and now we have zombies with shinee

Can I just say how beautiful The Walking Dead is? Not only it features great storylines, cliffhangers, action, zombies and stuff, but also GREAT characters.

It represents minorities. Right now we have three leaders: a straight white man and HE’S NOT A CLICHE, is a good, brave guy who respect his people and deserves the world, we have a POC (aka Ezekiel the super hot and smart and funny and loving and kind and caring King) and a woman, my Queen Maggie Greene-Rhee, who lost EVERYTHING and still shines and fights and smiles and helps everyone. A white man, a black man and a woman.
We have Rick and Michonne, an interracial couple who is the MAIN couple in the show and it is a beautiful and healthy relationship.

We have a lot of gay characters and it’s the bloody apocalypse. In a regular show we’re lucky if we get one or two characters and here they managed to give us FIVE queer character, Tara, Denise, Aaron, Eric and Jesus (and I’m pretty sure that Alisha is going to be with Tara somehow I HOPE).

There are a lot of POC characters, GREAT characters, not just guest stars: Sasha,Michonne, Rosita, Morgan, Ezekiel, Gabriel, Tyreese, Noah, Bob, T-Dog.

We have a LOT of interracial couples. I mean, we had Glenn and Maggie. Rosita and Abe. Abe and Sasha.

We have strong independent women, we have Maggie, CAROL (an abuser survivor who became a warrior and she’s precious and strong and brave and I love her), Sasha (I’m gonna miss her so much holy shit), Michonne, Rosita, Tara, Enid and the list could go on and on.

Even Daryl, who could be a total cliche, is actually a very good character and he has a good heart, he’s loyal and brave and sensitive.

It’s a bloody zombie!apocalypse show and it still manages to represent all kind of people, all the minorities and it features amazing and not stereotyped characters.
The Walking Dead is beautiful and is precious and I love it and I WANT SEASON 8 RN.


Even if it’s just a little spark, some light in this darkness. 
Even if all we have is that spark to linger to.
Even if it’s only you and me.
We can survive, because all we need is hope jagi. And that light reminds us that even stars need darkness to shine. 
Maybe one day the world will be better, safe. Maybe one day we’ll have a proper Christmas tree. But in the meantime, I hope you don’t mind this little dinner I managed to get. I hope next Christmas I can give you a warm home, but as for now, I’ll give you my arms. I love you jagi, Merry Christmas. 

Christmas/zombie apocalypse Chen Moodboard requested by JJ. I hope you like it! Xoxo, Admin A~

Catch a Tiger by the Toe

Requested by Anonymous: Can you do an imagine where Y/N and Daryl were engaged before the apocalypse but were separated. The reader joined the saviors but only for survival. At the line up the reader sees Daryl and is shocked. Instead of Negan picking someone, Negan gives the bat to the reader.

TW: Abuse

Catch a Tiger by the Toe

“OK, so the light pink or the salmon?” You ask, holding up the short ribbon samples side-by-side.

“Does it matter?” Daryl asks, not looking up from the video game he was playing.

You frown. “Yes, it matters. It’s our wedding. The least you can do is pretend to care.”

He pauses the game and looks at you. “I care, cupcake. I promise. I helped pick out the cake, remember?”

“That’s because you got to eat fifteen samples in the process.” You roll your eyes. “Now, which color?”

“They look the same.”

“Well, they’re not.”

“What are they for again?”

“The ribbons on the aisles of the pews.” You say, holding the samples up in a better light. “Which do you like better?”

“The one on the left.”

“So the light pink.”


“Thank you.” You kiss him on the cheek as he unpauses his game and goes back to killing zombies with a fireman’s axe. “Don’t forget, we have a meeting at 6 with the catering company.”

“Rise and shine, ladies!” A voice is calling, pulling you from the memory and putting you in a bad mood. The only time you get to see your fiancé anymore now is in your dreams, and when they’re interrupted, you get cranky.

Negan flipped a light switch in the huge bedroom where his wives stayed, and you sat up on your mattress. He rarely woke you all up in the morning, unless something big was going on, so this probably meant trouble.

“We’re going out today to put an end to this nonsense with this new group of people.” Negan began. “So, I want you all to be ready for when I return. I’m gonna be in a great mood.” He winked and your skin crawled. “Y/N.” He called your name and you looked up. “You’re coming with us.”

“Why?” You ask, and almost regret it. You don’t question Negan. He’s in charge.

“These pricks need to know that I’m the boss now. My bat’s bigger than theirs and my trophy is prettier.” He says, running a hand along your jaw. “So put this on and let’s go.” He tossed a thin, satin robe with a dark floral print at you and started to leave.

“I can’t wear just this all day!” You object. “I need real clothes, Negan.”

“You’ll wear what I say.” He says calmly. “End of discussion.” And he leaves the room again.

Fuming, you slip the robe on over the lingerie that Negan makes his wives wear 24/7, and you tie it tightly around the waist. Then, you practically stomp out of the room after him.


Later that evening, you were sitting in an RV, legs crossed and refusing to look at Negan. “What’s wrong, cupcake?” He asks.

“I have politely asked you not to call me that.” You say.

“Alright.” He tries again. “So what’s wrong.”

“I don’t like being so exposed.” You say. “Yes, I agreed to be your ‘wife’, but I didn’t agree to be put on display for everyone.”

He laughs. “You should be happy. You’re my favorite, cup—“ He stops himself. “You’re my favorite little wifey.” He corrects. You just cross your arms, and out of the corner of your eye, you can see the look on Negan’s face darken. “Shape up.” He says in a threatening voice. “If you don’t behave yourself tonight, I will punish you. Don’t think I won’t.”

You uncross your arms and try to wipe the pout on your face into a blank look. “OK.” You say.

You sit in silence for a time, listening to the Saviors outside as they move around and set up for whatever they’re planning. You regretted the decisions you’d made. You should’ve just stayed by yourself and kept trying to find Daryl after you were separated in Atlanta. You shouldn’t have joined that other group and traveled out of the state, and you shouldn’t have joined the Saviors. Maybe you should’ve let them kill you with the rest of your group, rather than allow them to take you hostage as a sex slave. Negan likes to pretend it’s consensual, but your choice was ‘marry him’ or die.

Now, your decisions had led to being paraded around in front his men and a strange new group as a trophy. And Daryl was probably dead. And you would probably never see him again.

You were trying not to cry in the semi-darkness.

Suddenly, there was shouting outside, and a lot of movement as people were putting Negan’s plan into action. “Sounds like it’s Showtime.” Negan smiled. “You’ll follow me out and just stand near the RV. And untie that robe, will you?”

“Please don’t make me.” You whisper.

“Are you arguing with me again?”

You shake your head and pull the string, letting the robe fall open to reveal your bra and underwear. It was cold in the RV, and you were starting to shiver. There was a sudden banging on the RV door, and you jumped.

“That’s our cue.” Negan smirked, and stood to leave.

You stood up and walked behind him, out into the blinding headlights in the forest. You clutched your arms tightly around your chest and stood off to the side, staring into the grass as Negan terrorized a new group of people.

You were barely listening as Negan went on and on about how little Rick knew, and how uncool it was for him to kill his men, etc., etc. “And now, I’m going to have to kill one of yours.” He says.

You look up in surprise. You didn’t know he was going to actually kill one. The faces before you were terrified, but they didn’t look like people to be scared of. They looked just like people. They looked like—

“Daryl.” You whispered. There he was, on his knees in the dirt, pale and dizzy and bleeding from a wound in his shoulder. But he was here.

Before you could stop yourself, you rushed forward towards him, and you were stopped by an arm across your waist. “Look at my little wifey.” Negan laughed. “So eager to get in on the action.”

“Please let me go, Negan.” You say quietly, trying to get Daryl to look at you.

“Here.” He says, and hands you Lucille. “If you’re so amped up, why don’t you chose who gets to die.”

You look at him like he’d lost his mind. “No. I won’t.” You try and hand the bat back.

“Oh, c’mon, girl, it’s not that hard. Which one just kind of gets under your skin?” Negan grabs your arm and drags you closer. “Maybe this one,” He points to a red headed man, “He looks mean, right?”

“Stop.” You say.

“Or this girl?” He drags you across the lineup to another woman who was glaring at you. “Or maybe this one. He doesn’t look like he’s worth his weight in quarters right now.” He uses your arm to point the bat at Daryl, and you start crying.

“Y/N?” You hear Daryl whisper, and you know he recognizes you, too.

Negan lets you go, and as he’s going back to the center of the circle they’d made, you quickly whisper, “Help me.”

“Don’t dally, girl.” Negan calls to you. “Who’s your pick?”

You walk sternly back over to where Negan is standing and shove the bat back into his hands. “I won’t.” You say and try to walk back to your spot.

But Negan grabs your wrist, and yanks you back, spinning you around and as you turned to face him again, he struck you hard across the cheek and you fell to the dirt. “Why do you feel it’s OK to argue with me?”

“Stop.” You heard someone say weakly. You knew it was Daryl, but Negan wasn’t able to place it.

“I didn’t ask for opinions from the peanut gallery.” He says, pointing at the group with his bat. “Get back over there.” He says to you as he hauls you back to your feet and shoves you in the direction of your spot near the RV. “I’ll deal with you later.”

You tied your robe quickly around your waist again and clutched your arms tightly to your chest. You stood silently as Negan made his decision, settling on the red-headed man and then beating him to death in front of his friends. You were crying again.

When it’s all over, and Negan has given his instructions to the group, the Saviors start to leave. “Let’s go.” Negan says quietly to you, taking your arm gently.

“Negan, I’m not going.” You say, holding your ground. You see the anger in his eyes, but you plow forward anyway. “You always say being with you is a choice, right? So, I’m choosing to leave. I’m going to take my chances out here.”

“Really.” He says, the sarcasm dripping from his voice. “You’d rather stay here, where that group will probably kill you the second we leave, or walkers will get you in a day or less, than come back to where we have heating and people and you’re on the top of the food chain?”

“Yeah.” You say, trying to make yourself as small as possible so that maybe he wouldn’t hit you again.

He was fuming, but he only clenched his jaw and said, “Fine. But you can’t come back.” Then he turned around, got in his car, and left you there, still standing next to the RV.

The other group was talking amongst themselves and dealing with the grief of their dead member. They hadn’t even noticed that you’d been left behind. Daryl was barely able to stand and was being helped to his feet by the leader, Rick.

You practically ran over, relieved and happy to see him, but you stopped when a silver gun was raised into your face. “Not a step further.” Rick said.

“Rick.” Daryl said.

“What do you people want from us now?” A woman asks. “Haven’t you taken enough from us tonight?”

“I’m not—“ You try, but the group is closing in on you.

“Stop.” Daryl says, trying to speak loudly enough to be heard.

“What, Daryl?” Rick asks, not lowering his gun.

“That’s my wife.” He says, and everyone’s attention suddenly shifts from you to him. “We got separated in Atlanta. But she’s my girl. And she’s with me.”

There’s a moment where no one moves, but then Rick lowers his gun and you rush forward to wrap Daryl in a hug. He groans in pain, but won’t let you pull back. “I’m so glad you’re safe.” You say.

“Me, too.” He whispers.

“We need to get you some help.” You say, pulling out of the hug and looking at Rick. “He needs a doctor.”

Rick nods. “We need to move now, guys. He and Maggie need to get to the Hilltop, so let’s leave now. Before we lose more family members.”

Everyone starts moving fast, and you help Daryl limp his way along into the RV. As you drive along to the Hilltop, you grip his hand tightly, kissing the back of it and whispering that everything was going to be OK. You were here now, and it was all going to be OK.


Check this “Coming Soon” post to see which imagines I’ll be posting next!