brows to furrow.

“piss of.” he grumbled, removing the wooden triangle allowing merle to break.

merle let out a bellowing laugh as he made his shot, sending the brightly coloured balls flying across the table. “we’re solids darlin’.” merle murmured, his southern drawl more prominent the more he drank.

once the balls stilled, daryl looked at you, extending the cue stick out. “you wanna go first?” he asked, his eyes barely meeting yours.

“you can go first.” you smiled, entirely too nervous you’d mess up the shot. daryl nodded before looking back at the table. “how do you know which ones to go for?” you asked quietly, just loud enough for only daryls ears to hear.

daryl let out a soft laugh, making your cheeks glow red as he pointed towards the table. “we're tryin’ to hit the ones with the coloured strip.”

you slowly nodded, showing daryl that you understood before he spun back around towards the table. he lined up his shot and with one powerful push the balls scattered across the table, one of them landing in a corner pocket. you let out a squeal of excitement, making daryl's cheeks to blush.

“good shot!” you exclaimed, as daryl turned back to look at you. but your smile quickly faded to a worried frown as daryl handed you the cue stick. “oh no i can’t, i don’t know how.” you stuttered.

he forced the stick into your hand, the brief skin to skin contact with each other making your stomach flutter. you shuffled closer to the table, trying to find a shot that would be easy enough for you to not mess up.

"as long as ya hit that white ball, yer did good." he encouraged, watching you as you leant over the table to begin lining up your shot. for a moment daryl watched you, trying his hardest to keep his eyes on the table. "here." he mumbled.

daryl moved closer to you, his body caging yours against the table while one hand adjusted far end of the cue stick and the other pointed to the ten ball on the far end of the table.

"there's no way i'll hit that." you whispered, unintentionally leaning a little further back into daryl.

he let out a stiff laugh before mumbling, "yes you will. just give it a soft tap."

when the warmth of daryl's body left yours, you took in a deep breath and lined up your shot. you hit the cue ball the best you could but just grazed the ten ball, moving it further a away from the pocket.

"shit." you huffed, your eyebrows furrowing as you stepped back from the table. you heard a snicker from the other end of the table. josey clung to merle like her life depended on it while he laughed at your inability to hit the ball. "somethin' funny?" you snapped.

merle's hands flung up in defense as you handed the cue stick to daryl. "nah, nothin' darlin'." he let out a bellowing laugh causing your friend to giggle.

"don't worry about him." daryl spoke, his southern drawl more apparent then ever as you leant on the wall beside him. "he's even more of an asshole when he drinks." he chuckled.

apparently the more you drank the better at the game you got, and now with the game coming to an end, you were starting to get confused by the rules surrounding the eight ball.

"can't i just hit it into any pocket?" you asked, earning a throaty chuckle from merle and a snicker from your friend. “whats so funny?.” you asked as you looked at daryl who had a soft smile creeping onto his lips.

"ya gotta call it." he chuckled softly, stepping a little bit closer to look at the best pocket for you to aim for. "otherwise we loose the game." he spoke in a low whisper, his hand rising at it pointed to pocket to the left of the eight ball. "call that one."

you let out a sign, now feeling like an idiot at you began to line up your shot. at the other end of the table you saw merle all over josey and she adored his attention. your attention was quickly pulled away when you felt daryl behind you as his arms reached around you to adjust your cue stick.

“jus’ focus on hittin’ that white ball straight.” he whispered, his breath by your ear and cheek making your skin crawl with goosebumps.

you were now ten times for nervous as daryl had himself pressed up against you. “i don’t think i’ll get it in.” you admitted, turning your head to look at the man.

he smiled shyly. “you’ll get it,” before pulling away, giving you the room you needed.

taking in a deep breath you lined up your shot like daryl had taught you and as you exhaled the ball shot straight into the corner pocket. after a brief moment of shock, daryl’s words of encouragement caused you to jump up and down as your celebrated your shot.

“i can’t believe i got it in!” you sang, jumping towards daryl to give him a high five. "does that mean we won?" you questioned in disbelief, looking at merle and your friend as they wallowed in their defeat. looking at daryl you saw him smiling as he nodded his head. “we won!” you squealed running to daryl before pulling him into a hug as you spun around.

as you settled down you looked across at josephine as she dug through her bag. you let out a breath of air before getting a pack of cigarettes from the waistband of your skirt. “lookin’ for these?” you smirked shaking the packet to grab her attention. she smiled before walking towards you, trying to snatch the packet from your hands. “play nice.” you giggled.

wrapping her hand around your waist, josey smiled, “come on sweets,” she slurred before beginning to pull you towards the smoking pit.

“y’all runnin’ out on us?” merle snickered from the booth he had sat down in.

“we’ll be back!” you both sang.

as the pair of you sat in the dimly lit smoke pit, you giggled about your encounter with the dixon brothers, josephine sharing her new found infatuation with merle. as you sat down on the weathered wooden benches you pulled the lighter out from the paper packet before lighting a single cigarette. you took in a few breathes before handing the cigarette to josey.

taking in a deep breath, joseu leant back against the cool concrete wall. “you ‘nd daryl were gettin’ close.” she smirked.

“he’s nice.” you shrugged, taking the cigarette from josey’s hand. “could say the same for you ‘nd merle.” you giggled.

before she could snap back with a comment the heavy glass door swung open. daryl walked out alone with a cigarette hanging between his lips. his eyes instantly drawn to you, you were even more beautiful under the moonlight he thought.

“you’re brother comin’ out?” josey asked him as he stood a few feet away, looking through his pockets for a lighter.

daryl shrugged, “dunno.” he mumbled. “think he’s gettin’ more drinks.” daryl added.

abruptly, josephine stood up with a smug grin plastered on her face. "i'll leave you to it." she sang, skipping towards the door, only to stop as she pulled the door open. "be a good girl sweets!" she let out a laugh that came from her stomach before disappearing inside.

a silence hung between you and daryl. it wasn't awkward or necessarily comfortable but it a much needed moment of stillness. your eyes were drawn back to daryl who was still calmly searching for a lighter. you took the cigarette from between your lips and extended your hand, offering it to daryl.

"yer sure?" only now you had noticed how low and horse his voice was. you nodded as daryl stepped forward and took the cigarette. "thanks." he mumbled, sitting down beside you. “how’d you get the name sweets?” he asked, taking in a deep breath of smoke.

his southern drawl made your heart flutter. you let out a soft giggle as your cheeks warmed. "when josey and i were kids, i always had sweets on me." you explained, noticing the soft smile creeping onto daryls lips. "and i guess the name just stuck." you shrugged.

daryl handed back the cigarette as he spoke in a hushed manner. "s'cute."

while you took in another breath of smoke, daryl admired you up close. she was beautiful, one of the prettiest girls he'd ever seen, but her beauty was not like those girls in merles magazines, she was beautiful for that sparkle in her eye whenever she managed to hit a ball while playing snooker. she wasn't beautiful for something as temporary as her look, daryl thought, she was beautiful deep down to her soul. her hair sat on her shoulders, so close to touching his shoulders he had to fight every urge to lean in closer. your hair smelt like a mix of vanilla and tobacco and it drove daryl crazy.

"what?" you laughed softly, putting the cigarette out in a near by ashtray. "s'my lipstick smeared?" your voice was riddled with concern making daryl chuckle.

"nah."

something about him had you entirely infatuated with him. it made you want to know every little secret of his and know the little things that make him happy. the music from inside was now a distant echo as the tension between you was palpable. you inched a little closer, now you could feel his body heat radiating off him. it might have been to copious amounts of alcohol talking but-

"i really want to kiss you right now."

you were drunk, you weren’t thinking clearly daryl thought, there was no way-

“m’sorry, i shouldn’t have said,”

“s’okay.” daryl quickly cut in, now realizing he had made you embarrassed which was the last thing he wanted to do right now.

daryl then did something you hadn’t expected. he leant forward, the space between you close to nonexistent as he placed a gentle kiss on the corner of your lips. he couldn’t scare you away, not after everything that had happened tonight, but something about the small amount of contact had ignited something within him. the space between you was quickly closed again as his lips met your again, this time with more depth and erotism then before.

your hands snaked their way up to the base of daryls neck as you pulled him impossibly closer. your breathing had become desperate just like your lust for daryl as his hand connected with your bare thigh. his hand inched up your thigh, his fingers digging into your skin making your back arch.

in a desperate attempt for air you pulled your lips away from his, to your surprise hearing a groan of impatience. “wanna get outta here?” you whispered into his heard, planting a tantalizingly slow kiss behind his ear.

yes! yes! yes! "uh huh." he smiled, trying to manage his breathing as he began to search for his keys.

you pressed another kiss onto the side of his neck before noticing what he was doing. "are you okay to drive?" you asked in a low whisper as he finally fished out his keys.

daryl nodded, standing up and extending his hand. "i've only have one drink." he spoke quietly, taking your hand to help you stand before beginning to pull you towards the door back into the bar. "'nd i had it a few hours ago." daryl added holding the door open as you walked inside.

as you walked by the bar you gave josey a wink before following daryl dixon out the bar door into the dimly lit carpark. your hand held onto daryl's tightly as he led you to his triumph bonneville motorcycle.

"i've never been on a motorcycle before." you admitted as daryl began to mount his bike.

your cheeks warmed as daryl let out a grumbled laugh. "did yer need help gettin' on?" he asked, looking down at your pleather pumps. he stuck out his arm, letting you use him as support as you mounted his bike. "ya good?" he asked as your body molded against his.

you hummed in response and seconds later daryl put the key in the ignition and started the engine. as he began to roll the bike forward your arms quickly wrapped around his waist. you could heard daryls chuckle as he sped up while turning onto the highway that neighbored the bar. the cool night air felt sobering and euphoric. for the first few minutes of the ride your hands were tightly hugging daryls torso but as you grew more comfortable your grip loosened.

sooner then you had wished, daryl began to slow down before turning into the trailer park on the outside of town. the roar of the engine grew quiet as he parked out the front of a trailer on the far end of the park before turning off the ignition. you combed your hair out of your face and just as you went to get off the bike, daryl held out his arm again so you could steady yourself. you grinned as you dismounted the warm humming bike.

"have fun?" he asked, pushing himself off the bike, your hand still holding onto his his as he led you towards the door.

as he fiddled around with his house keys, the jangling of the nickle and silver being the only noise in the cool night air, you stepped a little closer to daryl. "i bet i can have more fun inside." you whispered in his ear, making the man freeze in his tracks.

your breaths filled the air, the quiet night air and it was taking every morsel in his body not to push you up against the cool tin exterior of his trailer. he pushed the door open and placed both his hands on the sides of your hips, guiding you inside while the door swung shut. daryl spun you around making you giggle but you were quickly met with his lips. his breath was warm and bitter, tasting of tobacco.

the intoxication of it all made your head spin. your hands gripped onto the back of his neck to not only keep you close but also upright. daryls hands hoisted you up around his waist making you gasp for air. daryl knew his trailer like the back of his hand, so with no problem he lowered you both onto the small two person couch, letting your legs drape on the sides of his waist. his hands were all over your body, running painfully slow from the tops of your thighs all the way up to your chest.

your lips slowly drifted from his as your body began to slide down until your knees connected with the lino flooring. daryl was in a dazed state of euphoria and he had only noticed your distance once he heard the clattering of his belt. looking up at daryl through your eyelashes made his breathing quicken, and suddenly it all felt so real.

“yer don’t have to.” he breathed, his hands grasping onto the couch.

slowly you peeled open his jeans, looking at daryl as he squirmed under your touch. “do you want me to stop?” you asked, your hands resting on his thighs.

“i should,” daryl began to mumble, finally making you understand.

“i want to.” you cut him off, smiling as you continued to peel away the denim. “i want you daryl.” you leant up and gave him a soft open mouth kiss.

as your lips parted once again, daryls head fell back. the state of euphoria had once again consumed him and his head began to spin. he took a fist full of your hair and gave it a weak tug. the noises alone drove him crazy and there was no way he could last much longer.

“come ‘ere.” he grunted, finally looking down at you.

smiling at his urgency, you stood up and make quick work of removing your skirt, and slowly you sat down on daryls lap. your hands wrapped around daryls neck as your lips pressed together again. daryls hands gripped onto your thighs, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

“you’re s’beautiful.” daryl mumbled, one of his hands moving from your thigh to your back to support you as you began to roll you hips. “such a good girl.”

[acecroft]

THE WALKING DEAD 1.01

[optimist-pine]

Granny

Summary: You and Daryl have a secret confusing love language of insults

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,236

Era: Seasons 1-5(ish), The quarry - Alexandria

It had started shortly after your first encounter with Mr. Dixon. Simply a passing (slightly pointed) comment - nothing more - as some of you gathered around the fire that night.

Dale stands near the flames, removing a whistling pot from the heat. "Anybody want a cup of tea? Kettle's hot."

"Why dun'cha ask granny over there?" Daryl suggests, nodding towards you with a snigger. Merle's not around tonight, and so it seems he's found a way to create a bit of entertainment.

Your head snaps up when you realize you're the butt of the joke, hands stilling as you set down your work. A crochet hook or knitting needles find their way into your hands as often as that damn crossbow ends up in his; usually when it's too late in the evening to be doing anything else. "You know what? I would love a cup of tea. Thank you, Dale." You reply, taking the steaming mug that's passed to you with a smile that melts into a pointed glare the second Daryl's eyes meet yours.

The corner of his mouth twitches mischievously. "Somebody get out tha' fancy china an' the biscuits an' we'll have ourselves a real tea party." He's prodding the coals with a stick, and in the darkness, the slope of his shoulders brings to mind the image of a caveman. The thought amuses you.

You nod your head, contemplating. "Hmm... I'd be down for that. In fact, I have a feeling we might even be in the presence of a tea party expert." You say knowingly. Sophia and Carol sit cuddled up to your right, and the little girl looks curiously up at you, cradling a well-loved teddy bear. You turn to the child, lowering your voice. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about tea parties, would you?"

She curls into herself a little, shyly. But at her mother's gentle urging, she nods her head, a tiny smile appearing on her face.

You clap your hands together. "It's settled then! Tomorrow we shall have a tea party." The last part is aimed at Daryl - you feel proud of yourself, but the confused look on his face makes you question why. It's like you've taken his accusation as a challenge to prove just how grandmotherly you can be, and funnily enough, he's probably right. You're actually looking forward to hanging out with Sophia tomorrow; she's a pretty cool kid.

Carol tuts softly. "After school." She adds.

"After school." You agree, shooting Sophia a conspiratorial wink.

Every time Daryl spots you working with your yarn he can't resist the urge to tease you about it. Maybe it's because you take every jest in good humor, or maybe it's because you always have a quick, witty comeback. He's never quite figured it out, but somehow it's become a staple of your interactions. Even though so much has changed, he's oddly glad that this hasn't.

One night, in the dead of winter, as the wind howls through gaps in the window frames you get an ornery glint in your eye. Daryl's already found your behavior suspicious, whatever current yarn project you've been committed to hasn't made a single appearance the entire evening. And the way you keep glancing at him almost nervously is... unsettling.

When he looks up again you're walking towards him, hands tucked behind your back, trying so hard to look casual that it doesn't take long before all eyes are on you. You stop in front of him and promptly shove a box in his face. No, not just a box. It's a present, wrapped perfectly in polka-dotted gift wrap with a glittery bow to top it all off.

He stares back at you, wondering what punchline he's missed.

You roll your eyes. "It's a gift, Daryl."

"Why?" He asks. He'd trust you with his life any day, but right now - with that box - he absolutely does not.

"Well, why don'tcha just open it and find out?" You taunt, shaking the present just a smidge.

He takes the box, feeling awkward and clumsy as he tears away the paper. Having never opened a present before - at least nothing like this that is - feelings of stupidity and excitement and pressure blend within him.

He dumps the object into his palm. It's cool and smooth to the touch; a black mug with white writing that says "World's Crankiest Grandpa".

You're trying so hard to withhold from laughing that your face is turning pink.

"Think ya could get yer money back on this one?" He asks, spinning the cup around to critique it.

You slap his arm lightly. "Ah, Dixon, you're no fun."

"She might'a hit the nail on the head there." Rick chuckles.

You sit back down, finally pulling out your yarn like all is now right in the world. "Ah, I found it a couple days ago. Couldn't resist. S'pecially not after the dream I had where you were yellin' at the walkers to 'git offa yer damn lawn'..." You shudder. "Took me a bit to get that one outta my head."

That earns quite a few laughs from the rest of the group. Once again, you've managed to lift the mood of those around you. It seems to be a habit of yours.

He turns the mug over and over again, running his thumb across the letters. He knows it's only a gag gift, but he's not blind to the effort that went into it. And it's not an exaggeration to say that this silly mug is by far the most thoughtful gift he's ever received.

He hangs onto that mug, using it proudly every day. Of course, it garners the occasional question from the new folks, but he doesn't mind. Soon enough he's got a matching handmade hat, scarf, and gloves as proof of your continuing love for the grandmotherly hobby.

When the prison falls he misses those gifts severely.

But then, Alexandria. The day he comes across you there on the porch in a creaky rocking chair, with your cup of steaming tea and a ball of yarn, the once-familiar urge to say something a little stupid and a lot annoying takes over.

He stoops down and leans in. "Where's yer glasses at, old lady?"

You wave your hand to shoo him away. "Ah, git yer muddy boots off'a my porch ya ol' geezer." You nag, the smile you're trying to hide peeking out like a sun ray from behind storm clouds. He holds his hands up in mock surrender, clomping down the steps. But it's not like he's trying to hide his own smile or anything... Not at all.

When he returns home that evening, there, sitting on the end of his bed, is a small box. It's perfectly wrapped in paper that's covered in birds and trees, encircled with a pristinely hand-tied bow. He can't deny the flutter of excitement as he plops down to unwrap it. It's like Deja Vu, the coffee mug tumbling into his palm. This time it's white with black lettering that reads "I don't always roll a joint, but when I do, it's my ankle".

With a snort he falls back onto the bed, letting old memories wash away the burdens of the day. However he can, whatever it takes, he'll hold onto the hope that you'll both end up old and gray and worn someday - together.

[doodleferp]

So I got my mom into The Walking Dead and I thought I’d post about her journey so far.

Her favorite character is Judith hands down

She cried when Amy died

She screamed as much as Lori did when Judith was born

She was VERY interested in Daryl holding Judith

We got a scream when Patricia got mobbed, and an “oh, no…” when we learned what happened to Duane

Merle and Andrea were her least favorite characters until they both died — she hated the way Merle treated Daryl and she hated the way Andrea was always blinded by a dick. She was also terrified of Shane

She cried a LOT when Maggie was talking to Hershel while he was in his little leg coma because she lost her dad and it was hitting really hard

As of today we have

A shout when The Governor killed Martinez

A very loud gasp when The Governer killed Hershel

A full-body “OH, MY GOD!!!” when The Governor put down Meghan

Actually screaming at Rick to kill The Governor while they were fistfighting

A very loud “OH, NO” when she believed Judith was dead

She kept asking if Rick was dead while he was passed out in the house

We had a very interesting discussion about who was living in the house where Carl got the pudding. I thought it could’ve been some college kids/a college neighborhood and she thought it was a new family moving in. She even found some details that I missed!

A brief intermission so she could do work and the entire time she kept asking me about the prison bus that was supposed to have Glenn on it and she was REALLY upset that something might’ve happened to Judith

When we picked up at like 8 PM she was ELATED to discover that Judith was okay. Then she started yelling at Tyreese for leaving the kids alone to go help someone

She’s terrified that Lizzie is gonna hurt Judith because “that girl has issues”

Side note, when Daryl and Beth found that massacre and she saw the kid’s show she was like “ARE THOSE THE KIDS??? ARE THOSE ALL THE KIDS?!?!” Despite the walkers and corpses being grown adults

She just saw the bus she wanted to see so bad and she even didn’t realize that it was the same bus

This woman turned 53 yesterday and her TWD journey is just beginning. She is already distrustful of Terminus but I can’t wait to see how she reacts to them being cannibals

EDIT: Mom enjoyed the middle finger house fire 🖕