olive-enjoyer

[olive-enjoyer]

Posting this for the 5 dungeon meshi fans on tumblr

[olive-enjoyer]

#real

i was born to eat snacks and kiss cute girls

[olive-enjoyer]

#needthat

[olive-enjoyer]

Believe victims.

Although I will never endorse death threats or any form of harmful speech on the Internet, some of y'all need to rip your head out of your fucking asses and appreciate that Jutty Taylor must take accountability for his actions, but y'all be thinking "he would never do anything like that" YOU DO NOT KNOW HIM. I swear it is these parasocial relationships that really fuck up people's perception of right and wrong. Always, ALWAYS believe the victim.

[olive-enjoyer]

Honey Eyes

TWD Story - Michonne x OC

Tw: Mentions of blood

I am inspired by @olive-enjoyer, who said there was a shortage of Michonne fics, and I wanted to change that.

So, here is that prologue for you.

Enjoy <3

———————————

Things had just begun to settle, and the group at the prison continued to grow. Despite the blood that had been spilled after the Governor initiated a war between the prison and Woodbury, the prison had finally started to feel like a home. Somewhere, they could finally build a good foundation to live in. 

At least that is what Hershel had reminded Rick of once the perimeter had been secured and the walls rebuilt.

Of course, Rick had separated himself from any role of leadership. He had help from Hershel when building the foundations for the planting system, and he had Carl by his side as they both learned how to regain the parts of themselves they had started to lose. 

As for the rest of the main group, they had focused on keeping things in line, which started with them creating a council. Sasha, Glenn, Michonne, Daryl, Carol, and Hershel were the main few in charge of the decision made in favor of the group. Like building the outdoor kitchen, the washing stations, the crop farm, when and who went on supply runs. 

Mainly consisting of Michonne choosing to leave, looking for the Governor and scavenging for supplies in the process, and Daryl who often chose who would be of the most optimal use depending on the needs of the group in that moment. 

Which leads back to the beginning of this new chapter in these characters' lives.

—------------------

The morning had begun like no other. Rick being the first one up as he relished in the feeling of the sun on his skin, the prison and its people slowly gaining consciousness and following the routine that had slowly started to implement itself into their lives, and Carl being one of the last few to emerge from his cell after spending the night reading the last batch of comics Michonne had brought for him. 

After everyone had their fill of deer meat during breakfast, that Daryl himself had killed and Carol had cooked, the council met in the prison’s library to discuss the next issue that had been brought to attention throughout the past few days. 

Hygiene.

It’s no surprise that most if not all of the people in the prison had no issue dealing with bad smells after the apocalypse happened, but having so many people so close together brought forth the thought of illness. How soon would the evasion of proper hygiene bring sickness to the people in the prison? And how can they stop that from happening?

They implemented the plan of fixing the showering system that the prison already had, but the only hole in this plan was that the pipes were broken, and many of the shower heads had already begun to rust. Leaving them useless, and this also led to the group requiring the tools and equipment to fix it. So, they hatched a plan that included Daryl and, by persuasion, Sasha, going out to the nearest hardware store. It wouldn’t take them the full day to make the run, but with the amount of supplies they needed to bring back, they decided to take a car and hopefully be back before nighttime. 

The two left and within the hour, reached the store. As they stepped out of the car and scoped the area looking for walkers, killing the ones that they did find, they went to clear the store. To their surprise, they found that the store had already been cleared, which led them to be on edge as they cautiously walked inside. Sasha signaled Daryl to split up, and they did to cover more ground and gain the advantage of surprising whoever was inside. If someone were inside. 

Daryl took the right side of the store. Swiftly weaving through the shelves keeping an eye out for anything that would give him an idea as to why a store like this would be clear of any threats, but still have everything someone would want to take, inside. 

He found traces of what to others might have looked like a walker roaming around the store and bumping into things, however to his trained eyes he clearly saw the traces of fresh blood droplets litering the floor. 

On the other side of the store, Sasha had been doing the same. Skillfully moving about the oddly tidy space, careful not to knock anything over, and looking for any signs of what could be a possible danger. Which she found none of, but instead she uncovered a small puddle of blood the size of her palm near the entrance of a red door. Had it not been fresh blood, she might have ignored it, but it was fresh, and that was unusual. So, she held her gun firmly with her dominant hand, while her other hand reached for the handle of the door. Sasha braced herself. Her mind rummaged through the endless possibilities of what could lie behind that red door, what it was that she would lay her eyes upon once she opened it. 

She took a deep breath, fixed her stance, and yanked the door open.

Nothing. Nothing had jumped out at her, confused and unable to see anything inside the dimly lit room, she took out her flashlight and took a step forward. It had just been an ordinary broom closet, but near the back, she could see the outline of a figure. Again, she raised her weapon and pressed forward, being attentive to her surroundings. That’s when she saw it. The culprit of the blood on the floor. 

She sighed, seeing the blood all over the body, and assuming they were dead, she took out her knife and approached the body. Raising it to the head, she prepared to kill it before it turned. 

Her body jolted and she fell back, landing on her ass, as the girl in front of her opened her eyes and lunged forward coughing. 

“Shit, Daryl!”

—————————————-

Im horrible at being consistent, but I’ve had this story planned out for a while so, I’ll try my absolute best to get it done.

Anyway…byeeee <3

[olive-enjoyer]

Supply run - Michonne x Reader

yes this is self indulgent and NO it’s not proofread. Enjoy <3

It was quiet - too quiet.

You could feel your wife’s presence just behind your shoulder, the way her breath stayed steady even though you'd both been walking for hours. Michonnes katana was sheathed across her back, but her hand stayed close to the hilt, fingers twitching at every stray rustle in the brush.

"looks clear," you whisper, sweeping your flashlight over the collapsed gas station.

"Let’s make this quick," Michonne replies, voice low, with that same calm edge she always carried.

You watched her break off toward the pharmacy aisle, god, she looked good — even in blood-smeared cargo pants and that old tank top that had seen better days.

You snap yourself out of it and search for essentials: water, bandages, medicine, some half-crushed protein bars. When you finally made your way back to her, she was crouching in front of the scattered shelf, a bottle of painkillers in her hand. Michonne’s sharp eyes always found things others missed. You crouched beside her, scanning labels on the bottom shelf

“Got what we need babe?” you ask, both of you standing back up.

“Mostly.” Her eyes flicked to the door. “We’ve got time, i don’t think there’s any walkers near.”

You raised a brow. “So what are we doing now?”

Her smirk was subtle - the kind that always meant trouble. She stepped closer, slow and deliberate, until your back met the edge of the counter.

"Thinking maybe we savour this rare moment of privacy," she murmured, her fingers brushing over your side.

Your breath hitched. “Michonne…”

“You’ve been looking at me like that since we left Alexandria” she said, voice lower. “Thought I didn’t notice?”

“I—maybe I was.”

“Maybe?” Her mouth was at your ear now, her lips grazing your skin. “Let me help you be sure.”

She kissed you, slow and deep, like she had all the time in the world - like the apocalypse didn’t exist outside. Her hands moved to your hips, grounding you, the tension of the past few days melting away between every press of her lips and grind of her body.

When you finally pulled back for air, your heart warming , she rested her forehead against yours.

Suddenly, theres a shuffling noise behind the counter. You both freeze.

A walker lurched out, dragging itself towards you. Michonne didn’t hesitate. One clean slice, and it collapsed with a thud.

“Way to ruin a moment,” You joke.

“You okay?” she asked. You exhaled slowly, the tension leaving your shoulders.

“Im okay, thanks for that.”

“Let’s get out of here,” she said softly.

You smiled. “Yeah.”

Ive noticed there is a shortage of michonne fics. I have searched the backrooms of tumblr and NOTHING. NADA. we should all come together and make michonne x reader a new viral fanfic trend bc I am HUNGRY for it. Thanks for coming to my Ted talk. - Kero

[olive-enjoyer]

Five more minutes - abby anderson x reader

The light of dawn spilled through the cracked blinds, painting golden stripes across the bedroom. The room smelled faintly of cedar soap and the leather from Abby’s jacket slung over the chair. It was comforting—it was home.

You felt her first before you saw her - the dip in the mattress, her warm arm draped across your waist, calloused hands drawing circles on your stomach.

“Good morning Abs.” You whisper. “G’morning baby” she mumbles, voice thick with sleep, lips brushing the back of your neck, peppering it with kisses. “We have to get up.”

You groaned, dragging the blanket higher over your head. "No. Five more minutes."

She warmly chucked, you turn around to face Abby. She looks so beautiful with the morning sun shining on her face. She leans down so her forehead is touched yours. “That’s what you said ten minutes ago.”

"Exactly. Time is a construct," you mumbled.

Abby huffed a small laugh, then shifted. Her braid was still a bit messy from sleep, a few strands falling out of place. She looked down at you like you were her entire world.

“You keep saying that, and yet patrol waits for no one.” Her voice was teasing, but her fingers had found your hand under the covers, lacing through gently.

You cracked one eye open. “How about this—I'll get up if you make breakfast.”

She leaned in, placing a sweet kiss on your lips, soft and unhurried. “Deal,” she murmured. You grinned, finally sitting up.

With Abby, even the early mornings were worth it.

Hi chat! This is the first ever fanfic/drabble ive ever written so thank you so so much for supporting me! Hope you enjoyed ☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️💕💕💕💕 - Kero