hi this drives me crazy
- canon is what happens in the text. e.g. merlin tries to poison morgana
- a headcanon is a fact that you have personally made up as an elaboration of canon. it is your invention. e.g. i think morgana and gwen had a teenage lesbian situationship before the events of canon. or, i think modern morgana would love evanesence.
- an interpretation is how one reads the existing text. it is not an invented fact nor is it a headcanon, it is a reading. e.g. i think merlin tries to poison morgana out of misplaced self-hatred. or, i think that one line was delivered with suppressed malice and shows a nuanced relationship.
- fanon is the general fandom’s accepted headcanons and interpretations that elaborate or recontextualize canon. e.g. merlin is a badass waif and morgana is a bitch.
- these are all different words with different meanings.
hi this drives me crazy
- canon is what happens in the text. e.g. merlin tries to poison morgana
- a headcanon is a fact that you have personally made up as an elaboration of canon. it is your invention. e.g. i think morgana and gwen had a teenage lesbian situationship before the events of canon. or, i think modern morgana would love evanesence.
- an interpretation is how one reads the existing text. it is not an invented fact nor is it a headcanon, it is a reading. e.g. i think merlin tries to poison morgana out of misplaced self-hatred. or, i think that one line was delivered with suppressed malice and shows a nuanced relationship.
- fanon is the general fandom’s accepted headcanons and interpretations that elaborate or recontextualize canon. e.g. merlin is a badass waif and morgana is a bitch.
- these are all different words with different meanings.
Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
CW: Alexandria era, pretty sweet fluff
all my work is fictional, purely entertainment related and belongs to me.
Just thinking about Daryl Dixon, who loves how normal you are.
His whole life has been filled with disappointment accompanied by alcoholism, up until the apocalypse. Then it became blood shed and constant grief. The unshakable feeling that this violent reality will undoubtedly, catch up to him and rip away what little he has left. But with you, the impending doom feels delayed.
He strides into your cozy little home, boots kicked off the second he does, because he knows it drives you crazy when dirt tracks. His leather jacket feels particularly heavy on nights like this. Runs that last days and attempting to get along with the others takes quite the toll on him.
“you ‘ere?” he asks aloud, more as a reflex than an actual question. He knows you’re home—it’s late night, the downpour of rain and warm breeze imminent outside. Where else would you be?
His senses become alert of the warm glow that lights up your place mixed with the scent of cinnamon. You’re probably baking again, a hobby taken up in your newfound free time—probably a apple pie from the scent. It smells as though you’re living in the wick of a candle. He notices how nice and clean you’ve kept the safe haven Alexandria has offered.
This is the only thing that gets him through it, through all the bloodshed and heartache of being a survivor. You are home, and home is worth returning to.
So when you emerge from the kitchen, hands covered in flour, with that sweet smile you never let wither despite all the hardships you’ve faced. Daryl thinks to himself- that he could be selfish and get used to normal.
AN: i wanted pie so i made you bake me a pie.
oh for fuck’s sake!
oh fuck you're so right @oracleofsecrets