#how to save a cat

[carlsdarling]

Hey bae!

Can you do a Carl x reader who has the biggest obsession with cats (like me) and finds out that the cat bit/scratched carl and y/n is like "well you prob made my baby mad" and carl is confusion like "wth???" and later y/n founds carl and her cat cuddling, sleeping, very aborable.💓

How to save a cat part VI

Finally, things come to an end... Y/N and Garfield got a new home. Everyone is 18 or over.

WARNINGS: smut, nsfw, violence, domestic violence, angst

You knocked on the door of the broom closet, your hand anxiously clutching the cup that was warm from your urine. A superstitious, infantile part of you hoped for the impossible, for the miracle - for the pregnancy test to be negative.

Your father snatched the cup from you so that the contents sloshed out, and slammed the door again. With your heart pounding in panic, you huddled in the corner next to the mop; you would have preferred to make yourself invisible. It was cold in the broom closet, you were wearing only your pajamas and slippers, and you were freezing.

Not ten minutes later, the broom closet door opened again, and your father's shadow loomed high above you, eerily distorted, like that of a monster. Not that there was that much difference. "Come out of there," your father hissed, grabbing you and dragging you to your feet, then pushing you out into the hallway, punching you roughly in the back. He shoved you in front of him into the kitchen, where the pregnancy test sat on the table like a death sentence. Your father gave you a shove, sending you stumbling toward the table. The test showed two bold strokes - positive. Of course it was. Your mouth was all dry, and it wasn't because you were thirsty. Your mom was squatting on a chair, her eyes all red.

You backed away until your spine was against the wall. You were nauseous with fear; your father's anger was boundless, the twitching muscle beside his left eye telling. "So you let that son of a primitive policeman impregnate you," he said coldly. "I told you there would be consequences if you didn't stay away from Carl Grimes. Everything in life has consequences." You pressed against the wall in fear. "You will not have this baby, it will be aborted, and afterwards you will never leave the house alone again," your father now said in a conversational tone.

"I don't want an abortion." You were surprised to hear your own voice. "Carl and I love each other, and we want this baby, and we want to live together."

"Please what?" your father asked, stunned, and already he was slapping you so hard your head flung to the side.

"Leave Y/N alone, Robert!" your mom Jenny spoke up unexpectedly. "She's pregnant!" Her hands clenched around the edge of the table.

"Just shut up," your father growled at her. "It's all your fault anyway, Jenny! If you'd raised Y/N right, she never would have hooked up with Carl!" he yelled at her, then grabbed his wife by the arm, yanked her off the chair, and hurled her viciously across the kitchen. Your mom slammed into the dishwasher and fell to the floor, dazed.

"Stop it! Stop hitting Mom!" you scream at him, shrieking.

His head jerked around. "Oh, that's right, it's all about you, you little whore!" You tried to run away, but he held you down and started beating you like crazy until you were on the floor. You rolled up to protect yourself from his blows and kicks, but it was no use; the punches hammered down on you. You tasted blood. In the background, your mom was screaming, trying to pull your dad away from you, but she was unsuccessful; he just pushed her aside and kept on beating.

"I hate you," you moaned, "I hate you immensely. I wish you were dead and not Brooke," you spat back at him.

He then dragged you up from the floor, dragged you to the back door, opened it, and just threw you out, into the cold autumn weather where a storm was raging. You remained lying at the foot of the stairs, every bone of your battered body aching. "You are no longer my daughter," your father roared. "See where you stay with your brat!" He disappeared. It took only a few minutes, you had not yet processed what had happened, when he opened the door again and threw the animal transport box with Garfield out of the house. The cat meowed indignantly and snarled.

Sobbing, you struggled to your feet, took the box and slowly moved away from the house. The freezing rain soaked your pajamas, and your bare feet immediately went numb from the cold.

Rick's house was on the other side of Alexandria, and by the time you got there, you were at the end of your strength. You fell down on the porch and stayed there shivering and scratching at the door. It was Michonne who opened, discovered you, and cried out in horror. Then Rick was there, too, and Carl. Rick carefully picked you up and carried you into the house; Carl took the box with Garfield in it. They bedded you down on the couch in the living room; Michonne got a blanket and bandages. Carl held your hand the whole time, while you told what had happened, crying. "You're pregnant?" asked Rick, aghast, looking back and forth between you and Carl.

Carl nodded, blushing. "We...we wanted to escape," he confessed haltingly. "And seek shelter somewhere else, to be together there, with our child. We were planning to go to Hilltop, or Oceanside, or Sanctuary. Anything is better than here with Y/N's father. At least Negan would have taken us in for sure."

"Why didn't you tell me, Carl?" asked Rick, concerned.

"I didn't want to get you involved," Carl muttered. "I was afraid of Robert Andrews. That thing with my stomach, that...was him too, that wasn't a walker, I lied." He looked fearfully at the floor. "He beat me up, and he said I do not deserve to live. I was afraid he would take revenge on you if you helped us."

Rick's lips turned white with anger. Not only had the governor mistreated Y/N and thrown her out of the house, even though she was expecting a child, no, he had also seriously injured Carl and scared him so badly that Carl had wanted to seek help elsewhere rather than from his own father. He stood up with a sudden jerk.

Michonne seemed to suspect what he was up to. "You need to go get Denise right away, Rick," she admonished, "Y/N needs a doctor." She dabbed blood from your injured lip.

"First I'll wake Denise, then I'll go to Robert," Rick announced in anger, clenching his fists.

"My mom in still in the house," you said worriedly. "He hit her, too. I don't know what's up with her." Garfield grew restless in his box and meowed.

"You're safe here," Carl assured you, "Y/N can stay with us, right?" He squeezed your hand reassuringly. "She can't go back there, and we want to keep the baby."

Michonne and Rick exchanged a look. "Of course," Rick said before leaving.

                                                 ***

Rick rang Denise from sleep, then immediately made his way to the governor's house. Once there, he vibrated with anger. Briefly, he stopped in front of the house. The windows were brightly lit, unlike the neighborhood where everything was dark. Rick trudged up the steps to the front door and pounded on the door.

The governor yanked the door open. "I told you, I don't have a daughter anymore, so..." That's as far as he got, Rick's fist landed right in his face. His nose cracked, blood gushed out, and he cried out. Rick dragged him out of the house, twisted his arm, and threw him over the banister into the garden bed. Before your father could get up again, Rick was on top of him, beating him half to death. Robert Andrews didn't stand a chance against Rick's fury; anyway, he wasn't a particularly strong man, he could only go after weaker people. "Your time as governor of this community is over!" shouted Rick. Lights were turned on in the surrounding houses. "What you did to Carl is unforgivable, and then you hit your daughter, a pregnant girl! You're a miserable piece of shit, and everyone's going to know it, and you're going to spend the rest of your life in a jail cell, I swear to you!" He didn't let go of Robert Andrews until he was unconscious and covered in blood and not moving, then he entered the house and looked around searchingly. He found your mother, Jenny, lying at the foot of the basement stairs with a broken leg and severely injured, and carried her up to the first floor, where he laid her on the sofa. "I will send Siddiq to you," he promised. "And your husband will be imprisoned."

                                                           ***

Everything happened as Rick had predicted: as soon as Robert Andrews could leave the infirmary, he went to jail, and the position of governor was taken away from him. In his place, Rick and Carol were elected as equal governors. Your mom, who was openly resented in Alexandria for not fighting back and advocating for her daughters for years, decided to move to Oceanside, and your parting was frosty. Maybe someday you would be able to forgive her for her cowardice-Jenny herself had been intimidated and abused by your father-but right now you weren't able to; the fact that she had tolerated everything for so long and had taken refuge in alcohol and pills ran too deep.

Your pregnancy progressed and gradually became visible, and Carl was delighted and couldn't stop touching and caressing your belly. Carl and you had been given one of the larger bedrooms, which had a double bed, and Carl's old room was being made up as a baby's room.

You hadn't been intimate since moving in with Rick because your injuries had needed to heal and you hadn't felt like it; plus, nausea was bothering you daily. However, you spent a lot of time cuddling in bed, watching movies and playing video games. The weather was bad anyway; it had been raining almost constantly for weeks and everything was sinking into the mud.

Carl and the cat Garfield had not yet become accustomed to each other and looked at each other suspiciously. Garfield loved to lie on your bed. One day Carl indignantly showed you four bloody, parallel scratches on his hand. "That was Garfield," he complained. "He just doesn't like me."

Incensed, you put down your coffee cup. "I'm sure you've been annoying him," you accused Carl.

"No!" he defended himself. "Garfield was laying on my bathrobe. I was just trying to push him away, and he clawed at me!"

"If the cat is laying anywhere, you have to leave him alone," you instructed Carl indignantly, whereupon he pouted and disappeared.

A few days later, you went with Michonne to the storage to get food. When you returned, you found Carl fast asleep on your bed, curled up on his side. In the curve of his belly rested Garfield, Carl had buried his fingers in the cat's fur. As you approached, the cat blinked sleepily at you, whereas Carl did not wake up. "Looks like you and Garfield have finally made friends," you noted with a grin over dinner.

"Well, we had no choice," Carl grumbled, feeding Garfield a piece of cheese.

That evening, when the two of you went to bed, you were already in bed watching Carl undress. He threw his flannel and shirt on the floor, took off the bandage, yawned, got out of his jeans and looked around searching for the shirt he slept in. His lean muscles flexed under his pale skin; in the light of the bedside lamp, Carl's body looked chiseled. He spotted the shirt on the armchair and reached for it. "Don't," you said in a soft voice. "Come here." You grabbed Carl's hands and pulled him down to you to kiss him, then playfully let your fingers slide over his flanks and stomach.

"Are you sure?" Carl regarded you uncertainly; his gaze wandered to your belly, at once hesitant and desirous. You could see he was already aroused, poor Carl, it had just been too long - though you suspected he jerked off regularly in the shower.

"Yes," you purred, "I want you inside me, Carl." You reached for his boxers and slipped them off, his dick sprang free, the slightly reddish tip leaking drops of precum. "Someone's in a rush," you chuckled. "It's weird doing it here, with your parents next door," you remarked.

Carl waved it off. "It's not like they don't know we're having sex," he said dismissively. He climbed into bed with you and kissed you fiercely, pressing against you longingly. "Do you need foreplay today, doll?" he whispered. "Because I don't think I can wait long." He moaned softly as you stroked his shaft, sliding his hand between your legs to find you wet. "Perfect," he murmured, spreading your thighs and laying on top of you, propping himself up on his elbows as he slowly slid into you. You had to get used to him again, to his size stretching you out, but then it was wonderful when Carl started moving gently inside you.

"Oh God, Carl," you whimpered as your arousal continued to rise. His breath brushed hotly over your skin, and his back became slick with sweat as you made love so vigorously that the headboard of the bed scraped loudly against the wall. Then suddenly there was a "plop." You turned your head - and looked into two amber big eyes scrutinizing you punishingly. "Garfield! Ssccchhsccchh!" you shooed away the red cat, who had sat down cheekily next to your pillow. The cat hopped onto the floor, from where he continued to watch you in fascination.

Carl paused irritated in his actions. You felt his cock soften.

"This...I can't do it like this," he stammered. "Not with him watching us."

With an unwilling sound, you stood up, picked up the cat, and set him outside the room before returning to Carl. He had rolled over onto his back and was winking at you, rubbing his dick, which was already stiff again. "Ride me," he demanded in a raspy voice. His eye was half closed.

Tantalizingly slowly, you sat on top of him and let him watch as you let his cock slip into your pussy. Carl arched up under you and moaned, his cheeks all red, his mouth half open. You loved to see him like this, completely lost in his pleasure. You lazily moved your hips until Carl begged you. "Please, faster," he begged. "I'm so close." He curled his long fingers into your butt and began moaning loudly as the orgasm washed over him, pumping hot spurts of cum into you. You bent over and buried your face in Carl's brown hair as you also cum and yelled out. Carl hugged you tightly as both of your arousal slowly subsided. "I love you, princess," he whispered happily.

"I love you too, Carl." You kissed him on the lips and lay down next to him, snuggling close.

                                                           ***

Five months later, you gave birth to a baby girl. You named your daughter Ruby Lorraine - Lorraine after Carl's mother, Lori. All of Alexandria was delighted with the dark-haired, cute baby when you took her for walks.

Your father now had to do janitorial work and sweep the streets, and you and Carl carefully avoided meeting with him.

At some point, he had gotten it into his head that he wanted to see his granddaughter, and showed up at your house. "You have forfeited any right to have contact with your daughter or granddaughter," Rick informed him coldly. "And if you come within ten yards of Ruby, I will kill you."

You were fine with that - you hadn't had a father in a long time, in fact you had never had one.

Tags: @loveforcarl @knochentrocken0808 @tessasweet @taylormarieee @xxcarlswifexx

[salamispots]

it got turned into a 17" x14" pillow instead haha

[heartorbit]

searching for a star that's still unknown to anyone!

[thewisestdino]

Bluestar and 43?

Like we never could before I'd fly to you tomorrow, I'm not fighting in this war I wanna drop my arms and take your arms And walk you to the shore

[emacrow]

Um.. Superman.. what that thing stuck on your cape?

Clark's brain short circuit for a moment as he just got back of flying at great speed in the middle of deep space to thrown one of Lex's giants bombs destroy the city and come back in record time.

He turn a bit to look at his cape to see a tiny humanoid starlight dust covered child with white hair, glowing full green that look like white specks stars were implanted themselves into his big ol eyes, nawing on a handful of stardust with inhumanly sharp itsy bitsy fangs.

A small yet floating crown that look similar to one of Nasa pictures of far out space.

Did he just accidentally abducted an royal alien child/teen?

[rooniearts]

« And he’d be lowkie worried if he wasn’t yapping » ? Could we pretty please have Gawain and Galahad angst ?

[Referencing the tags on this post]

his ass does NOT know how to cope with not being greeted with instant overwhelming joy

[meltedmush]

Bulk post of my weekly illustrations!

[charlie-rulerofhell]

Lord Hans Capon of Pirkstein

{slaying, shooting and casually dodging his way through life}

bonus:

[geiba]

not good at riding huh? pillow princess

[anjoviva]

PLEASE SAVE MY EARTH (1993-1994) OVA 🐈‍⬛ dir. Kazuo Yamazaki

[carlsdarling]

How to save a cat Part III

The relationship between Carl and Y/N evolves, and not everyone appreciates that… Everyone is 18 or over.

WARNINGS: smut, nsfw, angst, violence

Over the next few weeks, Garfield recovered. And it was inevitable: The relationship between you and Carl evolved rapidly. You only met secretly, either at secluded places in Alexandria, or Carl climbed on the roof under your window at night, woke you up by tapping softly on the window, and then you sat together on the roof for hours, holding hands, making out a bit and looking at the stars. Most of the time, though, you just talked. But there was always the danger of being seen and caught.

One night the mood between you was very sexy, and it ended with you having your hands in Carl's pants and stroking him, Carl bucking his hips, moaning softly, and caressing your boobs. "Do you mind if I cum on your hand, baby?" whispered Carl, breathless with arousal.

"No," you kissed him softly on the lips as he also began to spill his cum all over your hand, whimpering. With hearts beating wildly, you held each other. You didn't have anything with you to clean yourselves up.

Carl looked at you. "Y/N?" You raised an eyebrow. "Would you like to maybe... sleep with me?" he asked shyly.

"Now?" you responded in shock. It wasn't very comfortable on the roof - especially for someone who was inexperienced - and the night breeze quite chilly, and there was no way you could take Carl to your room. Your parents could notice it. But you also desired it - Carl's caresses excited you incredibly, besides, you were head over heels in love with him. You wanted to be as close to Carl as possible.

"No," he said hurriedly, laughing nervously, "Of course not right now. I meant sometime, soon." He cracked his knuckles and glanced at you uncertainly.

"Yes," you replied simply and kissed him. "I want to make love to you, too, Carl."

He beamed happily at you. "Okay. I'll take care of condoms." A little later he said goodbye and climbed down the tree in front of your house, walking home elated. Neither of you suspected that he was being watched from a downstairs window.

                                                 ***

The next morning, Carl was on his way to his guard duty. He had slept too long and was already running late, hurrying down the streets of Alexandria. Guilelessly, he rounded a corner when someone unexpectedly grabbed him by the upper left arm, brutally punched him in the stomach twice, ripped off his bandage and threw it in the dirt, then twisted his arm. Tears welled up in Carl's eyes, he couldn't even scream, the pain in his stomach was so intense. "You stay away from my daughter, Carl," your father hissed hatefully in Carl's ear. "Y/N is way too good for you, you're not worthy of her, just look at you," he said with a sneer. "The sight of you is an inconvenience. Your scar is hideous. No wonder you always cover it up. It would have been better if you had died from that shot. I won't let my daughter ever be seen with someone like you, understand? You look like some creature from Wrong Turn, who could ever love you?" he taunted Carl before pushing him to the ground, sneering at him and sauntering off as if nothing had happened. Carl lay curled up on the ground holding his stomach, tears streaming down his face.

No one had ever spoken so viciously about his injury; not even Negan. The latter had made fun of it and marveled at the empty eye socket, but then conceded that it had just been a joke and Carl had no reason to be ashamed of the scar. But this was different. Carl was aware that he might have been the first to look behind the governor's smooth facade and realize what lurked behind it: an abysmally evil and empathy-less man. Robert Andrews, the governor, was dangerous, and Carl was very afraid for you.

After a while, Carl managed to get to his feet and made his way to your house with a bad feeling.

There, hidden behind a wall, he spotted your father who was chopping down the tree in front of the house. Carl knew there was nothing he could do right now; reluctantly he went home, with his stomach ache and sprained arm he could not do his guard duty anyway.

You were caught off guard by events just as Carl was before. You left the bathroom to go downstairs to breakfast when your father grabbed you by the hair, yanked you around and threw you against the wall. You yelled out loud as your shoulder was bruised. Before you could get up again, he kicked you several times, then grasped you by the collar and dragged you to your room. "You get to watch me cut down the tree in front of the house now," he let you know with a cold smile. "No more Carl climbing up to your window. No more sneaky dates. No more dating at all! I warned you. You're to stay away from that white trailer park trash. You stick to your room!"

He slammed the door and locked you in, and you broke down crying. Garfield lay on the bed watching you from his big amber eyes, then came to snuggle up to you. He meowed quietly. You buried your face in the cat's soft fur, sobbing desperately. But you were already so used to your father's abuse that you quickly shrugged it off. You just hoped he would leave Carl alone.

Not wanting other people to become aware of how he was treating you, your dad let you out the next day. "'See Carl Grimes again, and you'll regret it. And so will he," he threatened. "I'll find out."

That's why you were half-mad with fear when you met Carl behind the stables a few hours later. He looked pale and unhappy, and you fell into each other's arms. You noticed immediately that Carl tensed in your embrace, as if he were in pain. "Carl? What's wrong?" you asked alarmed. He held his stomach, his face contorted. "Are you hurt?"

"It's nothing," he groaned, avoiding looking you in the eyes. "It's just... yesterday I was fighting with a walker, and he grabbed me and threw me onto a trash can."

You reached for his flannel and shirt and lifted both. "Oh, God, Carl," you said in horror. A huge hematoma was visible below his ribs. "That must hurt terribly. Poor you. Come here." You stroked his back. "We have to be more careful," you whispered. "My dad, he knows. He chopped down the tree."

Carl nodded somberly. "I saw it. Do you want us to break up? I could understand," he said sadly. "I might not be good enough for you anyway, either. You're so pretty, you come from a politician's dynasty, and I'm just... maybe someone else would be better for you." He fiddled with the bandage. "You don't have to feel obligated to be with me just because I helped you with Garfield, you know."

Disgruntled, you groped for his hand. "Carl, what is this bullshit? What makes you think I don't want you anymore? I love you, you moron. And I don't want to be with anyone but you." You involved him in a kiss. "We just need to be more careful," you repeated. "Already forgotten, you get condoms," you tried to lighten the atmosphere.

Carl silently hugged you to him and stroked your head. "We'll just meet outside," he then decided. "I'll take the car out by myself, and you climb over the wall, and then I'll meet you outside Alexandria."

You nodded. "That's what we'll do."

                                                 ***

When Carl went home later, he encountered Michonne in the kitchen. Rick was apparently not home. Carl had been unable to bring himself to tell you about your father's assault on him; he didn't want to add fuel to the fire, and he was also ashamed of how helpless he had been.

It had also stirred up unpleasant memories in him, of how he had almost been raped then, of how he had been lying on the wooden soil, unable to defend himself, at the mercy of his tormentor. Most of the time Carl repressed it all, but now it was present again and tortured him. He just couldn't talk about it.

And your father's spiteful words burned inside him and made him feel bad and worthless to top it off.

Michonne immediately recognized that something was wrong with Carl. "Carl? What's the matter?" she asked cautiously, lowering the knife she had been using to slice carrots.

He hesitantly met her gaze. "Uum, it... it's just, I have a girlfriend." Michonne tilted her head in confusion. Carl's expression didn't match the happy news. "It's Y/N, the governor's daughter, and... and he doesn't want that. He's told me very clearly that I'm not what he wants, and I'm not good enough, and he doesn't want me and Y/N together, but we love each other." Carl rubbed his chin defiantly. "So we're meeting secretly, just outside of Alexandria now, but I... we plan to... soon, so, we want to have sex with each other, and I need condoms," he then blurted out, red-faced.

Michonne was trying to process all this information. Despite everything, she was glad that Carl had confided in her. "The condom thing is no problem Carl, but where are you guys going to go? Why don't you just come here and go to your room? You know you have your privacy there.“

Carl's eye widened. "No," he protested. "Y/N would never enter our house, she's far too afraid of her dad finding out!" He looked scared himself.

Michonne frowned and pushed aside the incredulous anger at the governor. Carl and Y/N didn't deserve this. So it would probably happen in the back seat of Carl's car, on some country lane where Carl and Y/N could neither relax nor feel safe. Michonne felt bad at the thought - Carl wasn't just her best friend, he was like a son to her. She would have liked something less complicated for him.

Carl seemed to have read her mind, because he said, "We have a place we can go where it's safe and we'll be undisturbed," he revealed to her. "Don't worry about it."

Michonne looked at him inquiringly, registering how tense he was and how pasty. "I'm glad to hear that. But Carl, that's not all, there's more," she said softly. Carl's lower lip quivered, then he began to cry.

Michonne took him in her arms, and now he was sobbing. "Robert Andrews... he said to me I was ugly because of the scar, no one would ever love me, and it would have been better if I had died then," he said in a choked voice. "He said it was an inconvenience to have to look at me."

"That's not true," Michonne said, aghast, holding Carl a little away from her to stare at him. His eye was red from crying.

"Yes, it is," he sniffled. "That's what he said." He didn't mention the beating.

Michonne was speechless, she would have preferred to go right out and kill the governor, but she forced herself to be calm so as not to upset Carl even more. He looked like he had hardly slept anyway. She cuddled him gently and murmured comforting words. "I'll get you the condoms, and then the two of us will bake waffles with strawberries," she announced, struggling to somehow cheer Carl up. He loved waffles with strawberries. "And after that, you're going to sleep." Later, she would talk to Rick about it.

Rick was sad and angry when he learned about it later. Carl had endured so much awfulness in his short life, so many losses, and now this douchebag of a so-called governor was insulting him and shattering his self-confidence. Rick was so proud of how Carl's personality had developed, and Lori would have been, too, had she lived to see it. Hershel as well.

Couldn't Robert Andrews see how lovable, brave and sensible Carl was? How could he behave so callously toward him? Besides, it just wasn't true that the scar disfigured him; even if Carl himself still saw it differently. "I could kill Andrews," Rick growled. "Where's Carl?"

"He's asleep," Michonne informed him. "He said he had a headache. And I'm afraid you'll only make things worse for Carl and Y/N if you confront the governor." Frustrated, she threw a rag into the sink. "I already told Carl that it's really important that they use protection every time. If Y/N gets pregnant, it would be fatal."

                                                  ***

The next day, Carl made his way to the main gate. Negan had arrived, some goods were to be traded, and since Rick was on a mission of exploration in a nearby town, that task fell to Carl.

His stomach still aching, he slowly circled one of Negan's pick-ups and looked at the goods on the back of the truck - oranges, lemons and more exotic fruits. "Okay, we can use several palettes of these," he said, holding his stomach unobtrusively. "In exchange, we'll offer eggs, bacon and corn."

Negan eyed Carl from top to bottom. "What's the problem, serial killer?" he then asked straightforwardly. "You look like shit."

"Oh, thanks, Negan," Carl replied aggrieved. "I already know I'm so ugly I'd better be dead, and the sight of me is an insult! You don't have to tell me that, just shut the fuck up!" he yelled at Negan.

The latter flinched, startled. "That's not what I mean," he said, puzzled. "You look really sick, Carl. You're as white as a ghost." Again he eyed Carl. "You haven't been... bitten, have you?" he asked in a lowered voice.

"No," Carl muttered. "It's just, a zombie threw me on a trash can, and my stomach's been hurting ever since. It'll be fine," he finished sullenly.

"Doesn't look like it. You have two doctors in your crappy Alexandria town," Negan opined sternly. "You should see one of them. For your own sake. Just my two cents." He shook his head in annoyance.

So, after completing the trade, Carl went to the doctor's office, where he found Siddiq, and also told him the tall tale of the walker who had attacked him. Siddiq instructed Carl to lie down and expose his abdomen, then carefully palpated Carl’s body. Carl wailed in pain. "That's a massive bruise, Carl," Siddiq expressed with concern. The injury was just below Carl's old scar. "What other symptoms do you have? Did you throw up after the accident?"

"Twice," Carl admitted meekly. "The abdominal pain is pretty bad, too."

"Did you witness blood coming out of any part of your body?" insisted Siddiq.

"Um, no." Carl pulled down his shirt and sat up.

Siddiq sighed and rummaged around in a closet. "I hope you don't have a ruptured spleen, and that it's just a bad bruise," he then informed Carl, handing him some pain killers. "We'll have to wait and see. Take the pills, and get into bed. You need rest. Do not lift anything heavy. No strenuous activity. I will check on you tomorrow." Carl nodded gratefully and went home.

[toki-toro]

Pointy

[wishchip106]

crazy this guy can kill anyone with a thought

he’s just a silly billy

he don’t need to mind control me to do anything sign me up to be a child soldier get me in the field

[heartorbit]

i want to know everything that makes you happy! 💫🪐🎇

[centaur-dreaming]

Jean not understanding why Renee saved him until he’s leaving the house in just his helmet and gloves and breaking every speed limit on his way to do exactly the same thing for Jeremy

[shsl-simp]

blinkhy.,.,,.,