redneck day

My coworker was just telling me about this “evil musician from Disney, named Dinkle Dork or something.”

It turns out that he was talking about Lord Voldemort from the Harry Potter series. I’ve been laughing for 5 minutes holy fuck.


happy imagine bc we all need them right? 💝

There is a certain beauty to Daryl that not many people could see. It’s often difficult to look past the rough exterior, the hardness of his voice and the look in his eyes but these qualities only intrigued me.

They intrigued me to the point of completely falling in love with Daryl. Even at his most emotionally closed off moments back in Atlanta, I was utterly in love with the redneck.

This particular day was one of my favorites. Drops of rain fell from the sky, layering the streets of Alexandria with a thin sheet of water. The sky was a light gray with a few dark clouds here and there and leaves littered the pavement.

I was sprawled across the bed, my hand absentmindedly looking for Daryl’s body but it it only finds sheets and blankets. My eyes travel over to the door which is wide open. I’m not worried, he’s usually gone before I even wake up. I’ve definitely somewhat taken advantage of the luxuries Alexandria has offered us.

Eventually I get up and get ready for the day. I brush my hair and throw it up into a pony tail and slide an oversized flannel and ripped jeans on. These clothes are mainly my only outfit I have at my disposal.

When I walk downstairs I see Enid, who shares a house with Daryl and I, sitting at the table eating breakfast.

“Morning pretty girl.” I smile while looking through the refrigerator, my appetite seemingly non existent.

“Morning Y/N.” she giggles. I decide on skipping breakfast, something Daryl hates due to the fact that the lack of food eventually gets to me and makes me grumpy.

I sit down across from Enid and take notice to her picking at her nails, something she does when she’s nervous. I assume it’s about Carl and a smirk creeps onto my face.

“What?” Enid questions, her tone rushed and full of suspicion.

“You wanna talk about Carl?” I ask.

Her mouth parts almost in relief and she nods quickly, her long hair shaking with her movements. We end up having a pretty long conversation about her and Carl which consisted of her frequently checking her rusted watch and looking out the window behind me.

“Thank you Y/N.” she whispers while hugging me tightly.

I gasp slightly at her sincerity, and hug her tightly back, inhaling her natural scent which I’ve become so accustomed to.

“You’re welcome Enid.” I whisper back to her. “I’m gonna go look for Daryl, I’ll see you later alright?” Enid nods and I take one breath before exiting into the rain.

I misjudged the power of the rain because it’s no longer drizzling, it’s practically a torrential downpour. The rain drops land on me, soaking my hair and clothes. Right after I make it down the last step, someone grabs my arm, a shriek escaping my mouth. I turn to see none other than Daryl.

“What the hell are you doing?” I laugh.

He doesn’t say anything. It’s what he does that fills me with shock.

Daryl proceeds to get down on one knee and my lips part at the realization of what he is doing.

Daryl Dixon is proposing.

My eyes travel past him and I see Michonne hugging Rick and Maggie and Glenn are laughing and shaking their heads while walking down the street. I spot Abraham with his head held high and a look of proudness plastered on his face. And then, Enid comes into view. She’s leaning against the porch railing and she’s trying to contain her grin.

“Look Y/N,” Daryl begins in almost a shout due to the loud noise of the rain. “-I know I can be an ass and I’m hard to deal with and messed up but I love you so damn much and I should have done this a long time ago but I’m doin’ it now. So Y/N, will you marry me?”

The small, silver ring looks misplaced in his large, calloused hands but to me it’s perfect.

I shake my head, a grin prevalent on my face.

“Of course I will.”

Daryl stands up and I waste no time throwing myself into his chest, his long hair falling onto my face. “I love you so much, so fucking much.” he mutters into my ear.

“I love you too Dixon.”

I release from our hug and wipe away the tendrils of hair sticking to my face to see our family standing around and clapping and crying and smiling. They all must have known.

“Let’s go, I don’t want you catchin’ a cold.” he says while taking my hand in his and walking into our house. Everyone scurries off with wet hair and damp shoes but warm hearts.

We rush inside and I see Enid run up to her room and I turn around, placing my hands on Daryl’s chest and get on my tip toes to kiss him. The kiss is deep and full of hunger for I crave Daryl. I crave his erratic moods, his electric touch, his piercing eyes, his full and completely messy love.

“Who would have thought we’d be getting married in the midst of an actual apocalypse?” I ask against his lips.

He laughs, something that I don’t see Daryl doing often. Daryl and I walk upstairs, every second loving the way his hand feels in mine.

“I’ll be right in.” I tell Daryl while stopping in front of Enid’s room. He nods and I knock on the young girls door and I hear her say come in.

Enid jumps off her bed and runs up to me, enveloping me into a tight hug. “Congratulations.” she mutters against my clothes.

“Was that why you were so nervous this morning?” I smirk.

“Maybe! But I genuinely did need advice on Carl so thank you.” she smiles.

I can’t help the laugh that erupts from my throat and I leave Enid’s room and go into Daryl and I’s. I see him rummaging through our drawers and I notice the scars that litter his back.

It took him awhile to even tell me that his father beat him, even longer for him to show me the scars that hold moments and painful memories. Each one is a reminder to Daryl of his childhood and how dysfunctional it was.

Sure, there’s still hesitance when he strips off his shirt but I’ve made it clear that his scars are apart of him, therefore they’re beautiful.

“You told Enid?” I smirk while struggling to pull down my jeans which are drenched with rain water.

Daryl slips a plain black t shirt on and I can see his biceps, abs and every other visible muscle flex. “She was the second one I told.” he says while smiling, looking down at the bed in attempts to shield his happiness.

“Who was the first?” I grumble while jumping up and down in order to get these damn jeans off of my body.

“Rick.” Daryl tells me.

I’m not surprised. Merle may have been Daryl’s sibling due to the blood they share but Rick is Daryl’s brother because of the absolute love they have for each other.

Daryl climbs into our bed and watches me continue to undress. His eyes scan over every scar, bruise and bone of my body. He’s entranced by me and I, him. Our love is the type that isn’t written about or made into a film, it’s the type that’s real. It’s hurt and tears and pure, raw emotion. It’s as endless as time and I’ve never experienced something quite like it.

I finally manage to get my jeans off and Daryl throws me one of his newly acquired flannels he found on a run. My underwear are left to be marveled at by Daryl and the flannel is a perfect combination of oversized and comfy.

I collapse onto the bed, immediately pulled against Daryl’s chest. Our bodies mold together and my arm is outstretched in front of me, my eyes landing on the wedding band wrapped around my ring finger.

“I love it.” I mumble, letting my words evaporate into the air around us.

Daryl takes the hand in his and rubs his thumb over the band, it eventually traveling to my wrist and arm and then shoulder.

“I’m glad. You deserve it.” he says. I can feel his breath beating against my neck and eventually his lips land there. He plants little tiny kisses, often allowing his lips to linger a bit longer than usual. His lips are something that provide me warmth on my most darkest and coldest of days. They’ll ghost over my collarbone and eventually to my lips. They hold secrets that only Daryl and I know. They possess the ability to rid my mind of destructive thoughts.

I turn over and look at Daryl in his eyes. A faint smile plays at his lips, causing mine to mimic his. “I love you. I’m forever grateful we found each other.” I tell him.

“Dint know what I would'a down if I didn’t find ya.” he says while letting his eyes look down.

“Hey,” I start while placing my finger under his chin and lifting his head up. “You would have made it okay? But we did find each other and I couldn’t be more in love.”

awh, I hope you guys liked this fluffy daryl imagine💖

much love to you all. remember to drink lots of water, take any needed medication and rest💝☮️🤘🏾

Another staple of country music and redneck culture is the ultimate rejection of anything that isn’t simple. Aimlessly riding a tractor for hours and hours may seem like an abstract way to eliminate the nation’s supply of diesel fuel, but to a country music lyricist, it’s hitting the jackpot. If you’ve ever seen any movie that glorifies redneck existence, their days’ work begins with getting coffee from a machine that looks like it was invented before the electricity that powers it. Coffee shops, with their often artificial atmospheres and seemingly unnecessary complexity, are the antithesis to this.

Maybe it’s because hearing someone with a Southern accent pronounce “cappuccino” sounds like Hank Williams Jr. trying to explain all the things that he enjoys about Asia, but it could also be due to the way coffee shops present themselves. They, despite their miniscule efforts, have been established as the barometers of trendiness in society. Just as you’ll see Southern people presented on film as a constant loop of duct-tape mishap, the inside of every coffee shop is shown to be an insufferably cool place, where a stream of people in their mid-20s spout buzzwords with a lethal mix of snobbishness and irony.

6 Unshakable Beliefs You Develop Growing Up a Redneck