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havin-fun-imagining-twd · 4 months

Text

Penance + (knock-off) Ambrosia

still alive, slowpokes :P

When -- during the meal at the Greene's Farm as seen in S02 Chupacabra. After Shame on a plate.

What -- Carol wanted to cook a communal dinner for the Greenes in thanks for all they've done to help your group. Under the weight of Otis' death as well as possibly having to vacate to God-knows-where, the shared meal is tense. Meanwhile, Daryl's busy beating himself up alone in his room and won't eat.

Relationships -- slow burn Daryl x You

Perspective -- You 2nd, Daryl 3rd

Pronouns -- neutral

TWs -- some language, and a non-descriptive allusion to Shane's actions in Stuck in a damn bed.

Masterlist -- Official one here and Chronological one here

feedback is nice to get :D

Jimmy’s note to you reads: “What’s a pirate’s faverite letter?”

Easy, you know this one!

After double-taking at the typo, you scribble back “aRRRR!” and pass it to where he sits beside you, a smug grin tucked in your face. Only rule is: don’t laugh.

Yo, this table is fun, you’re not even embarrassed about being in your mid-twenties and sitting at the kiddie table. It’s too bad Carl tired himself out earlier, he’d be in stitches!

Oh, come to think of it, that wouldn’t be good, his actual stitches are still healing. So are yours, for that matter…

Anyway, it started off as a silly thing: Not 5 minutes into the meal, Beth had tiptoed to get her drawing pad from the den and wrote “please pass white gravy + pepper?” instead of whispering it, because supper had/has been that darn quiet.

This immediately (and somehow wordlessly) turned into the no-laugh competition you’ve all got going.

Granted, laughing out loud might would make the dinner a little less stiff, but you aren’t certain.

The big table seems rough. They’re barely making eye contact, not really talking, eesh.

Before dinner began, Patricia, Lori, and Carol were chatting as they finished up the cooking, and at the same time there was light discussion as you were helping wash the dishes and set the table with your friends. Even Lori exiting Carl’s room after plainly having been crying didn’t alter the good jibing any, things were chill.

But when everyone came in, sat down together? It got uneasy. When Mr. Greene said the blessing it almost felt too loud.

Now the room is limited to clinking, scraping noises, murmured niceties, and hushed requests to pass things.

You did almost lose the no-laugh game first when Glenn quietly mimicked the way Gollum said “what’s taters, precious?” because you whispered at him to “pass the mashed taters, please?” instead of ‘potatoes.’ Don’t fret, you’d obviously murmured back the only correct response of “po-tay-toes?” as well as the cooking instructions Sam says in the movie.

You almost lost it again when Glenn next decided to break the silence by asking the entire room if anybody knew how to play the guitar. The crickets that followed, hilarious!

Except, then Patricia spoke up that her husband had known, Mr. Greene agreed about how skilled Otis had been.

Oh, did the tension spike.

First thing you'd done was peek around to see if Shane was okay. He wasn’t.

His expression had taken on that 1000 yard stare sort of deal he’s been slipping into. Scared, lost. Then hard and almost mean.

Something got broke in him real bad that night Otis got killed. It’s scary, especially considering how he snapped at you yesterday and even…never mind, you don’t want to get into it.

At any rate, he made a very serious apology to you earlier today, very serious.

So, yeah, the room turned way more tense after that innocent guitar question, certainly sobered you up right quick.

And the strange sensation you’d had after Amy got killed, the one where it felt as if her blood was back on it, it started to come back pretty strong. Granted, it had come back after what happened with Shane the other day, too, but the sensation revved up more after the guitar question. Rest in peace Otis.

And at least to you, it made the unspoken understanding of Sophia twist harder, too.

When poor Jimmy got teary when his dad was brought up, you traced a blessing on his forehead and set to scribbling the next dumb joke you could think of on another scrap of paper for him and reminded yourself your hand was clean and that Otis and Sophia’s fates weren’t on you.

As for poor Glenn, once the exchange was over, he looked like he wanted to transform into a chair.

Silver lining was that Maggie helped him feel better; she slipped him a note that must’ve been a really good joke because Glenn seemed giddy as a schoolboy as he wrote down the punchline or whatever.

‘Schoolboy’ is definitely the best term — Mr. Greene and Dale happened to see Glenn sneaking back his response and were staring at the folded paper in his hand.

It’s kinda silly, right? Not only were you, Margaret, and Glenn sat at the kid table, but you were also acting like kids, what with the note-passing. Caught by the principal lol.

In the moment, you’d figured might as well, and so scribbled in big letters on the back of the notepad itself: “Too quiet, so we pass notes!”

When you held it up to the two of them, Dale read the words, swallowed a smile, then mouthed "troublemaker" to you.

As for Mr. Greene, his expression was, per usual, unreadable.

That was, what, all of 10 minutes ago? And it’s still a quiet, tense meal.

Maggie hasn’t taken the note from Glenn out her pocket to share it. A part of you hopes it’s something sweet, therefore private.

And, well, right now, you’re staring at your plate and thinking on how you’ve already got helping #2 on it. It makes you wonder if the quiet in the room, tense as it feels, might could be related to the food?

’Cause dude, it’s been so long since a hot meal this good!

Even the heartbreak about Sophia isn’t enough to stop the cravings from going into overdrive (not true, actually, but the meal is great, is what you mean)—and Carol orchestrated the dinner, anyway. She’s in a place where even she can eat, so…

Wiping your hand on your napkin again (and again), you take another sip of water, and fidget with your fork and knife.

God save you, you want to go hog wild on the food and shove it all into your mouth in one fell swoop. So, you know, maybe everyone else is also extra quiet to focus on eating politely and not stuffing it all in their face like half-starved hamsters, too.

That’s a nice thing to imagine, rather than it being gonna-get-kicked-off-the-property-and-we’re-very-sorry-Otis-is-dead-and-are-we-allowed-to-enjoy-things-when-Sophia-is-probably-dead? tenseness.

Because the food really is so yummy! And there are potatoes! Carol was so thrilled to find out they have potatoes! And there’s dairy! Therefore butter and cream and milk — hallelujah!— oh, you did a happy dance the second a forkful of the mashed taters touched your lips!

Back to the present, as you set to crafting an unnaturally large bite featuring a taste of everything from your plate, Jimmy is reading your response to his pirate joke while — grinning wide and shaking his head?

Then, you see as he scratches with the pen again on the note in his lap and hands it back to you.

Is not a pirate’s favorite letter R? What other letter could it…

You keep chewing while you open the folded note.

It reads:

“aRRRR? Nay, ‘tis the C!”

…

OH MY GOSH—

___________________________

Him

___________________________

A familiar laugh belted out from down the hallway where they was all doing dinner. This was followed by couple seconds of silence even more dead than the dinner already sounded.

But after that? It was as if a dam had burst and carried in pack of hyenas who quickly overtook the dining room.

He next thought he heard the word “pirate,” but that made no sense. A few minutes later, the hyenas seem to have left, judging by how shit got all quiet again.

That is until another noise, this time suspiciously moan-like, called out from the dining room. Within a second or two, he heard the food’s praises sung, T-Dog leading the charge, and, well, the din stayed put after that.

One, big, happy family.

Minus one missing little girl.

Daryl hadn’t touched his plate yet, hadn’t moved from his spot on the bed. Didn’t feel like eating.

How those dickbags was having a dinner was beyond him at that point.

The search today was a bust, yet again. The neighborhood T-Dog’s group went to check was mostly burned down, and the highway spot set up for Sophia was still untouched.

Carol’s words to him wouldn’t shut up, neither — and why in the hell she gave him a kiss on his head?!

“You did more for my little girl that day than her own daddy ever did in his whole life,” she’d told him.

Can you believe that shit? “You did more for my little girl that day than her own daddy ever did in his whole life.” If failing and getting benched for a week was the best that little girl ever got, she had a piss poor life, and that fact whipped Daryl on the back harder than his own old man ever had.

Speaking of, when Carol brought him his tray, she hadn’t knocked. Meaning, Daryl hadn’t had time to pull the sheet over his shoulder before she walked in. His shirt had been off.

Daryl’s hope was that it’d been dark enough in the room that she wouldn’t see the scarring, just the tattoos. It's his own damn fault— he hadn’t felt like putting his shirt back on after Patricia checked his stitches, and house got warm from the cooking, besides. And because he didn’t care to slump out of bed and wrench open the window more, he stayed shirtless and decided to simply kick off his blankets.

Joke’s on him. And now, someone else had seen them.

He could just about hear Merle tell him, “quit wallowin’ like you’re on your period, Darylina.”

Well, Merle wasn’t really there, so Daryl would wallow all he wanted, and think on Carol telling him that he was also “every bit as good as them.”

As Rick, as Shane, as T-Dog, as Glenn, as — fuck, who cares, it didn’t matter. Because Daryl was not.

Carol wasn’t the best judge of character, just look at the turd she’d married.

“You did more for my little girl that day than her own daddy ever did in his whole li—”

—A steady knocking sounded at the door, breaking up the echoes of Carol’s words and setting Daryl on edge.

Yup, it was Y/N’s knocking, no mistaking it.

“Just open it!” was the loudest he’d spoken all day. He didn’t want to be around people, was that such a big ask?

There was a pause before he heard the door open a crack.

“Would you prefer to be left alone awhile longer?” his friend asked softly.

The annoyance Daryl had felt eased and drained off. His whisper was hopefully loud enough for Y/N to hear. “What is it?”

After another pause, whatever they said in response was too quiet and blocked by the door. All Daryl heard was “Red furseh?”

“Y/N, y’can just come in,” he relented. He even bothered to turn toward the door for them, except, his friend hadn’t opened it up yet.

“A-Are you decent?”

Am I…what, did they think he had his hand down his pants or something? “Yes.”

He watched as the door opened and Y/N (nervously?) looked at him, eyes flitting down along the bedsheet.

Goddamn, Y/N really did just worry if I had my hand down my pants.

“Are you ready for seconds?” Y/N repeated, relaxing.

Got it, that’s what they’d been asking from the doorway.

Daryl responded by way of a gruff, soft, “Nah.”

Another pause.

“Do you feel sick? Or are you,” they tilted their head and frowned again, “‘wallowing’ ain’t the right word — are you beatin’ yourself up, Daryl?”

Yes, somebody has to. “What do you want?” If Y/N could not hit the nail on the head right now, that would be great. He had a bandage on it, after all…

“I’m-I’m asking ’cause the symptoms are usually the same, I mean,” his friend started walking toward the bed as if they was hesitant to do it, “you ain’t even touched your plate, your voice is — for real, sugar, d’you feel sick, depressed, or both?” Saying this, they laid their wrist against his forehead.

“Careful, I got a bandage!” was stupid of Daryl to grunt, because it was coming off tomorrow morning and because Y/N was careful, but he grunted it anyway. Just — why’d they need to use that pet name?

“There were a whole lot of ways you could have contracted yourself an infection, and, well, y-your shirt is off. Ain’t never seen you do that, um…” Y/N inhaled, then exhaled slowly, and pulled their wrist away. “You are kinda warm, but it is warm in here. Really warm, actually, um, d’you want the window open more?”

Yes, please. “M’fine.”

He shifted back onto his side and resumed staring into space.

“Let me do somethin’ for you before I go,” Y/N gently insisted. “Please.” They put a soothing-type tone on. Normally, a tone like that would cause him to feel belittled or pitied, but, he didn’t know, maybe after this week he was used to it. And, he didn’t know, maybe pity wasn’t such a bad thing.

“First, would you like a shirt, or are you good?” his friend asked.

‘Would he like a shirt,’ hell yes, he would like a shirt.

The tugging sensation in his chest came back for a sec. Y/N had a knack for hitting the nail on the head with him. And while the offer was both innocent and loaded, he started to feel as if his soul had been stripped bare-naked in front of them again.

The fact that he’d even let them see his back had been a lapse, a huge lapse. He didn’t know what he’d been thinking.

But, if right now he didn’t act like it was the worst thing, he hated hated hated people seeing, nobody was supposed to see, weren’t nobody’s damn business! a big deal, it wouldn’t be, right?

Which is why Daryl decided to make no effort to cover up more at that moment, so that nothing would seem off. It made his skin crawl to not, it made him feel cornered, but he left the sheet where it was and decided to kick Y/N out.

Yet, strangely, instead of hoarsely grunting at them to 'leave him be' like he thought he was about to, he softly admitted, “Yeah.”

Y/N grabbed the clean, folded shirt and pants that Lori had brought and placed it beside him.“Here’s your pants, too, make it easier in the morning when you get discharged. Miss Patricia will come in and you’ll be all ready!” A nod at his untouched meal. “Want the plate to stay, or go?”

“Take it.”

“Positive? Carol, Lori, and Patricia went ham cookin’ the food. Literally, they cooked some salt ham, but there’s also a little of the fish left that Andy caught for me, if you’d prefer?” They tried to entice him more. “The green beans are fresh, the veggie casserole is creamy, and the mashed taters got fresh butter in ’em? There’s white and brown gravy…”

The thought of eating was tempting as hell, he’d give it that. He was hungry and the food smelled amazing. Still, he shook his head. The thought of putting a bite in his mouth made him feel sick.

Y/N looked a little disappointed, but accepted his decision with a tiny, forced smile. After a beat, their smile turned real. “You’ll get awarded MVP for not touchin’ your plate tonight,” they teased. “It’ll get shared well. I don’t reckon there’ll be crumbs left at the rate we’re hoovering it down, I-I accidentally already had thirds. But, um,” they added, biting their lip. “Dare, in a little while, please might can I bring you a bowl of dessert, in the least? You must be terrible hungry by now and you need to eat if you’re gonna heal, hon.”

He just sorta stared back, didn’t know what to answer yet. Them using a pet-name again wasn’t helping none.

This was no problem for Y/N, who seemed to have begun nervous-jabbering. “When I told Jimmy there was dessert, his eyes got all big. I’m not gonna lie, it was so darn cute. But I didn’t ruin the surprise and tell him what it is, I just winked and let him imagine. Do you wanna know what it is?”

His cheeks warmed. “What is it,” Daryl dutifully responded.

“It’s a surprise!” was the completely expected answer. Y/N looked very pleased. “But it involves hand-whipped cream,” they sing-songed.

___________________________

You

___________________________

You haven’t seen anyone’s mood here drop as low as Daryl’s has in the past few days, not since Andrea’s did after Amy died. Not even Shane after what happened to Otis, he’s handling the pain differently.

But just now when you enticed Daryl with the notion of whipped cream, he almost smiled, you saw it!

Victory!

And, before you went to Daryl’s room to see if he wanted more, you’d walked over to the big table and whispered in Shane’s ear that when dessert was served, he should wake Carl to give him a bowl and get “cool uncle points,” and he smiled, too!

Victory!

Why do you feel like you are personally responsible for holding everyone’s shit together?

Like, even at the dinner, after you’d burst out laughing, it felt so good to have eased the tension in the room, even if by accident. Then, when you heard the laughter dying down and the room going quiet again, you felt as if you’d just failed. So, you had to fix it.

Cue you to shove a big bite into your mouth and loudly moan about how good it was in the hopes that saying so would keep the momentum going. And prompt Hershel to accept your people, change his mind, keep your family safe, and keep everyone together because what if you personally aren’t trying hard enough or doing it the right way and things fall apart? Who’s fault will it be? Why does your stupid hand feel like Amy’s blood is on it again? Dale already explained how it’s ‘self-reproach because of survivor’s guilt,’ so why can’t you shake it off?

Okay, chill out, it’s not all on you. You’re not responsible, you cannot control and fix it all, it’s not all on you.

Surrender it up, and trust.

Offer it up and trust…

Thankfully, Theodore had joined in with your noise of appreciation, declaring, “I second that, mmm-mm!”

Good Moses, you could’ve legit knelt down and pledged him your fealty (or whatever it is squires did for knights in shining armor).

Heck, you were tempted to ignore the age difference and propose marriage to him instead, you were that relieved that he’d gone with it, because it prompted those at the big table to join.

Shane was right there for you, too. “This meal is hittin’ all the marks,” he quietly praised, “ain’t had grub this good in a while.”

Then there was a toast (thank you, Ricky and T-Dog), and things stayed fairly light after that. Light and comfortable.

And only during your last bite, when you noticed everyone else had seconds (…or thirds…), was it that you scrambled off, mid-chew, to Daryl’s room to see what he wanted for seconds and maybe convince him to join everyone.

Instead, you were met with an untouched plate and a man who’s voice could barely raise above a gruff whisper. So, you had to try and fix it, obviously, even if the only thing that would actually fix it is finding the little girl who everyone’s hearts have already mourned.

“Wha’ was so funny earlier?” Daryl suddenly surprises you by asking.

You snort. “We were trying to see who’d break first and laugh — this is at the kiddie table, by the way.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

“Psht,” you play-grumble. “But yeah, I lost the game big time. I’d just taken a very impolite sized-bite of food, too. Ain’t never swallowed a bite that big in my entire life, but I didn’t want to snarf in front of everyone!” Way to overshare, weirdo. “Oh, right, you’ll probably want to know the joke,” you remember. You can get scatterbrained when you’re carrying on. “What’s a pirate’s favorite letter?”

“A pirate’s what?”

“Favorite letter.”

“A pirate’s favorite…” Daryl makes a low, soft hum as he exhales. “Didn’t, uh, wasn’t most pirates illiterate?”

“Bro.”

“I dunno, um, the…P,” is the gem he comes up with.

Bless his heart, has Daryl never heard the ‘arrr’ joke before?

“Why a P?” you’ve simply gotta know.

“P…P for pirate, and peg-leg and um, eye-patch, and, the uh, they got parrots. That’s a lotta Ps.”

The immediate gut reaction you have is the strong desire to gasp with delight and smooch him square on the lips WHAT THE, why did his answer turn you on?? Oopsy lol, yeah, gross, no way. You meant to say, um, ah,…?!?

Anyway, you unfortunately end up squealing, “Oh Lord, that was hot.”

It’s fine, you slip in a ‘dude’ right after. “C’mon, dude, what do pirates say? Like the, the sound they make in movies and books?”

“I don’t, uh…'Yo-ho…ho?'”

That’s now you, belly-laughing, even as it makes your stitches pinch more. “No, the noise they make, like, when they’re mad or tryin’ act all scary.”

Hold the darn phone, is he — good Moses in heaven with the angels and saints, Daryl Dixon is blushing.

He’s gone from plain to red splotches on his cheeks, it’s visible even in the low lighting. The inconvenient butterflies start fluttering around in your stomach again, but this is such an unexpected treat, who cares? Ha!

“No way you’re turnin’ red, nerd,” you whisper.

“Stop,” he grunts in his way, and his eyes are crinkled and his mouth is threatening to grin.

A pleasing shiver travels down when you scrunch your pointer finger into a hook. “Arrr,” you enunciate with spot-on cartoonish flair, if you say so yourself.

His eyes shut when the punchline hits him. “Sonofa—it’s R, then?”

Hot damn, is this joke satisfying. “R? Nay nay, boy, ’tis the C!”

___________________________

Him

___________________________

That he’d gone from wishing he were left for dead in a ditch to laughing out loud in the few minutes his friend was in the room with him…Y/N was something else.

A weirdo, too.

The dessert was ambrosia, by the way, Y/N eventually came back into the room with two bowls of it. “Ambrosia” was a loose term; it didn’t have none of the usual stuff but for the pecans and cream dressing.

“It’s peach, raspberry, wild blueberry and pecan ambrosia with hand-whipped cream — Glenn won’t even know to miss the marshmallows!” Y/N had chirped.

Him telling them it was “knockoff ambrosia” (as a joke) only lead to them pursing their lips, giggling, then immediately going back to happily twittering on how: “Lori hand-whipped it to make it extra special, and Carol added a mite bit of buttermilk to get the tang it needs. Can’t wait to taste how it came out…”

Their little food dance as they took the first bite was cute.

And shiiit, the little moan they made as they shut their eyes and tilted their head back shouldn’t have been enough to turn his thoughts sexual, but yeahhh did it. The cabin fever was apparently messing with his dick, too, great.

But, like, why did Y/N say something he did was “hot?” Was it slang for something else, other than what he knew it usually meant?

“Dare, what do you think?” Another quiet, hummed moan, and then Y/N opened their eyes and saw that he hadn’t tasted any. “Oh, Daryl, c’mon and try some? It’s heavenly. I think I’m dying, it’s so yummy.”

Nah. As good as Y/N was making it seem, he couldn’t, and so, shook his head.

But then his friend said something that, weird as it was, for some reason hit the nail on the head for him once more. It was as if there Y/N was, seeing his soul bare-naked again.

“If I were your confessor,” they began so casual-like, “other than explaining how accidental injury ain’t sinful, I’d tell you your penance was to eat what’s in front of you.”

Y/N almost took another bite as if in example, but hesitated before the spoon reached their lips. The light expression they wore dimmed and turned serious. “All you’ve gone through this week isn’t divine justice, that ain’t how God operates. It was an accident. Just like Sophia. It, it wasn’t no test or punishment what happened to her. It was just a… a bad thing,” they hushed, eyes fixed on their bowl, spoon. With an empty half-laugh, they mumbled, “Suddenly can’t stand the thought of food, now, neither.”

With that, Y/N put the bowl to the side and didn’t seem to know what to do next other than maybe cry, by the look of them.

Daryl would’ve missed it if he’d gone back to spacing out and wallowing, but from the corner of his eye he noticed them wipe their palm on their knee a few times as if to dry it off.

He recognized what was going on, or was pretty sure, anyway.

After Amy got killed, Y/N had this messed up thing go on with the hand, the one they’d used to try and stop her from bleeding out. For a few days, it felt to them as if Amy’s blood was still on it and wouldn’t clean off.

Back when Sophia first went missing, he noticed their hand thing came back a little that first afternoon.

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s clean.”

“What is?”

“Your hand.”

They took an extra beat to respond. “I-I know. It’s nothin'.”

“It’s clean,” he repeated, which resulted in Y/N bowing their head. “Ain’t nothing there, Y/N. Lemme see?”

His friend lifted their head back up, raised their hand for him, and shrugged. “Dale says it’s a guilt thing.”

Yeah, he could see that.

“It's not on you to fix everyone’s everything,” he needed to say. Y/N seemed like they didn’t remember that sometimes.

“Ayy, way to come at me with a hammer,” his friend answered with a dry smile. “I know I can’t fix everyone’s stuff,” they spoke carefully, their throat sounded tight. “But we’re called to help, right? After how far things have fallen, we’re called even more now to, to bring, you know, that, that light, to do what we can. And, and,” they stuttered, then took a deep breath. “I dunno. Before all this—did you ever feel like your life was stagnant? Like you was just...existing?”

Did Y/N know how well they could hit the nail on the head?

Yes, Daryl felt like his life was stagnant, it fucking was, he was a nobody! Didn’t do shit with his life, he’d just…rotted, and fixed up bikes in whatever direction his brother drifted. “Yeah.”

“That’s how I was was for years, too. Kinda floated one day after another, just tryin’ to make it to the next.”

Daryl stayed quiet. Yet again, they’d hit the nail on the goddamned head and he wanted Y/N to keep on talking.

And Y/N did, they kept chatting very matter-of-fact. “It got better, ev-eventually, I um, I got help, and then started forcin’ myself to do stuff, get out in the community, all that. Healed a bit.” They swirled their spoon around the bowl. “It didn’t fix everything boom, like: I still felt stagnant a lot, or like a failure, or that things were all my fault, still sometimes wanted to die really bad,” they shared with a shrug, very chill. “But that’s why we can’t rely on feelings, right?”

The invisible string was tugging Daryl’s whole damn torso toward them at this point and he just wanted to hold them to him and — shit, sorry, uh, he meant he wanted to pat ’em on the back, at least.

“Really, it was when the, um,” his friend bit their lip. “This is gonna sound weird.”

“Prolly, if it’s you we’re talkin’ about,” he ribbed, completely dead-pan.

His friend liked it, and even taunted back all goofy, “sure is, betch,” before their smile fell away. After a beat, Y/N quietly, quietly told him the rest. “It was when the…outbreaks happened, that I-I didn’t have to force it anymore. There was suddenly such a, a, a clear duty, clear sense of purpose, I dunno. Just—so much to do, so much to live for, and,” a big exhale, “so much work to be done.”

That explained a lot. Y/N tended to go hard, burn the candle at both ends, if that’s the right phrase.

In fact, he flat-out said so. “Is that why you push too damn hard to be ‘useful?’”

“Again with the hammer on the nail, dude. And, no, it’s—” Y/N found their words. “When you think how w-we, we might could get killed, at any second, any one of us. And how we’ll look back on it all, all our choices, and then answer what we did ‘for the least here on earth’…”

Ah, that checked out, too.

It was something, to see someone still believe in all that stuff after the world fucking ended, he’d give it that.

He used to, too. Not that he’d been any good at it.

Didn’t matter, he didn’t anymore. Not after the dead started walking.

“Now, before Teddy materializes in here to scold me, I get that ‘It’s not through our own efforts.’ And the problem I have with feelin’ worthless is a separate issue my faith helps tackle. Now, I know it ain’t about racking up works of mercy, but, dude—there’s so much work to do! And I want to do as much as —” Y/N shook their head a few times as if shaking out of it. “Sorry, I-I’ma just quit while I’m ahead, here. Oversharing Olympics.”

“Mm.” Hey, it was. “But that’s part of the deal with friends, right?” he murmured while trying to think of a good way to razz on them. “Means you trust ’em.” Y/N tended to make light about everything, so a tease would do ’em good, right? “It, like, Sunday or somethin’, preacher?”

The tease might’ve missed the mark that time, if he was seeing it correctly.

“Friday,” was all his friend mumbled back, and looked embarrassed as shit. The forced smile they offered in return — it made Daryl’s side ache more, somehow. And the way Y/N then sat there, curling their feet in and looking as if they felt…just about as small as Daryl did?

It was as if the invisible knee to the nards was connected to the invisible tugging string on his chest, because while that knee to the nards got him good, he felt that strange string tug toward Y/N big-time.

It was next, when Y/N stood up and moved to take the dishes out, that something very forceful moved in Daryl that had him sitting himself upright (sort of upright) and reaching for his bowl and spoon (oww) before his friend could get to it.

“It’s still good without the cherries and the marshmallows?”

His friend blinked. “Th-there are some, uh, it’s technically got those mini freeze-dried ones, as an extra-surprise.” They tilted their head, squinting at him in a way not unlike how Rick squinted at shit. “The Greene’s had some hot chocolate packets in the back of the pantry, we separated the marshmallows out.”

“That’s a lot of work,” Daryl commented, scooping a spoonful. Looked real pink because of the raspberries.

Y/N next twisted their mouth and almost seemed shy, when they realized what he was about to do.

It made Daryl feel good, seeing them spark up like that. And their shy smile was damn cute, as always.

“Oh, here, try mine if you’re only havin’ a bite,” Y/N asked, holding out their own bowl to him.

“Nah, m’gonna do the whole thing. It being penance and all,” he grunted, then waved his spoon at them. “You, too, go on. Do your penance.”

“My penance?”

“Yeah.” Oh goddamn, the stuff was delicious. “Have a seat, eat up.”

His friend settled on the side of the bed, still looking as if he’d caught them off-guard. They watched him eat for a few moments, and, Daryl had a random, unusual worry that he was eating too sloppy. But holy shit, fresh fruit and whipped cream!

He glanced over mid-scarfing to see Y/N nibbling on (no lie) half a pecan.

“Quit playing with yer food.”

This earned him a small huff and a “I’m savoring it.”

“White lies cost a quarter, remember.”

The amount of attitude Y/N next put into their next bite was funny. “I’b also sduffed a’ready, banjy hick,” they added with their mouth full.

Don’t smile too big, Daryl. “Penance is penance.”

“But pedaces ca be cobooted.”

Don’t smile too big! “They can be what?”

Y/N apologized, swallowed their food and their giggle, and repeated: “Penances can be commuted.”

“They can travel to work?” was his idea of a dumb joke, and this time it did the trick and he made them burst out laughing a second time.

Y/N broke into a laugh so hard they hinged forward and caused some of the cream dressing to get onto their shirt right before their spoon clattered to the floor.

“Laughing like that still hurts, you butt,” his friend wheezed, pressing their arm to their stitched-up side. They coughed a few times, still giggling, and when they thudded their chest a few times they winced. “Ow, bruise. And Lore just washed this top, too.” Another snort. “My fault for bein’ a sucker for dumb jokes, I guess. ”

“Ain’t nobody’s fault, just an accident,” he got the immediate urge to tell them, and so, did.

In response, Y/N looked at him with an expression he wasn’t sure how to read. It wasn’t a bad expression. Then, because that expression made his stomach do more flippy-floppies, Daryl gestured to their bowl again, and Y/N obligingly took another spoonful.

“Dis is so gub,” they hummed softly after taking the bite.

“Damned tasty for knockoff ambrosia,” he had to admit, joining along with another scoop of that damned tasty knockoff ambrosia.

“Do’d even deed deh bigger barshballows.”

Y/N was so fucking cute sometimes. “Or cherries.” He loved the cherries the best, after the marshmallows.

Y/N swallowed their bite.“Or the mandarins.”

“Or the pineapple.” His third favorite part.

“Oh, or the coconut,” Y/N realized, then thought out loud, “Shucks, this is a knockoff.”

“Tasty knockoff, I’d eat it again in a heartbeat,” Daryl murmured. He couldn’t believe his bowl was already empty. “Y/N, you just say ‘shucks?’”

“Shut up.” His friend shook their head and smiled. “Y’know, Daryl, this is prolly one of the top five penances I’ve ever gotten.”

“Top five?”

“One time I got ‘buy yourself something nice that you’ll get good use from. It’s okay if it’s a little expensive, it’s okay if it’s a little frivolous.’ Almost a direct quote, that. I’d been bein’ too, um,” they cleared their throat, “the priest thought I was a bit too hard on myself.”

Daryl knew whatever came next had to be something good, based on his friend’s playful little grin.

“That’s how I bought me my PS3. Pre-owned, so it was a solid deal, and it got very good use.” And with a wistful sounding exhale, they finished, “I miss that thing.” Y/N wiggled their bowl at him. “Please help me with this?”

Daryl’s mouth watered. The stuff tasted so good. Fresh, creamy, sweet, tangy.

Y/N raised their eyebrows at him and smiled.

“If I gotta,” he grunted back.

“Thanks for the assist. Plus, it’s penance.”

“Mm, guess I have to." Oh yeah, big scoop. "If it’s penance.”

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

-> Masterlist link here <-

and our teeny tiny taglist :D

@spenciepoo338 ; @its-freaking-bats ; @whistlesalot ; @buffy-the-assbutt-slayer ; @dreamingaboutthewonderland ; @kwazii-kat ; @darylsmavis ; @outlanderhornet22 ; @battinsonrobs ; @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable ; @writingmybeloved ; @boomergirl123 ; @iheartathena0 ; @moonliight-luv ; @suniloli ; @supernaturalgirl02 ; @cnake-garden ; @daryldixmedown ; @sophehe ; @crashlyrose ; @virgo-sunflower920 ; @jennythe ; @theficbaker ; @vampireautism ; @rosetta196 ; @wifeof-barnes ; @thegemthatreads ; @olive-branch-witch-library

(inbox is open if you would like on or off the taglist, slowpokes. Please don’t feel bad or nervous if you don’t want to be tagged anymore, just let me know in the inbox! We’re all friends here and your comfort level matters)

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unhingen · 10 months

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waddup guys, here are some designs i did of the midnight burger crew. the mucklewains are there, but since they are wave forms, you cant see them. and its totally not because i lowkey forgot (they do have designs i just never got around to drawing them)

but here are some fun facts about how i designed them if anyone is interested:

starting from the left, i mentioned earlier that i based leif of luke from gilmore girls. they both lowkey have the same vibe to me but i only consume gilmore girls in bits and pieces so i could be reading that vibe very wrong.

gloria is based of my mom.

i have a whole post planned about how gloria is important to me as a podcast enjoyer of color, especially as a latine person, so ill gush about her another time. but she just remined me a lot of my own mother and i kinda wanted to honor that

ava was based off of lyla from the spiderverse movies. like with leif, i think both ava and lyla have the same vibe.

Also i kinda deviated from the trend of ava in more academic clothing since i wanted here to fit in the role of diner regular and i feel that the diner regulars are the type of people who would get up and drive to their dennys in their pjs.

casper was actually hard to design since i don't have a wide cataloge of plus size middle aged men in my mental library (for shame).

It end up being a combination of shane from stardew valley and the actor sean astin ( he was in lord of the rings ((im planning to watch the trillogy this week so no spoilers please)))

I also headcannon that he wears sketchers.

leif wears timbs, gloria wears white sneakers, and i almost gave ava crocs but it didn't feel right

and thats it. um thanks for reading this far. i am lowkey scared of posting my art. i plan on making more and posting it on here and my instagram but thats a post for another day. good night and dont stay up for too long. bye

#midnight burger #podcasts #midnight burger fanart

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artoffenrad · 2 years

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I’ve been thinking a lot of Stardew Valley in a post apocalyptic setting lately… it’s one of my favorite genre and I’ve been watching the walking dead again (and the last of us but I’m not up to date with the episodes).

But the idea of Pelican Town surviving all together ?? Barricading the town to keep monsters out ?? Everyone learning their new roles in the ends of time ?? And the whole thing with Shane still being suicidal but having to stay alive because people depend on him ?? The duality of wanting to die but not in the easy way by getting killed ?? I have FEELINGS

Also in this AU farmer Fen hasn’t join Pelican Town yet and they’re still in Zuzu city trying to survive and they will meet the town’s people later. Having to fit in the town during such an hard time ?? People not trusting them but them also being very traumatized by what happened in the city ?? It’s so interesting I can’t djjfjf

For now I’m mainly drawing everyone in a more dirty setting and finding weapons for everyone or just what role they would take on for the community. I hope I’ll post them regularly ? But please don’t forget I’m a disabled artist I sadly can’t draw as much as I want to :’)

#stardew valley #post apocalyptic stardew valley #post apocalypse #stardew shane #Shane #sv shane #stardew valley shane #jas #sv jas #stardew jas #stardew valley jas #farmer fen #non binary farmer #trans farmer #sv farmer #stardew valley farmer #digital art #fenrad art

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pretentiousgayguyidk · 1 year

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~Flowers For You~

(Name) huffed, pacing around camp and running his fingers through his hair stressfully. He had been doing this for the past hour. It was getting late, although his watch was probably off, it didn't make it any better. 8:23 it read.

"Son? Why don't you take a seat, you- you're wearing yourself thin with all this- pacing!" The elderly man fretted, waving his hands around as he called out to the stressed man. (Name) sighed, his brows pinched with worry and his hair in disarray from him messing with it. He turned to Dale, crossing his arms and hugging himself.

"He should have been back by now, Dale! What if something happened? We all know Shane and Rick ain't gonna look for him... And nobody's gonna let me go after him..." He trailed off, swallowing hard as more nasty images of what could have happened out there. Dale nodded a little in understanding, stepping a little closer to his younger companion.

"Look, it'll all be okay. I- Daryl is tough, he can handle himself. Probably just found something and got caught up." The elder man reassured, gently patting (Name) on the shoulder. (Name) hugged himself tighter, knawing at his lip.

"He took a horse. There's no way he would have been out this long... Even if he got caught up- or found something he would have been back by now. I mean, Rick and Shane got back hours ago! All of the groups got back hours ago." He ranted, throwing his hands every which-a-way. Distress was practically oozing from every pore on the man's body.

"Walker. Walker!" Andrea cried out from the RV. Rick ran out of his tent looking up at Andrea with concern. (Name) felt his stomach drop a little, he clutched onto his biceps harder.

"Dale, binoculars." He demanded, a bad feeling settling into his stomach. The older man nodded, handing the object over.

"Is it just the one?" He asked, she nodded and aimed her rifle. (Name) raised the binoculars, trying to see the walker through the glare. He could barely see it, there's no way Andrea could hit it from here.

"I think I can nail it from here!" She shouted, cocking her gun. Rick raised his hand as Shane and the others grabbed their weapons. (Name) sighed, pulling out his knife and running with the other's as Rick shouted something about Hershel wanting to deal with it.

Now (Name) was cursing himself for being a lazy shut in, his legs ached and his lungs burned as he ran. He wasn't the most physically inclined, usually staying back with the women and kids to watch over the farm instead of searching. He leaned against his knees, wheezing a little as he caught his breath.

Fear struck him harder than lightning. The very man he was fretting over was standing before him. Drenched in blood, limping, ears strung around his neck.

"Is that Daryl?" Glen whispered, everyone stood on silent fear as Daryl swayed.

"That's the third time you pointed that thing at my head! You gonna pull the trigger or what?" Everyone sighed with relief when the redneck spoke. (Name) stepped a little closer and opened his mouth to say something. The loud crack of Andrea's rifle echoed throughout the fields as blood splaters, Daryl fell to the ground.

"Daryl!?" (Name) screamed, falling down to the arbalist's side and gently turning his head. The bullet grazed him. His ears rang as the shot echoed through his head, he watched in a daze as the others lifted his close friend who had fallen unconscious.

"He lost a good amount of blood, probably needs at least one transfusion. Do any of you know his blood type?" Hershel asked, looking between (Name), Shane, and Rick. They all shake their heads.

"No... But you can still take mine." (Name) stated, stepping forward with his arm held out. Hershel and the others were about to object. "My blood types O-."

"Well. That makes this a whole lot easier. Better hope that you don't ever need a transfusion yourself." The old man stated, cleaning off a needle and carefully inserting it into the young man's arm, carefully drawing the blood. The young man winced, looking the other way - glancing down at Daryl, who was still unconscious. (Name) gave the unconscious man a weak smile, silently thanking his mostly safe return.

After the one transfusion along with several stitches, Daryl was mostly okay, aside from a slight concussion. If it weren't for the bolt he probably would have been up and about by now. Yet (Name) wasn't one to complain, just glad his hillbilly friend was okay.

It took Rick and Shane shooing him away before he left Daryl's side, even after that Daryl never strayed to far from his mind. With a stressed sigh (Name) finds himself walking along the forest line, as he walks he freezes. Within the forest he can hear raspy growling of a hungry Walker. He shakily pulls out his knife and inches closer to the sound.

A women, crushed under a mossy log lay there, clawing and scraping at the dirt and air. A few feet to her left were the sprouts of delicate buds of dark maroon roses. (Name) smile a little, carefully stepping closer without getting grabbed to pluck the fullest bud. It wasn't in full bloom but it was deffinatly close, any other occasion he would have let it grow more - but with the recent incident he couldn't help but pluck it.

He gently cradled the flower as he plunged his knife into the walkers skull, finally putting the gardener to rest.

With a soft smile playing on his lips (Name) happily made his way home, tying up his (light/dark) hair. It had gotten so long already, Carol had given him a hair tie to help.

"Dale? You got anything I could use as like... A vase?" The younger man questioned, peaking into the camper. Dale blinked a little, then turning and somewhat speratically looking around. He eventually settled in opening a cabinet and handing (Name) a cup.

"Here you go son, you giving it to someone?" The elder asked, gesturing to the flower. (Name) nodded slowly, looking vaguely in the direction of Hershel's house. The young man clearly had someone in mind... And Dale caught on quick, smiling at the young adult. "Go ahead and give it to him, I'll uh... Distract Shane and Rick if I have to."

"Thank you Dale," the young man says, smiling lopsidedly with a new pep in his step - his heart no longer as heavy as he holds the budding rose in the cup close to his chest.

He sneaks his way into the house with the help of Maggie, the younger woman distracting her dad a little as (Name) slipped into the guest room... Surprised to see Daryl awake.

"Hell d'you want..." the arbalist grumbles. (Name) smiles sheepishly, gently setting the flower aside... It wasn't much, but it was something.

"I just... Wanted to check up on you, you feeling alright? Well... As alright as you can." He says with a soft chuckle, which inturn made Daryl grunt in his lazy laugh manner.

"About as fine and dandy as I can... Whatever, I found a lead on the little girl - that's all that matters 'round here." He says, grunting as he tries to sit up a little - some of the scarring on his chest and back catching (Name)'s eye... Though he didn't question it.

"A lead?" He asks, sitting at the side of the bed - which Daryl accepted surprisingly enough. The messy archer grunted a little, his usual lazy reply to any conversation.

"Found her doll, she could'a gone to the little neighborhood or somethin'." He says, pulling the doll out of his waistband - shaking it slightly to emphasize what he said. (Name) nods, gently placing his hand over Daryl's - a subconscious gesture that almost got him slapped away... Key word almost.

"You did good on her today, ain't no one gonna give you shit... If they try I'll knock their teeth out." He says in a light hearted way, knowing that Daryl isn't one for sentimentals... (Name) didn't mind finding round about ways to talk about it.

"Yeah yeah... Whatever, thanks for the flower..." Daryl grumbles, sounding annoyed but (Name) knew Daryl was grateful... And (Name) does something surprising... He kisses Daryl's temple, that is before standing up and turning to walk away.

"Get some rest..." He whispers, leaving before the slightly flustered and confused redneck could respond... "The hell was that?"

#male reader #fluff #daryl x male reader #flowers #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x male reader #male reader x walking dead #gay daryl dixon #gay #queer #mlm only

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henbytheshore · 2 months

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We're going on an adventure ~

I would like to extend an absolutely massive thank you to @cupidcounsel for selling me this adorable, beautiful bag.

I love the colour, it's amazing quality, all the little Shane items are adorable. I am in love, I will be taking care of it and protecting it with my everything.

The little note (I censored your name as I wasn't sure if you would be happy with it being posted publicly, hope that's okay) is so lovely, and the drawing is super cute.

I decided to take the little note, and the two additional pictures in the bag and stick them to my door.

I have added my own 2 pins (the hard enamel blue chicken, and Shane pin) to the bag already.

The letter, the one from the 'Before The Farmer' book, is currently within the book itself.

It's little perfect, and I love it. I cannot thank you enough for selling it to me, I love it so much I don't have the words 💜💜

Thank you very much !!! 💜💜💜

#stardew valley shane #stardew valley #the plushies were already mine i just thought it would be a cute little photo uwu #i love it so much im almost scard to use it xD

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chthonic-cassandra · 10 months

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Tagged by @lotesseflower

3 Ships: This is hard, you all know I'm not an especially shippy person, and I'm not particularly monogamous about the ones that do draw me. I'll say Attolia Irene/Eugenides because of course, Vanessa Ives/Hecate Poole because it remains my favorite virtually unknown ship to champion, and Xena/Gabrielle because it is, after all, the greatest love story ever told (though I love all the other Xena ships too). First Ever Ship: Not sure. Contenders include Taran/Eilowny, Daine/Numair, Rosethorn/Lark and Coulter/Asriel. Last song: Partner and I were listening to the Tonight Quintet, the Johanna Quartet, and One Day More so he could explain to me from a music theory perspective why the first two work and the third doesn't, which is something I love to get him to do. Last movie: Werner Herzog's Fata Morgana. Currently reading: I am rereading a collected second volume of Tanith Lee's Tales of the Flat Earth (Delirium's Mistress and Night's Sorceries) very slowly because it feels like an extremely rich dessert. I just finished Shane McRae's memoir Pulling the Chariot of the Sun, which was excellent. Currently watching: Several extremely slow rewatches, because I haven't had the mental space to handle new-to-me tv - Xena (rewatch for both me and my partner, we're in season 3 presently), The Americans (rewatch for me, first time for my partner, we're in season 6), and Penny Dreadful (just started, I'm rewatching by myself) Currently consuming: August Uncommon's Dark Iris tea (oolong with pistachio, peach, and rose) Currently craving: Time and energy and leisure

Tagging, if you want: @liandrins-jawline, @elwing, @asimplecreature, @kareenvorbarra, @amourduloup, @juushika @pearlsthatwereeyes @idionkisson @amending-death

#personal #meme

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dandyshucks · 9 months

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Dandy/Juno/etc || 23 || they/it || Métis

hiya hello!! welcome to my silly little blog where I have a little silly fun rbing/talking about F/Os!! F/O list is under the cut way down there ⤵

I'm totally fine with sharing F/Os except for Guzma (if you tag all your posts abt him then you're a-okay to follow, I'll just block that specific tag)!

if you need to block me please just hardblock me - I have several disorders that affect my memory so if you softblock me I will likely just end up following again and I'd hate to be a pest that way!! no hard feelings, do what you gotta do!!

🔞 there might be (very rare) occasional suggestive posts, but those will be tagged accordingly for easy blacklisting! anything Actually nsfw will be over at my 18+ only sideblog @scandydandyshucks ! 🔞

I upload my selfship fics to AO3 now!

I also have a carrd with more info about me and this blog! And I have a neocities where I'm having a lot of fun creating my own site that's mainly dedicated to Guzma :3

📰 for posts about the ongoing genocide happening, please go to @piplupod my general account. please donate to gazafunds.com if you have the means!

🚫 People who ship pedophilic or incestual pairings and people who write/draw(/otherwise create) porn of children will be blocked, I have zero tolerance for any of that ! Also, the "fiction doesn't affect reality" crowd is strictly NOT welcome here ! 🚫

If you ever see me reblog from someone nasty, please let me know so I can go investigate and deal with it! ∑ദ്ദി˙◡･)

If you need anything tagged, feel free to ask - even with the memory issues, I'm usually pretty good at remembering to tag for things when asked directly ^-^

F/O list under the cut !!

F/O list:

Main F/O:

Guzma (pokemon) (tag: "💜so good at being in trouble", ship tag: "💜a boy and his bug🪲")

Other F/Os (from most active to least):

Wardell Hurst (OC) (tag: "🕯the warmth of your doorways")

Shota and Hizashi (bnha) (tags: "🖤napping in class" and "🧡hello radio land!", ship tag: "🖤one lucky listener🧡")

Rum Tum Tugger and Mistoffelees (cats the musical) (tags: "🌟only like what I find for myself" and "✨never was there a cat so clever")

Theodor and Philby (OCs) (tags: "🚪theodor" and "☎philby" and "🚪take me home☎")

Marc, Steven, Jake (moonknight) (tags: "🤍whatever it takes", "🤎float like a butterfly sting like a bee", "🩶the man in the rearview mirror", ship tag: "🌙systems overlapping🪲")

Sun and Moon (fnaf) (QPR?) (tags: "💛lights on!" and "💙nightlight")

CRUSHES:

Bart (Bartine) Curlish from DGHDA (tag: "🪚inmate qt 3.14")

Shane from SDV (tag TBA)

Senshi from dunmeshi (tag TBA)

Laios from dunmeshi ??? maybe ???? (tag TBA)

self insert tags:

pokemon: junebug🪲

cats: tickitywick⚙️

DL worldbuild: dandy🌻

general F/O posts are tagged with 💗

op tag: "dandy.cmd"

art tag: "doodlebug.png"

writing tag: "dandy.doc"

WIP tag: "doodlebug.jpeg"

vent tag: "vent //"

#dandy.cmd #doodlebug.png #pinned #dandy directory #dandy.doc

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lizzibennet · 10 months

Note

do you have any modern!Kathony fic recs for someone who usually has a hard time getting into modern aus for ships from period dramas/stories that take place during historical periods? :)

god anon i hope you have a lot of free time

sidelines by ramarro - “Kate sees Anthony's bumble profile and finds it very pretentious. It does not stop her from obsessively drawing his arms though. Until he starts dating her sister.” SIDELINES MY BELOVED!!!!!!! probably my favorite modern au (which is why i’m recommending it first). it’s just delightful. i don’t wanna give too much away just read it!!! i promise you will not be disappointed

most eligible by amalin (firstglances) - a ‘the bachelor’ au. if that means nothing to you don’t worry, it meant nothing to me too. you can get by with very little knowledge of the show besides the basic premise. i love this one

a supercut of us by joekavaliers - basically a buzzfeed unsolved au where kate is ryan and anthony is shane. probably more enjoyable if you already like bfu but it’s really funny

prima facie by katelai - kate, anthony and tom dorset are all famous actors starring in a new film. drama and speculation follow them because while kate and anthony are married and happy, anthony and tom are exes. this is really really good, super interesting, anddddd hot. this author has a bunch of really intriguing fics - i haven’t read all of them, but i really liked the ones i have! mind the tags though

just go with it by suitsusboth - kate jokingly selects the title of viscountess as she is booking a flight. much to her surprise, there is an actual viscount on board, so she’s moved to sit by her husband, because that’s obviously what they are. right?

operation: barista series by starkswinterfelling - OMG OPERATION BARISTA HIIIII. i love a good text fic tbh and this one is about all the sibs trying to get anthony and that cute barista from that coffee shop in their town, kate, together. so cute <33333

the little things you do by zegabz - flower shop au. kate finds a floral arrangement she made just as she is heading to a bar to meet up with friends. incidentally, the man who so rudely discarded the bouquet she made is there too. screams

it had to be you by zegabz - when harry met sally au. need i say more

june, after dark by stutteringpeach - edwina is friends with daphne whose wedding celebration is taking place in her grand fancy estate in the country, so obviously she drags kate along. daphne’s brother is very annoying, but also familiar to kate… hmmmmmm

soulmates au by teabrigadier - soulmate au in which the first words your soulmate will ever say to you show up on your wrist on your 18th birthday, and both kate and anthony have very decided opinions on their soulmates, since both of them have very asshole-y soulmate marks. there is an anthony pov and a kate pov!!

a place to rest by lookingforthestars - kate runs a little bed & breakfast. anthony shows up suddenly one late night. they go from there

you are the light that is blinding me by lookingforthestars - anthony is just one of kate’s vaguely dickish, annoying coworkers - until she starts eavesdropping on conversations between him and a mystery woman, and a side of him she was not aware of is revealed. peak idiots being idiots love them

i can’t find the words, so i guess it’s time by pentaghastly - k&a have a one night stand after much unresolved sexual tension. to kate’s surprise, he starts being a regular at her tea shop.

I could go on but lol

#anonymous #what is my ask tag again

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stinkiesdraws · 10 months

Note

Hiii!!!! I'm asking about Nora!!

How does Nora feel about other people from Pelican town? Like, does she like to contact them, is she friends with someone? I'm sorry if you've already written about it somewhere and I could have missed it, but I'm very interested!!!

Hiii!!! No need to apologize! Nora doesn't have much on her just yet! She's very shy and untrusting of others, so she doesn't have any CLOSE friends yet!

I picture she is rather close with Linus since they are hobo buddies 🤝 and Willy since she is rather good at fishing!

She might try really hard to be close with Marlon since she is paranoid about the monster hunters hunting her down. So she thinks if she is friendly and shows she's a good hunter 💪🏻 they might leave her alone.

And my bestie @gojo-stan aka the Sebastian writer for our little ocs, she says Sebastian and Nora might get along! Probably a slow burn friendship since they are both awkward and not the most social. Nora would teach him how to make bombs and they will first meet in the mines!!!

I was also picturing that all our ocs are friends eventually. Lyra being the most social one, she would actively go out of her way to become close with Nora because it is in her sparkle on Monday attitude ✨💪🏻

So once Lyra befriends Nora, she will branch off to other ppl, Reina, Amari, Sebastian, Alex and Shane 😭

As for a romantic interest 🤔 I still haven't thought or settled on anyone just yet... I'm debating on her either being with Harvey, or Elliott BUT FOR SOME REASON SAM IS REALLY WEIGHING IN....😭😭😭 So we will see!!!

Nora is very up in the air still since I haven't yet starter her file! I will be soon once the update drops hehehe

Sorrey for the bad drawing :'(

i haven't drawn in a while so I'm very rusty

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hannahssimblr · 7 months

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Chapter Twenty-Three (Part 3)

Tumblr hates nudity, so if you want all the pics go read this chapter on my blog

The house is in darkness when we arrive. Claire texted to let us know that she and Shane are going for some drinks in a bar and that we are welcome to join, but we don’t. We have other plans.

I am fixated on Jude the moment we go inside, and we don’t turn on the lights because the moonlight is strong enough. I’m nervous, adrenaline pumping through my veins with the sudden solemnity of the occasion. We don’t do anything at first, we just stand in the kitchen looking at one another, and his face is hard to see, silhouetted by the window behind him.

“My feet hurt,” I just want to have something to say, and for some reason that’s what I go with.

“Well take your shoes off.”

I bend down and unbuckle the thin straps, then straighten up holding onto them.

He shifts slightly, leaning into the counter, “Do you want me to make us tea or something?”

“No thanks”

“Alright.”

My heart flutters in my chest and my palms prickle, but I try very hard to stay still and to seem confident even when my whole body wants to tremble.

Jude’s expression is unreadable in the shadow, “I don’t want to take advantage of you, if you change your mind-”

“Well I want you to,” I say, and then, like a spell has broken, he crosses the room and kisses me fiercely, surprising me so much that my shoes drop to the terracotta tile with a hollow clatter. I fist my hands into his hair, and he winds his fingers into the back of mine too, overcome with intensity enough to squeeze a little too hard, “Ouch,” I whisper.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

He draws back and his eyes sweep over me, “Will you come to bed with me?”

“Okay,” I say and he threads his fingers with mine and squeezes them tightly. I find real comfort in the warm, steady solidity of his hand. I am safe, I am okay, I think, as he leads me up the stairs and into his bedroom.

Jude turns on the lamp on his bedside table and then takes off his shoes and his socks. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do I as I stand by the door, suddenly forgetting how to act normally in such a scenario.

He looks at me with amused intrigue, the way that I fidget with the straps of my dress, my hair, pull idly at a hangnail on my thumb. He comes to sit on the mattress across from me and his gaze travels over me slowly enough to have nerves and desire swirling in my belly. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” I bite my nail.

He gives me the kind of smile that would usually have me wanting to drag him onto the floor and out of his clothes, but I only felt that way at the times where we were kissing, and the kissing part was easy, I could be used to that part, good at it, even, but as I stand in the soft lamplight of this messy room all of the confidence I had at Aphrodite’s rock seems to evaporate. Suddenly the room feels too big and too silent, and even the crickets seem to have stopped chirping outside in the grass, and I wonder as I look at Jude if he’s feeling the same loneliness that I am, and if he feels like he’d die without me.

“Evie,” He says gently, “C’mere, I want you.”

I transverse the metre of space between us and he lifts his hands to hold me waist. “I like this dress a lot,” He says as he flips me around so I am facing the door, “It’s really nice on you.”

“But what?” I feel a smile creep up as he finds the zip, “You were thinking it’d be even nicer off me?”

He laughs, “You stole my line.” I slip the straps off my shoulders for him and the fabric drops to the floor. “But it’s true, it is nicer off you.”

When he turns me around to him again I meet his warm brown eyes and find the most unguarded expression I’ve ever seen on his face. “Evie, you are absolutely shockingly beautiful, I’m so crazy about you.” I draw in a long breath and let it out slowly to try and control the surge of emotion that has come over me. “Thank you.”

I let him guide me onto his lap where he grips my hip and the back of my neck and pulls me against him to kiss me, a slow, thorough exploration as he takes control, hands exploring the exposed parts of my body. I press into him as he fills his palms with the soft flesh of my breasts through the lace of my bra, and I can feel what it’s doing to him.

“You okay?” He murmurs, and I tell him yes, just as he puts me onto the bed and comes down on top of me. It’s all so exciting, the hands sinking into my hair, the lips on my neck, the feeling of his cotton trousers on my inner thighs, “You’re so hard,” I whisper with a thrill, and he lets out a chuckle against my throat that I feel vibrate all the way through my body, and maybe he’s laughing at how innocent I sound, but there’s nothing mocking about it. It’s comforting.

“Yes,” He says.

I unbutton his shirt and flatten my hands over his tanned chest, flat, solid, “Because of me.”

“Of course,” he gently tugs down the front of my knickers and all of a sudden he is there, fingers sliding through me. I let out a shallow moan as he captures my mouth again with his soft, warm lips. Pleasure arches through me and I practically tear his shirt from his shoulders to throw it somewhere, towards the end of the bed, maybe, who knows. “You remember what I showed you,” I say.

“Because I think about it several times a day,” he dips a finger shallowly into me and I sink down on his hand in search of more. “And it’s pure torture for me, just like it is when you’re in my bed and I know I can’t do all of the things I wish that I could.”

I reach out and touch the front of his trousers. I can’t help it, I’m curious, and I’m rewarded with a new expression that I’ve never seen before as he throws his neck back in surrender. “Okay, wait, wait,” he chuckles and knocks my hand away “Let me do you first.”

“You did me first the last time,” I point out, “And then you just went to sleep.”

“Mm, yes, I know,” he says, and he hooks his fingers into the waistband of my underwear and yanks them clean off. To my complete surprise he positions his head between my thighs instead of his hand. “Any preferences?” He asks while I gasp and immediately move my hand to cover myself. “I don’t know.” The warmth of his breath flutters against me, and the mattress squeaks as he leans in to kiss the backs of my fingers. “Nobody’s done this?”

“No.”

“I could be the first to show you?” I look down at him and think about how every woman swears it’s amazing, earth shattering, life changing, but my self-consciousness stopped me from asking for it before. It felt far too intimate, and the idea of a man eyeing me right in the vulva gave me the gick, but it’s Jude, he’s offering, and even the sensation of his breath on me is making my pulse skip. “Yes, alright,” I say, because what’s life without a bit of adventure?

He gently peels my fingers away and cups the backs of my knees to spread them wider, and when he kisses me there with slow intention I feel like I’ve just unlocked a secret understanding of something all women knew before now except for me. The feeling is indescribable. My eyes slam shut, and I fist one hand into his hair and the other onto the sheets as he cradles my hips as he flicks his tongue over me, and it almost feels too good, too intense, too consuming, and I doubt there’s ever been a time in my life that I’ve truly thought about nothing, worried about nothing and experienced only overwhelming pleasure. How have I lived without this for so long?

“Jude, that feels amazing,” I manage, and he responds with a self satisfied “Mm,” because he already knows that he’s turning me to syrup. I’d scold him for being arrogant, but I am too busy with my throaty little moans that words don’t come out. My insides coil tighter and tighter like a spring, my muscles lock, and I splinter into a million glittering fragments, realising only after a few moments that the soft sobs I am hearing are coming from me.

“Evie,” Jude says, and he wraps his arms around me in a tight hug, stroking my hair as I bury my face in his neck. When my damp lashes hit his skin do I realise I am really crying. “That was so good.”

“Is that why you’re crying?”

I laugh and cling to him while my breathing slows, “It’s good crying,” all the while he strokes circles on my back and likely feels pleased with himself, still, I feel like he deserves some attention too. I cup my hand over the front of his trousers and enjoy the way his heart skips up while my ear is still pressed to his chest.

“That what you want to do?” He says.

“You act so selfless, like it’s all about me. Let me do things to you too.”

His eyebrow quirks up, “Like what things?” he says, as though for some reason he wants to hear me saying them out loud.

A shiver passes through me and I feel my face get hot as I wriggle away from him to sit facing him on the bed, “I want to touch you,” I say, “and I want you to…”

He raises his eyebrows expectantly.

“Well obviously I want you to fuck me.”

His stomach sucks inward with a surprised breath, “Fuck you?” He echoes, “I didn’t expect you to use that word.”

“Which did you think I’d say? Make love?”

A laugh. “Maybe, yeah.”

“You don’t really seem like the kind of man who does that, though.”

“What,” he says with that smug smile again, and I know I’m only feeding his ego. He is delighted with himself. “So I seem like I fuck?”

“Yeah, I suppose. Is that alright that I’ve said that?”

“Yeah,” He leans in to kiss me, and with this new encouragement from him, the knowledge that he finds the things I am saying appealing, I tell him, “You can do whatever you want to me.” The look on his face is a bit insane after that.

“That’s a pretty intensely sexy thing to say,” he says, trying to sound casual, and as though testing my boundaries he traces his thumb along my lower lip and gently slides it into my mouth. Without thinking I close my lips around it and he hisses through his teeth. He doesn’t tear his eyes away from me as he holds my chin, gliding his thumb experimentally against my tongue, grazing against my teeth, out to my lips and back in again. It’s weird, it’s strangely intimate and I like the things it does to him. When I imagine the things he might be thinking about me now, about how I am so beautiful and so sexy with such gorgeous lips and a smooth, wet mouth I start to feel very turned on again. The idea of his approval is the most appealing thing I can possibly imagine.

A finger trails a long, lazy path down the centre of my throat and hooks into the front band of my bra. “Can we get rid of this?” He wonders.

I quickly try to undo it, but I already feel like I’m beginning to come apart again. With frustration at my fumbling hands I wonder why I can’t do very simple things. Jude already has one hand on his belt, but he reaches the other behind my back to quickly unhook it for me. It springs open and I can’t help it, I start to snicker. “Clearly at least one of us has done that before.”

“Not me,” he says innocently, “I actually learned that from a YouTube video.”

“God, stop,” I roll my eyes, “Why do you do that act?”

His hands are back on his buckle. The leather hisses through the loops of his trousers, “What act?” It thuds to the floor.

“Like you haven’t spent the whole of your teens and twenties having indiscriminate sex with a million eager women. I know you, you’re trying to be humble, but I know.”

“Not a million, a thousand, maybe. Does that make you feel better?” He works on the button and zip and begins pushing his trousers over his hips. My mouth goes dry. “How many, really?”

He glances at me and I realise that this is an annoying question for him, “I don’t care how many, I just care about how much I’d like to be doing it with you.”

I am still holding the cups of my bra to my breasts, but once he’s shaken his trousers from his ankles and onto the ground he reaches for it and throws it over his shoulder. All of a sudden I am completely naked in front of him, and the gravity of that fact has me drawing a deep, steadying breath. His eyes slide over me like a physical caress from my face all the way to my legs, lingering long enough on my breasts that I idly wonder if he’s a Boob Man. “Your body is incredible,” he says, which is the soft of thing that’s only sexy in an American accent, and he leans forward to kiss me onto the bed.

With just the fabric of his boxers separating us I can feel everything as I rub myself up against him, and feel flushed with heat all over again as he grabs my hips and guides me to meet his shallow thrusts.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispers, to himself, maybe, or to me, and I am obsessed with this version of him, wild, unfettered, and I feel it too, the pulses of pleasure in my body have me teetering on the edge. Fresh desire crashes over me and a flame ignites inside my body. I hardly even know what I’m doing as I claw at him for more, then snake my hand between us to dip inside his boxers and touch him.

He exhales loudly and I wonder, as I wrap my hand around him, how we went from a lighthearted mood to this in a matter of minutes. I love him like this, with hot, eager breaths against my neck, hands clamped on my hips making those delicious sounds he made before, only last time in the dark where I could only imagine the beautiful blissful expressions on his face. This time I can watch them happen. It’s real.

His control seems to falter as he kisses me again, hard, insistent, his tongue thrusting against mine, and suddenly he tears my hand away from him, “I can’t,” He pants, holding both my hands against the bed next to my head, “I won’t last like that, sorry, will you let me- can I-”

I tell him yes, because I know what he is asking me, and he is out of his boxers then, and my heart is thumping wildly at the brief sight of all of him and his intimidating length. It happens so quickly. He grasps my hip and pushes my knee wider, “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Condom?”

“No, please, I-”

Then he is inside me, slowly, cautiously, as he checks my face for signs of discomfort.

“It feels really good,” I say, to myself or to reassure him, I’m not sure.

“Yeah,” he says, “It does.”

Once, I didn’t understand how people would say things like “it just happened,” as though they’d lost control of their roller skates on a hill while wearing no knickers and landed in his lap, or something. It seemed ridiculous because sex, to me, was something to be considered, agonised over, painstakingly led up to, talked over, but now I understand those impulsive girls because it has just happened to me. It is just happening, and the fact that it could just happen is obvious. This is a natural thing, we’re built to do this, and I, Evie, am especially built to do this with Jude.

I had fantasy once about how sleeping with him would be a spiritual experience, two gorgeous bodies joining together in the most unimaginably beautiful way, and perhaps there’d be soft music in my head, voile curtains undulating in a gentle breeze, and he would cradle me like I was precious and tell me I’m exquisite, but the reality isn’t remotely like that. It is more desperate, sweatier, noisier, more frantic, and still somehow infinitely better than the version I had envisioned. His breaths are ragged, sweat beads on his forehead, he holds on to me hard, kisses me hard, and when his voice cracks and his moan splinters in desperation it turns me on so much that my eyes roll back. I didn’t know that actually happened. I thought that was just something people said.

It pulls me under like a wave. I cling to his shoulder, fist my hand in his hair, make sounds that I’d ordinarily be way too embarrassed to make but am too mindless to care about, and the headboard bangs against the wall, sweat-slicked skin meets sweat-slicked skin and Jude murmurs unintelligible things into my neck and every movement and adjustment feels a thousand times better than the last. When he tells me to touch myself because he is close I can feel that my eyes are wet again because this is visceral and perfect. We are meant to be together. And before I come in hard, violent bursts I think about how I was wrong for ever thinking anything should be different.

Later on, in the quiet of the wee hours of the morning, after Claire and Shane have long come home and tucked themselves into bed, and when the tiniest glow of the sunrise peeks above the distant mountains I rest my head on Jude’s chest while he traces shapes along the line of my back. I have never been more tired in my life, and yet I’m afraid to sleep, because if I sleep it will be tomorrow and that will mean he’ll be leaving.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks me.

“Dublin,” I admit glumly, “Reality.”

“Evie, no.”

“I can’t help it.”

“Well maybe it’ll be nice to get back to your routine.”

“The idea of my boring routine kind of makes me sick, honestly,” I say. “How can I be expected to go back to that now?”

“Now that we’ve finally done it?” I know he is smiling without having to look at him, “You know I’m kind of thinking the same. Maybe we should have held off tearing each other’s clothes off, because now that I know what it’s like I don’t know how I’ll go without it. Honestly there’s nothing sexy about my final project either, the idea of being in that dead, white studio after being on this island…”

“I didn’t know sex could be like that. The second time when we-”

“Yeah I know,” He says, and bites his lip, “You know, I might have the energy for a third round.”

I glance up at him, “Are you joking?”

“Yeah for sure.”

I laugh sleepily, “We went four years without tearing off each other’s clothes though, we can manage another month.”

“Barely,” He adds, “The way I see it we actually have four years to make up for, so like, if we do it four times a day for the next year-”

“Four times a day?”

“More? We could condense it down to eight, nine months maybe if we do it maybe six times-”

“You’re winding me up,” I snuggle into his chest. “I didn’t think you were such a fiend.”

“I’m not usually, I think I’m just a bit freaked out about having to live the eunuch lifestyle for a whole month.”

“Highly dramatic language.”

“I’ll miss you!”

“And I’ll miss you, but we’ll be fine, trust me.”

“If you say so.”

“I know so,” I say, “and I’ve been thinking about it, and actually, you and I are used to being apart, it’ll be easy for us, now-” I stifle a yawn, “Please, let’s try and go to sleep, we’ve to be up in about three hours.”

“Okay,” He whispers, “can I have one more kiss for the road?”

“Needy,” I say, but of course, I kiss him anyway. He makes it damn impossible not to.

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#lucky girl part 3 #tw: sex #sorry about the piccies!#i guess they only add a lil spice - the flavour is in the prose #use your imagination hehe

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biggerbetterbat · 1 year

Text

WITH YOU [6] HELICOPTER BOY

Summary: Glenn is finally back and he brings another person to the camp. The group faces another problem.

Warnings: idk, language probably

Song: Silly Girl chloe moriondo

DAYLIGHT ON WATTPAD

The first thing they heard was the loudest car alarm that you could think of. It was echoing through the mountains, and in a second Dale was on his feet - like everyone else- on top of his RV. He had his binoculars up and was looking around the area.

"Talk to me, Dale." said Shane.

"Nothing yet." he said, still looking around.

They were all prepared to fight in case someone wanted to harm them. It was difficult to determine the direction and source of the noise due to the mountains.

"Is it them? Are they back?"

"I'll be damned." Dale smiled lightly.

"What is it?" asked Amy who was very nervous.

"Stolen car is my guess," Dale replied.

Before Charlie had a chance to say something, Glenn pulled up in a red sports car. He had a big grin on his face and his posture said that he was relaxed. The car looked like one that Charlie was being driven in by all those guys she was dating. He looked excited, not like a person who was stuck and surrounded just hours ago.

"You need a ride, baby?" those were the first words she heard as an Asian boy left his car.

"Silly." she smiled and hugged him.

"Told you I will be back. And you have to say that it's the coolest way to come back," he said and put an arm around her shoulder.

"Holy crap, turn that damn thing off!" Dale shouted in annoyance.

"I don't know how!" Glenn said.

"Pop the hood please," said Shane, coming to the car.

"My sister Andrea..." Amy almost tackled Glenn.

"Pop the damn hood, please?" Shane said through gritted teeth. "Pop the damn hood please!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah! Okay!" Glen was trying to shout over Amy while sitting in the car to do what Shane wanted.

"Is she okay? Is she alright?" Amy asked.

"YES." screamed an Asian boy, who couldn't bear the tension. "Yeah, she's okay! She's okay."

"Is she coming back?"Amy asked him another question.

"Yes!" he nodded.

"Why isn't she with you? Where is she? She's okay?"

"Yes!" was all he said to her yet another question.

"Amy, just give him space to breathe." Lori interrupted. "Andrea will be back."

"Yeah, she's fine," Glenn said with a smile that faded from his lips. "Everybody is. Well, Merle not so much."

Charlie furrowed her eyebrows, but her friend just gave her a sign that he would tell her everything later.

"Are you crazy driving this wailing bastard up here? You trying to draw every walker for miles?" Shane said nervously, leaning on the opened mask of the car.

"I think we're okay," said Dale.

"You call being stupid okay?" Shane furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at the older man.

"Well, the alarm was echoing all over those hills. Hard to point the source," he said and when he saw angry eyes of a cop on him, he added. "I'm not arguing, I'm just saying." Then he turned to Glenn and furrowed his eyebrows. "It wouldn't hurt you to just think things through a little more carefully next time, would it?"

"Sorry." he nodded his head with remorse, but as soon as he turned to look at Charlie he smiled, excitement pouring through the pores of his skin."Got a cool car."

She chuckled, happy that he found another bright side to the end of the world.

Van pulled up just a second later. More people leaving a car and hugging with their loved ones. It was a good sight, but Charlie saw how Lori was hugging Carl closer to her. The boy was crying, clearly sad that it's not his dad that is back.

"Amy!"

"Andrea!"

"Oh thank God," Charlie whispered looking up, so Glenn shoved her in the arm with a smile.

"You're a welcome sight." smiled Dale. "I thought we'd lost you folks for sure."

"We left him on a roof. Merle." said quietly, Glenn. "The new guy handcuffed him there because he was gonna put us all in danger," explained Asian.

"New guy?"

"How'd you all get out of there anyway?" asked Shane.

"New guy," repeated Glenn. "He got us out."

"New guy?" Dale asked with furrowed eyebrows.

"Yeah." Morales replied."Crazy vato just got into town. Hey! Helicopter Boy, come say hello!" he yelled to someone who was still near a van and looked at Shane. "He's a cop, like you."

Suddenly, Carl ran past her and straight into the arms of the new guy. All they could hear were sobs and words of love. Charlie's heart swelled as she watched the man kneel with his son in his arms, holding him tightly. Lori seemed shocked and slowly made her way over to her husband, embracing him. They all cried tears of joy together. Meanwhile, Shane stood there looking lost and attempting to conceal his emotions. He appeared devastated and bewildered, struggling to believe what he was seeing. However, when Lori's husband looked at him, he smiled.

As everyone huddled around the fire, Rick shared his incredible story. It was hard to believe that someone could endure so much, waking up alone in a hospital bed with no knowledge of what was happening outside. His voice trembled with confusion, but his determination to find his family never wavered. The new guy seemed kind-hearted with gentle features and was quite handsome and well-built - not as much as Shane, but still impressive. Lori was incredibly lucky to have him by her side.

Suddenly, a crackling sound interrupted her thoughts. Ed Peletier had just thrown another log onto the fire, and Shane watched with anger as sparks flew into the night sky.

"Hey, Ed." he said, trying to be calm."You wanna rethink that log?"

"It's cold man." he just shrugged.

"Cold doesn't change the rules, does it?"

Rick was confused about the whole thing and looked at his wife."Rules?"

"Keep our fires low, just embers, so we can't be seen from a distance, right?" Shane got up to kind of show off, making it clear that he's the leader, he's the boss.

"I said it's cold. Why don't you mind your own business for once?" Ed said back, annoyed.

"Sure you wanna have this conversation, man?"

"Go on. Pull the damn thing out, go on." Ed mumbled under his nose.

When two men were fighting, Carol walked up to the fire and took out the log from it. When she placed it on the ground, Shane stepped on it to prevent the flame from spreading. Then he crouched next to a mother and her daughter.

"Hey Carol, Sophia how are y'all this evening?" he asked kindly, not to scare any of them.

"Fine." Carol answered quietly."Just fine."

"Okay."

"Sorry about the fire," she said so quickly it was almost a whisper.

"No, no." Shane said abruptly."No apology needed. Y'all have a good night, okay?" he said and as he was getting up he added. "I appreciate the cooperation."

When everyone was seated back in their places and silence became overwhelming, Dale decided to ask the crucial question. "Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon? He won't be happy to hear his brother was left behind."

Daryl was still out on a hunt. He left again, soon after they came back from looking for berries and was gone till now. It was not unusual for the hunter to spend a night in the woods, so his absence went unnoticed. However, today everyone seemed relieved that Daryl was gone because that gave them time to come up with a plan, they could choose a poor person, who would break the news to him.

"I'll tell him." said T-Dog. "I dropped the key. It's on me."

"I cuffed him. That makes it mine." said Rick, while caressing hair of Carl, who was laying on his legs.

"Guys, it's not a competition." interrupted them Glenn. "I don't mean to bring race into this, but it might sound better coming from a white guy."

"I did what I did." T-Dog shrugged. "Hell if I'm gonna hide it from him." he added.

"We could lie." proposed Amy.

And that would be the best option. They would make up a story, that wouldn't make Daryl as angry as the truth would make him, and everyone would be just fine.

But...

Charlie thought about her brothers. If she was in a place like Daryl, she would like to know what really happened. Because that would give her hope. Hope that she will see them again, talk to them again, just be with them. Or confirm that they are dead. Charlie would give everything to know where were her brothers.

"Or tell the truth," she said right after Amy.

"Yeah. Merle was out of control. Something had to be done or he'd gotten us killed." said Andrea and looked at Lori. "Your husband did what was necessary. And if Merle got left behind, it's nobody's fault but Merle's," she added, sure of her opinion of course.

"And that's what we tell Daryl?" asked Dale skeptically. "I don't see a rational discussion to be had from that, do you?" he looked at everyone's faces. He sighed and looked into the fire. "Word to the wise, we're going to have our hands full when he gets back from his hunt."

"I was scared and I ran," said T-Dog. "I'm not ashamed of it."

"We were all scared. We all ran. What's your point?" Andrea asked him.

"I stopped long enough to chain that door. The staircase is narrow. Maybe half a dozen geeks can squeeze against it at any one time. It's not enough to break through that. Not that chain. Not that padlock." he said. "My point: Dixon's alive. He's still up there, handcuffed on that roof. That's on us."

Charlie's heart fluttered with gratitude as she was lying in the tent, knowing that Glenn was back. The relief washed over her, knowing he was safe. Thoughts swirled in her mind about the newcomer, Rick Grimes, and what his presence might mean for their group. Would he bring trouble or much-needed assistance? It was already clear that his presence bothered Shane, who was an alpha in this camp - and had an affair with Rick's wife. His arrival might disrupt the delicate dynamics within the camp. Would he challenge their leadership? Bring conflicts they couldn't afford? Her mind raced with scenarios, each one more unsettling than the last. But those thoughts faded into the background as she heard the familiar footsteps of her friend Glenn entering the tent. She couldn't see him, only his dark silhouette in the darkness.

"Thank God, I'm here," he whispered, knowing she was awake.

"Yeah. I was worried," she answered. "I thought you died and I will never see you again," Charlie confessed.

Glenn turned in his sleeping bag, so they were facing each other. "I thought it was my last day today," he said. "I thought about you. I almost cried at the thought that Merle Dixon would be the last thing I see."

She chuckled.

"And then I saw this guy dressed in a uniform with a cowboy hat. Riding a horse through Atlanta. Probably every Walker in the city running after him. We saw him getting stuck in a trunk." he said. "I really didn't think much about helping him. I just did."

"You really are a hero Glenn," she said. "You sure you were pizza boy before? Not a Batman or something?"

He rolled his eyes, even though she couldn't see it, but he knew she knew he did it.

Silence fell between them. Both of them breathing calmly.

"What do you think, how will Daryl react?"

Charlie sighed. "I don't know," she said. "We don't know how we should even tell him that. We don't know who should do it. We know nothing."

This time Glen sighed.

"I feel sorry for him. He seems like a good guy."

"Daryl Dixon?"

"Yeah," Charlie said. "He helped me when you were gone. He has good eyes."

"You're like friends now?" asked Glenn.

"I'm not really sure he had any friends. I think Merle is the only one he has ever had." she shared her thoughts with her friend. "That makes this situation even more sad."

Glenn sat up a little, leaning on his elbows.

"You really are worried about Daryl." he more stated than asked.

"I also have brothers...well, had brothers," she said. "We were close like that, so I know what he might feel."

Rhee laid back.

"Then maybe you should tell him," he said before turning his back to her. "Night, Charlie."

"Mmm." She nodded and soon fell asleep.

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#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl twd #daryl dixon twd #daryl the walking dead #daryl dixon series

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