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sinsandsweetness · 9 months

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something about hyperfeminine reader x rick.... another anon said he'd adore pink nail polish & i so totally agree. maybe cause he's so rough and sharp edged? and it's the very opposite of him? so the pretty pink skirts & sweet perfume you always wear would make his brain fuzzy in the best way !! 🤧

using this as an excuse to write something extremely self indulgent 🤍 obsessed with this sweet, girly, almost bimbo reader that Rick can’t help but be a little extra soft with… <3

When he steps out of the shower and onto the bathmat, he can’t help but smile at the sight of you sitting on the sink, one foot up and crouched over, focused intently on the toenail you’re currently painting. And he can’t help but notice how cute it is that your tongue is poking out the side of your mouth.

Rick rubs a towel on his hair and then wraps it around his waist, walking over to the dresser in the bedroom and grabbing some boxers. You’re a little too immersed in perfecting the pale pink pedicure to notice that he even finished his shower.

“Need some help?” He asks, coming up to the sink and reaching into a drawer. Grabbing some shaving cream and a safety razor.

You look up at the sound of his husky voice. Taking in the sight of his wet hair. Curls forming and dripping onto his shoulders. His torso, glistening with little beads of water that are racing to meet the waist band of his plaid boxer shorts.

“Hm?” You say. The sight of him went straight between your legs, making you almost immediately forget his question.

“D’you need some help there, sweetie?” He nods towards the hand gripping at Essie’s ballet slippers.

“Oh. No, I just finished. Thank you though,” you smile up at him sweetly, screwing the cap back on the bottle and turning to let your legs dangle off the marble countertop.

He positions himself in between your legs and against the vanity, while you lean back on your hands. Watching his brows draw together in focus as he rubs shaving cream along his jaw, his chin and the bottom half of his face. Grabbing the razor, he starts to make long, languid strokes down his face and neck. The blade moving with ever curve of his jaw, so smooth and intentional. But he can feel you staring. Glancing from the mirror to your gaze and then back. Trying to fight the smirk from forming on his face.

“Is it hard?” You ask, oblivious to the teasing grin on his face.

“Shaving?”

“Yeah. Aren’t you scared you’re gonna cut yourself, or somethin’?” You ask, doe eyes wide and curious. And the sight makes him think about you on your knees, having looked up at him in nearly the exact same way, all sweet and eager and so fucking perfect.

Rick shakes his head, at both the intrusive thought and your question, “Not really. Don’t you shave your legs? It’s the same thing, sweetheart.”

“But this is on your face. And you’ve seen how many times I end up nicking myself.”

He smiles, knowing that it’s true. Watching you sit on the side of the tub, silky robe leaving very little to the imagination as you glide a razor up your legs, trying to go nice and slow and get every little hair. Turning sharply to look at him with wide eyes and a hand on your mouth when you both notice a crimson droplet, trickling all the way down to your ankle.

“Yeah. You aren’t so good at that are you?” He chuckles, pressing a quick peck to your mouth which you immediately wipe off because now there’s shaving cream on your nose.

It takes everything in his power not to kiss you again.

“So how do you always get it so good?” Your honeyed voice brings him back.

“Practice I guess. You wanna try?”

“And leave you with any more scars? No thank you.” You joke.

“C’mon. Give it a try.”

“You sure?”

He nods, urging the razor into your hand and leaning in for you, “Mhm. I trust you.”

You gulp at that comment. Hoping he can still keep that trust in a few minutes when you’re all done.

You try to copy what he was doing, going extra slow over the ridge of his jaw and the bump of his adam’s apple. He hums in approval and you take it as some kind of praise. Sitting up straight and a little more confident now that his hands have moved to your hips, pulling you to the edge of the counter. Panties now flush with his groin.

“I did it.” You say triumphantly, handing him back the razor and letting your hands slide around his waist, fingers interlocking on top of his tailbone. Cheek pressed to his chest as he leans forward to rinse the razor under the faucet beside you. Tapping the metal on the counter twice. The sound echoing through the room, before he places it on a folded towel on the other side of the sink.

He leans back up to look at you. Pretty eyes and pouty lips. Hair all soft and natural, and tucked behind the dainty gold jewelry dangling from your ears.

“Y’look so pretty.” You marvel, one hand coming up to his jaw. Freshly shaved, so smooth and warm. With just the tiniest strip of leftover shaving cream that needed to be washed off.

You are so much prettier, sweet girl, he thinks to himself. Unable to form a verbal answer now that you’re touching his face. His heart doing somersaults like it was the first time. It isn’t. But he loves feeling like it is.

Being with you in this moment makes him forget what was stressing him out before his shower. Completely unbothered by the tedious week he’d had helping the Tobin with the walls.

Now, all he can even think about is you. Your face. Your voice. Your long legs and the holy temple in between them.

He closes his eyes at your touch, soft and delicately tracing your way down his jaw. The attention sending a tingly, serene feeling up his neck and down his spine.

He can’t even help what he does next. Not that he really needed to. And definitely not that he wanted to. He pulls you in, tangling his fingers into the locks at the nape of your neck. Kissing your soft, plush lips and tracing a tongue over your bottom one.

You taste like candy. And you smell like a vanilla cupcake. And the combination of the two makes him want nothing more than to take a damn bite.

Gosh, you couldn’t be more different from him. So pure and soft and sweet. So fucking kind and perfect. And though he may be a bit biased given your relationship and all, he’s positive that not a soul in Alexandria would disagree.

Your breath hitches in your throat as he pulls your legs around his waist, and he can’t help but smile against your lips and think to himself how fucking lucky he is that he found someone who can be his escape. Who can make his brain feel all fuzzy and his heart feel way too full. Who effortlessly distracts him from everything that’s wrong with in the world, just by being your beautiful self.

#rick grimes smut #rick grimes x y/n #Rick fluff #Rick grimes fluff #Rick grimes suggestive #rick grimes fanfiction #twd fanfiction #rick grimes #rick grimes x female reader #rick grimes imagine #Rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x you #Rick daydream #t’s daydreams <3 #hyperfeminine reader #hyperfeminine reader x Rick

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thegeorgiahuntsman · 5 months

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Daryl Dixon in Every Episode - Beside the Dying Fire (S02E013)

Why does this Season look like it's been filmed on a damn microwave🙄

#the walking dead #twd #daryl dixon #norman reedus #rick grimes #glenn rhee #maggie greene #beth greene #t-dog #carol peletier #Finally onto the prison next post #beside the dying fire

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battleswanofciya · 6 months

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TWD incorrect quotes cuz I’m obsessed now

Carol: you have to apologize to Shane

Daryl: fine

Daryl: unfuck you, or whatever

Daryl, Carol, and Maggie sitting on a bench with a deflated look

Rick: why are the three of you sitting sad like that?

Maggie: sit with us so we can tell you

Rick *sitting down*: well?

Daryl: this bench is freshly painted

Rick: ...

Carol: yeah, they did it to me too

Glenn, texting Maggie: text me when you’re home safely

Maggie: I’m home dangerously

Glenn: stop it

Maggie: I’m home lethally

Carol: I’m gonna count to three

Daryl: what did I do?

Carol: one

Daryl, running away: wHaT dId I dO?!?!

Beth, about Andrea: what’s wrong with her?

Daryl: everyone has a different theory

Carol: if you took a shot for every time you made a bad decision, how drunk would you be?

Maggie: maybe a little tipsy

Daryl: drunk

Lori: wasted

Andrea: dead

Maggie, calling Beth: Where are you?

Beth: I waved to a man because I thought he was waving at me. Apparently he was waving to the guy behind me so to get out of the awkward situation I kept my hand up so a taxi pulled over and took me to the train station. I am now in California, I should be back by Thursday.

Maggie: Wha-

Glenn: Understandable. Have a nice day

Glenn, after briefing another plan: thoughts?

Daryl: and prayers. Holy shit.

Maggie: I have the urge to do something stupid

Glenn: I’m stupid, do me

Rick: I left instructions for everyone while I’m gone

Andrea: mine just says ‘Andrea no’

Rick: and I want you to apply that to every possible situation

Dale: I swear to God I’m the only one here with a brain cell

Daryl, T-Dog, Rick, Shane, and Glenn: ALL HAIL THE KEEPER OF THE BRAIN CELL!!!

#twd #the walking dead #daryl dixon #beth greene #maggie greene #glenn rhee #rick grimes #shane walsh #carol peletier #lori grimes #carl grimes #t-dog #andrea harrison #twd incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes

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rickswh0r3 · 1 year

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my favorite bts photos from season three ❤️

#the walking dead #rick grimes #andrew lincoln #daryl dixon #norman reedus #carl grimes #t dog #maggie rhee #glenn rhee #hershel greene #lori grimes #twd #twd season 3 #michonne

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banshees-martin · 2 months

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the early seasons of twd will always hold a special place in my heart

#the walking dead #early seasons #rick grimes #lori grimes #carl grimes #t dog #dale horvath #glenn rhee #nostalgia #andrea harrison #twd shane #carol peletier #sophia peletier #daryl dixon

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softestnatalie · 7 months

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Abandoned corridors of the heart

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x female!reader

Timing: Season 1

Chapter Summary: Your group arrives at the CDC and things don't go exactly as planned. Daryl seems to regret the words he’s said.

Warnings: alcohol use, characther death, dead bodies

Autor's note: I really love this chapter 'cause Daryl and reader finally have their first honest moment together (even tho they're drunk lol). Also, I am so sorry for the long wait, school is really time consuming, but I hope you can unterstand. Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated and the support would really help me. Have fun reading <3

Chapter 4: Just for one moment

Your eyes followed Jim as the van started moving again, his body leaning against a tree with his eyes closed as he tried to fall asleep in peace. Your heart cracked a little more at the state he was in; his skin bright red and glowing, showing how much he must have been burning up from the inside, the droplets of sweat running down his face and neck only proving the point.

He refused to go any further with you and your group, his body hurting unbearably and the fear of putting just a single one of his people in danger because of his bite made him stay right there - beside the road - as the rest of you drove away.

Leaving him behind hurt you more than you'd like to admit, your hands grabbing the fabric of your dirty jeans harshly as you forced yourself to let him go. You hadn't known him for long - only four days - but he was kind - kind enough to let you stay with him and his friends even though none of them knew you.

With a heavy sigh leaving your lips, you sat down on your knees, still looking out the window and watching as the woods around you blurred when Dale sped up the van. It was quiet - awfully quiet - and the tension inside the moving vehicle was thick enough to cut with a knife, the loss of yet another member of the group affecting everybody.

"You okay?" Glenn whispered after a few more minutes of silence, trying to be as private as possible, though you were sure the others could hear him just fine.

You didn't react at first and Glenn thought that maybe you didn't even realise he was talking to you but then you turned your head, staring at him with an expression he could only describe as pained. You nodded slowly even though both of you knew it was a lie.

The asian boy bit his lip in concern, not sure if he should just drop it, "You sure?" He whispered again after a moment, deciding to ask you a second time.

And as if that one simple question was enough to hurt you, your facade crumbled, the blank expression you had on your face molded into a quivering lip and furrowed eyebrows. Before you could do anything to stop it, your throat clenched tightly as a sob broke through. It was too much for you. Death and blood was all you could see in that moment - three people in just one night; Amy, Jim, and your mother. Deep down you'd always known that she'd leave someday, sooner ot later. It wasn't supposed to be this soon though.

Gleen's eyebrows shot up in shock when he heard your cries, looking around and seeing everyone's eyes directed on your tiny figure. He hesitated for a second before he reached out his arm, wrapping it around your shoulder and pulling you into his side carefully, trying to give you a small piece of comfort. Though it only made you cry harder. Your nails were digging into your palms, your body tensing as you wished to be somewhere else - alone.

Andrea placed one of her hands over yours, squeezing it softly and telling you silently that she understood your pain. You didn't look at her but you were thankful.

A few hours later, the van stopped in front of a road blockade. Glenn stood up, forcing you to lift your head off of his chest as you got back on your feet as well, following him out of the vehicle. Your arm flew over your face - covering your mouth and nose - as soon as you stepped outside, the corpses on the street making the air smell way too bad.

The group stumbled over the dead bodies, Shane and Rick leading all of you to the huge, white building with their guns raised, ready to shoot if something was to attack them.

"Keep moving, come on," Rick said, looking behind him to make sure everybody was following along.

Shane tried to pull up the shutters while Rick banged on them, trying to get inside or to make whoever was living in that building realise you were there. Though nobody showed a sign of letting you all in and you figured the CDC was empty.

You jumped when Daryl started yelling all of a sudden, raising his crossbow, "Walkers!"

Before you could even react on your own, Glenn grabbed your shoulder, forcing to to hide behind him, shotgun in hand and ready to shoot, "Stay there, okay?" He looked at you with a worried yet serious expression, "Right behind me, you understand?"

You nodded in agreement. Not only because you trusted him but also beause you didn't have any kind of weapon with you, making it quite impossible for you to protect yourself.

Everybody was tense and disappointed, the hope of getting help - maybe even some kind of cure - gone. Just gone. Shane was trying to think of another plan - another place for you to go - while Rick didn't want to accept your defeat.

"You're killing us! You're killing us!" He screamed repeatedly as he continued to bang on the shutters. And it was honestly starting to scare you, the noise attracting even more walkers, Daryl taking care of them.

"There's no one there!" Shane yelled and grabbed Rick roughly by the collar of his sheriff uniform, pulling him away and forcing him to come with the rest of the group.

And just then, the shutters opened, a bright light making you wince and cover your eyes.

Everybody's movements paused, looking at the now open building in shock - almost disbelief. Someone was there. A doctor. Alive. Your mouth dropped slightly as you realised there was still a chance. Hope.

"Come on," Glenn whispered to you, following Rick and Shane inside in small, carful steps.

The inside was - you didn't even know how to describe it - but you guessed beautiful was an accurate word. Clean. It looked almost innocent - as if everything was still normal.

"Hello?" Rick called out.

The clicking sound of a gun was heard, "Anybody infected?" A blonde, old looking man made his way towards you, keeping his gun raised.

Rick swallowed loudly, "One of our group was," he lowered his head, "He didn't make it."

The mention of Jim made another frown appear on your face, thinking that if the doctor in front of you had any kind of medicine to stop the infection, Jim wouldn't be able to recieve it anymore.

"Why are you here? What do you want?" The man asked so quickly you almost couldn't understand his words.

"A chance," you spoke up when nobody knew what to say, "We want a chance."

The man's eyes drifted towards you, noticing you for the first time. He seemed to think about your words before he eventually agreed, "You all submit to a blood test."

Later that night, Jenner let you all have dinner with him and to say you were fascinated by the dishes on the table would be an understatement. Real food, right in front of you, something you all hadn't seen in weeks. It made you crack a tiny smile, being beyond grateful for the doctor's hospitality.

"You know, in Italy, children have a little bit of wine with dinner," Dale laughed as he filled Lori's glass with the red substance, "And in France."

Lori shook her head and covered Carl's glass with her hand, taking a sip of her wine, "Well, and when Carl is in Italy or France, he can have some."

The group laughed again and everyone seemed to be in a good mood for once, wearing big smiles and grins on their faces. And even though you were still really sad about your recent loss, you managed to have a good time, laughing when Carl was allowed to taste a tiny sip, watching as he swallowed it with a grimace, an 'ewww' leaving his lips.

"Now ya, (y/n)," Daryl's voice surprised you, "I wanna see how red yer face can get," He walked towards you with a wine bottle in his left hand and, surprisingly, with his lips formed in a teasing smile. You didn't think you would ever get to see Daryl smile. Acutally smile.

"Oh no, no no," you shook your head and waved your hands around, but it was no use, he was already filling your glass up, not even giving you time to take it yourself. Instead, he took it with one hand, the other grabbing the back of your head as he brought the glass up to your lips, making you drink a bit of it.

"Here, easy, girl," he said as he put the glass on the table, the group laughing once again when they saw your pursed lips, the red liquid running down the corners of your mouth.

"You got a little something on your face," Glenn teased as you swallowed and used your arm to clean your chin.

"Ha ha," you poked your tongue at him before chuckling as well, then looking at Daryl, who was still grinning.

If a little bit of alcohol gets him like this, I'll have to get him drunk more often, you thought. It was nice to see him in a better mood, less serious and guarded. And if you were being as open as you could be; the dimples that formed when he smiled looked quite pretty on him. You have had thoughts like that before - about him - but you chose to ignore them whenever they came up at night, knowing it was for the better, wanting to protect your heart from any more pain. And even though it might sound harsh; Daryl wasn't really the type of man your mother would have approved of.

After dinner, Jenner showed you the rooms your group could stay in. 6. Exactly 6 rooms - which of course wasn't enough for everybody to have their own, so the rooms had to get shared. Rick with Lori and Carl, Dale with Andrea, Carol with Sophia, T-Dog with Jacqui, and Shane with Glenn, leaving you with Daryl.

Glenn gave you an apologetic look as he walked off with Shane, making you pout like a little child. You were hoping to share a room with him since he was the closest to you out of the group. You were also quite drunk after Daryl had poured you another glass, and staying with said man - who apparently only liked you when he was inebriated - was making you a little too nervous.

He swung his arm over your shoulder, pulling you into him with a rather rough motion which made you yelp in surprise, "Come on, girl," he slurred his words and you were honsetly a little scared he wouldn't even remember the night the next morning, "Let's get us to bed," he started walking the both of you into the room, closing the door with his foot, almost slamming it shut, the loud noise ringing through the hallway.

"I can take the floor," you said, looking at the single bed - blanket folded neatly on top of it - and untangling his arm from around your neck. You waited a few seconds but when you didn't get an answer, you looked into his direction.

Big mistake.

"Daryl!" you exclaimed, averting your eyes as quickly as they had found him, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Gonna take a shower," he mumbled and eyed you a little confused once he had the buttons off his shirt open, his chest still covered though, "Wha', barbie? Never seen skin 'fore?" He walked into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

You scoffed at his words, rolling your eyes and plopping down on the bed, waiting for Daryl to finish his shower so you could wash yourself as well. Again, something you all hadn't done in weeks. You took the time alone to sober up a little bit, your brain becoming only the tiniest bit clearer.

You were hoping your group could stay here on long terms. Doctor Jenner didn't tell you how long your group was allowed to be there, but if everything turned out to be as good as it seemed, you really thought your group had a chance of actually living at the CDC. If Jenner let you, that is. You would be safe, the shutters making sure that no walker could ever get inside, enough food and water for at least a few months, and real beds to sleep on. Almost as normal as the life each of you had had before the apocalypse started. Almost.

"'M done," his gruff voice pulled you out of your thoughts, your eyes finding his frame, dressed into the same, dirty clothes with his hair wet and drops of water dripping down his forehead.

You nodded and stood up, rushing into the bathroom with quite a lot of eagerness, "You better didn't use up all the hot water," you spoke loud enough so he could hear you through the door. He didn't anwser.

You took your clothes off hastily and you couldn't help the loud sigh that left your lips when the dirty garments were finally not on your skin anymore. The thought of having to put them on again disgusted you. The cold air made goosebumps rise on your pale body so you finally stepped inside the shower and turned on the water. Your mouth opened in a silent moan once the warm substance hit you, your head dropping back, savoring the sensation you hadn't felt in so long.

The transparent liquid turned into a brownish colour as you rubbed your skin, getting weeks of dirt and the proof of basically living on the streets off of you. It was quite fascinating how something so normal - something people used to do on a daily basis - can become something so special once it gets taken away from them. And you were sure that if life would ever return to normal, you would appreciate every single meal, every single shower, and every single night you would get to sleep on a bed.

A few minutes later, you turned off the water, wishing you could stay inside the shower a little longer, but you didn't want to use too much of the doctor's water, so you stepped out with another sigh, shivering at the cold once again as your body had to get used to the air. You dried yourself with a towel before you put your clothes back on, taking a mental note to wash them as soon as possible.

The mirror on the wall showed you what you had been so scared of seeing and you really couldn't even recognise yourself anymore. You felt as if a completely different person - a stranger - was staring back at you. Your skin much paler than you had ever seen it before, cheekbones and jawline way more visible than they had been just a few weeks ago, eye bags decorating your face, and your hair was - even though you brushed it as often as possible - tangled.

The sight made you frown visibly. Who even were you anymore?

You didn't want to have to see your reflection any longer so you left the bathroom in a hurry. Though, you stopped in your tracks when you saw Daryl lying on the floor right next to the bed. His body was slightly curled up and he didn't move so you guessed he was already asleep. You didn't miss the fact that he purposely left the bed to you, though, you didn't know if that made you feel happy or frustrated. You didn't want him to sleep on the floor because of you and, really, you would have been fine with taking the hard surface. And if he would have been awake you certainly would have argued with him, but he wasn't and you didn't want to wake him up. He didn't seem to sleep that much as it was so you climbed into bed as silently as possible, not wanting to make too much noise.

"Didn' mean it," you had just laid down when his voice rang through the room in a quiet whisper, making you turn your head to look into his direction, even though you couldn't properly see him from where you were laying.

"What do you mean?" You asked him, not knowing what he was talking about.

It was quiet fot a few seconds and you were sure that he really had fallen asleep this time but then he spoke up again, "What I said," he started, "At the camp. 'Bout y'all deservin' what happened. Didn' mean it."

You thought about his words and realised that this was probably his was of saying sorry. You didn’t think he would even try to apologise but there he was, telling you he didn't mean what he had said. And maybe he didn't notice, but the small smile on your face showed how much that meant to you. You hoped he would be just as nice to you when he was fully sober, but a part of you was sure he wouldn't be. Still, the fact that he cared about what you thought was enough for you in that moment.

"I know."

Tag list:

@goth-cowgirl-03 @paintlavillered @hotgirlsshareaccounts @tiedyedghoulette @alialiclouds @angelofthorr

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havin-fun-imagining-twd · 1 month

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Shame on a plate

Happy St. Patrick's Day, slowpokes!

When -- several minutes after Stuck in a damn bed. , after Shane blew up, and you found out that not only Dale, but Maggie saw, too.

What -- Sophia's still missing, Daryl and Carl have one more day in the house on bed rest, and you're dealing with the aftermath of your big brother Shane's actions in the previous chapter and the fact that others saw. The biggest thing you feel is shame.

Relationships -- Found family you and the gang! Lol, always a slow burn Daryl x Reader, there's also some platonic Glenn, brotherly Rick, and Maggie gets protective her new friend (you), and Papa Dale is there

Perspective -- 2nd You, 3rd Daryl

Pronouns -- none

TWs -- other than the hideous screenshot above, there's some language and discussion of abusive patterns and behaviors

How long is it? -- around 4,000 words

Masterlist -- Official one here and Chronological one here

In this chapter, Reader is struggling with shame, guilt and confusion over how Shane treated them at the end of the previous chapter.

Remember, being hurt by a loved one is not okay. If they are hurting you, they are doing something bad to you. Abuse is not earned or deserved. You are worthy of being safe and unhurt.

For help getting safe, you can call the Domestic Violence Hotline (USA) at 800-799-7233, chat online, or text START to 88788.

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

“No, nothin’ like it before, ever.”

Her fingers tap tap tapped against the book in her hands. “I don’t like it. Daddy’s been uncomfortable around him, then I see this happen.”

You twisted your mouth. “It was an argument between siblings.”

“If it was an argument, then why didn’t I see you arguin’ back?”

Stupid, stupid idiot. It kept playing in your head, that refrain. It had a different spin than it did at first. See, at first, your brain repeated it because you’d given yourself fault for what happened, how Shane just…you don’t know what happened. But he behaved very badly.

But then, the refrain kept repeating over and over because you didn’t walk away or fight back when Shane started hurti acting like he did.

You did nothing.

It was the one thing you were not supposed to do. The thing Shane and your Mama always warned you never to do when things got scary. The thing Shane had literally just gotten done practicing with you so that you’d know even more than you already know about how and when to fight back.

All that effort and still, you froze.

Stupid, stupid idiot. You stupid, stupid idiot.

You had to clear your throat. “Beth didn’t see, too, right? Just you?” you hushed. The girl was already timid and uneasy about your group, If she saw what happened, it was the nail in the coffin if you couldn’t fix this.

“No, I was the only one by the window.”

“So he wasn’t too loud, then.” Which meant only Margaret and Dale knew. Your shoulders felt lighter.

“Y/N,” Maggie said to you. “You seem more concerned with others not seein’ what went on.”

“Well, yeah, I’m worried they’d overreact.”

She tilted her chin up and placed her hands on her hips. “Oh, is that what I’m doing? Was my comin’ to check on you an overreaction?”

“No, no, not at all!” you quickly apologized. “Not at all! I’m, I’m happy you care enough.”

“You’re a good person and you’re my friend, which is why I don’t want to tiptoe around this. What your brother just did was bad. You know that was abusive, right?”

Maybe scoffing at her heartfelt, caring statement wasn’t your best idea, but 'abusive' was such a strong word…right? “He’s my brother, and it was a one-off, I done told you.”

“I’m not sure I believe it when you say that,” she next had the audacity to claim. “You haven’t even been makin’ eye contact with me.”

Oh, you want eye contact? I’ll give you eye contact, bitch.

Your inner tea kettle was shrieking to be taken off the burner, and you could not have cared less. “You callin’ me a liar? Calling my brother an abuser? Rich words from someone I’ve barely known two weeks!”

Before any more was said, Dale inserted himself into the conversation, the thing he said he wouldn’t do. “If you want to keep your conversation private, I suggest not raising your voices.”

Maggie’s arms were crossed. She stared hard at you, but spoke calmly. “Sometimes when things are unhealthy, those looking in from the outside can see it better. And I know what I saw.”

“A sibling fight,” you whispered as gently as you could, feeling so heated. “You, you, y-you saw a sibling fight, those can get nasty.” She’s wrong, she’s wrong, she’s not, she’s not.

“You know what? I don’t have time for your pushback if you don’t have time to consider what somebody who’s concerned about you says, Y/N.”

More shame was added to your plate.

Her leaving shouldn’t have felt so awful, but it did. You covered your eyes and exhaled, as if that would help get rid of the worst of it. You then told God how much you hated this, immediately followed by the opposite, as you cursed yourself a little more, why not? You stupid, stupid idiot.

Not only did you disappoint (and insult) your new friend, but you worried it was another strike against your group. Lori and Carl need this place, it’s safe, it’s good, it’s — you stupid, stupid idiot!

But just like that, Maggie then called your name again as Dale was stepping toward you. You turned to see her facing you once more, no longer walking away.

“If this was a dating situation, what would you think about how he behaved, what he did?” she challenged.

As unfair as you thought the comparison was, the answer hit you in the face. Pun not intended, shit, um… at any rate, having Dale close by helped to ease you into the checkmate that Margaret just finished you with.

You hated your answer.

Because if you saw Shane behaving toward a romantic partner the same way he just behaved with you, you know exactly what you’d think and how you’d react. It wouldn’t be a gray situation, it would be black and white.

More shame for the plate. More guilt. More unease, more dread.

Eyes to the grass, you swallowed your pride. “I’d see it the way you see it.”

Maggie shifted her weight from the right to left, then back again, uncertain. “Will you tell Rick?”

You hesitated, too. After all, you’re an adult. You could be married with children at your age, you couldn’t just—“Tattle that Shane…got huffy, lost his cool?”

“Don’t oversimplify, kiddo, you’re smarter than that,” Dale muttered. He and Shane don’t get on (zero idea why, since Dale and you get on so well!) so this is just more bad press against your brother and more shame for your plate.

“But it’s, it’s not that dramatic, none of this has to be dramatic,” you insisted.

Dale answered again. “Then talking to Rick about it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Rick’s family,” Maggie agreed. “So, he’s seems like the best person to help.”

A child in a grown-up’s body is what you felt like. Helpless, naïve, clueless. You stupid, stupid idiot.

They were right, though, Rick could fix this, he could talk to Shane, figure out what that was. And even better — agreeing with Maggie and Dale would get them off your back! For real, what were they doing, an intervention? Because Shaney poked you a little, gave you a little push?

The words felt sinful, but you said them anyway.“I-I’ll, um, I’ll talk to him. I’ll talk to Rick.” And, of course, you were then obligated because you despise dishonesty.

Maggie nodded, then put her thumbs in her pockets. Dale nodded and looked at the two of you, then all around. It was very uncomfortable.

It would be nice if instead of real life, this was a TV show or book, you remember thinking. The audience isn’t usually shown the awkward parts in TV or books, would be a waste of time.

“Y/N,” Maggie spoke, breaking the silence. “We have a raspberry thicket by the south-facing property line.” She pointed in the direction. “Completely overgrown. I’m gonna go back in, finish what I was doin’, but let’s go pick some together later, okay? I’ll come find you in a little while?” She smiled hopefully at you, with some pity thrown in.

Returning the smile, you hoped it made you look put-together and self-aware and confident instead of the shameful, idiotic mess you felt like. “That sounds delicious.”

The moment ended, and she went back toward the house. You heard the door open and clack shut again. A desk onto which you could slam you head would be nice, you remembered thinking.

Instead of a desk, though, Dale put a gentle hand on your shoulder.

He sighed. “Alright, troublemaker. Walk with me? We don’t have to talk, let’s enjoy the sunset awhile.”

Not two steps later, and he apologized for his timing in using the nickname that one month ago he’d christened you with. “And Y/N? What Shane did isn’t your fault.”

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

Him

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

Today marks one week of being stuck in this bed. Day 7.

He’d failed, that’s it. A weak-ass pussy dipshit who’d failed, and was still stuck in a damned bed after a full week.

Tomorrow, Patricia said he’d be cleared to move out. Not that it mattered much, he still couldn’t do enough to be useful. Not that he wouldn’t; he couldn’t. He’d still be on bed rest.

But hey, at least he’d be able to walk to the woods to find a place to squat and shit by himself now, right? Not even too sarcastic, it would be a step up from feeling like a total invalid.

Carol and Lori were doing a special dinner and cleaning up for the family here to try and thank them for everything. Daryl would just…lay in his bed, he figured. Except, all three of those clucking hens that he wished would stop preening him, Patricia, Carol, and Y/N, kept offering to help him eat with everyone else like they was all some big, happy, family.

This time, it wasn’t that he couldn’t; he wouldn’t. He didn’t want to face them all, not yet, it was too much. He could only take a certain level of shame, and his plate was already full.

The saving grace this past week that stopped him from drowning in his shame was his not seeing the whole kit and kaboodle of them in one sitting. Rick had told him a little over a week ago how it was no problem if Daryl left. Just Daryl, he’s pretty sure nobody else got that little talk.

He’d chosen to stay because of Sophia and Y/N. Sophia needed finding. Still does.

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

You

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

Carl is the kind of kid who’s double-digits, yet understands when his mother needs her baby again. Lori had snuggled with him on the bed, and both were sound asleep. Not even you knocking on the door or the door being opened/shut woke them.

Which must be why last night, Rick took the opportunity to bring up what Shane did, right there in the room.

It was a blessing that you didn’t end up having to do the hardest part, bringing it up, you suppose. Shane himself had done it for you. All you had to do was fill in the blanks.

“Said he lost control, acted a certain way,” Rick murmured. “What’d that look like?”

You didn’t want to describe it, it’d sound bad… “Shane didn’t say?”

“I’m interested in what you say.”

“Ah, you want to maintain ‘eyewitness sequeskra — eesh, that’s hard to pronounce. Se-quest-ra-tion?”

Rick did that raised brow squint thing he makes when he’s teasing, as if maybe he was about to call you ‘weirdo.’ But then, his expression faded back to serious and he spoke your name. “We both know he hasn’t been himself. What did that look like today?”

Casually, you told him about the way Shane had gotten intimidating. “You know how he’d talk when he needed to do ‘bad cop,’ it was, it was kinda like that.”

“Anything physical?”

Casually, you mentioned the jabs. “He was pokin’, like, with his pointer finger — and he’s strong, so.”

“Right there?” Rick asked, pointing to his sternum in mimic of how you’d gestured.

“Yeah.”

“Do you have a bruise?”

Your neck tightened.

Maggie had spotted it when you were berry picking. One had fallen down your shirt, so you’d pulled the fabric forward and down to retrieve it, and she (and you) saw the bruise forming. You stupid, stupid idiot.

It was fine, it wasn’t a big deal. Bruises happen.

Casually, you joked to Rick, “I get bruises from random shit all the time.”

He didn’t smile.

It actually lessened the shame, rather than adding more. You were grateful.

Continuing, he questioned, “He told me about that collarbone grab, and how he went like this?” And when he motioned with his hand, slowly pretending to clap it against the side of your head, you felt your cheeks heat.

“Once.” The insult he’d smacked you with at the same time hurt more, to be honest. Which…made it all click that what Shane did wasn’t as small a deal as you’d been thinking. Mouth shut, you licked your teeth and stared into space. “Did it to himself first, way more than once.”

Rick watched his wife and son sleeping on the bed and asked nothing more for a few minutes.

You picked at the string that stuck out of your arm wrap, feeling stupid, stupid, stupid, shameful, stupid. Per usual, then you missed your mom—and out of nowhere got swept by that flash flood of resentment toward Rick again.

Shane and you had left your mother alone to scope out the latest at the hospital, to figure out how to get Rick safely out without him decompensating. While you two were gone, what happened happened. Sometimes, you assign blame to Rick for it, as if comatose Rick was the reason your ma got killed. Sometimes, you assign her dying to Shane’s change in character, as if that made it better, gave it an excuse.

Grief gets sticky like that.

“Is that all, or is there any more?”

“He went like this,” you mumbled, and grabbed the neck of your shirt like Shane had. “That’s it, all the dirt. Happy?”

“Y/N.”

“…Sorry.”

“I know this wasn’t easy. Thank you,” he told you, putting his arm on your shoulder. You didn’t want it there, so you moved away. Rick was patient, not reacting a bit.

That was last night. This morning felt pretty normal when you woke up. Carol had shared your tent again. Shane was off in his, so you didn’t see him.

Coffee in hand, you were in in the middle of coaxing one of the pullets to waddle toward you by holding out dandelion leaves when Glenn came to see you. You’d figured he wanted to feed the baby chickens, too, or, even better, that there was good news about Maggie. (She likes him!, she told you herself the other day. She just isn’t telling, you know, Glenn himself just yet.)

“Y/N? How are you?”

“I’m warmed up good with my coffee, how about you? Sleep well?” You kept your smile in when you asked, “Talk to Maggie today?”

“Yeah, yeah, I slept fine, yeah, but, um—you’re like, okay, though?”

A flutter of dread. “Glenn, what’s up?”

“What did Shane do to you yesterday? I heard him—”

“—What did you hear, and from whom?” reverberated from the back of your throat as if it were a growl.

“Dude, chill. I’m trying to see if you’re okay.”

The way you tried to keep your voice calm ended up sounding snotty and insincere. Most likely because you were feeling very insincere. How many people saw or heard about what happened? Naked, you felt so naked and exposed! “Where. Did. You. Hear about it?”

“I heard your brother talking to Rick.”

The twist in your gut eased. “Okay, um, um — what did he, w-what, um, what did he, what did he say?” And how did you hear, do they know you heard?”

“I had the headphones in, but the battery died on your mp3 while I was going to the bathroom—”

“—Daryl has the mp3,” you thought aloud.

“He let T-Dog borrow it, who let me borrow it. I-I ate something that didn’t agree with me, so…”

Oh my ffing — “Did you sanitize it when you were done?”

“Dabbed it with hand sanitizer, yeah. Oh, also, Shane asked me to ask you if he could borrow it once it was charged again.” Glenn scratched his neck. “I told him it was on really low battery.”

You swallowed.“So he did see you?”

“He and Rick saw me with the earbuds on and I acted surprised to see them.Shane asked if he could borrow it, I told him it needed to be charged, um, hey, I can see it in your face that you’re worried, please don’t be! Shane believed me,” he assured you. “Trust me, he doesn’t know I heard him. I don’t lie, Y/N, you know that.”

“I do,” you admitted, nodding.

“Anyway, I was walking back from the woods and heard Shane and Rick talking. I figured it was about Sophia, but when I overheard something Shane said, I stopped and listened.” Glenn bent his head down and shuffled his feet. “He said that he messed up, like, snapped. Told Rick that he needed to talk to you and be on your side with whatever you told him. Y/N, he said that he,” your friend lowered to a whisper, “hurt you? Like literally ‘hurt’ you, like, did he hit you?”

You smiled to put him at ease, holding up your hands. “He poked me a little and clapped an ear, weren’t hardly no thing.” Y/N, you stupid, stupid, idiot.

It was probably good that he looked so disappointed and cautious, even if it didn’t feel good to see it in his eyes at the time. “Y/N, don’t…joke about this stuff,” he began. “Why would Shane would have gone to Rick in private if it wasn’t serious?”

“’Cause he’s a drama-king.” You made it sound almost like you were patronizing Glenn, the way you said it.

“No. No, this isn’t ‘no thing,’ you literally just confessed he did hit you — does Rick know about that, too? Shane mentioned something about a collarbone, grabbing your shirt, and shoving you, which is also not ‘no thing.’”

As he was speaking, you’d felt more and more defensive and naked and ashamed. You even had to beat down the urge you had to grab his shirt and shove him back, and prove it wasn’t a big deal!

Then, you considered how he’d take it. The look on his face, at a friend doing that to him. How you’d feel about yourself if you did that. How you’d feel if you saw somebody else do that to him or somebody else. A whole lot of rapid thoughts in the several moments where you figured out a way to respond.

The explanation you made was something you’d tried on everyone so far. “We’re siblings. Stuff like that is normal — did you never see your sisters go at it?”

“No, it’s not! And if it is, it shouldn’t be! Dude, if you saw me,” he countered, speaking louder than you’d heard him make since he cried that the bodies of those at the quarry camp weren’t going to be burned with the walkers. “Doing whatever Shane did with you to one of my younger sisters, what would you think of me? How would you react?”

Glenn’s strong emotional response wasn’t expected, so you stood there, dumb. And you knew exactly how you’d react if you saw him doing to his sisters what Shane did.

And yet, you’re still unsure if everyone else is overreacting because it sounded bad or because it actually was.

Either way, Glenn’s question raised your white flag for you. You surrendered, bowing you head in shame and covering your face with your free hand.

“Glenn, there are three other people who know. Four, if you count Shane.” With your injured arm still secured by the upper arm to your torso, you pointed at him. “Dale, Maggie, and Rick know. Which means already there are three others who know. Now, Glenn, don’t go spreadin’ this business any further, hear?”

You didn’t sound half as intimidating as the words may look, mostly you sounded defeated. Ashamed. “Talk to any one of them, talk to me, but do not breathe a word to, to anybody else or around anybody else.”

This is the part where you started to get a little weepy. “And Lori, she don’t need to know about this right now, she don’t need the stress, and not a word around my Carl, oh my gosh, not him.” This is the part where you got a little beg-gy. “Please. It, it ain’t a bad secret because those that need to know, know. Okay?”

The gavel was brought down when he said, “The way you’re scared of the others finding out makes it seem like a bad one.” He was right. Is right.

He then clasped his hands together. “Listen: I wasn’t about to tell anyone else, since Rick knows. Shane told him himself, dude, and I trust Rick. But, if it was a different case,” he went on, and shook his head as if he was telling you that all bets would be off. “Y/N, remember when Ed was around? How that felt? Dude, you literally threw yourself on him when you saw him hurt Carol.”

The comparison of your brother to Ed Peletier stung and wasn’t fair. And did Glenn forget what Shane did to Ed, to? “Glenn, that ain’t equivalent by any stretch.”

“Maybe not,” he accepted. “But just because it could be worse doesn’t make it not bad. Stuff like this starts small.”

“I know,” you whispered.

You raised the white flag higher, half with the plea that this would be over faster if you did. Lord above, you felt so small, stupid, and defenseless. “You’re right,” you ceded, your gaze reaching no higher than Glenn’s belly. “You’re right. And like you said, it’s, it’s b-bein’ handled, Rick’s got it.” Ugh, stress stutter. “And Shane did a much better job than me when he saw what Ed did, don’t leave out that part.”

“He did. That almost worries me more. Just — if anything like this happens again, or if it starts to feel the same, like — ” He raised his hands. “You’re my best friend. That means I’m on your team. Okay? Even if you end up hating me for it.” He then started to leave, give you some space. “We’re on the same search team today, too. Meet by the mailbox by 9:00, it’s in like 40 minutes.”

“Hey, wait,” you called, not wanting to look him in the eye yet but doing it anyway. And you forced the words out because they were true. “Th-thank you.”

He breathed out heavily and made an awkward (but real) smile.“I love you, dude.”

“I love you, too, man. You’re my best friend.”

The uncomfortable, clumsy encounter with Glenn left you feeling more ashamed than you already were. With Daryl, that day where you’d felt as if your very soul had been stripped bare, the vulnerability hadn’t felt shameful afterward. What you’d felt was so close, unbearably close, it was strange.

But yesterday evening and this morning, the vulnerability sucked, dude. And you’d been stuck in a cycle of shame, anger, and feeling stupid, but without those feelings going away once the truth let out.

The good thing was, the target of your anger began to change during the conversation with Glenn. You weren’t thinking stupid, stupid idiot about yourself anymore, no, it became directed at Shane. The one whose blowing up made this mess. Your view of the mess also became clearer. What happened wasn’t just one sibling bullying a little on the other and it getting out-of-hand it was…it wasn’t something to brush aside, you’ll say that. And you’re scared, you’ll say that, too.

But what you were supposed to do with all of it, that still wasn’t clear.

Still isn’t. Because sooner than later, Shane will know about the baby. Sooner rather than later, the situation with Sophia will end. Sooner rather than later, that little power struggle you’re seeing between him and Rick will come to a head.

Nope. You have no idea what to do and all you feel is shame about it.

Speaking of, Daryl’s been feeling ashamed, too, it’s kinda obvious when you look and talk to the guy. He thinks that because he’s bedbound, he’s useless. Might as well pop in before you go on the search this morning, you’ve got like 15 minutes until then.

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

Him

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

“Last day in this fine establishment, enjoy it while you can,” Y/N joked.

Yeah, so, he wasn’t in a joking mood and didn’t get why Y/N would be, either. An entire week in this ‘establishment’ was damned shameful. All because he stole (worse, Y/N had told him more than once not to do it) borrowed a horse that got spooked. A dumbass slip and fall. Twice.

If Sophia wasn’t found, it was on his hands.

“Did Carol convince you to come to dinner, yet? Or are you still feelin’ too poorly?”

“Just stop.” He wanted to be left alone, was that so fucking complicated?

And he wanted out of this fucking bed, out of this room, out of this house, off this shit farm, and away from this whole gaggle of dumb fucks.

He wanted Merle back. He wanted Uncle Jesse back.

…He just wanted Sophia back. He'd even prayed about it.

“Sorry, little man, not now. Yeah, nah, he needs some privacy and quiet,” Daryl then heard from out in the hallway.

The door was already closed. He didn’t even hear it shut.

“No, his head is still okay, Carl, his cognition is prolly better than the two of us put together. The man’s healin’ well, thanks be to God,” Y/N cheerfully chirped like a songbird. "Wanna visit the baby chicks again?"

More shame slithered on over, hissing at him for how he’d been a dick to Y/N, of all people.

Daryl tried to rub his chest to get rid of the tugging feeling in Y/N’s direction while trying to shut up the voice in his head that was screaming for a goddamn cigarette so he could smoke and dig the lit end into his skin.

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

You

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

So, that was a bust. Daryl kinda snapped at you. It sucked. Felt really awful, not gonna lie. First your brother, now the mangy hick.

Come to think of it, it's actually more on brand for Daryl to have done that, given you literally just referred to him as ‘mangy hick.’

Ugh, you wanna cry again. You wanna run back to Dale the way a little kid runs to their dad. Maybe this time you'd also run into a desk to slam your head against on the way?

Later would have to suffice for finding that desk, however, because now, there’s work to do.

“Aight, let’s roll. We’re headin’ south, looking around a small neighborhood. Tomorrow, Shane and Andrea will be hitting what we don’t cover,” T-Dog announces. “Ready to head out, y’all?”

“Head on back to your ma, okay?” you tell Carl, pecking a kiss on his head and patting your finger along the chick he's still carrying. Carl had walked you to the mailbox, it's his third and probably last ‘big trip’ of the day. He’s wearing Shane’s police baseball hat. “See you later, punk, I love you."

“Yeah, man, all set. Bye, Carl.” Glenn stands up from his crouched position by the mailbox where he was waiting.

You adjust the first aid kit in your backpack, then ease it on and snap the chest clip in place. “Ready, Teddy.”

T-Dog rubs his hands together. “Then let’s roll. See if we can’t bring Sophia back for this big dinner her mama’s got planned tonight.”

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

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