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THE WALKING DEAD (2010 - 2022) Season 2 (deleted scene)

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TWD Caryl - A Tree Fell in the Forest

I just finished watching TWD and searching a bunch tonne of stuff on this here Tumblr which I'm brand new to, and I have thoughts.

I am strangely drawn to imperfection, its beauty, and TWD sits in this place, hovering near almost faultlessness (characters), to being nearly unwatchable (where did the characters go), sometimes within the same episode. It's utterly fascinating! I am hooked! A little late, yes, but isn't that the story of my life.

I honestly have not felt this way about characters since the late 90's, when my 17 year old Willoz shipping heart waited desolately for Oz to return, and ... we all know how that turned out. Ah, shipping. I literally had not shipped a single ship since that day. Until I watched The Same Boat. TWD has some pretty special characters. Though I love Bojack and Ozark and Travis Fimmel's Ragnar, I did not feel compelled to examine the inner workings of those beautiful humans/humanoids beyond the show.

There I was, happily not shipping a ship, apart from my own relationship with my own beloved, which I ship ecstatically every day. (This is the kind of ramble I can indulge in when I think readership will be non-existent). Got another ship in!

Anyway, my point is that a Caryl romance is clearly canon, even though the relationship isn't (yet?).

I didn't actually fall in love with Carol until she listened to my urgent pleas to take care of the Wolves at the start of season 6. I should point out that I have ADHD so I didn't always have the dopamine? Emotional regulation? Focus? To listen to all of your speeches, Rick, or to watch entire episodes devoted to new characters, Tara, Magna, Alpha. So, apparently, I missed entire stuff.

Even after "C'mere", I just thought Carol and Daryl had this extremely unique soulmate bond, like that of Ragnar and Athelstan in Vikings. It is an extremely rare and unique portrayal of a transcendental devotion that cannot be likened to any other kind of relationship, because there are no other relationships like it. The bind encompasses every aspect of love and support needed to utterly fulfull and complete someone.

At this point I had stumbled onto Tumblr because I realised I needed pro-Carol recaps from Carylers, as they seemed to best understand and grasp this very special character. I went back and rewatched from the beginning and I was shocked. I rewatched (and noticed for the first time) the flirting, the hesitation, the banter, the unspoken LOOKS, oh so many. Drew the links from Consumed ("I kinda like it." "Stop.") Watched interviews, waded through the mass of gaslighting that abounds, which seems to wrap itself around every subtle, telling moment.

Why? Because it's fascinating. A mystery. Pretending something that happened, did not? A tree fell in the forest and some people did not hear it. Well I didn't hear it either! But I went back and found the tree. That tree is on the damn ground.

Carol and Daryl are so in love with each other it hurts. Their romance exists. Therefore, I'm gonna ship it.

TGS

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I love her hair in the finale sm

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That woman is a menace

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Carol and Daryl shipper mayhaps?

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What makes Poor Things so ultimately triumphant for me is the way that Bella Baxter is, despite it all, her own creation. She came into the world in an experiment that violated the autonomy of both Victoria before her and Bella herself, but she steps beyond the parameters of the experiment and into the world, to learn from it. The intentions of men may be to possess her or use her or take joy in despoiling her vulnerability, but their intentions do not determine her experiences. She decides. She explores. She looks at a world full of sorrow that could render her helpless and chooses instead to do what she can about it and then sleep easy at night. She listens to the call of her curiosity before all else, her happiness second, her compassion third. The family that she makes for herself in the end is unconventional, but it's ultimately hers and allows her to flourish as a doctor with an experimental nature and a heart of patinaed silver.

And I don't think it could be that particular kind of triumphant if the movie wasn't so fucked up.

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That woman is a menace

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"Permission to Go After What I Love"

I think for us, it’s always been important that the women be complex, so not only do they kick ass, but they have full emotional lives. 

They can make mistakes. 

They can be awesome. 

They can be smart. 

They can have moments of weakness. 

Having fully formed people is what allows you to look at characters as humans and not just this construct of what you want them to be.  I do think that there’s this kind of toxic perfectionism that can come with female characters.  I don’t want to lean into that, and it’s not always popular when we have the women on our show make mistakes.  But I would tell that kind of story for a male protagonist.  That’s how they get to have a better story.  They’ve got to struggle.

 So, if you’re going to have female characters who are heroic, they also have to struggle against themselves, and against external forces. 

Of course, we don’t always know our own gaps in understanding, but we’re always trying to evolve the conversation and be truer to who we think these characters might be if they were living, breathing human beings.

Angela Kang, "Permission to Go After What I Love".

Conversations with Women Showrunners - Marygrace O'Shea.

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My TWD supply drop came today. 🥹

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For @tigereyes45!! I hope you like it! Happy holidays!! from: @madwomanlexie

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Caryl scenes

Just realised the scene with Carol and Daryl at the start of season 9 & the conversation with Carol and Daryl in 'Bonds' is so similar, they are both talking about love. In season 9 she is telling Daryl that part of her wanted to say yes to the proposal straight away and he asks 'Why didn't you'. This is oddly similar to the conversation in 'Bonds' where Carol is asking if Connie is fine too and he says that it isn't like that, 'Not at all' and then LOOKS AT HER LIPS AND EYES she asks him 'Why not'.

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Summary: On a supply run, Daryl gets himself stuck. Carol's there to the rescue. Pairing: Caryl TW: Briefest mention of Daryl's scarred back, reference to previous canon character death, and spoilers for season 4-5

Stuck

The streets of Atlanta certainly weren’t what they’d been before. This far into the apocalypse, and with the walkers migrating out of the city, there were only small bundles of the dead mulling about the roads. Now, Carol hadn’t seen what it was like right after the outbreak. After all, she’d never gone on any runs but instead stayed at the quarry camp to do the laundry and cooking as Shane –a name she had not thought of in a long time– had informed.

Of course, she’d heard the stories from Glenn about how they’d barely gotten out of there. Therefore she was grateful for the decrease in rotting corpses populating the dead city.

Her and Daryl had been sent out to gather supplies for the group. The small houses and neighborhoods they’d run across had been raided already, leaving them with no other option than to try their luck here.

Better yet, Carol knew her way around this area of Atlanta. They’d been around this area once before – before Beth’s death – and so they waded easily between towering buildings and around the huddles of moaning walkers, keeping low amidst the rusted vehicles and blackened debris.

The goal was to make it into the building that Carol knew stored donated goods for the families who needed them. She’d been there a few times herself from Before.

With the city previously overrun and dense with the dead, there was plenty of buildings to be scavenged. They were skimming along the alleyway and Carol patted Daryl’s bicep. He turned around to peer at her from underneath his curtain of greasy bangs.

“We need to take that entrance over there,” she gestured to a doorway right on the side of the building across from them, “should be a straight shot from there.”

Daryl’s eyes tracked the area she had pointed to. “Alrigh’,” he gripped the strap of his crossbow. “C’mon,” he took one last glance over his shoulder at her before they both sprinted off towards the door, weaving between cars and staying out of sight from the walkers grumbling about.

Daryl yanked the door open, holding it open for her as they entered. The hallway was lit by the broken windows reaching toward the ceiling and Carol could practically taste the dust on her tongue. Daryl locked the door behind them with a soft click.

They marched on through the corridor, shoes crunching through the broken glass and dust. Carol held her right hand against the knife holster attached to her belt in case they ran into unwanted company. She glanced over her shoulder and Daryl already had his knife out, always prepared.

At the end of the hallway, there stood two double doors. Carol grasped the handle, metal chilly against her palm. She strained to pull it open, the metal hinges creaking under the pressure.

“Mh, move o’er,” Daryl's larger hand brushed hers aside and he planted his feet before throwing his weight into thrusting the door open. One yank, two yank, three yank, and it popped open, a chain rattling loud from the other side. Carol peered over his shoulder and saw a metal chain holding the door handles together on the other side, only allowing the doors to open about a third of the way. The hunter grumbled, fingers tapping idly against the wood in an agitated rhythm.

The space was probably hardly enough room for her smaller frame to fit through. Annoyance pricked in the back of her head, crawling towards her temples. She spun around, eyes scanning the floor for anything that could potentially cut the chain or break through the wooden door. Nothing.

Carol sighed, fists clenching beside her. They needed that food, and urgently. She turned back toward Daryl, “I can fit through there. You wait here and I’ll get the stuff and get out,” she proposed. Immediately, his nose twitched and she watched him bite his cheek.

“Naw, y’ain’t goin’ on yer own,” he squinted at her with tired eyes, “we go’n together.”

She shot him an incredulous look. “Daryl, you are not fitting through there,” she pointed to the width between the doors. His shoulders were most definitely broader than that. His fingers tapped against the wood, faster now.

She watched his jaw bob back and forth, his eyes flicking between her and the doors before he let out a huff. She thought maybe he’d given in just when he sat back on his haunches to shove his crossbow through first, proving her very wrong. It was almost humorous watching her hunk of a friend get on his knees and stick his head through the crack. The chains rattled when the hunter slid one arm through at a time. He pivoted onto his side, pushing himself through, only getting halfway through before he halted.

Carol crossed her arms over her chest as she watched his legs kick out, trying desperately to gain enough leverage. It proved useless when his boots slid through the dust covering the slick ground below them. He went still for another moment before she heard a comical ‘humph’ from the other side.

“Having trouble?”

“Fuck off,” came the muffled mumble beyond the doors. Carol snorted, edging closer to Daryl, watching his pants stir the dirt covering the tile. She leaned over to look down at him above the chain. He scowled up at her, “Stop mock’n me, woman.”

Carol couldn't help the smile that crept its way onto her face. “I’m not mocking you,” she insisted. He didn’t look convinced, bottom lip caught in his teeth and chewing away at the already bloodied skin. Carol’s eyes skimmed where he was stuck, the doors jamming into his back and into his belly. She grimaced, that didn’t look comfortable. “Can you turn onto your stomach? See if you can wedge your way through?”

He grumbled but slowly turned his body over until he was on his hands and knees again. It didn’t look any more comfortable than when he’d been on his side. She observed as he pushed his arms against the doors and attempted shoving his way through again. This time she couldn’t hold in her chuckle of endearment. He looked ridiculous, legs sprawling for a grip on the tiles and rusty handkerchief swaying before her eyes.

“I think you need help,” she pressed. It was pretty obvious he needed help, but knowing him, he’d be a stubborn ass about it. And as she expected, he was.

“I got it,” he drawled. But Carol could only watch him struggle for so long.

She crouched down behind him, tapping a finger to his thigh to let him know she was there. “Hold still,” she reached forward and set her arms against his lower back, digging her nails into the cool leather of his angel vest. “Alright, on the count of three. One, two, three,” and they both thrusted forward, shoes digging into the floor. She felt them move forward just slightly, Daryl’s hips now flush against the floor. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. “Ok, ok… let’s keep trying that.”

The hunter groaned but reluctantly lifted up off the ground and back into position.

Carol regained her grip on his vest, and they tried again. Only this time, her hands slipped against his back, only proving to shove the vest and his undershirt up his spine. She quickly smoothed the material back out, knowing he’d much rather not have her stare at the scars lining his marred skin.

“Wha’s tha problem?” Daryl twisted his neck enough to look at her over his left shoulder. Carol hummed, “Not working as well as I’d thought.” She puffed out a breath of air and leaned back onto her legs, between his thighs. She had an idea, but he wasn’t going to like it. She pressed her arm up against his ass and he made a noise of confusion ahead. “Sorry but this is really the only way I think I can push you through.” She planted her shoes against the tile, trying to find leverage in the crooks and crannies. He tensed beneath her touch until she heard a very defeated sounding sigh.

“Jus’ fuckin’ hurry, already,” he shifted his legs in what she assumed was impatience. Daryl braced his arms again. “Ok, push,” and she propelled against him, straining her legs and arm. His legs kicked out on either side of her in his own attempts to free himself. They both groaned in union, right up until a firm rattle and she was thrust forward through the doorway along with him.

With a ‘oumph’, they were laying on the other side of those shitty doors. She lay against the back of his thighs, him propping himself up onto his elbows. Carol sat up and he moved to sit with his legs criss-crossed underneath him. There was a moment of silence, of his cheeks turning a muted red, before she burst out into small giggles. Her heart squeezed when he let out a small laugh of his own. Laughing didn’t come easy these days and the warmth in her chest was a rare thing.

“Think I’ve learned mah less’n fer today,” he mused. Carol nodded, “I’d sure hope so.”

She raised herself to her feet, Daryl following suit. She decided their whole debacle was worth it when she spotted the rows and rows of canned goods lining the walls. She turned toward him, meeting his eye underneath his snarled mane. “Cmon, let's get us some good food.”

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Home isn't four walls and a roof. Home is a person. TWD: DARYL DIXON 1.06 Coming Home

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otpsource's 3 year anniversary ❀ day 1: choice of otp

carol peletier & daryl dixon (the walking dead)

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TWD: Daryl Dixon - The Book of Carol announcement at NYCC 2023

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MELISSA MCBRIDE returns as CAROL TWD: DARYL DIXON 1.06 Coming Home

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one of my absolute favorite underrated caryl quotes is in 10x9, when they're making their way out of the cave, and Carol is starting to panic because of the small, tight space and her claustrophobia, and Daryl tells her to follow his light. it has been one of my favorite underrated caryl quotes since the second i first heard him say it. because yeah, on the surface level he's telling her to follow the light from his flashlight, trying to give her something to focus on to help her push through the panic enough to get out of the cave. but i also love to think of it in a much deeper way. because the whole arc with the Whisperers after Henry died, Carol is spiraling on a warpath, and she's in a pretty dark place (which. is totally understandable given everything she's been through). and that whole time, Daryl is trying so hard to be there for her, to remind her what they fight for, to guide her and pull her back from the edge before she gets herself or someone else killed. he's her light at the end of the tunnel in all of this. he's her happy ending. he's the light that can guide her out of all the darkness she was stuck in. so to me, when he said "Follow my light", it went far deeper than just the flashlight. he was asking her to follow him, to follow his light, just like he would follow hers if their situations had been reversed. to me, it was never just about the flashlight.

anyway. this got a bit longer than i originally thought it would. but that's just how i interpreted that quote when i first heard it, and how i continue to interpret it because, well, why wouldn't i?