This is a blog dedicated to Grimescest, which is not only underage but also incestuous. If that squicks you, this may not be the place for you. ALSO, have some prompts you want filled? Lemme know! Or just add me on skype at bebop.berries OR on kik with the same name to discuss this amazing pairing. I'm aaalways looking for more inspiration~
Have you done an Alpha/omega fic yet? You should do one where carl goes into heat while he's on a run with rick and starts begging him to fuck him until rick gives in- bonus points if he calls him daddy a lot lol
god i definitely need to do this. really wanna do one where they’re already bonded and negan (the most badass alpha ever) is all “woah hey bby u smell purdy” and rick’s all “nah man imma beat u up cuz crazy alpha adrenaline” and it wouldn’t be actual negan/carl and definitely not negan/carl/rick (nobody comes between my otp) but yeah. blahhhhh //endrant
Are you still alive? Doing okay? I hope the best for you.
yes i’m still here! i just made a biggish post apologizing for being a no-call-no-show for so long D: thank you so much for the concern; i really do appreciate it <3
man i feel like such garbage for totally ghosting on everyone D: life is what life is and writing fanfics has taken a backseat. i’d really like to get back into it, only i no longer own a laptop and writing on a phone is pretty much impossible. here’s hoping i can actually save up enough money to (stop being such a failure) start this hobby up again.
also just wanna say a huge thank you to everyone who’s sent me messages/asks in my absence. logging on and reading them made me downright delighted that my work has been missed by you guys. yes, even those that think words said over the internet actually hurt. like, since when is telling someone to kill themselves ever resulted in the attacker being on the right side of history? we all have inner demons and bullshit, and whoodathunkit, maybe writing fiction about things in a safe and secure way could actually be therapeutic? anyway this has grown way outta hand and imma end this post and get off my soapbox. keep doin you, guys. lots of love <3 xoxo
p.s.
someone should pay me to write this shit cuz ohgod the ideas i have cookin upppppp <333 u dont even knowww how much i still fantasize about grimescest
so i’ve been a bit of a ghost. was going through old files and found this scrap i must have written like.. a year ago? it's really not much, just the beginning to some pwp followed by a few notes, but i felt like sharing it, if only cuz the this ship is so lonely D; also sorry i poof'd. school, relationship, job, blahhhh, life? idk writing grimescest is something i love but seldom have time for, but stumbling across this has kinda made me wanna start up again.
anyhooo, i dunno, you guys should tell me where you want this fic to go (porn obviously but) gimme feedback, gimme specific details (i'm talkin raunchy, juicy particular kinks or phrases) or whatever you want bascially. help inspire meeeee <3
also this is set at the end of s5e2, when everyone got food and is happy for once (before bob went outside like an idiot)
The somewhat celebratory atmosphere had settled, and Carl watched with a smile as Judith was handed delicately around. He knew too well how a baby, arguably one of the rarest creatures these days, instilled a sense of hope and happiness incomparable to much else. Everyone cooed and waved at her, and Carl found it endearing that her complete lack of understanding as to how precious she was caused everyone to cherish her all the more.
He scanned the room. In the nearest corner sat his father, accompanied by Father Gabirel. They engaged in conversation, though were too far to hear. An intensity flared up there, eye contact maintained to the point of intimidation on the part of Rick, and Carl forced himself to look away. If it was an important conversation, he'd hear about it later.
Content with letting things be, the boy made his way quietly towards the back office, bypassing the one the priest used as his quarters, and slipped soundlessly into the room. Safety in numbers was a privilege he'd never be ungrateful for, but there were times where taking solace in one's own company was a luxury Carl greatly desired.
The space didn't offer much in terms of familiarity. His family had never been very religious, maybe going to church on Christmas, saying their prayers if they remembered. Sunday school was something Carl often grimaced at, not sure why anyone would want more lessons on the weekend. Such childish, ignorant behaviour was something the teen didn't miss, but it was cause for self reflection at least.
Drawings taped to the walls portrayed a more simple and undeniably innocent time. He wondered if any of the children that once fingerprinted pictures of themselves next to Jesus were still alive, how old they would be, what sort of things they'd have to do to still be here. Would they still believe in God, would they even care? After everything Carl had seen, he wasn't sure himself. Maybe it didn't matter.
His footsteps were muffled in the carpet, and though he wasn't going out of his way to be quiet, he was thankful not to draw more attention than necessary. He could hear laughter, voices overlapping in hushed, joyous tones. It brought him a quiet contentment to know that, at least for tonight, everyone was permitted some small relief.
Carl stopped before a large desk near the far wall. It was cast mostly in shadow, save a strip of moonlight that illuminated a modest book. Running his fingers along the sturdy wood of the tabletop,
---
At the sound of the door opening, Carl whipped around. Rick had entered slowly, not intruding on his son so much as peeking in. The man, his larger frame blocking out the light from outside, stepped fully into the room, and shut the door silently. He calmly approached his son, and Carl could practically see the muted concern etched across his father's face, despite the dim lighting from the moon.
"You get enough to eat?"
Carl gave the first affirmative response to the expected question in what felt like years. Their excursion to the food shelf provided them with plenty of food for an honest, semi-warm meal.
---
Carl glanced back at his father. "We didn't really go to church that much, did we?" There was a hint of amusement in his voice,
---
liken the freckles on carl's body to constellations (or some other fancy romantic shizz)
classic rick bein all protective (maybe rubbing his bby boy’s li’l belly all proud and smug that he’s the reason his son was fed)
brief, existential discussion about religion (hopefully somehow a segue into sex?)
detail on Carl tightening his hole around his daddy's dick everytime he's balls deep. use the word "milking"
