#so sorry to any twd fans out there

[kinkymagnus]

Do you have any like... guilty pleasure or unapologetically self-indulgent story ideas that you will probably never write, but they keep popping up in your mind? Because I do. Like,... lots! Some are pretty out there, actually. Like, I *love* found family stories using crossover fandoms. I have this one particular bunny hopping around in my head about a non-supernatural, non-apocalypse, completely normal human AU crossover with Shadowhunters and Walking Dead, where young adult Daryl Dixon found a teenaged Magnus about to jump to his death, prevented that, and kinda became a father figure to him. (I know that sounds stupid, but it's a lot more detailed and involved in my head and it actually kinda works) And when Magnus introduces his boyfriend to Daryl, Alec is kinda shocked, because a redneck (I actually don't like the word 'redneck' but I can't find something better to describe it?), swearing, rough looking biker guy just wasn't what he expected Magnus kinda father to be. XD (Alec and Daryl may end up bonding over archery, though.)

okay i know literally nothing about the walking dead other than "zombie show; people die in it" but like the image of like. i just have this image of alec being like okay, meet the parents, i'm sure that this is fine and won't go horribly wrong

and then yeah, he has no idea what he's expecting but it isn't this like. biker/trucker looking motherfucker in plaid or whatever. he's like. ah? okay. i mean. cool

and i'm sorry for some reason my brain glossed right over non supernatural au but i was still picturing some weird amalgamation with mundane alec/i guess younger or non immortal magnus but whatever the case what i next pictured was

[alec meets magnus's birth dad, asmodeous, who is a demon prince] okay, see, at first glance, this is more what i expected. the whole elegant royalty vibe. but this guy's a bitch, so

(as in--i have no idea what daryl is like but from this description for some reason i was picturing bobby from supernatural? which i haven't seen since i was like 14? and therefore was picturing someone pretty like. kind, if seemingly like, externally rough--alec's like "okay one of your dads is a nice person as i expected but the opposite of what i expected otherwise, while the other is the inverse of that. weird")

anyway where this ended up in my brain was alec going (extremely awkwardly) "so... your dads. are they...........divorced?" and magnus nearly having an aneurysm as he realizes alec thinks asmodeous and daryl/not-bobby-from-supernatural-i'm-so-sorry-i-brought-supernatural-into-this are like. A Thing. i assume daryl is offended (playfully) at this assumption.

anyway to answer your initial question, yes, i have all sorts of self indulgent guilty pleasure fic ideas, including weird crossovers or fusions that barely even work, but i can't think of any examples at the moment i'm afraid

[victoria-grimesss]

Hi ❤️🥰🫶🏻 I really love your writing style and enjoy all your content. Sorry if this is a bothersome question but your name and Norman profile picture made me curious…. Would you be willing to write some headcanons for Daryl? Hope you have a nice week 🙏🏻

Daryl Dixon Headcanons SFW & NSFW

masterlist ->Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader ->Warning: MDNI! fluff and some smut ->A/N: Thanks for the request, TWD was my first fandom so I’m always down to write for it, especially Daryl. :) I just did some general Fem!Reader ones since that's what I mainly write for but DO let me know if there's any other specific ones you'd like to see. I also hope you have a nice week! Sorry this took so long!

SFW:

He would show affection through acts of service, (getting you something you needed during a run, fixing something around the house that you mentioned was broken, or cleaning your gun if you were too busy to do it. He has a lot to think about throughout the day, but he keeps tabs on things you like or need, he’s always thinking about you.

Around Alexandria when you both were there you would both spend a-lot of time in silence together just being in each others presence. He would be working on his bike and you would be reading a book just being together.

In general, there becomes an almost rhythm to your relationship, you walk together, eat together, go on runs together, most of the time you both just enjoy simply being together. Having the privilege to be alive and be next to one other. Eventually people start assuming one doesn't go somewhere without the other, "Y/N and Daryl this, Y/N and Daryl that. It's cute.

Not a fan of PDA, he was never that kind of person but he likes it when you fix a piece of his hair that's out of line, or adjust his vest so it sits better on him. He likes to know you care, he does get butterflies when you call him handsome even though he doesn't show it. Aside from a little smile and a dip of his head, "You don't know what you're talkin' bout girl.

He always admires your strength, you've made it this far and he admires the skills you've picked up along the way. Someone is doing something wrong that you're a pro at? "You're doing that wrong ya know, let me get Y/N, she'll show you how to do it right."

He always had a crush on you, always was looking out for you. You caught his eyes lingering quite some times over the campfire before you were both together, he's look away quick but he knew you saw. What can he say, he loved seeing you blush.

Once you're together he's less reserved about his staring and you'll catch his eyes roaming your body more than a couple times.

Not a master in flirting whatsoever but when he held out his hand, arm all the way outstretched to give you a bundle of wildflowers you were a goner. "Got ya these, said you liked em' found some while I was out."

He's a light sleeper but he loves to lay on your chest and feel you run your fingers through his hair it knocks him out in five minutes minimum.

Will avoid the regular medics in town and just come right to you, you've stitched him up for this long and he likes it when you fix him up and scold him at the same time for not being more careful.

"D, honey this is going to need stiches.."

"I know, you can just do it, you do it the same way as the doctors anyway."

"Fine, just- only if you get some antibiotics. Can't have you dying on me from a fuckin infection."

"Yea whatever you want girl."

Knows you can handle yourself but he always has an eye out for you when you're out on runs or outside the walls.

Boosts his ego when you ask him to flex and you swoon.

You both never got properly married, you haven't gotten around to finding rings but when a new group entered the town you just said you were his wife for simplicities sake and because why not you've been together so long and everyone else thinks of you two married. Loves hearing people call you Y/N Dixon.

NFSW:

He's home late often, it's a normal occurrence but sometimes when he's gone for a good long while and you hear his boots finally trudging up the stairs you get a little giddy, butterflies filling your stomach and you grow warmer just thinking about having him back in bed.

This can go one of two ways; number one is you welcome him into bed slowly, it's raining and he's cold to the bone just wanting to warm up with you. The room is dark and only the moonlight illuminates his broad shoulders as his body leans over yours, hips rolling into you with a smooth and rhythmic motion. His arms caging you in so your whole field of vision and mind is filled with him. His head would dip to your ear, teeth biting at your neck. "Missed ya', thought about you a lot on the way back."

The second way is when he's frustrated, the run didn't go how he wanted, didn't find enough, he's pent up more than usual and you welcome his release of energy with open arms. He's got one hand on your hips and the other gripping the headboard, knuckles turned white from gripping it trying to maintain some kind of composure when he's driving himself deeper inside you, eyes dark as your nails bite at his chest. Damp hair hanging in his face and the room is filled with the noise of your heavy breathing and the wetness between the both of you. "You like that? Fuck, yea ya do."

He prefers being together in the privacy of your own home, where he can put his undivided attention all on you. But that doesn't mean you both don't get creative.. you've fucked in almost every room, you both agreed the attic was just too out there, insulation is the biggest mood killer.

He's always been a man for quick showers, get clean and get out. But one time you were both on a time crunch and you had a great idea to share the shower, save water right? He couldn't keep his eyes off of you, the way the soap and water kept gliding over your body had him hard in like 0.5 seconds so needless to say you were late, something about making out underneath the stream of water added something he couldn't get enough of. Bruises on the back of your thighs from him fucking you against the shower wall lingered for some time.

He loves seeing you get ready in the morning, he's got the perfect view from the bed into the bathroom to watch the whole process, sometimes if he's feeling extra needy he'll come into the bathroom and gently bend you over, bringing himself out of his sweatpants and watching your face through the mirror as he slides himself in.

More than once he's thought about you riding him on his bike, with you just wearing his vest. While it's stationary of course, he's not that reckless.

Definitely does not care if you're on your period, you really think a little blood will stop him if you both want each other? Hell no. He didn't understand why you thought it was an issue the first time it came up.

Not incredibly jealous but it creeps in on him sometimes, when a new guy shows you a little more attention than he liked he gets cold with you later that day. Not because he thinks you'll cheat on him or the guy might make a move but that he thinks he himself isn't good enough for you, which you just won't stand for so on a few separate occasions you'll set him down on the couch and get down on your knees and remind him how much you love him.

He's a man that respects his woman so he's more than happy to return the favor, hands held tight on your thighs that are wrapped around his head, his tongue darting around and his lips wrapping around you and pulling his favorite noises from you. "Look at you, fuck, gonna cum for me? Atta girl."

He's careful about where he finishes, he wants nothing more than to dive completely into you and let you take all of him but if you're both not ready for what may come from that he's fine with painting your stomach or more preferably your chest, he's a tits guys for sure.

Aftercare is quiet and calm with him, both of you cleaned up and your head on his chest, the window is open to cool you both down and so the smoke from his after sex cigarette can sneak out.

[ghostboneswrites2]

Lots of love if you write this, and lots of love if you don’t!

Could you do a Daryl x reader where at first he doesn’t like her, and she tries to get to know why hes so mean to her? Maybe he yells at her and then some comfort after?

Note: this is a cute idea! I might write a different version of this one later <3 not sure how I feel about it. This ended up a lot more angst and has a lot more of an argument than I originally intended tbh

Another note: I usually write in past tense but this one has both past and present tense. It’s lightly proofread but I apologize if I missed any errors in past vs present tense!

Summary: Every since he first saw you he’s seemingly had it out for you. All that frustration comes to a head when you have to go rescue him from the side of the road.

18+ MDNI || WARNINGS: Daryl bring a Dickson, profanity, TWD typical non graphic violence, guns

        Daryl stepped into the RV for a gun, shaking his head with annoyance at the sight of your failure. Well, multiple failures. See, you started with a standard Glock, but the recoil spring in that one was too hard to set in place. Then, you switched to the Beretta, where you found your current firing pin spring issue. 

        Daryl stared down at all the bits and pieces sprawled on the table in front of you. 

        “Y’gon’ take every damn gun apart ‘til we ain’t got none when we need ‘em?” He complained. You glared. 

        “Well, excuse me if taking apart guns to clean them wasn’t my hobby of choice before shit hit the fan.” You shot back. 

        That day was the beginning of a long standing feud between the two of you. A feud that was frankly one sided. You never had a problem with the smelly hunter. In fact, you often made meager attempts at impressing him or even going as far as to be friendly. Unfortunately, you were always met with rude snark and bitterness. 

        One time, at the CDC, you had a little too much wine with dinner. You were stumbling through the hall, attempting to find the room you had previously claimed, when you had the misfortune of walking right into Daryl. 

        “Oh! I’m sorry.” You giggled. 

        “Damn it.” He grumbled with an annoyed sigh. “Can’t ya watch where the hell you’re goin’?”

        “I’m sorry, really—“ You tried to apologize again but he had no intentions of hearing it.

        “Don’t drink if ya can’t handle yourself.” He snapped. “Got the dead roamin’ the damn earth and you get shit-faced the first damn chance ya get!”

        In your drunken, emotional state, you sniffled and cried quietly to yourself that night. Why was he always so damn mean? You missed your friends and family so much, and you couldn’t even bare to think about your cat.

        When Sophia got lost everything was worse. You’d offer to help with the search and you’d always hear the same response; “I already got one little kid to look for. I don’t need two.” 

        You also tried to console him when Sophia’s body came staggering out of that barn. 

        “You’re a great tracker, Daryl. We were all just too late.” You’d say. 

        “Ain’t no we! You didn’t do shit but stay back and twiddle your fuckin’ thumbs! Get on somewhere. I don’t need your caudlin’.”

        When the farm fell, he’d always snap at you for lagging behind the group when you were on the move. You couldn’t help it. You were so tired and hungry.  

        “Keep up, damn it. Can’t afford to keep slowin’ down!” 

        When you were all clearing the prison, he wouldn’t even let you shoot. 

        “Jus’ stay back and hit the fence. Distract ‘em. You can’t shoot for shit.” 

        Since then, you reasoned to just avoid him. You’d never met anyone who could make you feel so bad about yourself. You decided to stop asking yourself why he hated you. You weren’t going to try and change it anymore. You were just going to exist the best you could, as far away from him as the prison yard would allow. 

          Which brings us to now. Inventory is your main task at the prison. Some people make it hard. Carl never checks out his weapons, nor does Daryl. But with Carl losing his mom and Daryl being such an ass, you never say anything. You just make notes on the weapons they’re most likely to take without telling you. 

        Beth sometimes grabs formula without letting you know, but taking care of a baby is hard work for a teenage girl to be doing full time. You have no intentions of nagging her. So, as usual, you just check your inventory every day and report to Rick or Hershel, usually the latter. 

        When your inventory is done for the afternoon, you decide to find Carol and help her with laundry. Maggie is on the tower today with Glenn, so she’s all by herself out there scrubbing everyone’s smelly clothes. 

        “Hey. Need some help?” You ask her, pressing your lips into a thin smile. She returns the same expression and nods. 

        “Please? For such a small group we sure go through a lot of clothes.”

        “No problem.” You say as you get down on your knees and begin scrubbing and ringing out a pair of jeans. “Jeez. These really stink.” You mumble. Carol giggles. 

        “Daryl.” She sighs. 

        “Does he ever shower?” 

        “I mean.. never would be a strong word. Rarely, though, that might be the accurate description.” She jokes. You chuckle.

        “Hey, (Y/N)?” Rick asks as he approaches you. You look up from Daryl’s stained jeans. “Could you take a car out to the main road? Daryl’s broken down out there. He can’t carry all those supplies back.” 

        “Me?” You raise your eyebrows, tossing a quick glance to Carol. If anyone is accustomed to your strained relationship with the archer, it’s her. Daryl would often complain about you to her, and she’d just as often give you a reassuring pat on the shoulder when she’d notice his harsh treatment. 

        “Well, yeah, if ya don’t mind.” Rick nods. He is a little more oblivious to how rude Daryl can be toward you, but he isn’t  blind to the visible tension the two of you share. He just assumes it was never that serious. 

        “Um.. Sure.” You shrug. A pit in your stomach is already festering, growing bigger as it feeds on your anxiety. You had been very successful at avoiding Daryl since you’d been at the prison. The only solace you find is in the fact that you had grown more confident since you guys found this place. Being in charge of inventory gave you a much needed sense of control. From there, you realized just how much you really did have control over, and soon enough the scared girl you once were had become a productive young woman. Now, you have to put that confidence to the test, facing the man who kind of stole what little faith in yourself you had to begin with. You vow to yourself that today will be the day you stand your ground to Daryl Dixon.

        You brush off your jeans and accept the keys from Rick before making your way to the vehicle parked near the gates. When you start the engine, Carl drags open one gate, then the other, and you head out. You notice Daryl right away when you make it to the main road. He’s smoking a cigarette, leaned up against the red truck he had taken into town. 

         You can’t help but wonder why he was on a run by himself to begin with. It isn’t like Rick to send anyone off on their own. Then again, knowing Daryl, it’s not that hard to figure out why he might be a solo kind of guy. 

        You pull the car up beside the truck. He glances up at the vehicle but immediately looks back down at the ground when he realizes it’s you. He makes sure to seem indifferent. 

        Instead of letting his lack of a greeting (or gratitude) phase you, you just step out of the driver’s seat and pop the trunk open before approaching the bed of the truck and beginning to transfer all of his loot into the car. When the trunk fills up, you resort to packing the back seat. 

        By the time Daryl finishes his cigarette, he notices there are a few more items still in the truck. He huffs and impatiently grabs the three items, shoving them in the back seat and slamming the door shut, mumbling something about you taking your sweet time. 

        “What was that?” You speak up before sitting back down in the driver’s seat. 

        “Move over. I’m drivin’.”

        “That’s not what you said, first of all. And no. I drove here just fine, I can drive back.” You roll your eyes. 

        “Quit bein’ difficult damn it! I’m tired. Been workin’ all day out there riskin’ my neck.” He snaps. 

        “I’ve been working too.” You shrug, sitting down and starting the engine. 

        “Scribblin’ on a clipboard ain’t nothin’ like what I do.” He argues, still standing by the driver side, waiting for you to give in and let him drive. You won’t, though. You won’t cave in and bow to him like a puppy with its tail between its legs like you used to. He lost the privilege of your kindness — or maybe cowardice — a while ago. 

        “Actually, I woke up and spent two hours on the fence impaling skulls, then I helped Hershel hoe the ground for spring crops before I scrubbed the common area of the cell block on my hands and knees. Then I did inventory, then I washed your smelly ass jeans. So, no, I don’t just scribble on a clip board.” You correct him. “And, while we’re on that subject, you’re supposed to check out your fucking weapons. Would make the scribbling part a lot easier for me.” 

        He clenches his jaw and his fists at your insubordination. 

        “I don’t know when you grew a smart ass mouth but I ain’t got time for it so quit your bitchin’ and move outta my seat.” He demands. 

        “Or you could stop wasting time and just get in the passenger seat.” You roll your eyes. 

        “God, do you ever stop bein’ such a damn burden?!” He shouts. You run your tongue over your teeth and nod. 

        “Burden?” You repeat. 

         “Yeah. A burden.” He drawls. “As in, makin’ shit harder for everyone around you.” 

        “Hmm.” You hum thoughtfully. “Okay.” 

        With that simple response, you shut off the engine, toss the keys on the ground beside him, and stand up. With your knife in your belt for protection, you start walking toward the woods. You realize that he is absolutely unbearable. You won’t subject yourself to even a five minute car ride with him. 

        “Where the hell are you goin’?!” He calls out after you. You ignore him. “C’mon, (Y/N), get in the damn car!” 

        By this point you’re blending into the trees and he’s losing sight of you. He groans and slams the car door shut, snatching the keys off the asphalt before he marches off after you. He swears when he gets his hands on you, he’s dragging you back by your ankles and cramming you in the trunk with the rest of the shit he looted today.

        “(Y/N)!” He shouts. You sigh. 

        “Fuck off! You wanted to drive so bad, be my guest! Whole car to yourself!” You call back. 

        “Quit bein’ so damn—“

        You whip around, eyes blaring with fury. 

        “So what? Burdensome? Annoying? Stupid?” You cut him off, recalling some of the insults he had bestowed upon you in the past. “I’m so fucking sick of you! All I ever did was try to be nice to you! And all you ever gave me in return was cruelty!”

         You’re shaking now. He’s stopped a few feet away from you, silent as you unleash your pent up frustrations on him. 

        “You know,” you begin, not as loud and shrilled as before. “I didn’t even want to come help you. Because I knew it would be like this. I only came because I was asked to. So you wouldn’t have to try to carry shit back to the prison and go through more trouble. I didn’t talk to you, I didn’t try to be friendly or otherwise vexing. Yet, somehow, that wasn’t good enough. If my presence alone makes you so miserable, then I’ll walk.” 

        With that, you turn around and start storming back toward the prison. 

        “(Y/N)—“ He tries to protest but it just triggers another wave of anger. 

        “What?!” You throw your hands up. “What did I ever do to you?! Just leave me alone!” You shout, turning back to him. “Why do you hate me?!” 

        “I don’t hate you!” He fires back. 

        You scoff and cross your arms. “Sure seems like it.” 

        “Well if ya would just listen to me I wouldn’t get so mad!” 

        “I’m not your fucking dog, Dixon! I shouldn’t have to listen to you for you to treat me like a human being.” 

        “Treat you like what?” He scoffs. “All I ever did was try and look out for ya! Ya can’t do anything right! How the hell am I supposed to keep ya safe if ya can’t follow a simple fuckin’ direction?”

        “Look out for me? How? By making me feel like shit about myself? Reminding me every chance you get how much you just can’t fucking stand me? You don’t treat anyone else like that. Nobody.” Your eyes are watering now. The rage is slowly wearing down into what it really is at its core: hurt. He hurt you time and time again and you always tried to make it right, even when you had done nothing wrong. Shit, (Y/N), get it together. Don’t let him see you like this. 

        “Well why the hell are ya so worried ‘bout what I think?” He asks. 

        “I don’t know!” You snap, turning away from him again. You hug yourself and sniffle. “Just leave me alone.” You beg quietly. “Go drive yourself back. I’d rather walk.” 

        He stands there silently, mouth opening and closing like he has words to say but can’t find them in his sea of thoughts. He doesn’t want to make you cry. He doesn’t even know why you piss him off so much. He does know that seeing you there, hugging yourself as your shoulders rise and fall with silent whimpers makes him feel like shit. He steps toward you slowly, reaching out to place a hand on your shoulder. You flinch at his touch and he retracts his arm. 

        “I don’t hate ya.” He finally speaks. When you don’t respond he realizes he has to continue. “I just don’t want ya gettin’ hurt.”

        “Yeah, right.” You mumble. “All you do is hurt me.”

        He swallows a dry lump. Is that true? 

        “I don’t mean to.” He insists. “I just.. Ya don’t belong in this world. You’re nice. Ya ain’t violent, you’re pret—“ He stops. Your ears perk up. Was he about to call you pretty?

         “What I’m tryin’ to say is… Ever since I first saw ya I knew ya had to be looked after — kept safe. Ya ain’t like most people. I’d feel too bad if ya… If ya got hurt.” He admits softly. You turn your head a little, peeking behind you to try and catch a glimpse of him. 

        His hand finds your shoulder again and this time you don’t shrug him away. You sniffle and wipe your eye clean of tears. 

        “So you’re mean to me to protect me?” You summarize. He realizes how stupid that must sound. 

        “I just get frustrated when I see how vulnerable ya are. Can’t clean a gun and put it back together, can’t aim to save your life, can’t—“

        “Couldn’t.” You correct him. “I couldn’t do those things, but I’ve learned how. You just haven’t been around to see it. Or encourage it.” 

        He nods. “‘M sorry.” He mumbles. “Maybe you could, uh, show me sometime.” 

        “Show you what?” You turn back to him. 

        “Dunno.” He shrugs. It’s a lot harder for him to speak freely when you’re actually looking at him. “What ya can do.”

         “Oh.” You nod. “Maybe you could stop being such an asshole.” You suggest. 

        He smirks a little. 

        “I can try.”

Join the taglist || Masterlist

Tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck

[ohsohoney]

When it comes to love you're just as blinded.

Part Five

Eminem x Musician

Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.

Note: Five! Posting in honour of the face-off. It's a long one again, just started and couldn't stop ngl. But it's pretty fluff filled! Brief warning though, TWD is mentioned here, there aren't any real spoilers but if you're a fan then you'll get what's going on!

| Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2

taglist: @thelastemzy

Masterlist

I couldn’t quite help the way my mind wandered. Back to the diner. Back to Marcie’s words. Back to his smirk. Even as the conversation continued on in the car, Rosie laughing whilst she complained about the radio station that had been put on and Marshall flashing the pair of us funny looks in the rearview mirror. 

Most reasoned that you could tell a lot about a man by how they treated the people around them, not just their kin or the ones they worked closely with. But all people. And somehow, Em kept on surprising me in that regard. 

But maybe surprise wasn’t the best word to use, because it went without saying that his intentions were always pure. Even so, every time he did something I didn’t quite expect I found myself reeling a little further and watching him a whole lot more.

It hadn’t even been a full day and yet, I almost felt at home here in this city I hardly knew, with these people I’d only just recently met. And the entire concept left me waiting. Just waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something to go wrong. Because that was just the way I was wired.

“Sound good?”

I tuned back in at the sound of Marshall’s voice, snapping my gaze away from where it had been trailing out the back window and into the car. Rosie was smiling in the seat beside me, looking all excited, and so I blinked over towards the front seat to meet Marshall’s gaze in the tiny mirror.

“Sorry, I zoned out.” I apologised, blinking once more to try and push away my spiralling thoughts. “What did you say?”

Em took it in stride though, smirking at me before he eventually repeated himself, “Z reckons the park sounds like a good idea.”

Perking up at that, I could easily see why the girl had practically been bouncing in her seat, I peered between the two. “Has it got swings?”

Rosie nodded her head hastily in answer whilst her father just snorted, taking the next right at the end of the road instead of left. And that was that.

It felt strange to say, after having been in the states multiple times before, but everything I did I just kept on finding myself thinking about how it was my very first in America– as in, my first time in Detroit, my first time in a too big car, my first time at a diner. Now, it was my first time experiencing something as insignificant as a park.

It was a nice one though, just to drop that in there, not too shabby and practically empty aside from a far off dog walker in a bright yellow jacket and a couple of runners who were doing laps. 

Em had pulled the car into some sandy lot lined with white lines not too long after the decision had been settled and told us to get out once he’d parked, messing about with the meter whilst Rosie had urged me on.

I let the girl guide us, trying to admire the green grass and the trees that were still slowly changing with the seasons, whilst Z talked a mile a minute about how her soccer team used to meet there. I cringed internally at the use of the American term and vowed that if she ever came to visit London then I would take her out to see just how real football was played.

Marshall managed to catch up to us not long after, though he’d still been muttering about damn machines and dodgy government schemes. Which had me snorting to myself as I’d continue to spin Rosie on the roundabout, jumping on and off its edge to make the thing shake every so often.

The kid seemed to love it though, content to just lie in the middle and watch the sky above fall and swirl. Marshall appeared humoured by the whole ordeal too and had even taken a turn at jumping, landing with just enough weight to produce a loud boom that had Rosie screaming. She’d laughed wildly afterwards, hand over her heart to keep it from beating its way out of her chest.

Em and I watched her spin around some more before it slowed enough so that she could just jump on off, wanting to try her luck at the monkeybars, or ‘jungle gym’ as she’d called it. I chuckled quietly to myself, kicking out a foot to catch the roundabout’s edge to try and stop it completely. Marshall stuck near, watching as it slowly began to steady once more.

“Used to drag motorbikes in here when I was a kid.” I found myself telling him, eyes still stuck on the dragging metal as a memory flashed to the forefront of my mind. I felt Em shift and then caught the way his head then turned towards me from out of the corner of my eye. He waited. I wet my lower lip and felt myself smile, “Would lay ‘em down flat at the very edge here then rev it just enough so that the back wheels would start to make it spin. We would all be crowded in the centre, seven or so of us, clinging to the rails for dear life and screaming bloody murder.”

I glanced over at him then by chance and grinned at the way his brows had since lifted, then huffed out another laugh. 

“The thing would just keep spinning and spinning, until one of us found the courage to throw ourselves off. Or, you know, just yuck up.”

Marshall gave a short snort in return and shook his head with a wrinkled nose and pursed lips, “Fucking nasty. Don’t tell Rosie any of that.”

We shared a snickering laugh, me leaning into him on impulse and him holding me up for just that brief moment. I was quick to reassure, “Promise.”

And what was it with me today and making promises with the Mathers? I bit my tongue to dampen my grin and let the thought go.

The girl mentioned called for us then, having somehow managed to hang herself upside down from the metal bars, practically giving Marshall whiplash as his head spun back around twice just to be certain of what he’d seen. “Girl’s gone be the death of me.” He muttered but was already jogging over to where she was cackling away, hair swinging wildly in the wind.

I followed, albeit at a slower pace, hollowing my cheeks in hopes to hide my obvious amusement, especially when Marshall tried to figure out a way to get his daughter back on even ground. Rosie was far too entertained by the effort though, dodging the man’s attempts and swinging back, forth, left and right to avoid his hands. 

Eventually, she did come down, much to Marshall’s evident relief, which was too easy to see even with the hard frown he’d since taken on. And so Rosie was quick to wave his worries away and hurry over to the next thing, throwing herself onto a swing and gesturing for me to join her. I did, but not before I tossed an impish smirk Marshall’s way as I went to settle in beside her. 

It was Em’s turn to follow me then it seemed, he shook his head at the pair of us when he came to a pause by the swings edge and propped himself against a pole. “You gotta kick a little harder, Z.” He told Rosie after a moment. 

“I am!” The girl laughed in retort, glancing my way to try and match my stride. “It’s not my fault she has longer legs!”

Marshall lifted a brow, arms crossed over his chest, “You can lap most kids on a field and almost give me a heart attack by hangin’ upside down like some sort of bat, but a swing is what stunts you?”

“Dad!” Rosie all but whined, although she was still giggling away. I tried to catch the chain of her swing as I slowed in hopes to pull her with me, but the angle was off and so the most it did was rattle her seat and send me swinging in the opposite direction. 

My hand jumped to grip my own chain once more and I blew out a breathy laugh when the immediate danger of falling flat on my face diminished, but it left me just enough time to have caught the slight startle Marshall had made at the scare. I smirked over at him and raised my palms up so that I was barely holding on by the jut of my thumbs, “All good!”

The man clucked his tongue and looked away from me, almost as if to take a breath, before he was pushing away from the pole and marching over. Instead of stopping by our feet like expected though, Marshall slid behind the two of us and surprised me by grabbing the back of my seat. I jolted at the sudden pull as he lifted me higher, fingertips grazing the back of my jeans ever so before he let go completely. 

I wasn’t ashamed in the least to say that I screamed, dropping so suddenly and from a height I hadn’t expected him to reach was jarring, but then I was laughing breathlessly again as the wind got caught up in my hair, allowing him to give me another hearty shove before he did the same thing to Rosie.

I don’t know how long we sat there swinging, Rosie daring her dad to run between us in between my attempts at trying to teach the girl how to kick her legs a little harder so that she’d be able to swing higher on her own, but we must’ve been at it for a while. At least long enough for the sky to have warmed overhead and then turned into a glazed pink full of bruising purples.

It was then that we decided to call it a day. 

The trip to the playground seemed to have tired Rosie out some though by the time we returned to the car, because the girl slumped into my side not long after we’d set off. Still mostly awake though, she spoke in a soft murmur and pointed out the things that we passed by, her eyes growing heavier and heavier as each moment slipped by but continuing to explain. 

Marshall kept the radio low throughout the drive and let her wear herself out, so much so that she was almost asleep by the time he pulled into the driveway.

“Hey, lovely, we’re here.” I whispered to her, lowering my head just enough so that my cheek pressed against her hair, and rubbed her arm like I would Lottie to coax her into moving, “Gotta head inside now.”

Rosie sniffed sleepily but blinked her bleary eyes open to undo her seatbelt, she smiled as she rubbed at her face then turned to look at me. “I like it when you call me that.” She let slip, leaving me to blink before I realised that she then looked a tad bit sheepish at the admission.

I squeezed her hand and smiled back, “What— lovely?”

She hummed around a tired nod and it was then that the engine and headlights switched off. I peered up in the sudden quiet to find Marshall attempting to appear busy, quietly collecting his keys and the wallet he’d left in his car’s cup holder whilst pretending he hadn’t heard, but I knew he had.

“Just like it.” Rosie murmured again and so I forced myself to glance back at her and her weary smile, she shrugged sleepily.

I couldn’t help the emotion that spread through me and warmed my chest, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to her temple as my hand came up to smooth the back of her hair. “I’ll keep it up then.” I told her in the hush that followed, “Thank you for today.”

Her smile, whilst exhausted, was wide enough to squint her eyes and dimple her chin. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

My nose tingled at the emotion that flooded through me at her heartfelt response and so I was quick to undo my own seatbelt, listening as Marshall’s door opened and the man slid from the car. A second passed, and then two, before there was an audible click and the low light of the driveway crept into the backseat. Rosie smiled up at her father warmly, who extended a hand to help her out whilst I waited, taking a moment to compose myself before I followed, slipping out of the opposite end.

Rosie leaned heavily into his side the whole walk up to the house, muttering about the dog treats she had to give Marcie and how she was looking forward to the coming days, which led to Em softly agreeing with her as he guided his daughter through the front door and gestured for her to head on up the stairs. 

“Night, El.” She didn’t forget to say before she took that first step, kissing her dad’s cheek goodnight and gifting me a quick hug.

I breathed in sharply at the gesture and then smiled softly over at her. 

“Goodnight, lovely.” It only proved to make her grin.

Then it was just him and I, left standing in the hallway, only spurred on by the gentle click of the door that sounded from upstairs. Marshall dragged his cap off and tossed it down onto the ornate cabinet sitting nearby, running a hand over the hair he always kept so short. I moved too, stepping over towards the coat closet door so that I could toe off my shoes and place them neatly inside. 

Em followed and came up behind me a minute later to do the exact same thing, my mouth quirked as I turned towards him though, stealing the shoes out from his hand to set them down beside my own. He shook his head at the gesture but didn’t comment.

The house hummed around us as the door clicked shut, the lights up on the landing soft and yellow where Rosie had just disappeared but enough to stretch out and shine down on us. Marshall jutted his chin in the opposite direction of the kitchen after a minute and when he spoke it was in a low breath, “Don’t know how you’re feelin’ after today but imma watch some tv. If you wanna join.”

It was an offer I was all too appreciative of and so I gave him an eager nod in answer, “Jet lag has yet to hit so I figured I’d just be up unfolding my suitcase until I eventually passed out.”

His grin was small but indulgent, and he shook his head again as he dragged in a slow breath. “Get comfy and I’ll put it on.”

My head tilted on its own accord and I could only guess that the smile I gifted him then was sappy as fuck because he swatted playfully at my chin to turn my face away. I blew out an airy chuckle but kept on grinning, “I’ll be quick.”

Marshall hummed and then turned to walk away, it was only once I’d reached the staircase that he paused and looked back to ask, “Salted or sweet?”

I stopped short, foot dangling in the air just before it could settle on the next step. Pivoting, I shot him a smirk over my left shoulder, “Salted all day, everyday.”

He dipped his chin in a nod and his usual stoic expression melted into something just short of approval. I swallowed down another laugh behind my smile and hurried up the rest of the stairs, anxious to get out of my jeans and into anything else.

I made quick work of it, washing my face free of the makeup I’d put on that same morning and tucking my hair behind my ears. I did jump out of the denim too once I’d pulled a pair of shorts out of my suitcase, although I paused just before I could reach for the hem of the hoodie I still had on.

Peering down at it, I wondered if he would care if I wore it for a little longer and chewed on my lower lip. I realised all too quickly how much time I was wasting with the debate so I simply shrugged and just kept the thing on, slipping out of the tee I had on underneath before I was putting my phone on charge and heading back out the door. 

Marshall, it seemed, had already settled in, the smell of popcorn and the light from the tele leading my way into the family room he’d shown me earlier on to find him already spread out on the sofa, arm thrown over its back whilst he scrolled aimlessly through a couple of films.

As I padded in, hands tucked into my pockets and chin ducked into the neck of my hood, he turned to greet me. I watched, rounding one end of the couch, as he raised a brow and let his eyes flicker down to the hoodie I still wore before they darted back up to my face. “I’m not gettin’ that back, am I?”

I snuffed out a short, airy chuckle and rolled my eyes at the idiot before I plopped down to sit on the other side of the popcorn bowl he’d brought in, gaze catching on the stash of drinks and chocolate he had on the coffee table too. “You will,” I assured him, rolling my head against the back of the sofa to look his way, “Just warm, is all.”

Em hummed sceptically, but let the matter drop– for now.

“What are we watching then?” I wondered, pulling my legs up so that I could better settle into the cushions.

He went down a couple slides on the browsing page before he switched from films over to tv shows, “Up to you.” I groaned, hating having to be the decider, and he laughed to himself because he knew it too. “Jus’ pick something, girl. Damn.”

Picking up a popcorn kernel, I tossed it at his head and smiled snarkily when he jolted back just a tad and peered down at the offending piece that had settled on his chest. He shot me a look that had me stifling yet another chuckle and then popped the thing into his mouth. I rolled my eyes once more and sighed. 

“Um,” I drawled out in thought after a brief moment, eyes scanning the few series that were being advertised. I blinked when I spotted the ‘Because you watched..’ portion of the screen, “You’re a Walking Dead fan?”

Marshall glanced over at me, “Got addicted a while back, all I could fuckin’ watch for months.”

My eyes widened in sudden excitement and I felt the way my grin dimpled my cheeks. “Don’t. ‘Cause I was the same. I’m legit sitting on my hands waiting for the next season to come out.”

His brow pinched and he shifted in his seat. “Comes out Sunday, right?”

“Yeah, for you lot!” I immediately argued, straightening up in my chair as I turned to him again, “I have to wait ages for it to even premier back home, so I’ve resorted to using dodgy websites in an attempt to not get any spoilers.”

Em snorted and then tsked, “Oo, she’s bad.”

My eyes crinkled around my next laugh and I reached out to nudge his arm. “Why are you such a dick?” I tutted before I relaxed back into my seat again to chew on the corner of my mouth, wondering if I should even dare ask the next question that came to mind.

“‘Gotta keep up appearances, baby.” Marshall smirked as his gaze slid back on over towards the tv screen, unaware of how I had just gone and paused for a split second. “But see, this is just another reason why America wins.”

I instantly scoffed, “Wins what? Because I can start listing off a whole load of gross shit right now about all the fucked up shit you guys have done and do. Or,” I dragged out, feeling a little triumphant when he rolled his eyes at me, “We can just pretend you didn’t say that.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He sniffed as he jutted out his chin, “Actin’ like your people didn’t come over and colonise this place.”

My head lazed back when I glanced towards the ceiling in hopes of finding the slim chance that there’d be some kind of peace waiting up there for me. But if there ever was such a thing, I knew it wouldn’t be hanging over my head. 

“You have to have the final say, don’t you?” I ended up chuckling, before I let go of a sigh and turned to look back at him, only to find that he was already watching me.

He smirked. “Look, if you shut up we can rewatch this last season and maybe.. Maybe. I’ll think about lettin’ you watch it with me Sunday.”

My jaw snapped shut in my haste to agree to his terms, the clink of my teeth almost audible in the quiet room. Marshall let go of a low chuckle before he scrolled a little lower and clicked start on Season Four.

The prison.

I reached out and took a small handful of the popcorn as a pair of long legs came into view, the camera following them and winding its way lower and further out, I shifted so that I was sat with my feet tucked beneath me.

A couple minutes passed by with the pair of us entirely focused on the scene, and so it was surprising for Em to be the one who broke the silence, “Bet you right now, I can guess who your favourite is.”

Glancing over at him, I let him witness my sly smile, “Oh, we’re doing this then?”

He grunted a hum in response before his eyes flickered between me and the tv. 

“That mean I can guess yours?” I wondered out loud and he thought it over before eventually giving a single shoulder shrug. I didn’t really need time to think about my guess, I could remember most of this season pretty well and I liked to think that I knew Em well enough too. “What do I win if I get it right?”

Marshall’s head lolled against the back of the chair to meet my questioning gaze, “The pleasure of my company.”

I tossed another kernel at him, pulling a face when he somehow managed to catch it in his mouth. “Do better,” I told him and picked up another piece to throw his way again, the pair of us making an odd game out of it. “Come on, what do I get?”

He sat up slightly and actually put some thought into it, “I don’t know,” He eventually muttered before his gaze met mine again, eyes roaming over my face. “You can keep the hoodie.”

I gawked a tad, “I don’t even wanna know how much this thing costs, so no.”

With a mirthful shake of his head, Em wet his lower lip and blew out a huffed breath, “It suits you better anyway. So you can keep it whether you get it right or not.”

I met his languid gaze with a look of my own. “You’re just saying that ‘cause you think I stink, aren’t you?”

It truly was utterly hilarious how fast and how wide his eyes then grew, and I got to watch it all happen, even the moment he spluttered over the handful of popcorn he’d just started to chew on. “The fuck?” 

He coughed and laughter spilled from me, enough so that I was actually unable to breathe with how hard I was chuckling, hand on my chest to keep from wheezing. “You–” I snickered, unable to kill my laughter entirely, “You should– God, Marshall. You should’ve seen your face!”

He grabbed another large handful of popcorn and threw it straight at me. Even as I continued to laugh, I cowered away to shield myself from the attack, only dropping my hands down once the dull thuds stopped to find kernels littering the majority of the seat as well as my hair. 

“Such a bitch.”

“Me?” I gaped around another chuckle, “You literally just shit yourself!”

Flipping me off, Marshall shook his head and moved to pick up the popcorn he’d just thrown, and so I did too, smiling all the while, even more so when he reached out to untangle a stray piece from the side of my hood.

It was quiet for a short while after that, us moving around one another to put the popcorn in the bin, the first episode of The Walking Dead continuing on without us. It was then that I finally decided to make my guess and paused an arms length away, “Hershel.”

Marshall’s head snapped up from where he was emptying his handful into the bin. He blinked, then stood to his full height. “How’d you guess?”

I grinned, or rather, positively beamed at his reply. “So I’m right?” I asked avidly, having stopped dead in my tracks. He reluctantly nodded, rolling his eyes at my obvious enthusiasm even though the smile he wore was almost fond. “I can’t believe it.”

He pushed out a disbelieving laugh and shook his head. “How?” He prompted again, leading me to shrug.

“Can’t explain it, just had a feeling.” I told him truthfully as he wandered back over towards the sofa, I straightened out the cushions and then sat down beside him. The popcorn bowl had been moved onto the coffee table after all the fuss, which meant we were a lot closer now, but neither one of us seemed to mind it.

“Nah,” Marshall said, knuckle knocking into my knee, “Really. What gave it away?”

I chuckled and waved the offending hand away, “Honest. I really don’t know, it just– It felt like the right answer. He’s sort of like you in a way actually.” Em gawked a tad at that but I just continued on, “He’s stubborn,” I listed with a rueful smile, “almost to a fault.” And as Marshall’s lips thinned, I carried on in my observing, “But he believes strongly in what he considers is right and loves his family to the bitter end. All of them.”

He mulled it over.

“Plus,” I couldn’t help but add, “He’s fucking tough. Just keeps on going, even with everything they throw at him. I mean, the leg. Come on!”

I was met by a surveying look before the man finally cracked a smile and hummed. The blue of his eyes were dimmed in the low light of the tv now but they flickered back and forth between my own, “Daryl.” He said softly in retort, to which I frowned. 

Marshall just continued on though, smiling still as he relaxed back into his seat completely. “Your favourite. It’s Daryl.”

The corners of my mouth twitched and I watched him for a second before a gentle chuckle bypassed my lips, “Why?”

His head pressed further into the back of the couch and I found myself shuffling to join him, cushioning my cheek on my forearm. “Hearts of gold.” He murmured, voice deep and low whilst still also managing not to resonate off the surrounding walls, his words meant only for me to hear. “Selfless, too. You’re a fighter and your silence speaks volumes.” 

He paused, watching again, waiting. “There’s just more to you than what first meets the eye, you know?” 

I didn’t really know. Didn’t know how to respond to that either and so I just smiled, reaching up to tilt his chin away from me so that I wouldn’t be stuck under that hypnotising gaze of his. He huffed a chuckle, the sound of it warm enough to hollow out a small part of me. 

It was then that we both chose to move, I shifted just as his arm came up to rest on the back of the sofa, tipping the cushion beneath me a tad so that I was pressing further into his side. He didn’t complain though, merely draped the arm over my shoulders instead and focused back on the tv screen; Rick crouched in the grass, his eyes glossy as he contemplated the decisions people made in a world like his.

“I forgot to thank you, by the way.” Marshall mentioned after a while in not quite a whisper.

The skin between my brow wrinkled, “What for?”

Rick stood, eyes stuck on the burlap sack. Then, almost as if it pained him, he started to walk away, away from the couple, their decisions, their desperation, and back into the woods.

“Today.” Marshall murmured quietly, before he then added, “Rosie.”

I shook my head as best as I could, “I should be the one thanking you.”

But he was adamant it seemed. “No, really. You–” He stopped and took a small breath, “You’re good with her. She likes you. And then that shit at the park, and in the car.” I felt him shrug lightly, the motion thoughtless, and could picture the struggle that warred over his face. So I didn’t dare move. “Don’t think she’s ever really had someone treat her like that.”

Once again today, I found myself wanting to probe, to question. But I could feel how hard it was for him to speak, to get his words out and across in the way he wanted. I kept quiet.

“It–” He forced himself to exhale, “It just means a lot. So I gotta say thanks.”

My arm came up around his waist almost automatically and I squeezed briefly before I pulled away again, swallowing the emotion that had welled in my throat. “She’s a good kid.” I told him in a soft hum, “You don’t have to thank me for anything. It’s not how shit works with me.”

He snorted a breathy laugh out through his nose and finally eased back enough that I could actually feel the tension flood from him. “I’m starting to get that.” He admitted quietly, as though it hadn’t even been meant for me.

I didn’t question it though, or the way it made me feel, because I suddenly felt my eyes begin to droop. I licked at the corner of my mouth and sniffed, “Think it's hitting me now.”

I felt when Em moved to peer down at me, smirking when he saw just how heavy my eyes had quickly become and the way I was now fighting to keep them open. “Come on,” He prompted gruffly, shifting in his seat to stand before he held both of his hands out towards me, “Bed.”

Snuffling a tad, I did end up taking his arms, allowing him to tug me up. I swayed ever so slightly once I was finally standing. “I hate flying.”

He snorted but entertained me, “Yeah?”

I uhuhed, blinking again slowly. 

Apparently, me all doped out due to a lack of sleep was enough to get Em laughing because he cracked up when I almost toppled back down onto the sofa on my way out of the room, pouting at the knock my knee had taken instead. “Shuddup.” 

“Almost there, sure you ain’t gone fall down them stairs?” He teased and the air that escaped him at the blow I hit him with tickled the back of my neck, “Fuck. Remind me not to mess with you.”

I smiled sleepily before his hand came to settle on the small of my back almost thoughtlessly, peering up to find that we’d made it to the staircase. I grabbed at the bannister and pulled myself up the first few steps.

“You good?”

I hummed at his ask, the sound buzzing somewhere in the back of my throat, before my eyes were slipping closed once more and then shooting wide open when I managed to miss the edge of the next step. 

Marshall’s hands were immediately there to catch me. “Careful, baby.” He murmured, so focused on the task of getting us up the stairs without injury that he was blissfully unaware of how his words had chased some of the sleep away.

“I’m okay.” I reassured him once I’d finally managed to find my voice, but his hands remained on my hips all the way up the stairs and to the landing.

We stopped there, at the patch of hall that separated his room from mine. “Sure?” He quizzed, dipping his head to catch my eye.

Unable to do anything other than smile, I chuckled. “I’m sure. Sorry, I was fine and then it–”

“I get it.” He cut in, “Hits you hard and sort of comes outta nowhere.”

“Yeah.” I croaked out another laugh, tired eyes trailing between his. “Bet I won’t even sleep that long either.”

Marshall perked up a little at that, understanding exactly where I was coming from, “Well, you need anything you know where I am.”

I rolled my eyes but kept on smiling. “I’ll be okay.”

He hummed, not entirely satisfied with that, but took a step back once he realised I really was fine. “Just say okay for my own fuckin’ peace of mind.”

Raising my hand I saluted him stupidly, but it had him biting back another smile. 

“Dork.”

“Dick.” I shot back.

He shook his head, “Go to sleep, asshole.”

“I am.” I snorted just as my hand gripped the handle to my room, “So fuck off.”

Marshall continued to stand there though, tucking his hands into the joggers he was wearing as he waited for the door to swing open and for me to step inside. 

I paused just short of the threshold, fingers playing with the handle for a second. “See you tomorrow then.”

A small smirk worked its way across his face.

“Tomorrow.” He repeated before he finally took a step back and turned to head down the hallway. I watched him go, until he disappeared into the shadows and I was left alone for the first time since I’d arrived.

Tomorrow, I thought to myself as I moved to shut the bedroom door.

–

Turned out that I had been right. 

It must have been around twelve or so when Marshall and I had finally turned in, but I was blinking back to consciousness no less than a few hours later. 

One glance at the clock told me it was only half five and the hour had me biting back a hefty sigh. Still, I knew I wouldn’t be getting much more sleep so I took the shower I hadn’t had the chance to the night before and started to get ready for the day, playing music low to keep myself company in the quiet my room offered.

An hour or so must have passed with me just puttering about, pulling out some clothes and drying my hair, it was when I’d just finished applying a little makeup to mask the darker circles that had appeared under my eyes over the last couple of weeks that I first heard it. A slight scuffle.

I paused and set down the makeup bag I’d been packing back away, waited for a second until I heard it again. Just a slight shuffle of feet beyond the door.

Forcing myself up off the bed, I stood and wandered over towards it, watching as a small shadow casted under the foot of the door before I turned the handle. The face I was met with shot over towards me in startled surprise and I chuckled inwardly, choosing to smile instead.

“Hey, lovely. You okay?” I asked, peering out down the hallway to find that the lights were still off, probably for my sake.

Rosie was chewing heavily on her lip when I looked back at her, the girl already dressed for school. She nodded and lifted her mouth in an apologetic grin, “Sorry, hope I didn’t wake you. Dad said to be a bit quieter.”

I grinned at the thought but rolled my eyes at the man and bumped the door open a little wider with my hip, figuring that Rosie had been shuffling outside for something but unsure on whether or not it could land her in trouble. Especially seeing as Marshall had instructed her to keep the noise down, thinking I was still asleep.

“You’re all good, been up for a while.” I told her, wandering back over to the foot of the bed after I’d gestured her inside. I packed away the remaining products which were still laid out on the bedspread and let her peer around a little. “Excited for school?” I asked, glancing over to where she still stood by the entrance.

She hummed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “It’s school.”

Releasing a soft chuckle, I dipped my head in an amused sort of nod. “I can understand that. You got a favourite lesson at least?”

Rosie chewed her lip again in thought before deciding on History. I smiled at the way her little face lit up at the mention, but I prolonged the silence a little in hopes that it would get her to open up about why she’d been shuffling about outside. It was a trick that had worked a dozen times over on Lottie.

Seemed it worked on Z too, who toed at the carpet just as I moved my makeup bag off to the side. “You any good with hair?”

The question did catch me by surprise, I couldn’t lie, but then I was grinning. “My sister had me learning all sorts,” I divulged to her, “and when I was back at school me and my friends would spend our lunch hour plaiting each other's hair. Drove the teachers mad.”

Rosie giggled at that and finally seemed to relax, moving further into the room. “Would you braid mine?” She wondered and peered up at me with those doe eyes I knew Marshall must have a hard time saying no to, “Dad’s getting better but he usually says it's just good up and out of the way in a ponytail.”

I pulled a face, wrinkling my nose at that. “Well, sure. But I reckon it’s just ‘cause he spends too long trying to work it out all over again each time you ask. You’re lucky though, my brother won’t even try.���

We shared a giggle as I wandered around to grab a few products I’d need. “Didn’t know you had a brother.” Rosie stated once I’d pointed her over to the chair closest and started on brushing her hair, being careful not to tug or pull.

I hummed softly in reply, “He’s a little younger, has a job that takes him all over the world so I don’t see him too often.”

“What’s he do?” She quizzed me, and for all that I’d learnt about how excitable the girl could be, she sat almost stock still in the seat as I sectioned off her hair. 

“He’s in the Army,” I answered her, figuring that I’d do two dutch braids and use the black ribbons I’d gotten in New York to tie them off. “He’s good at it too, loves it there.”

That set her off and she began asking question after question, probably curbing all of her enthusiasm into it seeing as she couldn’t move. I rambled away too, regaling lighter stories of my brother’s experiences, as well as the pair of us as kids. Rosie seemed to prefer those, smiling up at me and wondering if she could see the picture I’d just told her about, of Danny and I at the beach covered in thick, muddy sand. 

I wrapped up her two braids, tying the bows before I moved away to grab my mobile, finding the picture easily enough seeing as though Danny had sent me it the last time he’d been on leave.

“You look so alike!” Rosie giggled when she took a look at it, taking in the obvious traits we shared.

I chuckled as she stepped back, “Not really, he’s got a much bigger head.”

She laughed at that but then appeared to catch her reflection in the mirror on the dresser, she gasped and hurried closer to get a better look at the braids. She admired them for a long moment before she eventually grinned up at me, “It’s so pretty.” Rosie murmured gently, fingers toying with the black ribbon before she wrapped her arms around my waist, “Thank you.”

Anyone else I would have waved them off and said it was nothing, and in a way it was, but with Z I could only hug her back and smile. “You’re most welcome.” I told her as we parted, “Just glad you like it.”

“Like it?” The girl’s eyes widened like something straight out of a Disney movie, “I love it!”

I did chuckle then, “Well, I’m glad.” It was in that next moment that I went to tuck my phone into my back pocket and blinked at the time, “Best to go find your dad, don’t want you to be late.”

Rosie nodded around another grin, looking in the mirror one last time whilst I gathered up the last of my things to join her. We headed out together, Z telling me all about the lessons she was supposed to have today as we trailed down the stairs. 

All of our talking must have alerted Marshall because he only lifted a brow at his daughter when we entered the kitchen. “What I tell you?”

I gifted the man a placating grin as I wandered in behind her. “It’s fine, I was already up.” I reassured him, “And besides, I was doing God’s work.”

Rosie snickered at my words, but did a twirl when I pointed over at her. She was giddy when she approached the kitchen counter in a rush, pushing against it to beam up at her father. “Like it?”

Marshall’s face softened at the sight of her so smiley and went to run a hand over the girl’s head, but there was just enough time for Rosie to duck out of his reach.

“Dad!” She admonished, shooting him an appalled look before she moved to settle onto a stool on the opposing side.

The man held his hand up in surrender, eyes disbelieving. “Apologies, didn't realise I was talking to Dolly Parton.” He muttered and shook his head before turning and mumbling under his breath, “Jesus.”

I snorted to myself and glanced about the kitchen, not an avid breakfast eater but used to having at least a brew first thing. Marshall must have noticed after he’d slid a bowl of cereal towards his daughter and glanced my way.

“Thanks for that, by the way.” He said quietly to me, gesturing over to where his daughter sat, munching away. “She didn’t bother you none?”

My head shook quickly, “No, not at all. It was nice, I’ve missed the days of doing my sister’s hair. She’s long grown out of that phase now.”

Marshall quirked a small smile of his own and then padded towards a cupboard, it was there that he dragged out a box. I frowned at the wicker exterior and honed in closer when my eye caught on something familiar poking out the top. 

I gasped. “No shit.”

“Dollar!”

My head spun back to find Rosie grinning at me from around her spoon. I winced at the slip and shot the pair an apologetic smile which Em just waved off, but I jumped to grab a dollar from the small card case I’d brought down with me anyway and slapped it on the side. “I have a feeling this house is going to bankrupt me.”

Rosie giggled whilst Marshall just shook his head and pushed the dollar back to me. I hardened my stare and dared him to fight me on it. To my surprise the man just huffed out a short sound that could only have been a laugh before he gestured back over to the box.

“Was meant to give it to you yesterday.” He revealed as I carefully moved to peer into it again, marvelling at all the little treats that sat inside. “But things got real busy.”

I released a breath, my mouth parted whilst I reached a hand into the box. I grinned, heart warming at the item I held. “Tea.” I practically exclaimed as I looked back at the pair, not having had a cup since I’d arrived in The States, “And my favourite kind, too. How’d you even know?”

“Mentioned it before.” Em said breezily, before he moved back over to the island.

Had I? I wondered, perplexed by the idea of him even remembering before the sound of another cupboard opening dragged my eyes away from what else had been in the box.

I watched closely as Marshall dragged out a metal appliance from under the counter, only furthering my shock.

“The girls went through a herbal tea phase a while ago, bought this stupid thing and used it a half a dozen times.” He mentioned and settled down a kettle for me to use, “Figure you’ll need it.”

Rosie laughed then, breaking my daze as she slurped up the remaining milk which lined her bowl, “Think she’s speechless, Daddy.”

I narrowed my eyes playfully in turn, but she hadn’t been wrong. I just couldn’t quite wrap my head around it all. With a short snort, Em smirked and glanced back at me. 

“Come on,” He egged, “we only got a bit before I gotta go. Make me one.”

Unable to dim the smile that then chose to overwhelm my face, I simply shook my head in disbelief but jumped into action, “Grab me two mugs then– the milk too.”

I plugged the kettle in by the simple coffee machine in the corner and peeled open the familiar gold box full of heaven, popping two teabags into each of the mugs Marshall then slid on over to me. I prepped each one a little differently, knowing that Em wasn’t too big a fan of milk in his coffee before I added a couple spoons of sugar to sweeten it. It was always nicer to taste that way the first time around, but most were weaned off of it by the time they were old enough to realise that the practice was sacrilege. 

By the time I was clinking a teaspoon on one edge and had dumped both tea bags out, I padded back over to where Marshall was now sitting with Rosie, both of them having been content to just watch me work, and settled it in front of him. I urged him to try it with a raise of my brows.

He wet his lower lip, shared a brief look with his daughter which made me muffle a giggle, before he finally took a slow sip. He blinked at the taste and my grin widened. “Good, right?”

Em blinked again down at the muddy brew and I watched as his mouth pursed before he tried it once more. Rosie hunched over to get a look too, “Can I try?”

Marshall looked to me to ask if she could and I couldn’t see a reason not to, had practically been drinking tea for as long as I’d been on solids. So I dipped my chin, “It’s similar to coffee, but not. Won’t send her into a caffeine frenzy.”

With a cluck, Em let the girl take a sip, warning her that it was hot just before Z pulled away with a heavy grimace. The girl shook her head to show her evident disgust and both Marshall and I laughed at the reaction. “Gross.”

“Oi.” I rebuked teasingly, pointing at her from around my mug, which earnt me a giggle of my own before she was settling back down on her stool.

“Not for me.” She declared and then jumped off the chair to place her now empty bowl in the sink, “Sorry, El.”

I laughed at her apologetic wince and waved her off, “You’re alright, sweetheart. Isn’t for everyone.”

Rosie’s wrinkled expression eased at my words and she smiled as she rounded the island to lean into my side, “You coming to drop off too?”

Blinking, I glanced over at Marshall in confusion. “Drop off?”

The man continued to sip at his tea, which amused me to no end because I knew by the time I had to leave I’d have him hooked, and licked his lower lip before answering, “School.”

Oh. I nodded in a way that showed an understanding then peered down at the smiley blonde beside me, “Sure, if it’s okay with your Dad.”

Rosie nodded eagerly and looked towards the man in question, who’s eyes darted between the both of us before he ultimately shrugged. It got him a giant grin. “I’m going to grab my bag!” The girl told us and barely even gave anyone a chance to get a word in edgeways before she was darting across the room and up the stairs.

I smiled after the retreating figure, amused by her antics, but eventually Marshall dragged my attention back to him. “You good with comin’?”

Withholding a sigh, I shot him an exasperated smile and another nod. “‘Course. Stop questioning shit.”

He pulled a face. “Just tryna be hospitable, shit.”

“Hospitable isn’t the word I’d use.” I chuckled then finished the last of my drink, peering into the still warm mug, “Thanks for this though. It means– well, I can’t explain how much it means to me. Like having a little bit of home here.”

Marshall dipped his chin in silent understanding, still sipping away. “Can understand why, I’ve had this shit before but it ain’t ever tasted like this.”

That had me grinning, “You pulling my leg?”

“Nah, for real.” He said, nodding his head, “You put somethin’ in it?”

I glared and swiped his cup away, taking the two of them over to the sink to rinse. “No clue why you went into the music business, should’ve just been a clown.”

He was smirking when I looked back over, forearms pressed against the counter as he watched me clean the mugs and Rosie’s bowl. “Have a dishwasher, you know.”

Wrinkled my nose, I shrugged, “Probably have a lot of shit that makes life easier.”

“What’s that meant to mean?” Em laughed, the sound of it low but rippling the otherwise quiet kitchen.

“Take it as you will,” I retorted smugly, drying the dishes off easily and placing them down on the draining board. “We gonna start writing today?”

I asked it as I turned back to face him, pressing back against the sink to meet his stare. He shook his head though and pushed up out of the barstool, grabbing the keys he’d since set out on the side, “Figure I’d show you ‘round first.”

The smirk he wore made me question what it was exactly that he meant for us to do, but before I could even think up a reply he was already trailing away and calling up the stairs to Rosie. 

Still, the thought lingered.

[queenofthudamned]

I made this Tumblr because I am RAGING over this Caryl fiasco, and I have no one to vent to. NO ONE calls their platonic friend their soulmate. Sorry, it just doesn't happen - except for people who are anti Caryl or the idiots who run TWD. "To find home is to find each other". How can you possibly not find that tagline romantic?? It's straight off a frigging Denim Dreams book cover along with a picture of a muscle bound bare chested Adonis. And this promo of being bound by one soul. Are you kidding me??? They have the nerve to get bent out of shape because people think Caryl should be romantic?? Melissa doesn't know what to say about it and Norman just ignores a shipping question? They have the nerve to get pissy about fans wanting Caryl when we have scenes like this

Or scenes like this

I will never understand it. Whoever is in charge has done nothing but make bad and/or odd choices since season 3. They have two actors with the most intense chemistry in the history of television, and they choose to play it safe and if I may say so, DULL. There's a gold mine to explore with a romantic relationship, but bff's?? Where is there to go with bff's? So I guess Carol will stay celibate and hang out with her bestie for however many seasons. Maybe she'll find someone but be one soul with another man( and we know how well that's worked out) Now they can't even say Daryl doesn't have the capacity or interest for relationships because LEAH (and maybe a nun). They sure have backed themselves into a corner. No wonder the fans need C collar for their horrible case of whiplash. I just can't with this show. Any carylers want to commiserate?

[retroellie]

NSFW Alphabet with Daryl Dixon

Summary: NSFW Alphabet with Daryl Dixon :)

A/N: Hey y'all! sorry for just like dying but I've been not wanting to write. I've been wanting to write for Daryl for a hot minute and don't worry I'm still Ellies whore ofc :). I just have grown an obsession for crusty musty Daryl Dixon <3. I'm still writing for Ellie; I've actually been working on some Fics for her but i just needed a break from mommy Ellie :( But enjoy!

Warnings: NSFW, Knife play, mentions of pegging, BDSM, blood, normal TWD stuff

Word count: 3.2K

A= Aftercare (What they're like after sex)

Daryl is so caring afterwards. Daryl likes to put this tough guy persona on around others, but you really see him for what he is, a big teddy bear. So after sex, when your out of breath and fucked out, he will clean you up so gently. He will get a rag and clean his mess up while giving you soft kisses on your face, probably mumbling something like " Come back to me love..." because you are still a little high in the clouds. I just know this mf is so soft afterwards, i know from experience :).

B=body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

Where do I start with this one... Well daryl worships the ground you walk on so him choosing his favorite part of you is like asking him to choose between his children. He really likes your hands, you keep them as soft as you can and he likes that. Plus he finds you using them in any way, sexual or not, just so hot. Your boobs are a close second (Daryl is a boob guy, i said what i said) He likes soft things and your boobs are soft and squishy, he likes playing with them.

He doesn't really have a  favorite part of himself, he's an insecure man. What more can I say? However he likes his arms, just because you say you like them so now, he's a big fan of them. Whatever turns you on fastest he's cool with.

C=cum (Anything to do with cum)

Daryl is super careful of where he cums, he'll cum on your stomach, tits, ass basically anywhere that isn't in you. He doesn't want to get you pregnant and there's not many ways to prevent it in the apocalypse, so his pull-out game is strong. He would like to have kids with you someday but as of right now he's okay with cumming on you, he thinks you look pretty that way anyways.

However there are times he finds condoms while on runs and bitch... he uses them up in like one day. He loves that he can cum deep inside you and not have to worry about you getting knocked up, because if he could cum inside you every time, he would in a heartbeat.

D=dirty secret

this is in fact a dirty secret, literally. He likes when you are dirty, like all bloodied up and there's literal brains in your hair. It just gets him going he can't control himself. He also likes seeing you kill people, no walkers, literal people (bad people obviously). Just seeing you take someone's life, seeing what you can do to a person when you're mad enough.  It also puts him in a more submissive mindset for some reason, like he wants you on top of him yelling degrading things towards him.

One time you had killed someone, probably one of the whisperes and he got so worked up, he begged you to fuck him right than and there. You gladly did, you took him and fucked him right in front of the boyd you had just killed. That's also a secret, he likes to be the submissive one.

E=experience (How experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

I don't see Daryl being that experienced tbh. I mean he knows what he's doing yeah, he knows where everything is and he definitely knows how to get a girl screaming but he's not had many people. He's probably hooked up with some junkies and hookers merle hung out with but he never really had what you guys have yk? So everytime you guys would fuck he would secretly be taking notes in his head, watching what every little move did to you.

F=Favorite position

He loves anything that involves y’all close, like super close. He loves missionary for that reason but his all time favorite is you riding him. He loves how he can just sit back and watch you take what you need, he’ll sit up so his face is shoved between your tits and he’ll just suck and lick till there’s no tomorrow.

He needs to feel close to you especially in such a vulnerable act, anything could happen in a single moment so him feeling close to you makes that fear melt away for a moment. However he does like it from the back sometimes, especially when he’s really mad at you for doing something stupid. He bent you over and smacked your ass while pounding into you, leaving bruises and fingerprints in your skin. He’ll sometimes choke you if he’s mad enough but he will always ask if he can hurt you in such ways.

G= Goofy (Are they serious at the moment or are they humorous?)

Daryl is a very goofy guy when you get to know him, like I said he has this big badass persona on all the time. He really lets his guard down around you and you’ve come to like it. So in bed he will definitely be a little goofball, he’ll have you giggling in seconds if he feels like it. Of course he likes to be more serious when trying to get you to cum, like ‘okay that was funny but we need to get back to make your squirm’ yk? But goofy Daryl is my favorite Daryl <3

H= Hair (How groomed are they down there?)

It’s literally the apocalypse so he doesn’t do anything down there. He barely showers half the time so take it or leave it… but however he will try to clean up down there when he gets to the commonwealth but you end up not liking it so he stops it. Something about him being all untamed is a turn on for you so his shaving made you feel strange.

He also doesn’t care about your grooming habits. I mean he’s eaten uncooked squirrel, dog and even worms so you being hairy or “smelly” doesn’t bother him one bit, he’ll still eat you out nice and right :)

I=Intimacy

Daryl lacks in the intimacy aspect of the relationship, he has a very hard time showing his love for you. Him wanting to be close to you all the time during sex is one of the many ways he attempts to show how much he loves you. You will never see Daryl Dixon making a nice candle lit dinner and than fucking you slow on the table after…no. Instead you’ll get dragged out into the forest, fed cooked fish and than fucked on a bunch of rocks and sticks. But that’s honestly good enough for you because that’s Daryl’s candle lit dinner.

J= Jack off (Masturbation headcanons)

Okay well Daryl is old, he feels like a teenager again when he has to masturbate so he just doesn’t. If he gets hard and you're not there, he just takes a cold shower because masturbating just feels wrong to him. However further into your relationship he finds himself sometimes rubbing one out but only when you're gone for a bit, other than that he lets you do all that.

K= Kinks

I feel like Daryl has a lot of kinks that haven’t really come out till you, he’s used to it being vanilla. So like he just fucks to cum and than that’s that. When you told him some of your kinks and how y’all can spice up the bedroom…. Bitch- he did not hold back. He really likes bondage, like a lot more than he thought he did. You were the first to bring bondage up and he was effy about it but once you started that he couldn’t stop. He always has rope or duck tape on him just in case.

He also likes using pain towards you in the bedroom, like slapping, choking, hitting of any kind. He will always ask for consent ofc and if you're not wanting to be too rough at the moment he won’t but he likes seeing the red marks it leaves behind and how you still adore him even when he’s choking you with his cock while slapping your face. He also really likes knife play or really anything that involves blood. He likes to make cuts on you and then lick them up, watching you wince as the sting from the wound hits you. The high of all the pain he gives you just gets him going but he’s also a little whore for taking care of you after.

L= Location (favorite place to do it)

He really likes to do it outside, especially out in the forest. I mean he basically lives out in the forest so y’all do it a lot out there. He does really like bending you over a tree and fuck you until you can’t stand, he loves seeing the little marks the tree leaves into your skin (that also adds on to the pain kink he got going in).  There’s also a chance y’all will get caught but someone or something which just makes the experience so much better. He actually prefers it when a walker shows up, it’s weird to say but to him that means he got you loud enough that a walker 2 miles away could hear your moans.

I have a feeling that one time your moans attracted a walker and while fucking you, thrusting into your so deep, Daryl pulled out his crossbow and shot the walker down… than just went back to fucking your brains out. He felt so hot in that moment but honestly you were too high on an orgasm to notice but you let him have his moment.

M= Motivation (What turns them on?)

Like I said when you kill walkers or people in front of him>>> he just can’t control himself I swear. He definitely likes when you wear his vest around him, when you hunt with him, when you tease him in public, when you wear low cut shirts… the list goes on and on. Anything you do will have him going but he’s learned to hide it, but you have gotten his walls broken down enough to know exactly what you do to him so you tease him even harder. He’s an old man… not a lot of old men get to have such a young, hot girlfriend like you so he takes full advantage of that.

N= NO (Something they wouldn't do/ turn offs)

He doesn't like being called daddy… I know I know, YALL are probably screaming at me rn. I just don’t think he likes it, he’s a father damn near (Judith and rj) and being called daddy just makes him feel gross. He also doesn’t like age play, he’s old and you're young so the role play is a little too realistic and it makes him feel creepy. Other than that everything is pretty much on the table, as long as you both consent to it and it doesn’t hurt y’all too much… he’s down.

O= Oral (Giving or receiving, skill etc.)

Don’t make this man choose plzzzz…. He loves both so much, he loves just fucking your mouth and watching you choke on it, one of this favorite things. However!! I think he likes giving better, he loves your pussy like mf he could go down on you for hours. There’s been times when he's had a bad or long day so he comes home, pulls your pants down and eats you out until you're shaking. He just loves pleasuring you more than anything, if he can get you to cum 4 times before he cums his first time?? It’s a good fucking day for him.

P= pace (are they fast or rough? slow or sensual?)

He’s so rough, maybe not exactly fast but he’s in you deep. Daryl can not be soft for the life of him, even when he tries he still ends up being too rough but good for him that he found someone who likes it rough :) It was a match made in hell!!! He loves to grab onto your waist as he pounds into you so he can literally be as deep as he possibly can and sometimes it gets so rough it’ll make your eyes cross. Basically by the end of it you’ll be worn out and definitely bruised

Q= Quickie (Their opinions on quickies)

He’s not the biggest fan of them, like he likes them when he’s busy or tired from hunting but he really likes long drawn out sessions. He just doesn’t like feeling rushed and quickies make him feel rushed, he just feels like his orgasm isn’t as good when y’all are doing a quickie. Like I said he likes to take is time with you, he likes to fuck you for hours at a time and he likes to bruise you up a bit.

When y’all are forced to do quickies he’s super rough and fast with them, like this man is animalistic when you guys are rushing to reach your highs. He’ll bend you over a table, not even bother with underwear so he just pulls them to the side, he’ll grab onto your hips and pound into you over and over until he’s cumming. He’ll even choke you, like a literal face turning bright red. He's choking you so hard and he’ll definitely bite you here and there. Again it’s all consensual and he doesnt hurt you too bad, it just helps him get off when he’s rushing.

R= Risk (Are they okay with experimenting? do they take risks?)

Daryl loves to experiment, I’m going to go a little deep into this for a minute. So he grew up kinda being exactly like Merle because he thought that’s how men were supposed to be. He was so much like Merle when y’all got together, like even down to the sex. He was selfish and greedy, he also had his ways out in front of him. Then he changed into himself slowly and that’s why he’s so into experimenting now, like he doesn’t really know what he wants so experimenting is super important to him now. As for risks?? He’s all for risks but they have to be safe, when they cross the line of “we are going to die” than it’s no longer fun, it’s just fucking terrifying. It’s the apocalypse so risks mean danger so he's effy on them.

S= Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He's an old man, you gotta give him breaks but he can go for a good 2 or 3 rounds but they typically last a bit. When you first got together he came super fast and it frustrated him, he would also cum and then leave because he was so embarrassed about it. Now he can last long but there’s times when he does cum fast but you were able to convince him there’s nothing wrong with it, if anything you were flattered because the pussy was too good :). But no Daryl is no sex machine but he will do anything for you, even if that meant 6 rounds all in one hour.

T= Toys (do they have toys and who do they use them on?)

So it is the apocalypse so toys aren’t a necessity but he does like toys :). He really likes handcuffs and vibrators, he  uses them on you but sometimes you manage to get him in the handcuffs or hold the vibrator up to his cock to watch him squirm. He definitely sneaks you dildos on runs because he knows you miss him and you get needy, so you have a few dildos to choose from when you get horny at night. One time you even managed to use the dildo on Daryl… so yes you did peg Daryl and yes he did honestly love it. Like I said, he’s a little experimenter and he wanted to try it before he said he didn’t like it.

U= Unfair (how much do they tease?)

He’s not the biggest tease however he loves to be teased. Daryl sometimes makes sexual jokes towards you or slaps your ass when on runs but he’s not too big of a teaser. However, when you tease him, it ignites a huge fire in him. He gets so needy and so upset that he’ll pull you into an empty room to fuck you or even flat-out finger you at the dinner table. Sometimes it’s just a big turn on that you think you’re actually getting to him, and you think your tough shit while acting all innocent when sitting on his lap in front of Rick. He just finds it so hot especially when he gets to rail you after

V= Volume (How loud are they?)

Daryl is not loud at all, he grunts and groans but he doesn’t really moan or scream. He’s grown in the habit of being quiet because of the walkers so he stays quiet but there is sometimes you will have him beg for you which is a power trip for you. He’ll beg you to ride him or beg for you to let him eat your cunt but other than that mf is silent, only basking in your sweet moans.

W- Wild card (Random headcanons)

Okay so I have had this debate on if Daryl is a top or a bottom but I’ve come to the conclusion that he’s a switch. He loves to dominate you but he loves it more when you do the dominating. He likes to just be used for a bit and allow you to hurt him or pleasure him in any way you’d like. He sometimes feels forced into being the dominant one just because he’s this big bad ass in everyone’s eyes but you see right through him. You will literally have him on his knees eating your pussy out as you yell such mean things out to him, one time you even had him crying he was feeling so good. I’m telling you, after you win this man’s trust, he will allow you to see every part of him.

X= X-ray (What's going on in their pants)

Again I never know what to put in these because mf… it’s a penis?!? Like I feel like he’s a little above average but honestly it’s all about how it’s used yk?!? It doesn’t really matter

Y= Yearning (How high is their sex drive)

His sex drive is pretty normal, before he met you it was actually pretty low tbh. Now that he met you he’s always wanting to be inside of you, I think it’s mainly because he’s so scared of you leaving him so he’s just always inside of you making sure you either can’t leave him or you just won’t want to leave him. Honestly if you are turned on most likely he will be too, it’s all about you to him.

Z= ZZZ (How quick do they fall asleep after?)

He usually doesn’t fall asleep too quickly after, he’ll stay up for hours after even if you're asleep. He’ll just lay in bed silently so as to not wake you, but he likes watching your chest heave up and down in your sleep anyways.

[emeryhiro]

Hello!

I am new here and is feeling very overwhelmed right now with that is happening in the caryl fandom. I appreciate your insight into these characters. I am someone who has not seen Daryl Dixon season 1 and is seriously considering if I should even watch it with all that is being said about s2.

Reading all the early reviews that has dropped - I get a lot of mixed reactions to Isabelle's character. Some ppl say she was the best part about season 1 while others don't even mention here in their reviews. The caryl fandom is largely, understandably, biased against her.

I do not know anything about Isabelle and was wondering what your thoughts about her are - how she holds up as a character?

Hi Anon!!

Thank you for your question. I'm really glad you asked this question, and thank you for the kind words🥰 I'm going to do my best to properly answer and share my thoughts on all the points you've mentioned.

Firstly, welcome to the fandom!! 💖 I'm sorry you've joined at a time of so much uncertainty, but I promise that at its core, this community is a beautiful place to be. But like all communities, there is always positivity and negativity, and it's important to be careful with what's surrounding you, ensuring it's a healthy balance that works for you.

I've divided my response into several sections, as I find that to be the best way to convey my thoughts. I also wanted to be as clear as possible since this is a sensitive topic for some, and I want to try to alleviate at least some of the worries.

A mild spoiler warning for a mention of something that happens in episode 1 of season 2.

Reviews on Season 2:

I wasn't planning on reading any of the reviews for season 2, but since you asked for my thoughts, I read all the articles that I could find so that I could give you an informed response. And one thing I advise is to always take reviews with a grain of salt (this includes my thoughts as well) because, ultimately, they're all based on the writers' opinions.

What I've found with all previous seasons of TWD, especially season 1 of Daryl Dixon, was that no single review I read aligned perfectly with what I thought of the show once I watched it myself. And I know I'll say the same about season 2.

Regarding what I read in the season 2 reviews, I don't think I've actually read a single concerning line in any of the ones I've come across, and I'm pretty sure I've read every single one that has been released. There are, however, a lot of people who, out of fear or concern, focus on single lines from a review that may sound negative or worrisome when taken out of context, and ignore everything else in the review that's purely positive.

I can see many people have shared their specific thoughts on different segments of several reviews, but I won't go into my thoughts here for the sake of keeping this response reasonable short. If you're interested in a detailed post about my thoughts on the reviews in general or any in particular, let me know, and I'll share it as soon as I get a chance.

My thoughts on Isabelle:

I found Isabelle to be a fascinating character with many layers. She is unquestionably flawed and has a great mix of both positive and negative characteristics, which I think is what gives her character so much potential. She's intelligent, driven, brave, headstrong, and very protective, but she's also undeniably manipulative, which makes sense when you think of it as a self-defence mechanism that she developed during her rocky life before the apocalypse. I'm also a fan of Clémence as an actress, and I think she's a great fit for this character.

This next bit might sound a bit contrevoursial but bare with me. I've seen Isabelle get a lot of hate for being manipulative towards Daryl, even I personally hated seeing Daryl be treated that way, but it's important to remember that we've also seen Carol behave manipulatively when she's had to in the past in order to protect the people that she loves. This is something you'll see Carol do once again in episode 1 of TBOC, and when I watched it, it made me uncomfortable, but ultimetly, I could see that it made Carol uncomfortable as well; she doesn't feel any satisfaction out of what she does and is willing to carry the weight of that lie and guilt to achieve her ultimate goal of saving Daryl, the person she loves.

Even though, on the surface, it's not an admirable thing to do, we appreciate Carol so much more because of the lengths she's willing to go to for the ones she loves, and we've also seen her journey to this point, which naturally makes us love her and empathise with her.

So my point here is that I can't judge Isabelle for the same behaviour I admire in my favourite character. Just like Carol may act that way to protect Daryl (her loved one), Isabelle was doing it because she believed (to the best of her knowledge) that it was what was best for Laurent (her loved one).

However, what doesn't sit right with me about Isabelle's character is that what the showrunners and writers have been saying about her doesn't align with what I've seen on screen (this is a great example of why I try to avoid looking at unnecessary publicity). I want to love her character for who she is, flaws and all, but the inconsistency in her publicity makes me feel like there's some discrepancy behind the scenes, and that has stopped me from investing in her character and gives me slight concern for the trajectory of her arc, which has so much potential that would be incredibly tragic if wasted.

The only other thing that I would disagree with (IF the show ends up going down that path) is the negative messaging that would be given out about nuns if every surviving nun on the show is portrayed as willing to forget her vows the minute there's a man in front of them that they find interesting. I'm not catholic, but I think that it would be incredibly disrespectful towards actual nuns and the sacrifices that they make for their faith. But please don't take this as fact because I don't think this will actually ever happen. I honestly don't believe that AMC or anyone involved with the show would knowingly do something like that. I'd be happy to explain this a little further, but I don't think it's relevant if you haven't seen the first seasons.

Watching TWD: Daryl Dixon S1 & 2

My question to you would be, what draws you to TWD/TBOC? Is it Caryl itself and potential canon? And if so, do you feel that you'd be left disappointed and/or unsatisfied with the potential lack of romance between the characters in season 2? Or, do you enjoy the show for a combination of things, like the character development, world-building, cinematography, etc.?

I want to emphasise that there is no wrong answer to the above. Everyone is unique, and it's 1000% understandable and fair for each person to have unique reasons for being drawn to and loving, hating, or even being indifferent about a show.

I personally fall in the latter category; I love TWD for its rich story, action sequences, cinematography, multitude of interesting characters, and the mind-blowing ways in which they have developed over the years (the whole package of the show is exactly my cup of tea), and of course, it's no secret if anyone looks at my blog that my favourite character (BY FAR) are Carol and Daryl. I absolutely adore them for everything they are, both as individuals and what they bring out in each other and mean to each other. And if Caryl is ever canon (which I expect would happen in season 3), then that would be the cherry on top of a show I already love.

My very short review of season 1 would be that I really enjoyed it and would rank it at the top between all the other spinoff seasons we've gotten so far. However, in all honesty, I still felt and noticed the hole that was left behind in the story with the absence of Carol, but knowing that she will be returning in season 2 kind of made up for that lack in season 1. All up, I really enjoyed season 1 and have watched it several times in the last year. I'm actually currently in the middle of watching it again in preparation for season 2.

My recommendations:

If you personally fall into the former category and, as mentioned above, feel that you'd be left disappointed and/or unsatisfied with the potential lack of romance between the characters in season 2, then perhaps it's better to wait till all the episodes are released to then decide if it's something that you'd like to watch.

If you're willing to accept and are okay with the potential lack of romance between Caryl in season 2 but are concerned about and would rather not watch any potential romantic relationship develop between Daryl and Isabelle, then I'd say that you should watch the season as it releases because I honestly don't believe that something like that is a real possibility. At most, there may be hints towards one-sided feelings from Isabelle's side and maybe some confusion from Daryl's side, but untimely, it would not mean or go anywhere. I'm personally not even bothered with this worst-case scenario because it doesn't matter how many people have feelings for Daryl or how confused Daryl is because I know that once he's reunited with Carol, there won't be any more uncertainty about where his heart and loyalties truly lie. There's honestly not a single ounce of me that's concerned about this.

If you're more like me and enjoy the show as a whole, even though you may be slightly disappointed with a few accepts, then I'd highly recommend that you watch season 1 before the release of season 2 (if you have the time), because it genuinely was a good season and will give you a lot of backstory and context that would make season 2 feel so much more enjoyable and immersive.

~~~~

Thanks again for your questions!! I hope this all makes sense and that it answers your questions. As I mentioned earlier, if you'd like me to expand on my thoughts on anything in particular, please let me know, and I'd be happy to do so.

My last bit of advice is this: I know it's easier said than done, but I urge you, especially as someone who's new to the fandom, to not allow a lot of different voices and opinions to shape how you naturally feel or invalidate what you take away from watching the show (not that I think that's what you're doing but this is the general advice I wanted to give just in case🩵). It's really easy for anyone to be influenced by negativity and positivity when they find that that's all they can see from the people around them.

I personally try to focus on what I see on screen and what I hear directly from Norman and Melissa because, at the end of the day, showrunners and writers come and go, but Norman and Melissa have embodied these characters from day one and understand them more than anyone else ever could.

♡♡♡

[uzi-x33]

been working on my bsd apocalypse au a bit, here’s what I have of the storyline (i thought of this in the shower and this is the first time im writing this down💀)

ok ok so Dazai and chuuya r married (i love the husbands guys) the ada and pm r in the middle of a huge meeting, everyone is there, when the screen they use to project plans on goes to an emergency broadcast of the news “hello citizens of Yokohama, we have seen reports of nightmare-ish creatures from the dead, roaming the streets, we are currently working to figure this out, please stay in doors, they aren’t fast, but we don’t quite know what will happen if they bite you.” broadcast ends bla bla they think it’s all some joke but when chuuya goes to open the door but zombie’s push through, he freaks out and everyone starts running upstairs, trying to get to the heli pad on the top floor, luckily no one dies, but the agency is swarming, they get to the pm building, which is fine for now, they’re all panicking but trying to stay calm, ranpo has a deadpan stare, a stare that says, “we’re fucked.”

ANDD THATS ALL I HAVE, no this isn’t gonna be a fanfic, I don’t wanna do that, but if you’d like too make a fic like this or using this au tell me I’d love to read it!!! I don’t know how I came up with this lmao, this will be getting more updates & art, and I will posting A LOT more abt it hopefully. The pairings I’ll have will be dazai and chuuya, tachihara and junichiro, kouyo and yosano, ranpo and Poe, atsushi and aku, and uhh idk I think that’s it, im sorry for any spelling errors, im so excited abt this as a huge bsd fan and twd fan as well, which this is kinda inspired by!

[spacingoutforever]

i was watching TWD edits and a thought struck me i had to post it here in honor of ghoulcy week!!!!

***POST CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE WALKING DEAD***

if you're not a walking dead fan im sorry bare with me lolol

BUT i couldnt help but feel that theres parallels between daryl and beth's arc and ghoulcy LIKE !!!! DO WE REMEMBER THISSS

beth was this soft sunshiney personality and had to quickly adapt to the harshness of surviving as soon as she left her family's farm (like lucy living in the safety of her vault her whole life) so beth never got the chance to experience the raw horrors that loomed outside that. she was young, naive, SO kind to a fault. but when her and daryl were in closer proximity, i remember how much chemistry they had!!!!

they drank together, had heated arguments. but taught each other something. exchanging their views on humanity. daryl goes out of his way to disgust her and prove how much he doesnt deserve affection, kindness or love.

WHICH IMO parallels how the ghoul pokes & prods at lucy to test her resilience, to maintain this image of him being a monster. an effort that seems like hes proving to himself that kindness is useless. a disgarded luxury of the past. that if you have any of those qualities theyd be snuffed out in an instant. or worse... get you killed.

daryl and the ghoul have some similarities that i find kinda endearing, because i love both of them - their gruffness, endurance, loner qualities, the list goes on. their pasts are different but their approaches to a post apocalyptic world are similar (daryl takes himself more seriously ofc).

it was hinted very strongly that they were more than just friends - to this day i believe had beth survived, theyd be a romantic pairing. but i know why she didnt, unlike fallout, TWD had to prove that the world WAS indeed dark and hopeless for the sake of that universe. its why i love it.

fallout, rather, has enough satire and weirdness to allow this kind of dynamic to flourish. i mean just look at how the game allows sole survivor to flirt/romance the companions 😭

anyways, call me delusional, but i am holding out hope for s2 so badly & cannot wait to see how the story unfolds x

happy ghoulcy week!!!!!

[my-mt-heart]

Here we go again...

I'm going to echo what I said on Twitter about "The Big Three" post on my blog since this is where I feel safe speaking up. I'm very sorry I had to direct it at Valhalla who have been Melissa/Carol/Caryl fans' biggest ally on social media up to this point, even using #TheBookofCarol tag to let us know they see her as the main protagonist that she is. I'm also very sorry that as of today, we've reached the two-year mark since the news of the original spinoff's cancelation and this fandom still has to fight for the respect that they and Melissa herself have more than earned. Again, this is why we need a new showrunner with the intuition and authority to change the messaging on the show and on SM, so that Caryl fans not only feel safe, but also eager to watch, pay for, and engage with new material.

I saw that Valhalla acknowledged Carylers' complaints on their post. I wasn't expecting that. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think any other official account has ever put the needs of the fans over their own need to save face, so I respect and appreciate that. The comments were filling up with voices from other parts of the fandom trying to give Valhalla an out, but it's easy for them to ignore or in some instances mock the issue because their favorite character is represented and they get the satisfaction of a character they hate being left out and her fans being upset about it. It's easy and probably fun for them to accuse us of throwing tantrums, invalidating a very real source of pain for many of us.

There is a long history of fandom bullying and ageism directed at Melissa/Carol/Caryl and their fans to the point of many people, including Melissa herself, having to leave SM. The other factions claim we're a minority, but in reality we're just less active in public spaces because we're made to feel like we don't belong. Caryl fans are very much like the characters in that way and unfortunately other fans and other official accounts take advantage of that.

What happened exactly two years ago has broken our trust and our spirits even more. A lot of us are teetering on the edge of leaving because we're tired of being gaslit and strung along. We're vulnerable and we have triggers. In order to keep engaging with TWD content, we have to feel like its worth it, which means we need to know that the show and everyone affiliated are meeting our needs: that Melissa and Carol are acknowledged for the HUGE impact they've had in the story since S1, not how much they are marketed, and that Caryl is treated like a valid ship.

We need strong leadership for that. Valhalla is a female-led account, so they have the authority to tackle the issues that the actresses and their female fanbases face. A female showrunner would help with that as well. TBOC is fast-approaching. The promotion should focus on hyping the core audience of that show, not alienating them further. We deserve so much better. Melissa deserves so much better. Caryl deserver so much better.

[frangipanilove]

I don’t really understand how Beth would’ve ended up in all these different places. Is it because of the Commonwealths? The CRM? I’m confused and hate to say so cause it should be obvious but I’m feeling lost on it. I guess I should just trust “Beth is alive” and we’ll see her again. Just frustrating how long we’ve waited for her.

Hi friend, sorry it took me so long to get to this. I’ll try to answer, even though it might not be the kind of answer you had hoped for. I’m not really sure what you mean by “all these different places”. I personally don’t have any fixed opinion on exactly where she will show up, geographically. I expect there to be lots of hints and symbolism referring to her in Daryl Dixon season 2, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I believe she will literally show up. She might, but I’m not relying on it.

If your question is about the logistics of world travel, I don’t think that should be a problem. For starters, remember this is fiction. If tptb wants something specific to happen, they can just write it. We’ve seen that technology for world travel exists in this universe. We’ve seen advanced military technology like chinook helicopters, that were able to cross the North American continent without any issues. We’ve seen Daryl cross the Atlantic on a boat, we’ll see Carol do the same with a small plane. In FTWD we once saw Strand communicate with an astronaut on the International Space Station. Also in FTWD, we once saw them rehabilitate an old aeroplane and fly it out of a nuclear waste zone. We’ve also seen them travel by using a hot air balloon (shaped as a beer bottle, no less, and I’ve written about the incredible symbolism of that elsewhere)

For what it’s worth, people were crossing oceans centuries and millennia ago, and while I don’t think Beth’s on a viking ship or a balsa raft, humans have always migrated, and I don’t think a zombie apocalypse is enough to stop that drive. People will travel if they have a reason to, in real life, and certainly in fiction.

Tptb have also dropped hints of international trade throughout the seasons, with references to coffee (which only grows under very specific conditions), exotic fruits like pineapple, and also sugar cane. While none of that guarantees the presence of an international trade network, it does indicate the existence on one. At the very least, it renders it plausible that one COULD exist.

Also, Major General Beale from TOWL mentioned the CRM has spies everywhere, and I don’t remember his exact words, but I believe he mentioned overseas territories. So I wouldn’t worry about the logistics of travel. If TPTB want Beth to show up somewhere specific, they can just write it.

But there’s one thing we have no real insight into, and that’s the business part of the equation. Remember, TWD is ultimately a business, and if Beth is to come back, it will be because someone made the business decision to bring her back. And we can’t know what goes on behind closed doors at AMC. We can’t really know why she wasn’t brought back a long time ago, and we can’t know IF she’ll be back at all. We can’t really know for sure that EK even wants to come back. We can speculate, analyze interviews, social media posts etc, but it will still only be speculation and our subjective, biased interpretation.

And that’s what we do in TD, right? We watch the show and look for ways in which the symbolism tells us Beth is coming back. There’s an extensive symbolism framework present in TWDU that would help facilitate her return, and I like to believe it’s there for a reason. But ultimately no one can know for sure.

So I’m afraid I can’t guarantee that Beth 100% for certain will be coming back. I watch the show and I offer my interpretation of the symbolism, but you’ll never hear me make any promises, because I don’t think anyone can.

I understand the frustration, but for me, I’m a fan of the entire franchise, I love the main show and the spin offs and the entire TWDU, and I’ll continue to watch my favorite show regardless of whether or not Beth comes back, and that helps. I’d love for her to return, and I do believe that’s the story the symbolism is telling us, but I enjoy the show immensely regardless.

I hope this helps, but I’m sorry if it wasn’t the answer you were hoping for. Would love to hear more of your thoughts though 🥰

[frenziedslashers]

I don't know if this is an odd request or not but Eugene x fem reader who's like Maggie's sister. And they get really close after they meet and it's super obvious that eugene is into the reader. And the night in 5x5 episode where GREATM is sleeping in the library eugene and reader are laying down next to the little fire they have going (eugene is laying on one side of it and reader is laying on the other side) and they are sitting and talking (mostly eugene rambling) and they end up sleeping together that night after everybody else goes to bed?

This sounds super fucking scattered and not that much detail but I hope you can do it. <3

Hold Me, Please;;

A/N: I spent a good hour trying to decode what "GREATM" meant before I realized it was "Glenn, Rosita, Eugene, Abraham, Tara, and Maggie". I am so sorry 😭🫶 but yeah I can do this! Not a big fan of Eugene, but he gives me an excuse to put nerdy stuff into fics LMAO Sorry if this isn't the best

Pairing: Eugene Porter x Fem!Reader (Maggies Sister)

Warnings: I was going to do smut but I got lazy sorry 😭🫶, making out, Maggie's Big Sister ModeTM Activates, Eugene is a fucking NERD, let me know if I need to add more!

TWD MASTERLIST || REQUEST INFO

It was just the two of you up besides Glenn who was taking watch at the window for the next couple of hours. Maggie and Tara were asleep on the other side of the bookshelf to the left of you. Abraham and Rosita were asleep on the other side of the shelves to the right.

"Do they always fuck that loud?" You blurted, and Eugene could feel his face heating up. Not only did he just realize how intently he was staring at your face while you laid on your back and stared up at the ceiling, but you had also asked him a quite bizarre question. Maybe that's what he liked about you. How ruthless and random you were. He liked that you seemed to have zero shame when it came to asking about people you hardly knew. He wondered if you had always been that way, or if the hardness of the world had changed your personality.

"Well, not every night," he started, his fingers playing with a few strands of his hair while he lay on his side. His eyes fixated on the small can that still had some ambers within it. The little can that separates you from him.

"I mean, some nights they don't even. I reckon they're fighting those nights. Or something happens and they just don't have the time. Abe's always been quite obnoxious though. Sex or not, he wants the world to hear him it seems." He rambled, and you smiled over at Eugene with this smile that had his brain lagging. He swore he'd never felt this way toward anyone in his life. Sure, he'd steal glances from Rosita here and there. Plus, he liked how badass she was, but you? You felt so different from him. You had this sweet and silky demeanor to you. Like if he touched you all of his problems would vanish and he'd be enveloped in this warmth that only you could give him.

"Well, it's annoying," you snickered, rolling onto your side so you could face him. His eyes hesitantly flashed up to meet yours, and he swore that was his worst mistake of the night. Your eyes were so easy to get lost in. He wondered how you weren't spoken for with how drop-dead gorgeous you were.

"Did you game before this all started?" You asked, and he shook his head. Yet again having to pull his thoughts away from how distracting you were. "What?" He asked, and you giggled. The noise had his heart beating even faster in his chest. His eyes looking everywhere but at you. Terrified that if he looked at you then you would know what he was thinking.

"Did you play any video games before all of this?" He swallowed thickly at the question and tried to think of how to respond. You were treading on thin ice right now. Before you knew it you were going to have Eugene talking all night. He could never shut up when the topic of his special interests was brought up. It had his heart swelling at the fact that you wanted to know more about him.

"Well, I would like to consider myself a gamer. I wasn't the best with gaming chats, some people got too darn mean, but I liked hearing the commentary when I would absolutely kick ass." He added, and he felt his lips pull up into a small smile when you smiled at him. "What games were your favorite?" you asked, and he sighed. his fingers drummed on the floor while he looked around in thought.

"Well, I enjoyed an array of games. First-person shooter games, Puzzle Games, RPGs, and a wide variety. I enjoyed coming home from work or school to sit and play some Galaga or Minecraft here or there. Borderlands was a good one, super beautiful character development in those games. Call of Duty could be fun at times, wasn't much a fan of the people who would play that game though." He rambled on before he realized how much he was talking.

Eugene cleared his throat. He looked up at you with bashful eyes, nodding his head toward you. "Did you have any games you liked?"

He watched closely while you looked around. The way you seemed to think as if you were questioning lying or not. Then this deep sigh fell from your lips and he half wondered if you were upset. "Well, not really. I grew up on the farm with Maggie and..." your eyes drifted with this look of hurt that had his heartstrings tugging. He barely knew you and he hated seeing you look so upset. He knew enough about you already to know you didn't deserve whatever pain you were experiencing right now. "Our other sister, Beth. We didn't really have any time to play games other than the ones outside. Plus, Daddy was never a fan of them. Claimed they would rot our brains." You told him, and he nodded. Making a mental note to find some sort of gaming device in the future so you could play one with him.

"Well, he's not entirely wrong. I used to procrastinate on college work by gaming all day and night. Even missed a few classes because I would stay up too late." He told you, and you nodded with a sigh. "What did you do, then?" He asked, wanting to hear more of your voice. More about you.

You shifted in your spot, and he did as well. "Well, I used to help my family on the farm. That took up a lot of my time, really. I didn't even get to move out. I was always worried Daddy didn't have enough help, and he was already so lost when Maggie left for school. I couldn't leave," you rambled, and he was enraptured by you. You had every ounce of attention that he could give to you as you told him on and on about your life. Whether it be the games you and your little sister Beth used to play. Or how you and your uncle used to hunt. Or how you used to tend to the animals. He would remember everything, God as his witness.

When neither of you really had any more to talk about, it was silent again. You could hear Abraham snoring, and the faint sound of groaning from the walkers that aimlessly roamed the streets outside. Neither of you knew what to say.

His eyes focused on your form in the dark when you shuddered. His brows furrowing with a curious grin in his eyes. "Are you cold?" He asked, and he was acting before you even had time to answer. "Take my jacket, I suspect that you are in need of it more than I," he told you, offering the coat, and you felt your stomach flip at the offer. That was the kindest thing anyone had really done for you since all of this started. Besides Daryl being there to help you and Beth when you each got separated from the prison. Or when he helped you after you lost Beth. Daryl and Glenn were really the only two of the group that you believed would treat you as kind as Eugene was. Even then, this felt different than their friendly demeanors towards you. It felt less brotherly and more romantic?

"Eugene, I don't want to take your coat," you chuckled, and he raised a brow. "We could share it? Our combined body temperatures would keep the both of us equally warm. If not you warmer than me, being that I'm a man and we tend to let off more body heat due to muscle mass. Plus with my size, it would be the most efficient way for you to stay warm. Unless you're uncomfortable with it, that's more important than you being slightly cold. If the temperatures were below freezing I would fight over the matter more, but that's not the case," he jabbered in a matter-of-fact way. It made you smile at how intellectual he always was. Even the jokes he told he always said it with this "I'm smart, and I know it," attitude.

"If this is your way at flirting you have a funny way at doing it," you shot, and that was quick to make him shut up. His brows furrowed and he gave you this look that almost made him look half offended that you were accusing his scientific and worried arguments of him just wanting to lay beside you. "Though lying beside you would be a plus, I am only suggesting it out of concern for you. I promise you, I'm not some pig, I would never use the word of science to get in a woman such as yourself's pants," he spoke, and you raised a brow when he came to sit beside you. "You deserve a gentleman, nothing less, and I will stand by that," he finished, and you smiled.

He didn't really know what to do from here, his mind was racing a mile a minute and he wondered if he was overstepping boundaries by simply moving around that stupid tin can so he could sit beside you. He tried his best to chase his racing thoughts away while he lay down on the floor beside you. His back pressed against the hardwood. Saliva pooled in his mouth that he quickly swallowed away. He despised how awkward and anxiety-ridden he always was. He wished he could be normal and not overcomplicate every single thing he did.

His body stiffened when you grabbed the coat from his hands. Draping it over the both of you so you could curl up beside him. This time he felt a shudder from you, and it nearly had him shuddering. Just he wasn't cold. "If this is too much, you let me know," he muttered "Eugene," he turned his head to look over at you. Your face was a hell of a lot prettier up close. "Hold me, please."

He couldn't say no to that offer, especially with how soft your voice was. He felt like he was a sailor, and you were a siren coaxing him into the water with you. Turning on his side so he could wrap an arm around your body and pull you close. Your body felt so warm and cozy up against his. A soft breath left his lips while his eyes fluttered shut. He prayed this moment would never end.

"I know I said I wasn't trying to get in your pants, but may I maybe steal a kiss from you? If that's not weird, I could be getting the wrong vibes from you, I apologize if I am, and I-" a muffled gasp left his mouth when your lips were pressed against his. He was so lost in his ramble that he wasn't even paying attention to what you were doing.

Your lips on his had his body bubbling with a feeling he swore he had never felt. It felt like straight electricity, and his dopamine levels were through the roof. A cocktail of feelings was shooting through his brain right now and he hardly knew how to react. He kissed back, but he was so stiff with it. He'd never done this before, how was he supposed to kiss? Was he too rough, too hard? What if he was fucking this all up and you didn't want to ever kiss him again.

"Eugen, relax," you muttered against his lips, and his eyes fluttered shut. "Sorta hard when I got a pretty gal such as yourself kissin' me," he spoke and you chuckled, kissing his cheek. "All right, then you kiss me. It's fine, I've got no idea what I'm doing either," you snickered, and for some reason that eased his worries away. It was hard to believe, but it made him feel like less of a loser.

One of his hands came to shakily rest on the side of your face. His thumb brushed the apple of your cheek. His eyes were parted once more so he could see what he was doing. Once he leaned back in and his lips caught yours in a kiss they were closing. This time he felt more at ease like maybe he could figure out what he was doing. He was a perfectionist, after all. He'd get the hang of it sooner or later.

A soft sigh left your lips, and the noise shot straight between his legs. A low grumble left his throat while he rolled his body so he was partially above you. Sharing kiss after kiss with you felt like dream after dream.

He wanted to take it a little further, with your approval, but like they say. All good things come to an end, right?

"Get off of her!" Eugene nearly screamed when he heard Maggies voice. Jumping to his feet like a scared cat as he stared at your older sister with wide eyes. His hands flew up in defense when he saw the machete in her hands and he wondered if maybe he should have asked her if this was okay. Was he going to die?

"Maggie! Stop it, he wasn't hurting me," you shouted at your older sibling, and she shook her head. "The hell do you think yer doin'? We don' know him!" She hissed, and you scowled. "He listens to me," you snapped, "Plus, you obviously trust them enough to have me come along with you and Glenn on this mission!" you argued back, watching as your arms lowered her weapon and he attention was no longer on Eugene, it was on you.

"Maggie, what's going on?" Glenn asked, and Eugene looked at the man with a pale expression. Abraham and Rosita retreated from their corner to see what the commotion was all about as well.

"I kissed her," Eugene spoke, finger pointing at you to clarify who he was talking about. "It was all my idea. She was cold so I offered my jacket and to lay beside her to help regulate her body temperature. Then she asked me to hold her an dI asked if I could kiss her. It was all consensual! I would never take advantage of a woman like that," he blabbered in attempts to get you and himself out of this sticky situation. All eyes landing on the two of you.

Abraham looked impressed, Maggie had a look that could kill, Rosita was shocked, Glenn was dumbfounded, and Tara was clapping. "Get it, Eugene," she hooted with a snicker, and Maggie shot her a glare that had her throwing her arms up and retreating. "too soon, my bad, horrible with these situations," Tara mumbled, and you bit your lower lip to fight back a chuckle.

Maggie looked back at Eugene with this gaze that had him wanting to throw himself outside to the walkers rather than deal with her rage, but he didn't say anything. He just stood there and stared at the girl with a worried gaze of his own. Doing all in his power to seem strong for you.

"Maggie, I'm an adult, I'm not a little girl anymore. I haven't been since before all this apocalypse stuff started," you spoke to your sister in a calming tone, and she nodded. "Fine, but he hurts you, I don't care what information he knows. He's a dead man," her voice was venomous, and she was looking back at you with a similar scowl. "And you, don't do anything stupid. I trust you, don't disappoint me," you nodded, understanding Maggie's worries for you. All she had left was you, and you knew she'd be protective over you until one of you was to go.

Everyone slowly retreated back to their positions. Maggie taking over Glenns watch while Glenn went to bed. Tara back in her sleeping spot and Rosita was lingering waiting for Abraham to join her.

"Didn't think ya had it in ya, Gene," Abe piped, hitting the brunette's shoulder with a toothy grin. "Well, uh, I reckon I never did. I just talked enough that it got me a kiss," he spoke, and the ginger snickered. "Whatever, congratulations, you my friend. Landed yourself a nice piece of ass," he told him with a salute and wink before heading back to bed with Rosita.

Eugene cringed at the other man's phrasing. You were far from a piece of ass to the scientist. You were a friend, a companion. He wanted you to be the person he could rely on when he needed a comforting hand, not just someone to get his rocks off. Though he wouldn't be complaining if you and he did do a little more than just kiss, he'd never push it from you. He'd happily just be in a relationship with you without sex if that was truly what you desired.

His attention was drawn back to you when you said his name. Turning in his spot to find you back on the ground with his jacket over you. Your arm was outstretched towards him, luring him back to bed. He couldn't say no to that. Even if he was dead terrified of your sister, and even Glenn. He could never say no to you. He found a reason to live rather than just being scared of dying, and he'd be damned if he denied you something as simple as lying beside you. He was finally at peace and happy with everything, his only concern was how you'd react when you found out he wasn't actually a scientist. Those were thoughts for another time, though, because right now. He had a date with you and sleep.

[ghostboneswrites2]

Ok- hear me out-

Angst Daryl fic where reader is with him when he finds Merle turned...?

Either he insists on finishing him or he is just so mentally broken by it that reader finishes Walker Merle off?

Love your writing take your time :))

Shoulda Let Me

note: I've written this scene with Daryl so many times over the years that it gets hard to write a unique variation of it but your take on it was refreshing :) hope you like it!!

18+ MDNI || Warnings: Profanity, TWD typical violence, loss and grief, death

        You tagged along behind Daryl as he stormed through the trees. He was pissed that you were sent to tag along. He could take care of himself, he didn't need a babysitter. Then again, he knew why you were there. Rick was afraid if he found Merle, he'd run off again with him in efforts to keep his brother out of the path of destruction that the Governor was sure to bring. Merle was a traitor now. Surely he wouldn't be welcomed back with open arms.

        You jogged forward every few minutes, trying to match his pace, but you didn't dare ask him to slow down. You knew he was one wrong word away from snapping.

        Daryl paused when he came to the clearing, the place where Rick and the Governor had met before to discuss a truce. That was where Michonne was demanded in exchange for peace, and that was why Merle was ultimately gone in the first place.

        Daryl scanned the surroundings before his eyes landed on a set of tracks. He could tell they were probably Merle's based on the size of shoe and the way the prints were spaced apart. Merle had his own signature walk.

        Eyes glued to the ground, Daryl traced the steps forward. You remained silent at his rear, not even really paying much attention. You weren't a tracker, nor were you a fan of the older Dixon. Well, either of them really, but Daryl wasn't so bad. Rough around the edges maybe, but he had good in him. Merle on the other hand had a habit of making disgusting comments about your body or the other women, and generally being a bigot. His one redeeming quality was that he could be nice sometimes.

        Back at the quarry he'd helped you learn to throw knives and even showed you how to skin a squirrel once. He had good intentions when he wanted to, but those moments were sparsely scattered among his thorns.

        Your thoughts of Merle were halted when you walked into a sturdy back. You made an 'oof' sound as you steadied yourself. "Sorry, I got distracted." You apologized. Daryl didn't respond. He didn't even move. You peeked around his body and gasped.

        A sob escaped Daryl as he brought his hands up to his head and stumbled back. You stepped out of his way, eyes wide as you glanced between the two brothers, one now deceased. As if it couldn't get any worse, the dead one was starting to wake up. You scrunched your nose in disgust as Merle's eyes peeled open, milky spheres where his eyes should have been. His skin was gray and discolored. A lifeless groan pushed past his dry lips.

        Blood stained his clothes as he pushed himself up to his feet, hissing and snapping his jaw at the two of you, aching for a fresh meal.

        As the tall corpse stumbled toward the two of you, you glanced over to Daryl. He was completely distraught. He had to have been, to let you see him like that. You unsheathed your knife -- the one Merle had taught you to use all that time ago -- and raised it, ready to toss it.

        "No!" Daryl threw his arm in front of you. He shoved Merle's body back when it got too close. "No!" Daryl cried again, this time into the abyss. Every time the walker that used to be his brother got close, Daryl shoved him back, gasping and sobbing at the sight of his last connection to his old life; at the sight of what was once his big brother. He wasn't the best brother, but his love for Daryl shone in ways that might have gone unnoticed to the untrained eye. Daryl knew that, and so did you. 

        You blinked, clearing your blurry vision as you gripped your knife, watching the scene unfold before you. The grief, the rage, and most of all the tragedy.

        "Daryl..." You said softly. As much as you sympathized, he needed to end this before it ended one of you. 

        "He's my brother!" Daryl snapped. You pressed your lips shut, taking a breath in through your nose and exhaling slowly. You really wished it were someone else out there now, that someone else could be there to make the hard decisions.

        Daryl shoved Merle one last time before he lost his balance and fell down on his back. As he pushed himself up on his elbows, Merle was already just inches away, reaching down to take a chunk. You couldn't keep waiting for something bad to happen. You raised the hand that gripped your knife, positioning it in your fingers just like Merle had showed you, and took a breath. With one swift motion, the blade flew from your grasp and lodged in Merle's skull. His body crumpled to the ground in a heap.

        "No!" Daryl cried out. "He's my brother! You shoulda let me!" You crouched down behind Daryl and tried to pull him to his feet but he was too heavy, to limp. He gripped at your arms as they wrapped around him. You expected him to rip them away but he just held tight around your forearm, crying so hard that no sound came out.

        You understood what he needed then. You sat down behind him, legs extended on either side of his waist, and just hugged him. He didn't resist or flinch away. Instead his weight collapsed into you as you rocked him and let him cry.

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[tenpintsof-sundrop]

sorry for dragging it on, but i saw your last post. (f the fandom lmao. it’s truly flawed and idk why people can’t keep thoughts to theirselves 🤦)

but i do have one question. did your experience ruin every character? like do you still like Elle, JJ, and Morgan? (the characters i personally consider to be a bit less oversaturated, or who i see much less posts about, and who are also my faves lol)

it's fine, I totally understand that people would have follow ups

no, my enjoyment of the other characters has not been ruined, but I still hesitate to rewatch the show and participate in the fandom because of my mixed feelings about the fandom as a whole.

I still reblog gifsets of JJ and Emily because I can still casually enjoy them, and I would reblog Morgan if I saw more gifsets of him in existence, but people don't gif him enough (if people have any good gifsets of him, please send them my way). I have a fic for Morgan in my drafts that I have been heavily considering finishing, but I haven't quite had the motivation to do so, and same thing with a MILF JJ fic that I drafted out a few weeks ago

I really wouldn't mind posting fics for those characters because they are way less popular and I feel like the crossover between the fans who only watch the show for Spencer (or even fans who don't watch the show at all and just thirst over MGG via tiktoks) and people who enjoy all the characters equally and would enjoy JJ fics and Morgan fics is not a venn diagram but two separate circles.

also, I have such an intense love for Gideon platonically. I feel like there is not nearly enough love and passion in the fandom for Gideon as a pillar character in the series, and I have mentioned it before - how I have a passion for collecting father figures from different series. John Kramer, Gideon, Dale from TWD (and yes, it's because my own father irl is so shit) - and Gideon is a character who truly warms my heart and gives me such a fondness and I would rewatch the show over and over again just for him

also on a side note, one of the biggest flaws of the fandom and one of the huge reasons I don't interact with the fandom and left - while on discussion of JJ and Morgan - is because of the treatment of characters aside from Spencer.

people ruthelessly hate JJ but uphold Emily, because most people believe that Emily is 'canonically' a lesbian, while JJ is in a main het relationship and she is a wife and mother - she gets endlessly criticised for 'choosing' Will over Emily (as if the network would have ever hosted a main queer relationship, and as if the homophobia of the network is the choice of a fucking fictional character to put that blame on), she gets criticised for spending too much time at work instead of being with her kids when one of her main storylines is about her physically fighting to save her child, and yet she's also criticised for being too soft and emotional when one of the best parts of her character is that her empathy as a mother brings a unique perspective to the cases? people act like she's cold and ruthless for not being with her children constantly, yet she's too emotional when she sympathizes with cases involving children???

(like is she a bad mother or not, please fucking decide)

also, I will never forget the post where someone said unironically that JJ 'ruined' Spencer's life by yelling at him one time, that she's a horrible friend to him, and that he loves Henry more than she does. thank you, I'm out

and not to mention how a skinny sickly looking beanpole like Reid and a crusty dusty geriatric liver spotted old man like Hotch get paraded around as if they are the hottest pieces of ass in the world and they have ten thousand fucking fics each and Morgan is suffering for CRUMBS while being the hottest man on the fucking show, and it is literally just because he's black. like the fandom will never say it out loud, but the white men get more attention from fangirls than he does because they are white

the fandom is flawed from the ground-up. and if I did ever finish and posts the fics I have in my drafts, idk if I would still be motivated to post that much about the fandom in general? especially because I am more into Teen Wolf right now because that's what I've been watching (which - I need to pick back up on it).

I do really like discussing the source material because it's something I've been involved with and enjoying for more than a decade now, so idk. if people sent me CM asks I might answer them, I might not. I like discussing and making meta about all the fandoms I'm in because I am fucking yappy in general

[redqueenphoenix]

State Championship (TWD Fan Fic Part 1)

State Championship

(A TWD Fan Fiction)

I do not own any of the rights to The Walking Dead, nor do I own any of the characters mentioned from here on in, other than Victoria Hawkins. Some situations have been changed and some people may have been switched in this alternate universe. 

All characters in this fan fiction are over the age of 21 years old.

Coach Negan Smith X Female OC

Word Count:2236

~*~

Part 1

Victoria walked the halls of her college with a smile as she listened to her headphones. She was in a damn good mood and nothing was going to change that as she carried her gym bag and an overnight bag with her. Today was a big day for her. She was taking her volleyball team to state. 

Her iPod pumped the song “Bulletproof” by La Roux as she pushed open the gym doors.  Some of her team was already there sitting in the bleachers waiting for the coach to come in. Heading over to the bleachers she sat her bags down and took a seat. They were all supposed to be in the gym by nine thirty that morning for their trip to state, everyone was there so now it was all down to the Coach. 

The door on the side opened and in he walked. Victoria sighed as she watched him walk in with a swagger carrying his bags and dropping them in the middle of the gym. Her mind was not paying attention to what he was saying as the music drowned him out, but her eyes were glued to him, undressing him from the black sweatpants and the gray zip up hoodie.

“Miss Hawkins!” He called out with a smirk while snapping his fingers twice at her. 

Shaking her head for a moment she yanked the headphones off, “Sorry, Mr. Smith.”

“You will be when we lose the state game because you are in lala land. Get your head in the game.” Negan turned his attention back to the group of young women, “this game is one of the most important games of your sports career.” He looked down to his watch, “We will be staying overnight upstate so you all better have everything you need for this trip.” He grabbed his bags and motioned with his hands for them to follow to the bus. 

Victoria got up from her seat on the bleachers and fell into line with the rest of her team. Barbie and Samantha quickly caught up to her as they came down the bleachers.

“Vicky, dude you are spacing bad today. He addressed you like three times.” Samantha laughed as she hoisted her bag over her shoulder. 

Barbie chuckled cynically, “you know she was eye fucking him.” She brought her hands up dramatically, lowering her voice. “Ohh, Negan. Fuck me, daddy!” She mocked her friend.

“Shut up!” Victoria slapped her friend in the arm as they got closer to the doors that were being held open for them by Negan.

As they passed through Negan’s eyes went to Victoria with a smirk as he followed behind them. “We’re on bus 22 parked right out in the drive, you can’t miss it and if you do, well then this game is the least of your worries.” He chuckled as they made it to the drive. 

Victoria chuckled as she walked with Barbie and Samantha seeing that bus 22 was the only one in the parking lot. They giggled as she bounced up the stairs with the rest of their team heading for the seats in the middle of the bus while the rest filled up the back.

Victoria tossed her bags into the seat she chose and settled in as Coach Negan overlooked the front of the bus. “Settle in, we got one hell of a long trip to get there, at least two hours or so. So I don't wanna hear any of you complaining on this trip.” He chuckled as his eyes went to Victoria with a smirk.

Rolling her eyes she sunk into her seat slipping her head phones back on, leaving one off to talk to Barbie and Samantha in the seat across from her. She leaned back in the seat as the bus started moving and hit the highway leading upstate.

“So, Tori, are you nervous?” Samanatha asked as she pulled out a book to start reading. 

“Not really, I know with how hard we have been practicing we got this.” She smiled over at her friend. 

“How can you be so sure?” Barbie leaned in front of Samantha with a unsure look. “This is the state championship we are going for. This is the best of the best in the state.”

“I just have a feeling.” She smiled as she noticed that the bus was rather quiet. 

Samantha looked around the bus and noticed that there was no music and everyone was rather quiet. “Man this feels like a funeral rather than a hype bus to state.” She grinned widely, “Wanna cause some chaos?”

Victoria squinted her eyes at Samantha, knowing her special brand of chaos. “Oh, no. We are not going to do what we did to get detention for a week that one time at lunch in highschool.” She watched her friend's smile widened. “No, fuckin’ way! Don’t you do it!”

Barbie grinned with Samantha as they nodded to themselves. “Live a little. Wait, are you embarrassed because Coach Daddy is on the bus.” She mocked her again making big doe eyes and a kissy face. 

“I am not.” She huffed as she took off her headphones and stashed her iPod in her backpack. “Fine, but if I die of embarrassment you guys can't come to my funeral acting a fool!” She cleared her throat preparing to make an absolute fool out of herself. She began to sing with Samantha as loud as they could to the most perverse song they knew.

“I know what you wanna hear.” Victoria started off the song feeling the blush creep to her cheeks as she sang.

“'Cause I know you want me, baby, I think I want you too.” Samantha picked right up with her.

Soon Victoria lost her embarrassment as she sang loudly with Samantha as Barbie joined in. “I think I love you, baby, I think I love you too. I'm here to save you, girl, come be in Shady's world. I wanna grow together, let's let our love unfurl. You know you want me, baby, you know I want you too. They call me Superman, I'm here to rescue you. I wanna save you, girl, come be in Shady's world. Oh boy, you drive me crazy, bitch, you make me hurl.” 

Victoria smirked as the back of the bus joined in with the three of them singing. She stopped for a few moments to giggle as she chanced to lean over the back of the seat she was in to sing with her teammate Aubrie. “First thing you say: I'm not fazed, I hang around big stars all day. I don't see what the big deal is anyway, you're just plain old Marshall to me.”

“Ooh yeah, girl, run that game!” Samantha called out over the group.

The bus got quieter as Victoria belted out the next part of the song with her back to the front getting into the song. “Hailie Jade, I love that name. Love that tattoo, what's that say? "Rot In Pieces," uh, that's great. First off, you don't know Marshall, at all, so don't grow partial. That's ammo for my arsenal. I'll slap you off that bar stool. There goes another lawsuit. Leave handprints all across you. Good Lordy, whoadie. You must be gone off that water bottle.” As she sang she noticed that the rest of her team had gone quiet and their eyes were wide as she felt a knee go into her seat. 

“You want what you can't have. Ooh girl, that's too damn bad…” Negan’s deep voice said next to her as he looked over at her with a smirk. His hand grabbed the back of her shirt and pulled her down into the seat. “First off that song… not cute. Second, don't be standing on the bus.” His eyes went over to Samantha who was standing up as well. “Same goes for you Samantha.”

Victoria blushed brightly as she turned to the window, hearing him chuckle as he walked back to sit a few seats up. As soon as she knew he had left her seat she looked over to Barbie and Samantha who were grinning ear to ear at her. Throwing an annoyed look and a shrug she put her headphones back on and shuffled through her music. Finding a song that she could get lost in as she settled back into her seat. 

A hand came around the back of her seat tugging on her shirt, turning she saw Aubrie leaning around to talk to her. Taking her headphones and draping them around her neck.

“That was fun.” Aubrie smiled as she closed her book. “Though your choice in song was a little outlandish.” She reached up to adjust her black ponytail. 

Victoria tucked a red curl behind her ear and rolled her eyes, “yeah, true.” She adjusted herself half way into the aisle to talk to Aubrie. “But it was fun though.” 

“It was shocking to know that Coach Smith knew the next line though.” Barbie laughed as she chimed in. 

“Hell yeah it was.” Victoria burst out laughing with the girls as she blushed. 

“Ohh.” Aubrie’s eyes widened as she tucked herself back into the seat.

“Daddy alert.” Samantha laughed as she watched Coach Negan come back down the aisle.

His hands came to rest on the seats in front of her as he leaned over the seat, “Vicky, care to join me up front? We can discuss game plans.” His hand came over the seat with a motion for her to give him her gym bag.

Victoria blushed slightly as she handed her gym bag to him and he turned to get out of the seat and head to the front. Shooting a look over at Barbie and Samantha as music played around her neck. She hoisted her overnight bag over her shoulder and headed up the seats he sat at.

Negan stopped by where he was sitting, placing her gym bag in the seat across from his then motioned for her to sit down by the window. 

She nodded as she slipped into the seat feeling a touch bashful. Placing her bag against the window as she sat down. Her nerves kicked into high gear as Negan sat down next to her with a smile, it was almost like he knew what his presence did to her and he loved it.

“You ready for tonight?” He tilted his head towards her ear a bit as he spoke.

“Yes. I think we have a solid chance of taking the state championship.” She responded as she fiddled with her nails.

He chuckled, “confident, I like that.” Leaning back he tilted his black hat down over his eyes exposing his soft black curls a bit. Folding his hands in his lap while his legs were slightly open. Clearly relaxing as they traveled. 

Slipping her headphones back on and setting her iPod on her leg as she dug through her bag to find the book she was reading. ‘50 Shades of Grey’ was the title of the book she was currently reading, recommended to her by her best friend Barbie. Flipping her book open to the book mark she settled in and began to read.

After a while she noticed a smirk tugging at his lips as her Ipod switched songs. ‘Maneater’ by Nelly Furtado blared in her ears. Very quickly she realized that he was not asleep. Embarrassment creeped up on her as she realized he probably saw what she was reading too. 

His hand lazily came up to the headphones that were on her ear and slid it to the side, “you can cut the shit, doll. I know you like me.” 

Her jaw dropped open as he leaned back as if nothing had just happened. “What?” She muttered in disbelief.

He chuckles as his hand comes over to the book in her hands and plucks it from her grasp, his finger holding her place. “50 Shades of Grey? Really?” Negan tilted his hat back and looked at her. “You can’t possibly be serious?”

“It’s popular.” Victoria smirked as she reached for her book.

Negan’s free hand came up and grabbed her wrist, leaning into her ear whispering, “It’s a bunch of lies.”

Victoria felt butterflies in her chest as he spoke in her ear, “and how would you know?”

Without a warning his hand moved from her wrist to the back of her neck, grabbing a handful of her hair and bringing her lips to his in a needy kiss.

Fireworks exploded in Victoria’s head as she closed her eyes. Her heart hammered in her chest as his soft lips pressed into hers. She leaned into him as she began to kiss him back when suddenly he broke the kiss, pulled back and walked up to the front of the bus as if nothing happened. Leaving Victoria breathless and dizzy in her seat, trying to wrap her head around what just happened.

~*~

Part Two

[bookqueenrules]

I go back and forth on Beth being alive and TPTB just being shitty writers who needed a shock value death. The back half of season 5 was so hard to get through cause I just wanted answers. Then sometimes I think 5x08 was just a shitty last minute rewrite because we know so much else was filmed and there was a shit ton of symbolism throughout the first half that meant her living. I still can’t get over the car scene in 5x10 or the coda after she gets shot. That’s the worst part is not having answers. But you’re 100% right. If they want viewers back then they NEED to shake it up. Stop writing in circles.

Hi,

I think the truth is that we can't be 100% sure of anything. I would refer you to the AMAZING twdmusicboxmystery and her fellow theorist for all of the symbolism and weirdness pointing to Beth's return. I love analyzing the symbols too, but I also look at the practical.

So, the whole purpose of this spin-off is Daryl's happy ending, right? Judith says this to him as he is LEAVING Carol and Jude. So, how could just making it back home to them be his happy ending? It can't. Sorry to Carly fans, but they ended the flagship with Carol/Zeke rebuilding their relationship and yet another BEST FRIEND declaration from both Daryl and Carol. It won't be adding a romance with Carol as his happy ending. He could have had that any time in the last few seasons.

Will it be Isabelle? A French nun? How is that going to work in the TWD universe? Daryl WILL, at some point, have to go home. I have more thoughts on why it won't be Isabelle in the previous ask.

Connie? That has been firmly cemented as a friend only relationship. Daryl and Connie had a couple of years to pursue something and never did.

A new character? Not likely. The fans wouldn't accept it, and, practically speaking, the first two seasons of DD are filming in France, so the character would have some of the same issues as Isabelle does as Daryl's happy ending.

Beth was taken away from Daryl before their relationship could develop further, but even though we don't "see" it go full romance, Daryl is devastated and inconsolable for quite some time at her loss. He doesn't react the same to loosing anyone else. Did he burn himself over Merle or Rick? No. That should speak volumes to the audience. She has tons of ties to the remaining TWD characters. Practically, it is hard to make a case for it being anyone BUT Beth.

But, she's dead, right? On FTWD the have brought back not one but TWO core characters the audience thought were dead for MANY years this season. The original working title of the DD spin-off was Raise the Dead! The whole TWDU is about raising the dead!

Fun Fact: According to the University of Google, a person has 42% of surviving a gunshot wound to the head if they receive medical treatment. The last time we saw Beth she was at Grady. We didn't see her buried or what happened to her body. This is EASY writing to bring her back.

Here is something interesting Angela Kang, who is a TWD showrunner and an executive producer of DD, said about Leah. When questioned she said they had NEVER planned to show Leah/Daryl kissing, COVID or not, because they knew where the story was going. She said they wanted to save Daryl's first on screen kiss for something monumental. When he really kisses someone, a romantic lip to lip, we will know that's it.

So, the writers have been holding out not having, IMO, their sexiest male lead even KISS anyone for 12 years! Why? The only sane answer is that had a plan all along. The plan may have been delayed or altered slightly, but Beth has always been the plan. They have stuck to that. I believe she will show up, but I am concerned that their continuing to delay bringing her back and restarting her story will negatively impact the spin-off, and the story they end up telling.

I know that was a LONG answer but thank you for the ask!