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︎caitlin
caitlin | she/her | unmotivated writer
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A kissed cowboah
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#i’d like to imagine they got to see and hold each other again#this brought me a painful amount of comfort
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terrified that this tag might turn into kaitlyn dever’s abby when season two comes out :(
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crows
summary, crows are known to gift small trinkets they find on their travels to those who have been kind to them, much like daryl always keeping an eye out for things he thinks you’ll like. (1.6k)
dear reader, happy birthday normi !!! this is based off that moment in season 4 where daryl picks up that jasper stone and stares at it for the rest of the episode, like the thoughtful and sensitive cutie he is. this is quite long and wordy and sadly self indulgent lol.
before the world ended, the concept of owning things was different. some people wanted to own the earth, other people didn’t want anyone to own anything at all. we owned things by paying for them with money, to be insured that it rightfully belonged to us. that, with most other civil systems, died a sudden and complete death.
that’s changed, whether it’s easier or even more difficult now is up for debate. most things we would classify as our own are things we need, things we’ve taken from the relics of a family home or abandoned store. it was painful for a while, scavenging felt dirty and disrespectful, like we’re tearing apart any remnants of the people who died so that we don’t have to. but, now, it’s been over a year and it’s more rationalised, it’s something we need to do to survive.
some people thought the forgotten world had become a grave yard, but you saw it like a museum. even though most people had disappeared, their belongings immortalised them, a simple symbol of the life they once lived. knowing you might be the last person on this earth to take notice of the wedding photos and framed certificates made you feel a sort of comfort, acknowledging their existence maybe meant they could acknowledge yours and understand you’re only picking them apart to live on for the people that weren’t that lucky.
you’d accumulated a small collection of memories that didn’t belong to you, lockets and city magnets you knew where once treasured by someone else, too precious to be left abandoned. they rested in a beige shoe box in your cell. no one really knew about it, except for daryl.
not only was he the one you went on runs with, so he’d seen you picking up the small memorabilia; he also found himself in your cell quite frequently, nosing around. he’d never admit but he was always seeking out your comfort, when he couldn’t be with you he’d surround himself with you. reading your books, cleaning your guns, laying on your bed.
a while ago you came back from a quick job with carol to find him hunched over your makeshift dresser, carefully lifting thing out the box to look at them in the light. you didn’t try and explain it to him because you knew you didn’t have to, he might not have completely understood why you kept what he thought was junk but he didn’t mind to. you walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your cheek between his shoulders; he thinks it’s beautiful, how much love you have for everything.
“makes me sad.” he speaks low, only for you. holding what looks like it could’ve been an engagement ring you found in a nightstand next to a bed containing the corpse of a woman.
“doesn’t have to.” lifting your head to place your chin on his shoulder, getting a better look what he’s holding. he turns his head, lips almost touching your cheek, waiting for you to continue.
“you don’t have to see it as love that’s been lost, it’s proof of love after loss.” there’s a beat of silence before he places the ring back in the box and turns in your arms, holding your head to his chest.
“that’s nice.” you don’t see his face and he doesn’t say anything else, you don’t know what he’s feeling but you never have to with daryl. he’s not good with words but he lets you know in other ways, the things you need to know.
the next day he went on a run with some of the men to clear out a small cottage they’d came across deep in the trees. shuffling through cabinets and draws to find any supplies worth lugging back to prison, daryl found a small porcelain bunny, something a grandma would keep. only around four inches tall with minimal detail and a blue floral pattern on its back. after making sure no wandering eyes had found him, he secured it safely in the front pocket of his trousers to give to you when he got back. as always, he found you tentatively lingering near the gates for his arrival and he felt a spark go right through his heart. when he held your hand in his and placed the token of affection in your palm, there was no telling who was happier. you understood that him thinking about you even when he was supposed be working and remembering your little quirks was his way of showing love. he understood that he’d steal a thousand small bunnies to make you happy.
from that point on, he was never not looking for things to bring to you. he was particular about if the nick knacks where good enough sometimes, other times he’d bring you actual stones he thought where coolly shaped or extra smooth. every once in a while, when he was feeling particularly emotional or you’d been extra close, he’d be super sentimental. coming up with stories for them or attaching a specific symbolism. like today, he found a jasper stone.
as soon as the pretty green chip of rock caught his eye he reached to the ground to pick it up. whipping the dirt off with the pads of his fingers, being conscious of his strength he so often disregarded as to not damage it. he heard michonne huff out a sarcastic comment and gave a half-assed response but really he wasn't focused on any conversation. too busy thinking about what it meant, he never had time for the spiritual and cooky phases others went through but he knew people used believe these kind of rocks had meaning. he had no idea where to start with it but he was sure you probably did. it was a long day of work, he would so much rather be in his home with you, he must have pulled the rock out of his pocket thirty times to think about what you'd have to say about it when he showed you.
"hey." he greeted you simply after watching you from behind for a few seconds, folding clothes at the laundry station.
"hey. how was it?" you reply with a smile, trying not to reveal the anxiety that you felt for him every time he was away from you and outside the walls, failing by giving into your initial instinct to grabs his cheeks and inspect him for any injuries. he soothes your hearts aches with one kiss your palm and small smile.
"'m fine." he waits a pause to take you in before reaching into his pocket to pull out the rock. "look what i found." he watches your face light up immediately when you see it, what he's anticipated all day. "i think its jasper. definitely real though, found it in the dirt, near some water. there's probably more, i could always look." most of what he says sounds like a question, getting shy only because he wants you like his small gift. you look up from inspecting the stone to catch his eyes, leaning in for a short but rich kiss. "if you'd like."
"thank you." he nods awkwardly, head down to conceal his growing smile. "well, its definitely jasper." you hold the stone to his temple, he just stares into your eyes as you compare your thoughts. "matches your eyes."
shying away even more now, reaching up to rub his palm over his face, unable to accept the simple yet bold flattery. "don't do that." he grumbles out the statement in an effort to avoid the all too familiar distaste any praise causes him, years of abuse and neglect conditioning him to believe he doesn't deserve it. you see it written all over his face and it causes a crack through our heart, using the back of the hands holding the stone to brush his cheek, you wont stop loving him until he believes it.
"this's very thoughtful of you, ill find a good place for it." you wrap your arms around his neck, elbows on his shoulders, chest to his, undoubtedly a nosy pair of eyes watching from somewhere close by. you kiss his cheek like you've done a thousand times before, lips placing a protective layer over his precious skin and delicate soul. he wants to give into you so bad, lay his head over your heart and let you bury him in your arms forever, but he's just not there yet. he hopes that somehow you understand what he's telling you through all his efforts to find nice things for you. he doesn't know it, but you do.
he leans back from your embrace, just far enough to look into your eyes but still bask in your warmth. "do you know what it means?", almost embarrassed of his statement he speaks quietly.
"i remember my grandmother hanging a jasper stone she'd bought in the shape of a heart over my bedroom door when i was a teenager, 'said it would give me strength through changes and new beginnings, she had loads." its silent for a few seconds, the sounds of the prison fill in the blanks. carl kicking up a fuss about something, rick telling him off, carol bashing pots and pans around as she cleans, glen stomping on the gravel. its a welcome moment of peace, everyone can only hope lasts till tommorow.
"i like that." the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. his hands coming to rest on your back, rubbing up and down as he takes in his environment. "maybe we hang this over the door to the cell?" he looks at you expectantly, you smile back at him and nod your head. leading each other to the block holding hands, the little rock safely between them.
the world is surely lacking in its comforts, you're one of the lucky ones to have still be able to love. wherever he goes, whatever he sees, he'll remember that and carry it with him. his tiny trinkets he brings home to you carry an amount of affection no one can bother to measure, its beautiful and its yours.
#daryl dixon x reader#the walking dead fanfiction#daryl dixon fanfiction#norman reedus x reader#norman reedus fanfiction
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He told me the other day that he was proud of me. That I was a good man. I'm not. I know more now. About what he wanted for me. And I tried, but…
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istg every other day there’s some controversy or drama going on in this tag. what is wrong with y’all. be normal.
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HAPPY PRIDE MONTH, EVERYBODY !!!!!!!❤️💛💚💙💜🩷
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the girls are fightingggg !!!
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Pls stop making us act like children in these smut (just in general) stories it’s disturbing… thx xoxo 💋
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It fills me with such pride and joy to announce that my version of Speak Now will be out July 7 (just in time for July 9th, iykyk 😆) I first made Speak Now, completely self-written, between the ages of 18 and 20. The songs that came from this time in my life were marked by their brutal honesty, unfiltered diaristic confessions and wild wistfulness. I love this album because it tells a tale of growing up, flailing, flying and crashing… and living to speak about it. With six extra songs I’ve sprung loose from the vault, I absolutely cannot wait to celebrate Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) with you on July 7th. Pre-order now at http://taylor.lnk.to/SpeakNowTaylorsVersion 💜💜💜
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Taylor performing Anti-Hero (Acoustic Version) at the 1975 concert in London! (January 12th)
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she’s a mirrorball <3
TAYLOR SWIFT | The 1975 concert 1/12/2023 via Huxley
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