Sins of the Flesh Deleted Scene

Note: a very short “before” scene in the early days of Richonne’s marriage. For anyone who remembers this story, Andre and Carl’s nicknames are Peanut and Pickle. AKA Michonne’s pregnancy cravings for her boys❤️

10 years earlier…

“Pickles!” Michonne exclaimed with adorable excitement. Her eyes widened and she outstretched her arms to take in the large jar. “I love you.”

Rick chuckled. “Are you talking to me or the jar of pickles?”

“Both.” She smirked at him then kissed him softly. “Okay, you. Mostly. A little to the pickles.”

He put his arm around her as he steered them toward the large sectional sofa. They plopped down against the sofa’s cushy throw pillows and snuggled their bodies into an intertwined curl. He stroked her bare arm absentmindedly, reveling in the wonderful simplicity of moments like these.

They were married and fully settled at last. They were in their new home, relaxing on their couch. Michonne’s belly grew by the day. The road ahead was a brightly lit one, and he couldn’t wait to travel down it with Michonne by his side.

“How was work?” she murmured into his chest.

“It was rough. No new leads on the Lamson case. But now it’s better.”

“It is. Now that I have my pickles,” she teased.

He cocked a brow and glanced down at her, nestled into his side. “You ever gonna get sick of those?”

“It’s not me, it’s the baby. It’s Kevin’s fault.”

“Kevin? Since when did we agree on Kevin?” Rick asked.

“Since I had to spend 9 months of my life practically handicapped, waddling around knocked up with your baby inside me,” she replied.

“Oh, c’mon, desk work ain’t so bad.”

“Says the man who can still work the streets.”

“You’ll be back in no time,” said Rick, kissing her temple. “I might give you Kevin. Or you know what? How about we call it a day and name him Pickle?”

Her head craned backward into his arm beneath, a burst of laughter leaving her. She said, “shut up! You think you’re hilarious, don’t you?”

“What you don’t know is I’m serious. Pickle Grimes. I think it has a ring to it.”

“Alright. No Kevin. No Pickle. What about Carl?”

“That’s a maybe. I’ll have to think on it over some of those pickles,” Rick said, grinning.

She shook her head and giggled some more. “Nope, not happening! Those pickles are mine.”

“Michonne, baby, it’s the family size jar.”

“And? You bought them for me. If you wanted some you should’ve bought two.”

The couple dissolved into laughs as Rick pulled her closer against him to hold her belly. The humor faded for a comfortable silence sweeping over the living room. Slowly, eventually in time, the two faded off into a small catnap together.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Yours, Always: Pt. 7

Summary:  When a kind stranger comes to the reader’s aid out on the road, she finds herself drawn to him and desperate to learn more about this handsome man with kind eyes and a devilish smile.  But, when she discovers that he is the monster that is threatening her community, she pushes him out of her mind until a hastily scribbled letter finds its way to her door.  That simple note will take them both on a rollercoaster ride that neither one of them had bargained for.

Pairing:  Negan x Reader

Warnings:  Language

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Weeks passed, and Rick’s anger still clung to him like a tangible presence, isolating him as he strode around the compound with steely eyes and a grim determination.  Of course, his questions and threats had achieved nothing, though they had led an atmosphere of suspicion and mistrust to descend over the Safe Zone, quieting the usual friendly chatter and making your home feel small and suffocating.  You longed to get away, to escape for a while, but the sheriff’s focus was on protecting the community, only a select few permitted to go out in search of supplies, and you weren’t on that list.

Life seemed harder somehow than it had before, though day-to-day your routine had barely changed.  You worked hard at whatever task you were assigned, preferring those that were more physically strenuous, tiring your body to the point of exhaustion so that you could sleep at night.  Since you’d told Negan to stop writing to you, he had a tendency to creep into your thoughts as you lay in bed, waiting for sleep to take you.  You pictured him standing beside the beat-up old truck that he’d fixed up for you the first time you’d met, white t-shirt clinging to him in the heat, leather jacket slung over his shoulder as he gave you a devilish smile.  You pictured the anguish on his face as he picked you out from the crowd as he stood with Spencer bleeding at his feet, afraid that you would feel differently about him now you’d seen first-hand what he was capable of.  And you imagined him hunched over a desk - because he seemed like the kind of guy that would have a desk even at the end of the world – his brow creased in concentration as he inked his rambling scrawl over a sheet of paper, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.  Ending what you had with the head Savior hadn’t done anything to damp down the feelings that had swelled within you with every letter you received.  Instead, you missed him.

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“The only thing I can really say about those without giving any spoilers if that they are both these stories that have to be navigated. The essence of both of those characters is going to be felt not just through the remaining episodes of season nine but possibly for seasons to come in the future. I doubt the fall out of those characters will be glassed over in what remains of our seasons. I think both of those characters cast huge shadows and both those shows will exist in the shadows that they left behind. It’s not taking the easy path. I think it’s important to say that when we talk about The Walking Dead universe, it’s not just lip-sync to prove anyone can die, we mean anybody can go. No one is secure in this world and sometimes we have to remind the audience and remind ourselves of that, and to a lesser – or greater – extent, both those passings are brave and great examples of that.” - Lennie James

fanfiction.net
The Dead and the Dark Rider Chapter 15: Arguments and Revelations
Tensions come to a head with the occupants of the farm and Rick and Michonne discuss some tensions of their own...

Thank you for all of the messages! I wish I had time to write without pause, but for now, here’s chapter 15.

An excerpt:

Michonne, for her part, was not sure where to intervene. At first glance it seemed that the occupants of the new cabins were engaged in an all-out brawl, silhouetted by the low light of the evening.

Rick leapt in immediately, seizing a disheveled Daryl by the collar, nearly tossing him out of the path of Theodore. Morgan took a more pacifist approach and laid a hand on Theodore, calming him with gently murmured words. Nearby, Tyreese was holding Sasha back. Her hair had slipped from its coiled plait, frizzing about her head as she huffed and puffed like a wounded animal. More confusing than this was Beth, red-faced and blotchy, tears streaming as she threw what Michonne could only describe as a tantrum. Hershel was nearby, looking similarly appalled, though his glare was fixed not on Daryl and Theodore, but another couple. In the epicenter, Glenn and Maggie stood together, blushing furiously. They were both in various stages of undress. Maggie appeared to be wearing Glenn’s shirt and not much else, while Glenn, shivering, stood in hastily drawn up trousers. The noise was deafening, everyone shouting at once.

“What the hell is going on?” Rick raised his voice over the crowd, irritation coloring his words. The resulting silence was resounding.

Originally posted by i-am-pauline-bonaparte

Paul Rovia is an underrated LGBT+ character. 

I constantly see these posts with lists praising other lgbt+ characters (and im not hating, i love when they’re recognised) but for all the ones I see, I have never seen Paul on one. Not once. 

He is a complete badass, trained in martial arts and defies practically every stereotype there is, seriously, it’s almost like people forget that he’s gay. 

And honestly, it really fucking upsets me that he isn’t recognised more, his actor, Tom Payne, is also an amazing fucking ally to the community and openly talks about his character’s sexuality and how happy he is to play him. He’s even a Stonewall Inn Ambassador for god’s sake. 

Come on, give this amazing character more attention. 

Life at the end of the world Pt.25

Summary: Your life as a zombie apocalypse survivor. It starts with the Reader settling into the camp at the quarry, before s1 and then follows the show events and storyline, more or less, but with the Reader in it.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Slow burn, violence, language.

Author’s note:  I’ve been itching to write a fic like this for a long while and I write it for fun, I don’t claim to be a writer so if you find you dislike this fic, please be kind and just stop reading. English’s not my first language so maybe there’re some mistakes, I apologize in advance. For the same reason, I can’t write character’s accents and things like that. At any rate, I hope you enjoy it. There’d be several parts to this.

Masterlist


Next morning, you were waving goodbye to Michonne, Rick, and Carl close as they worked on the crops, while Daryl got ready to go hunting, when you heard some screams.

You looked around, startled, rushing behind Rick to find Lizzie and Mika running out of their cellblock, scared and screaming, yelling that there were walkers inside. Daryl, Tyreese, Glenn, and Carol soon joined you and you all ran into the cellblock.

What you saw in there paralyzed you with horror for a moment. Everyone was screaming and running wildly, trying to escape while several walkers attacked everyone, already munching on some bodies.

You sprung into action, shooting your gun at any walker you could, horrified when you recognized them as your own. Between your combined efforts, you all managed to get the situation under control, putting down all the walkers, but several people had died.

Daryl, Glenn, and Rick were forced to make sure those dead people wouldn’t come back as walkers, and you could see something die inside Rick as he was forced to do that again, after all the time he had spent as a farmer without killing anything.

You saw Daryl noticing it too, sharing a look with Rick and patting his shoulder, before making his way to you.

“You okay?” He ran his hands over your arms, his eyes roaming over you, checking you were okay.

“Physically? Yes.” You were far from okay emotionally, you didn’t understand how this could have happened, you hadn’t expected something like this inside your supposedly safe prison. “And you?”

Daryl just shrugged, pulling you close for a brief hug and you knew he was feeling like you if not worse. For someone so solitary, he had a connection with those people that you hadn’t yet achieved, and he knew and cared deeply for every one of them.

Together, you walked into the cell where Rick and the doctor were examining one of the corpses, trying to see how it had happened. He had no bites or wounds, nothing to explain how he had died.

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I can handle myself (Carl Grimes X Reader)

Originally posted by bnsplmn

*Gif credit goes to bnsplmn*

Request/Summary: Carl Grimes X Reader imagine where the reader gets hurt on a run right after she was bragging that she doesn’t need Carl to save her and she can handle herself and Carl takes advantage of the moment to carry her back and acts all cute while pointing out she was wrong and gets her back to Alexandria?? Thank you!! I LOVED your heated and Colors imagines!

(Thank you!!! Also, This is really cute. Also, I hope you like it) 

@louistwinslover

Words: 692

Pronouns: They/Them

Warnings: None

“I heard Daryl talking about a few stores a few miles south of here,” you told Carl, your boyfriend. “Your dad said that he doesn’t want to risk checking it out, but Daryl seemed confident that there was something in there. We should go check it out. I could take half and you could take the other half. We can take one of the trucks or something.” You explained.

Carl looked up from his book. “Y/N, I’d love to. We are not going to take half and half though. So we should go tomorrow when there’s more time.” He pointed out while going back to reading.

You narrowed your eyes. “Carl, I can handle myself, thank you. I don’t need your help. I can do it myself.” You replied standing up and walking to the door. “I’ll just go by myself.”

“Y/N wait,” Carl said sitting up quickly. “You can’t go alone.”

“Why? Do I need you to protect me or something? I can handle myself. If anything I have to protect you.” You said mockingly. Mainly to just annoy him.

“Never. I’ll go so you don’t have to be alone.” He muttered following you outside the house.

*Flash forward to 30 minutes later*

You and Carl walked through what used to be a convenience store. You picked up a box of band-aids that were there and a few other medical stuff. You stuffed some of the stuff into a backpack you had and continued looking. Just as you were about to walk around a shelf, you were greeted by a walker. You stumbled back startled and fell into one of the shelves that lined the store. You tried to catch yourself by grabbing onto the shelf in front of you, but the shelf ended up falling with you. Luckily enough you were able to grab a hold of your gun and shot the walker in the head.

You laid your head back on the self, as your leg erupted with a large amount of pain. You tried to push the shelf off of you. It wasn’t going to move any time soon. Not by yourself. Due to the gunshot, Carl ran into the store to see if you were alright.

“Holy shit.” He muttered running over to you.

“I’m fine.” You muttered.

“No, you’re not. Your leg is bleeding pretty badly.” He explained.

You bit back your tears. “It’s fine, Carl.” You replied trying to act like you were ok.

“Then why are you nearly crying?” He asked barely glancing up at you as he moved the shelf off of your body.

“I’m not crying.” You muttered. He didn’t say anything.

He bent down and slowly picked you up. He held you in his arms like you weighed nothing and carried you down the street to the truck.

“I can handle myself. I don’t need you.” He mockingly repeated your words. You rolled your eyes. “Imagine if you went by yourself? Who would have to come and save you?”

“I get it.” You muttered.

“I’m sure you do.”

“Shut your face.”

“Shut your face.” He mocked you again.

He sat you in the truck as he ran around to the other side. He pulled away from the little neighborhood and back to Alexandria. As you guys pulled up, the gates rolled open. Carl pulled in quickly as Rick ran up.

“Where the hell did you guys go?” He asked.

“To a little neighborhood a little ways away, but Y/N needs help,” Carl explained jumping out.

Rick ran over to you and opened the door. He noticed your leg right away. “Y/N, what happened?” He asked. “Someone go get Denise!”

Carl walked over to you and lifted you up into his arms and carried you over to where Denise was. She was walking out just as Carl carried you around the corner. Carl took you inside and laid you down on the bed as Denise cleaned your leg. It wasn’t broken, but she needed to add stitches. Carl mocked you for weeks after that incident, but he was still incredibly sweet to you and helped you heal.

Amping up the romance in this chapter of Deadbeat

Premise - Rey, a young teacher, notices that the new girls in her class are not being cared for as well as they could be. When she finds one of the girls on her doorstep claiming that their guardian needs help she can’t help but get involved.

 Chapter Excerpt:

There was a strange weight on Rey when she woke up, groggy and achy from the sofa she had slept on. She tried to move her right arm but it was trapped somehow. That was strange. Her alarm hadn’t gone which was good at least. She wasn’t late. She probably had a good fifteen extra minutes to sort out whatever was going on with her arm. She blinked her eyes open and closed them again.

That couldn’t be right.

Maybe she was still asleep. She opened her eyes again and.. No. She hadn’t been dreaming. The reason she couldn’t move her arm was the man sleeping against her, his large frame stopping her from moving her arm on that side.She reached her other arm up, stretching before poking Kylo in the ribs. He hissed and bolted upright, blinking as he grabbed his side. He looked around wildly for a minute before spotting Rey who had covered her mouth with her hands, realising what she had done.

‘Stab wound,’ Kylo reminded her, breathing through gritted teeth.

‘I am so sorry, oh - Kylo, shit, I forgot,’

‘’S fine,’ he said, rubbing his eyes with the hand that wasn’t clamped over his side, ‘It’ll pass. What time is it?’ he yawned, rolling his shoulder.

The room was still grey; not dark exactly, but not light either. She heard rain patter quietly against the windows obscured by drawn blinds but audible nonetheless. She looked at her phone screen, the bright light making her blink again. ‘Twenty past 5,’ she croaked. She tried to clear her throat but the rasp wouldn’t budge. She shook her head a little and stood. Kylo glared at her from the sofa.


Check out @thereylowritingden to find a huge range of great reylo fic!