gabbyy

Parenthood (Daryl Dixon imagine)

imagine: when it is revealed that your son was put in extreme danger, daryl’s paternal instincts kick in. (2,164 words)

an: someone requested a part 2 to fatherhood and i also really wanted to write it so here it is!!!! (PART ONE HERE) hope u enjoy daddy!daryl and angry!daryl all in one ;))) - gabby

Originally posted by reedusgif

I’m sure the last thing Daryl expected when he arrived at Alexandria Safe Zone was to be awkwardly reunited with an ex-girlfriend and his nine-year-old biological son. At first I thought he’d run away again, the same way he did all those years ago, but I was surprised to find that in actuality, he was more than willing and almost excited to take on his fatherly role.

He’d never verbally admitted it to me, but he really wanted to be a good dad. This was evident in the way he beat himself up over every small mistake he made, like when Nathan broke his bike and he raised his voice at him. He’d only ever spoken to Nathan in soft tones since then, terrified of making his son cry again.

Every parent makes mistakes, though, and for the most part, Daryl was an amazing father to Nathan. Occasionally I’d catch him giving Nathan piggyback rides around Alexandria early in the morning, my son’s gleeful squeals ringing out and reaching my open bedroom window from where I watched, still dressed in pyjamas past 9:00 AM for the first time in nine years. Then, if I was lucky, I’d catch sight of them playing with action figures as they ate breakfast, Daryl trying to hide his crimson face as he poured a bowl of cereal for me, mortified that I’d caught him putting on funny little voices for each character.

It had taken multiple nights of accidentally falling asleep together on my couch to realise that Daryl may as well move in with us. And similarly, it had taken multiple nights of accidentally falling asleep together in my bed to realise that Daryl didn’t need to be sleeping on the couch. Nathan accepted Daryl’s new presence in our daily routine as though it had always been the norm, even to the extent where he wouldn’t brush his teeth unless Daryl brushed his alongside him. They’d both stand in front of the mirror, baring their teeth as much as they could, and I’d watch and shake my head in amusement. I’d wipe the toothpaste out of Daryl’s beard as he made his way out to meet Aaron, and couldn’t help but feel elated at how normal our relationship was. We weren’t just putting it on for Nathan, either; it was totally natural. 

Daryl went recruiting with Aaron and I had a daily two hour shift on watch now that Sasha had taught me to shoot. I enjoyed sitting alone, watching over the scenery that lay outside the gates; Jessie watched Nathan for the duration of my shift, allowing me a couple of hours of serenity. It was as though we were ordinary parents, and I loved it.


Nathan had been acting strange since I picked him up from Jessie’s. Usually the two of us would kick a soccer ball around Alexandria or play a board game, but all Nathan wanted to do was take a nap. So, I read a book in silence before getting started on preparing dinner, something Nathan and I did together while we waited for Daryl to get home. The absence of Nathan meant that I couldn’t shake the idea of Daryl never returning; the thought always prodded the back of my mind but today it was more intrusive than ever. I knew Daryl loved recruiting and it was the perfect job for him, but I couldn’t help wishing he could remain safe inside the walls every day. That way he would always be there and his introduction into our lives wouldn’t be a waste. Of course I hadn’t admitted it to him yet, but each time I looked at Daryl I regressed back into that naive nineteen year old girl who had fallen in love with him all those years ago.

“Hey,” a familiar voice called out, accompanying the slamming of the front door. “Y’alright, Y/N? Where’s Nate?”

“I’m okay; he’s upstairs,” I replied, chewing on my lip as Daryl pulled me in for a limp hug. “Something’s up with him, but he won’t tell me.”

“I’ll ask him,” Daryl replied with a small yawn, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. I smiled anxiously and glanced at his slightly parted mouth for a second, somehow still tempted despite the dry blood ground into the cracks in his lips. The beeping of the oven distracted us, and Daryl made his way upstairs to find Nathan.


“You’re quiet tonight, lil’ man,” Daryl asked Nathan as we sat at the dinner table; he had been uninterestedly pushing his food around his plate for the past ten minutes, listening silently as Daryl and I discussed our days. “Got somethin’ you wanna talk ‘bout?”

The unnecessary scraping of silverware on Nathan’s full plate was the only response to Daryl’s question. I watched closely as Nathan reached underneath the sleeve of his shirt to scratch his arm, and even more closely as I noticed a small trickle of blood making its way towards his elbow.

“Nathan, why are you bleeding?” I asked, throwing down my cutlery and grabbing his hand in mine. Pushing his sleeve up, I revealed a small but deep cut on the soft skin of his upper arm, and a lump formed in my throat.

“Where’d ya get this, buddy?” Daryl asked, his tone of voice soft and encouraging, although there was an hint of alarm in the way his voice wavered. “You ain’t gotta keep secrets from us.”

“I went outside and cut it on a wire,” Nathan replied timidly, his gaze avoiding ours and focusing on his nervous hands which lay on his restless legs. Our confused expressions encouraged him to keep talking. “Outside of the gates.”

“You what?” I exclaimed, shuffling closer to the edge of my chair and closer towards a terrified Nathan. “Why would you do that, Nathan?”

“Ron and Mikey made me,” Nathan sobbed; upon switching my attention to Daryl briefly I noticed his face was reddening. “There was a walker and it… it almost got me, and they laughed at me.”

The legs of Daryl’s chair scraped loudly across the floor, the harsh noise enhancing the livid look on Daryl’s face as he stormed out of the door and towards the Andersons’ house.

“Daryl, wait!” I yelled, the whole of Alexandria surely hearing me as I dragged Nathan out of the house. “Daryl, stop!”

“What’s going on?” Aaron asked from his porch, but I ignored his question and chased Daryl down the road, a bewildered Nathan in tow.

Daryl’s furious knocking on Jessie and Pete’s door lured pretty much everyone out of their houses, and they joined me and Nathan in watching from the sidewalk. Denise came up beside me and rested her hand on my shoulder; her presence calming me only slightly. Tara ruffled Nate’s hair in an attempt to cheer him up, but I was too focused on Jessie finally opening her door to thank her.

“Daryl, what’s happening?” Jessie asked, nervously glancing around at the waiting crowd. 

“What’s happenin’?” Daryl exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air. “Your prick of a son has scared the shit outta Nate, that’s what.”

“Excuse me? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jessie replied, her voice barely audible from this distance. 

“Maybe you should ask this little shit here,” Daryl spat, gesturing bitterly towards Ron who had come to see what all the commotion was about. “Wanna tell your mom what you did to Nate today?”

“Daryl, calm down,” Jessie urged, taking a step closer to Daryl, who was quickly shuffling his weight between his feet as if he were stood on hot coals. 

“Nah, I ain’t gonna calm down,” Daryl hissed; I squeezed Nathan closer to me as I realised he was clinging onto my waist. “Nathan ain’t ever seen a walker before, an’ today your kid almost got him bit by one.”

Jessie went to open her mouth to reply, but Daryl took a step closer to her, his face threateningly close to hers. 

“I ain’t ever trustin’ you with my son again, you hear me?” 

Daryl practically flew down the porch steps and towards us, battling through the crowd of people asking him ‘what’s happened?’ and ‘are you alright?’. Once he reached us, he exhaled deeply before grabbing me by the back of my head, hastily kissing my forehead and scooping Nathan up into his arms.

“Come on buddy, let’s get outta here.”


Although I was facing away from Daryl, I was sure of the fact that he lay awake staring at the ceiling, the same way I was vacantly boring my eyes into the wall. Just as I was about to turn to face him, he threw the covers off and got up, sneaking quietly down the hallway towards Nathan’s room to check on him for the umpteenth time. I switched the light on and propped myself up, groggily rubbing at my eyes and waiting for Daryl to return. 

Once he did, he flopped lazily onto my chest, draping one arm across my torso. I ran my fingers comfortingly down his spine and rubbed his back; something I recalled as always calming him down during the numerous teenage fights with Merle. He grumbled incoherent words and I shushed him gently, smiling to myself at the small romantic gestures we’d been using more frequently.

“You’re an awesome dad, Daryl,” I whispered, and he exhaled in amusement, slowly turning to lay on his back and look up at me. “You are.”

“Awesome dads don’t go yellin’ at other people’s kids,” he scoffed, rubbing excessively at his face with the rough palms of his hands. 

“Awesome dads stick up for their kids, and that’s what you did,” I replied, daring to run a hand through his slick, long hair. “Even if you did get a little angry.”

“He coulda died, Y/N,” Daryl whispered, his voice a little choked. “They shoulda kept a closer eye on him.”

“I know; we’re lucky he’s safe now,” I breathed, letting my thumb roam over his cheek and towards his lips. “I’m so glad you’re a part of Nathan’s life.”

“Really? Seemed to do fine without me for nine years,” Daryl murmured, sitting up and yawning. 

“I spent so long hating your guts,” I laughed, letting my head roll back and rest against the headboard. “I always thought you’d be useless and I was better off without you. You’ve proved me wrong.”

Daryl abruptly sat up and clumsily pressed his lips against mine; the kiss was slow and passionate, distinct from the rushed, lustful kisses we’d shared so far. His hands settled on my hips and mine reached for his neck, a squeal of a laugh escaping my lips as he unexpectedly pulled me closer and onto his lap. 

Of course, one obstacle of parenthood is never being able to share a moment without being interrupted by your kid. A knock on our bedroom door disrupted the intimacy; I was virtually thrown from Daryl’s lap as he darted towards his side of the bed.

Nathan poked his head around the door and I gestured for him to come and sit between us. He clambered over Daryl, giggling when Daryl pretended to shove him back off. He lay between us and pulled the covers up over his small body.

“D’ya have a nightmare or somethin’ lil man?” Daryl asked; I admired how similar they looked. Glenn was right, Nathan really was a mini-Daryl. 

“Walkers are scary,” Nathan whispered, flinching as I dimmed the light.

“Tell me ‘bout it,” Daryl replied. “Almost as scary as your mom when she first wakes up in the mornin’.”

I rolled my eyes and couldn’t help but grin at Nathan and Daryl’s laughter. I grabbed a pillow and threw it at Daryl, which soon proved to be a bad move as I now had two immature boys ganging up on me. Once the pillow fight came to an end, Nathan boldly snuggled into Daryl’s chest, something very new for all of us. Daryl’s body went visibly rigid, and he shot me a panicked look, his hands awkwardly floating in the air. I widened my eyes and nodded, prompting Daryl to cuddle him back. 

Daryl hesitantly wrapped his strong arms around Nathan and he almost immediately relaxed, resting his chin on Nate’s head and closing his eyes. I lay on my side and admired the pair of them, the image before me being one that, nine years ago, I never thought I’d see. I was reluctant to turn off the light, never wanting to stop witnessing the moment. 

We were all slowly drifting into sleep when Nathan’s quiet voice broke the nighttime silence. 

“Daryl?” he asked, to which Daryl jumped back into full consciousness with a sleepy grunt. 

“Yeah?”

“Can I call you dad?” Nathan asked, and Daryl happily exhaled, a smirk visible on his dimly lit face as he protectively wrapped his arms tighter around his son.

“’Course you can, Nate.”

Ghost Towns (Luke)

Requested: Nah. This is another story from my old blog that i rewrote to make it better. so i hope you guys like this as much as you loved American Beauty. Also the update day will be friday instead of thursday. -Gabby

Y/n feels like she is invisible to everyone around her. But what happens when she finds out that she isn’t invisible to Luke?

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Runaway (Daryl Dixon imagine)

imagine: it is pre-apocalypse, but the world is just as bleak for teenage!Daryl. being his best friend, you support him through his decision to run away from home. based on ‘Runaway’ by Ed Sheeran. (2,012 words)

TW: domestic abuse, physical abuse, alcoholism, homelessness, running away from home. also some v v v light smut

lyrics from the song in bold. i really enjoyed writing pre-apocalypse daryl and i am definitely willing to write more pre-apocalypse twd imagines!! this song always makes me think of daryl’s home life, you should listen to it while reading. i hope you enjoy the imagine and daryl’s mismatching socks! - gabby

Originally posted by curious-tales-of-daryl-dixon

I squinted past the bright street light as my fingertips struggled to grab hold of the flaking paintwork of the window ledge I was reaching for. Slotting the toe of my boot into a familiar space in the wall created by a chipped brick, I managed to haul myself upwards and pull myself through the window and inside. I felt adrenaline pump through my veins as I smoothed the creases out of my clothes; I’d been sneaking through that window for years now, but each time felt increasingly thrilling. Turning the light on, I looked around the room; a few new sketches of motorbikes had been taped to the walls and I almost laughed at the lack of artistic skill behind them. Other than that though, the room was still as plain as ever.

My eyes fell upon the sorry sight of my best friend, his knees tucked up to his chest as he sat with his back against the peeling wallpaper of his bedroom wall. He obviously hadn’t heard me sneak in as he unashamedly let out a small sob, his head resting on the arms he’d folded over his trembling knees. 

“Daryl?” I whispered cautiously, taking a nervous step towards him. He glanced upwards in a moment of shock, his bloodshot eyes glistening with fresh tears. He rubbed furiously at his eyes and cheeks in an attempt to remove any evidence of a display of emotion, but we both knew it was too late; I had seen too much. “Is it your dad, Daryl?”

A forlorn nod from Daryl was all I needed to confirm my suspicions, but his older brother, who had evidently been listening into our conversation had more to say on the matter.

Known it for a long time haven’t we, little brother?” Merle’s voice was somewhat mocking as he entered the room, and I itched with annoyance at the way he was making such a serious matter sound like a joke. “Daddy wakes up to a drink at nine.

Daryl shifted uncomfortably, sitting with his legs crossed and picking at a hole in his sock with the word “Tuesday” printed on it. I’d bought Daryl days-of-the-week socks for Christmas last year as a way of mocking his disorganisation, but the idea had obviously missed the mark as it was definitely a Friday. Usually, I would have laughed at the fact that his other sock read “Sunday”.

Disappearin’ all night,” Merle went on in that same infuriating voice. “Wanna know where I found him last night, little brother?”

I don’t wanna know where he’s been lyin’,” Daryl replied through gritted teeth, refusing to pay attention to his brother. Merle simply chuckled before leaving the room, not without slamming the door behind him.

A silence filled the dusty air of Daryl’s room as I sat down next to him, letting him rest his head on my shoulder. I ran my fingers through his hair which seemed less and less blonde by the day, gently massaging his scalp with my nails in a way I knew would calm him down. 

“Wanna talk about it?” I asked tentatively, feeling him sigh and sniffle slightly. Of course, being Daryl, he didn’t give me a yes or no answer.

I know what I’m gonna do,” he remarked, standing up abruptly and opening the closet next to the window I’d just slipped through. “I’m gonna run away with you, Y/N.” He pulled out an old backpack he once used for school from underneath a mountain of clothes in his closet. 

“Daryl, what about school, college applications,” I stammered, thrown by the notion. I watched as disappointment flooded Daryl’s face, which was soon replaced by determination. “Why can’t you just speak to your dad first, let him know how you feel?”

There’s nothin’ to say, ‘cause he knows,” Daryl mumbled, trying to hide his dismay as he grabbed clothes from the pile in his closet, scrunching them up and tossing them into the bag. “I’ll just run away an’ be on my own.”

My heart twinged with despair as I watched Daryl gloomily shove clothes into his backpack, and I felt a responsibility to accompany him. My parents would kill me, I knew that, but I suddenly felt the urge to rush home and pack my own bag. 

I’m gonna pack clothes, and when it’s morning, we’ll go.” I said with a small grin, watching a smile creep onto Daryl’s face. I kissed his soft cheek as I made towards the door, enjoying the blush that coloured his face. As I dangled my legs over the window ledge, I called out to Daryl through the window before I jumped. “By the way, you’re supposed to pack shoes first, dumbass.”


It was six a.m. and I was waiting for Daryl outside his house. I’d scrawled a note for my parents and left it in the kitchen, explaining why I was gone and that I didn’t think it would be long before I would be back home. I watched as the sky went from a dusky pink to a bright orange, and I took the time to admire and appreciate the beauty of it; part of me wished I woke up this early every morning, but the other part remembered my warm bed and shook off the notion completely. I yawned and checked my watch, which read 6:30 a.m. As he was already thirty minutes late, I decided to peek through the windows of his house to see where he was.

I peered through the window of Daryl’s kitchen and froze as I saw Daryl’s dad leaning against the kitchen counter, swirling a glass of whiskey in his hand. I almost threw up at the thought of drinking this early in the morning; I could barely stomach a bowl of cereal at this time, let alone a spirit drink. I watched tentatively as Daryl entered the kitchen, tugging anxiously on the straps of his backpack. Daryl’s dad looked his son up and down before laughing cruelly, cold as stone in the kitchen light.

How long you leavin’?” He asked before downing the remains of the drink in his hand. His voice was only just audible through the small opening in the window.

Well, dad,” Daryl mumbled, his gaze focused on the floor rather than his father. “Jus’ don’t expect me back this evenin’.” I ran back towards the wall in front of Daryl’s house as I he made his way towards the front door. I perched myself nonchalantly on the wall and tied my hair into a loose braid. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Daryl said as he approached me. “Was talkin’ to my dad.”

“Oh,” I acted surprised and hoped that I was doing a great job of pretending I hadn’t been earwigging on his conversation. “All okay?”

“As okay as it can be,” he breathed, pulling me up from the wall and onto my feet. 


In all honesty, I was bored. I’d assumed that running away would be exhilarating, but in reality we’d just been trekking through the woods for what felt like an age; Daryl wanted to show me where his go-to place when he needed to calm down. For some reason, he’d brought a crossbow with him, a present from Merle from a birthday years ago; I didn’t even know he had it, he said he’d never used it before up until now. I mocked him, claiming that there was no use for it and he might as well sell it and make us some money. 

“Shuddup, or I’ll put it to use,” he joked, pointing the weapon at my head and making me squirm. Eventually I convinced him to leave the weapon buried somewhere safe, I was worried that we’d get into more trouble if we were seen carrying a weapon around with us. I promised him we’d go back for it later.

We came to a clearing in the forest with a lake, I was surprised at how quiet and serene it was; I could get used to the absence of people. Daryl removed his boots and his (surprisingly matching) “Wednesday” socks to paddle in the shallow edges of the water. Something came over me, and I longed to add a bit of excitement into our journey, so I quickly stripped down to my underwear and ran frenziedly into the icy water, the cold biting at my skin. 

“What the hell, Y/N?!” Daryl exclaimed, a grin washing over his face. 

“Come and join me!” I yelled, before dunking my head underneath the water. “It’s pretty warm in here!”

“You’re such a liar,” he replied with a laugh, before beginning to unbutton his shirt. I looked away to make it less uncomfortable for him, and within minutes he was splashing me with water as he ran into the lake.

Once our immaturity had subsided, and we’d calmed down from splashing and spitting water at each other, somehow Daryl’s arms had ended up wrapped around my waist, and his lips were softly kissing my shoulders from behind. Shaky breaths escape from my between chattering teeth and left condensation in the cold air; I could not longer tell whether I was shivering from the cold or from Daryl’s touch as his hands roamed upwards and underneath my bra. 

“Daryl,” I turned to face him, ready to lean up to kiss him when my eyes were distracted by a deep cut across his shoulder. Before he could protest, I spun him around and gasped at the sight of his bare back covered in both old and newly formed scars and fresh welts, some of which still coated with dried blood. “Oh my god.”

Daryl pushed me away from him and swam towards the shore of the lake. I watched as he pulled his shirt back over his head, not caring whether it got wet or not. I made my way towards him whilst trying to cover myself up, my moment of confidence dwindling. 

“Why didn’t you tell me he hits you?” My voice was high pitched and unsteady.

I was raised to keep quiet,” was Daryl’s response, and with that he’d dressed himself and set off towards the road again, leaving me shivering in my underwear.


My watch read 01:46 a.m. but the train station clock read 01:49. After changing the time on my watch to match, I looked down at Daryl who was asleep on my lap, or so I thought.

“Why’re you still awake?” I whispered, my voice quietened by the wind rushing through the station and through our hair. I felt him quiver on my lap; our clothes were still damp from a combination of both the lake and the pouring rain we’d walked in. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” he replied, sitting up and rubbing at his tired eyes. “Kept dreamin’ that the world was gonna end, and realisin’ I wished that would happen.”

I laughed lightly and leant my head on the shoulder he was offering me. He ran his fingers through my hair in the same fashion I had done to him the night before, and I smiled to myself at his gentle touch. 

“If the world ends, maybe your stupid crossbow would become useful.” I joked, and we laughed weakly. Daryl’s expression clouded with embarrassment as I slipped my hand up his back and traced the injuries as lightly as I could. 

“It’s never gonna be alright, is it, Y/N?”

It could take a bit of time to heal this,” I sighed, nuzzling into his shoulder and enjoying the feeling of his fingers tangling in my frizzy hair. “But I’m always gonna be here for you.”

Both my watch and the train station clock read 02:23 by the time we’d snuggled into our sleeping bags and laid to rest on the cold floor of the station underpass. Of course, before that, we had plenty of time to share shy kisses; I fell asleep with a sense of completion as I accepted the fact that my best friend was now something much more.

Saturday, March 24, 1984. Shermer High School. Shermer, Illinois 60062

Dear Mr. Vernon: We accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was that we did wrong. What we did was wrong. But we think you’re crazy to make us write this essay telling you who we think we are. What do you care? You see us as you want to see us… in the simplest terms and the most convenient definitions. You see us as a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess, and a criminal. Correct? That’s how we saw each other at seven o'clock this morning. We were brainwashed.

—  Brain Johnson, The Breakfast Club
Taylor Swift's new album title "Wrong Direction"

Cover photo for album:

Taylor driving in the opposite direction on a one way street. It will be the “One Way” street but instead it reads “Wrong Direction”.

Track list:

1. He Called Me Louis

2. The Ship That Never Sailed

3. Swifties > Directioners

4. He Tried To Squeeze Into My Jeans

So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I’m still trying to figure out how that could be.
—  The Perks of Being a Wallflower, Stephen Chbosky