Michonne couldn’t remember when she last had a lazy Sunday morning—at least, she thought it was Sunday morning—the days seemed to run together since she and Rick made it back home. It was barely 5:00 a.m.; the sky hadn’t fully awakened. A dusting of stars still littered the sky. The pitter-patter of a light rain had started an hour earlier; the curtains blew in the breeze from the open window. She’d been awake for a while, enjoying the quiet and the man sleeping beside her with his head on her chest.
She ran a hand through his curls. He stirred slightly, then snuggled even deeper into her arms. Lately, that had been his favorite position to sleep in. They always started the night spooned against each other, but somehow, they would end up with his body halfway on top of hers, arms slung around her waist. It was as if he wanted to be as close to her heartbeat as possible to make sure she was still there, still real.
She ran her foot over his leg, admiring his well-toned calf muscles. Her fingernails lightly scratched his bare back. She liked feeling that he was real, too. So many nights when he was gone, she’d woken up feeling for him on his side of the bed only to feel instead the crushing weight of grief when she remembered he wasn’t there and wasn’t coming back - so she thought.
She knew she’d never have to feel that way again. Because there wouldn’t be another night when they weren’t sleeping next to each other. If it weren’t for the kids, they would probably never leave their bed.
Lips caressed her chest, then her neck, then her cheek. Michonne smiled at her husband’s morning wake-up routine. It always started with kisses.
She scratched his scalp. “I thought you were sleeping?”
“I was, but my dream ended. Guess it was time for me to wake up."
“I hope good dreams.”
“I'm dreaming about you again. About us in different worlds.” He kissed her shoulder.
“How did we fall in love this time?”
Rick lifted onto his elbow and stared down at his wife. “We were both walking our dogs at a dog park. They became best friends, then we became best friends and fell in love.”
Michonne laughed. “I like that.”
Rick smiled at her laughter, but his face soon turned serious. “All those years we were apart, I dreamed of ways we could have fallen in love if the world didn’t end. But having too much time to think, I wondered if something like my dreams could happen. Would it have been possible for us to meet in Georgia and fall in love?”
“What was your conclusion?”
“That we wouldn’t because you were too glamorous, too cultured. You wouldn’t want a country boy like me.”
Michonne lips downturned into a slight frown. “No, that’s not it. I like to think that what’s meant to be will always be. Somehow, some way, the universe would have conspired for us to be together. With all of our children alive and well. Nothing about what we have can be denied."
Rick shook his head and stared down at Michonne in awe. “How are you so perfect?”
She ran her hand down his beard. “Not perfect. Just perfect for you.”
He moved fully on top of her. “It’s both. You’re perfect, and we’re perfect together,” he said before devouring her lips.
My favorite myth is and always will be the one that says, 'people have moles on their body, where they were kissed the most in their past life.'
I always feel so much loved when I hear it, when I see the moles on my body and I feel so grateful that, wow, I was so loved.
And maybe it's because of the way I perceive them, the way I form the moments behind them in my mind.
On the way top of my head: Tangled in bed, cooking together in kitchen, doing a task successfully, a little kiss on my head, a kiss of care and affection.
On my eyelid: Maybe when I was sad, maybe in my tender moments, he would kiss on my eyelid. And the thing is, you have to be gentle when you kiss there, you can't rush it and what's love if not to be gentle.
On the corner of my lips: I imagine its like when we are together in bed, hair all messed, his face on my chest, seeking a moment more before we jump into routine of life.
On the collarbone: The intimate moments, the soft lingering kisses which starts the undressing of me.
On the abdomen/ waist: It would be his lips running down my body, his eyes still on mine. As he would rain kisses on my whole body.
On the inside of my wrist: The respectful kisses, the 'I am grateful these hands are mine to hold to' kisses.
On my ring finger: The promise kisses, 'I am going to marry you' kisses, he is filling up that space with kisses until he puts a ring on their finger.
On my foot: The worshipping of beauty, he would massage my feet after long day and drop a kiss there, an announcement of devotion.
J. R. R. Tolkien had a happy and devoted 55 year marriage with his wife Edith. They wed on March 22, 1916, and remained together until Edith’s passing on November 29, 1971.
He attributed this healthy long lasting relationship to his three rules for love that he shared with his son in a private letter.
Rule 1: Your real “soulmate” is whoever you decided to be with.
After watching TOWL through the first time, I went down the rabbit hole of reaction videos and other content and this popped up on my suggestions. It’s an absolute gem. I love their hot takes and analysis. Spot on. 🫶🏼❤️
If I’m not mistaken it’s Kendra aka Marvelmaven aka a prolific excellent richonne fanfic writer. She wrote Vantage point, Machine heart to name a few of my favorites of hers
I made a richonne community ages ago but it never took off but if anyone wants to join please do! I’d love to talk more about them and meet new people who love them too❤️
Rick told Michonne that the ONLY thing he wanted for Father's Day, was a day at home where they didn't do anything, just hung out.
Sure, they'd all spent the night before wrapping the gifts they'd carefully made and picked out for him. Michonne had planned to order food from his favorite restaurant, and the kids had practiced exactly how they were going t ask him to take them on a family walk before bed.
But, the main reason Rick didn't ask for anything, is because he always feels like the best gift is just getting to wake up every morning to a life he never imagined he'd have.
