#missusgrimes

[wexarethewalkingxdead]

@missusgrimes

Rick could see his family, all of them, scrambling to the bridge to save him. He was hurt. The rebar had torn through his body, and the pain was almost unbearable. The blood loss had slowed him down, and even if they somehow managed to turn the walkers around, he was certain that it wouldn't be enough. He can see Michonne's face as she's screaming his name, but he raised the Colt, trying to put all of his focus on firing and hitting the dynamite that had spilled out onto the bridge.

Then it's all over. He can feel the heat from the blast as the bridge is blown apart, forcing him into the air and knocking him into the water with the walkers. He felt the rushing water and the ice-cold of the water as he's being pulled downstream. He lost consciousness and everything went black.

He felt the world as it pulled him back to a conscious state. His fingers twitched as they lay on the bed, and he can hear the steady beep of machines, but there is no pain. He feels nothing. His eyes move rapidly underneath his eyelids as he tried desperately to force them open. They feel leaden and like they are sewn shut. He tried to speak but his mouth was dry. His entire body felt heavy as he tried to claw his way to consciousness.

He can hear voices around him, but he can't pinpoint whose voices they are as he struggled to let them know that he was there, that he was trying to get back to them. "Mic-michonne," he whispered, hearing it louder in his head than he knew he'd spoken it out loud. He forced his eyes open just a slit, but it's not Michonne that's at his bedside. It's not Michonne that has his hand in hers.

"Lo-Lori?" This couldn't be. Something was wrong. She was dead. She'd been dead for so long. His eyes fell back closed as he fought desperately to open them again. "Where's Michonne?" He felt the tears as they slipped down the sides of his eyes to disappear into his hair. This wasn't right. It was all wrong, and he was afraid. He wanted to get back to Michonne and to Judith. His family needed him, and he was lost in some kind of fucked up dream.  "Judith? Where's Judith?" His voice sounded foreign even to his own ears.

[staysaliive]

moment of appreciation for @missusgrimes , though.

this magnificent woman not only offered to make me a promo to help revamp this blog, but she ALSO went through the process of learning new techniques and skills just to make this promo turn out the way she envisioned it and honestly that’s so amazing of her to do?? like she put forth so much effort and I’ve never had a promo so beautiful. you’re amazing, madame. 

everyone go follow our love.

[enduer]

big boy it's your birth

birthday  wishes  (  2  days  later  )

[immunety]

“ why do you have a baby with you ? “ guard had been up at first , arrow ready to fire . the footsteps echoed but they hadn’t sounded like a walker . she’d thought a voice reached her ears , but she’d heard voices before . arrow aimed at where she believed head might be before the sight made her lower her bow . she still held the arrow tight , refused the desire to give some slack . it made her feel safer , feel as though she was somewhat ready to strike . “ you didn’t get bit .. did you ? “ voice almost shakes but she catches it , fingers twitch on the end of the arrow ; she’s better with a bow , it’s easier for her . it’s too quiet , it’s getting dark and she knows she’s lost , she wonders if the other is too .

@missusgrimes      after ages of waiting because i’m the worst !!

[redmachette-blog]

@missusgrimes liked this for the starter

THEY’VE HAD THEIR SHARE OF FIGHTS. The two of them had been angry, yelled—screamed at one another. But this? This was different. The leader is so angry he literally can’t even speak. No words are coming to him. The man is sitting in the tent—the tent he shared with his wife, staring down at the morning after pills, foil ripped and pills gone from it. 

HE CAN’T EVEN LOOK AT HER. How could she do this? How could she make this massive decision without even so much as talking to him first? Yes—in the end the decision was ultimately hers but the fact that she didn’t even come to him first? That hurt like hell. Instead of coming to him, her husband she went to Glenn to take care of it. 

“HOW COULD YOU?”

[lucygrms-blog]

@missusgrimes​​​  liked  for  a  starter   ♡

                             the  only  thing  worth  taking    special  note    of  when  taking  inventory  of  new  supplies  had  been  a  half  full  box  of  some  name  brand    beer     (  admittedly  not  one  of  lucy’s    favorites    when  it  came  to  taste  )     she  had  stowed  it  away  in  her  special  stash .    &    now    could  be  found  drinking  that  same  beer  in  a  bottle  on  the  porch  of  her  home  in  alexandria ,    eyes  closed  as  the  first  sip  passes  her  lips .    and  as  quickly  as  the  moment  had  come ,    it  passed  at  the  sound  of  feet    padding  up  the  steps .         ❝     snitches  get    stitches    ----     ❞            lips  curve ,    and  fingers  dip  down  to  the  bag  hidden  behind  the  folding  chairs  set  up ,    lifting  a  bottle    similar    to  her  own .                      ❝     i  won’t  tell  if  you  don’t .     ❞

[spilledblood-a]

          He still hasn’t opened it.

          He could have read every letter Carl wrote, but not the one addressed to him. It’s still tucked away and there’s a reminder in his head, telling him that it’s still there. Still present.

          Carl’s gone. Preserving the letter and hiding it from his own eyes doesn’t make it less real. But, damn does he want that to be the case – he wants to bury himself in the delusion that as long as he doesn’t read it yet, it won’t change anything.

          His footsteps are heavy as he makes his way to the steps of Barrington House, bringing himself down to sit next to his wife.

          ❝ Have you read yours yet? ❞ Rick asks, voice low, wondering if she'd gone through it or was as stuck as he was.

( @missusgrimes liked for a starter )

[tophct--a]

missusgrimes replied to your post: O HERE WE GO WITH THE RICHONNE SCENE I’M ABOUT TO...

rick’s little sob im fukcing done

i would like 1 ticket to death