#but y’all I am so… enamored.

[dragon-huntress]

.

[mycological-mariner]

2nd night watching Poldark and 1) they’ve mentioned the riots and they’re showing the unrest, I just really hope they don’t bungle it. Like, somehow the Poldark Mine is the only sustainable one or something and all the miners love their work so much, that kind of story, ya know? I don’t think they will because that would be ridiculously dishonest and I’ll just be pissed off. Also, once it starts moving along, I REALLY REALLY hope they make mention of the St. Just Liberty Tree and the taking in of French refugees and giving them English names and suchlike so they’re not deported. Also there was a lighthouse in one shot and I had to look it up because I could’ve SWORN it wasn’t built (at least not to that shape and height) until much later on. That’s just me being nit picky though

2) Verity continues to be my fave and by god do I want her to just snap and break her brother’s nose or something.

Honourable mention goes to the physician friend because finally the show mentioned in passing mine illnesses (that’s it’s whole other post though I’m already in my wormhole)

[volodei]

if anybody asks where i find the motivation to keep drawing

[tvrningout-a]

i got to finally meet my friends’ baby and i :’ )))) he’s such a cute lil stinker and i am simply smitten 💜

[6esiree]

“𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.”

Just imagining this had me on my knees.

*cracks knuckles*

"This." | Alastor x Reader, First Kiss

Summary: You convince your new(ish) partner, Alastor, to give kissing a try.

Warnings: None apart from the tiniest mention of a bloody lip. Just fluff that gets a little steamy at the end.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: Dedicated to @6esiree, her follower celebration challenge, and all the scrumptious stories she's crafted for us. x

It had taken a little convincing on your part. After all, the idea of kissing wasn't romantic or enticing to everyone. In fact, when you broke down the actual mechanics of the thing, you had to agree that it was a bit bizarre.

In the end though, he'd agreed to humor you. At least that's what he'd said. But you could see it in your partner's eyes—he was curious.

And now you were sitting cross-legged on the Radio Demon's bed—a bed he'd only procured after you'd started seeing each other and his lone option to (politely) cohabitate with you came in the form of your suite, which had several tenants in the form of void-staring Squishmallows. Especially considering he often preferred to stay up and read while you slept, it was the one scenario in which he preferred not to have an audience.

The Radio Demon, himself, sat across from you, subconsciously mirroring your body language and awaiting your next move.

You couldn't help but think, as you studied him both recreationally and to look for any indications of discomfort, that your journey to this point had been almost comical in its unlikelihood.

At the base level, it made very little sense. After all, you were more like Vox in a lot of ways than you were like Alastor—tech-savvy, excited about new gadgets and caught up on the latest memes, and absolutely rife with Gen. Z slang. Angel had been certain after you'd arrived at the hotel and stuck around long enough to make a few friends that the second Alastor realized he not only wouldn't get your soul from you, but he'd also have to deal with your shenanigans on top of everyone else's, he might decide you'd look better flambéd with a side of rice.

He hadn't thought that though, apparently. And you'd absolutely annoyed each other at first, mostly for a misfire in communication due to your highly conflicting eras and expectations, but he'd admitted to you much later—after a courting proposal he'd had planned to the letter had still gone sideways anyway, again because of you (allegedly)—that this wasn't completely true. He found you annoying, yes—which was fine because he annoyed you sometimes, too—but part of that annoyance came from how utterly fascinating he found you, too.

Alastor, at his core, didn't subscribe to the idea that vulnerability was worth a damn in the grand scheme of things. He liked it in others—subservience from the masses and warm pink blushes from you—but he expected more from himself. Vulnerability equated to weakness and that was something no overlord could afford in his mind. So his immediate response to feeling anything on the softer side for you had at first been met with utmost resistance.

He'd tried ignoring you. Not only was he miserable for the duration of that due to missing you—a realization the Doomsday District had subsequently suffered for—but you drove him up the walls when your initial hurt at being shunned turned to unbridled annoyance and an ever-increasing demand for an explanation.

He'd tried "friendzoning" you. That had initially worked and then royally pissed you off when he used the actual term he'd apparently learned from Rosie a long time ago. You'd informed him with bared fangs and gusto that your friendship was not and never would be a consolation prize and stormed off to your suite. Then you'd ignored him—for four days precisely. When you'd finally given him the time of day, he'd shown up with an armful of apology gifts and a wobbly smile he'd never admitted to wearing since.

And then he'd just spent the next leg of knowing you very confused about why nothing he'd tried had worked and why you being upset with him upended his world so completely. You'd caught him lurking at the edge of gatherings, fully honed in on you with an intensity that felt like he might be dissecting you with his eyes. You'd thought he'd found another reason to be angry at you until he'd approached you a week later and admitted the complete opposite.

That, loath as he was to admit it, he was drawn to you and it was doing neither of you any favors for him to keep lying to himself.

And you'd realized in that moment, too, that part of why his "rejections" had made you so angry were because…well, you liked him, too.

Because, for as haughty and selfish as he was, he also took great pains to go out of his way for you. He looked at you like you were the only person in the room regardless of whether it was actually true. He was timeless in his strange, enigmatic way that was so very much, innately him. A way you'd come to like quite a lot. The bigger L-word was on the horizon, but you'd shelved that thought whenever it had arisen. Not only were you worried you'd scare him away, but you worried about spooking yourself, too.

Your focus pivoted as one of Alastor's ears flicked back, a silent subconscious display of his nerves. He was still watching you, measuring you with a look that managed to show his age and still look boyish simultaneously. His crimson eyes were open, flickering over your face with unease hidden behind a thin smile. When your pensive expression faltered into something affectionate, he huffed a little breath out that made his shoulders relax just the slightest bit.

"Well, dear?" Alastor wondered. His tone was just shy of a purr and you had a feeling he was trying to put up a bit more bravado than he currently felt in the face of something he wasn't as versed in. "You seemed quite intent earlier on getting me alone. Where's your moxie gone?"

"It's still around," you laughed. "Just a little nervous."

He blinked owlishly—these more vulnerable expressions were possibly the ones on him that you adored the most. The youth it smoothed over his sharp features almost made it possible to see what he'd looked like while alive. You would've never met him in life—decades on decades had ensured your separation—but it was a nice thought.

It would've had to have been in your time though. Even though he would've been miserable amidst all the swanky new tech (at least until you talked him into trying a podcast probably), you would've been more miserable trying to acclimate to the mold women were expected to fit in his era. You'd asked him once why he liked you, given just how different you were from what he'd likely grown up with, and after he'd finished laughing at your question, he'd just dropped a chaste kiss to your cheek and said he'd never been partial to dolls and found your spark far more entertaining.

"You are nervous?" Alastor asked, his smile wavering just slightly as he tilted his head. "What ever for?"

"Well, sweetheart, it's been a minute for me, too," you said with a helpless little shrug that made his features soften even as his frame seemed to tense again. "And, well, after asking you to humor me, I'd hate to mess it up."

Alastor scoffed a little and wordlessly turned one of his large, spidery hands palm-up to offer to you. Without hesitation, you took it in both of yours, running the pads of your fingertips over the ashen grooves and sharp points of his knuckles. You both watched your hands traverse his for a moment before he spoke again.

"…I must admit I wouldn't know if you did, cher."

It was your turn to look surprised. "If I did, what?" you asked, wondering if you'd been that distracted just by the opportunity to touch his hand or if there was something you'd yet to learn about him.

"If you…'messed up'," he said, borrowing your slang. The stiff, experimental way he said it made a bloom of warmth expand in your chest. How was such a feral, sadistic sort of demon so unbearably cute sometimes? You'd hardly wondered the question before his ears slowly swiveled to flatten against his hair, his smile wobbling again as he rolled his eyes away and sighed. "I expect, given our newfound partnership, I can anticipate a layer of confidentiality here tonight?"

You frowned. "If you're asking if you can trust me, the answer's yes," you murmured, mirroring his head's tilt with yours. "Is everything okay?"

Alastor smiled genuinely and gave your hand a light pat. "Just fine, darling," he said and you noticed his face looked a little flushed.

Had you ever seen him blush? God help you, now that you knew it was possible, you wanted to create that crimson hue on his cheeks as often as possible, he was precious!

"This is a first for me," Alastor finally said, sounding like he'd half-blurted it out just to get past his own pride or anxiety.

"Can you, uh, be a little more specific?" you asked, not wanting to embarrass him, but wanting to know what exactly he meant in case it changed your approach. You gently stroked his hand, hoping it came across as a soothing gesture. He could get grumpy in moments like this, taking comfort as coddling and acting all the more irritable for it after. "I'm just worried about overstepping, I'm not trying to wring anything out of you."

Alastor chuckled and shook his head. "No need to overexplain, dearest. I appreciate the attention to detail," he admitted, still choosing to stare down at your hands or the baseboard off to the side rather than meet your eyes. His ears hadn't yet lifted from their station against his head. "…Kissing. At least lips-to-lips. I never cared for the idea—I'm still not entirely sure I do now—and so I never entertained the practice."

You felt both blessed and terrified at once as you asked, "…You've never kissed anyone?"

Alastor's lip curled a little at your shock. "Please do refrain from making a scene over this," he requested with an exasperated huff.

"We don't have to try this, Al," you hastened to tell him, your fingers tightening around his hand but still leaving him room to pull away if he wanted to. He seemed to notice and the snarl in his smile smoothed away with a silent bit of gratitude. "If you're not interested, it's totally fine."

He gave you a skeptical look. "And you would simply abide by never kissing your beloved?" he asked, not sounding like he believed it a bit. "By feeling as though your partner does not want you?"

You pursed your lips—well, it stung a little when he put it like that, but that wasn't where your mind had gone. "Quit putting someone else's words in my mouth," you mumbled and that put a dash of chagrin on the Radio Demon's pinched expression. "I come from a much more flexible time than you do when it comes to this stuff. I knew you were ace before any of this, even before we became friends—"

"What now?"

You couldn't help a fond, breathy laugh. "Ace. Asexual," you elaborated. "Generally uninterested in sexual stuff, or at least not interested in the way most people are. It's normal. There's nothing wrong with that."

Alastor's ears flicked uncertainly. "I'm afraid I've garnered a much different perspective all these years," he said. "Which was perfectly fine until…well."

"It's still fine as long as we're happy," you said. "That's all there is to it."

"It sounds much easier than society made it seem in my lifetime," Alastor sighed, giving your hand another couple of pats. A silent thanks. His eyes narrowed an increment as he, at last, met your eyes again. There was no mistaking the warmth their vermillion glow sent through you. He studied you, that curiosity lingering, as he murmured, "I would still like to try. For you, dear."

You smiled. "Thanks," you said softly. "Just…no pressure, okay? We never have to do it again if you hate it or for any longer than you want to. I promise, now that I know to prepare myself, I won't be offended or hurt if you decide you don't like it."

That seemed to be the root of his unease and it made your heart give a squeeze. Evil as he liked to think he was and, in fairness, was to most, he had a soft spot for you. One you relished curling up in. One that already felt like home.

"This…stays between us regardless, yes?" Alastor murmured. "Not that it particularly matters in the grand scheme of things, but I have a grave feeling that this is something that idiotic picture box would never let go if he caught wind of it. I loathe the idea of simply offering ammunition on a platter."

"It stays right here," you promised. "Just with us."

Alastor hummed his approval and adjusted his sitting position on the mattress. "Lovely. Now…how do we go about this?" he asked, businesslike in a way that was almost comical. It was all you could do not to laugh lest he take it the wrong way in this moment where he didn't have the upper hand.

And, to be honest, his question was valid even if it did seem a bit silly. You'd never done this with someone before. Teaching someone how to kiss felt like such a momentous occasion. What if you were a bad kisser and you'd just never known because what was the gold standard for kissing?! Of course there were do's and don't's and cardinal sins, but…what made a kiss good?

You weren't sure, but you wanted his first one to be good. Perfect even, if you could manage it.

"Well," you said thoughtfully, giving your lips a nervous lick. You blushed when you saw his eyes drop down and follow the pink tip of your tongue along the seam of your mouth. You had his attention at least. "You've kissed my cheek. You can kiss someone's lips that way too. So let's just start with that."

Alastor's ears finally perked back up. "Simple enough!" he declared, seeming pleased that he wasn't being offered the deep end before being sure he could swim. "Well then…shall we?"

You smirked and shuffled a little closer, giving his hand a squeeze before letting it go to cautiously cup his cheeks. "Remember…at any point, if you want to stop—"

"I will say something, my dear," Alastor said, his ears flicking back again as his confidence faltered anew. "Or tap your arm a few times perhaps if you've got me in too tight a chokehold."

You laughed. "I'm not going to stick my tongue down your throat, for fuck's sake," you griped through a series of giggles.

"Language," Alastor scolded you despite chuckling a bit, himself.

In part to shut him up now, you closed the gap between your lips—mindful and slow, you kept to your original suggestion and simply pressed a polite, succinct peck against his still-smiling mouth. Afterward, you drew back just a little to get a read on your partner, finding his cheeks a little redder than before. And his eyes, uh, a bit wide.

"You okay?" you asked.

"I am," Alastor said, seeming a little surprised at the fact. "Why, that was hardly unpleasant at all!"

You snorted. "Hardly unpleasant… I can work with that, I guess," you mused.

He tsked at you and rested his hands against yours, which were still cradling his face. "You know very well that isn't how I meant it," he chided you. "It was pleasant. Unexpectedly so."

"Well, good!" you said, pleased he'd found it nice. "I'm glad. Did you want to keep it just at that?"

Alastor contemplated you for a moment or so and then contemplated your lips specifically—your face heated as he subconsciously wet his own.

"I could perhaps be a bit adventurous… If you're up for the task," he suggested, that curiosity lingering and shifting into something a little darker, it appeared. Wishful thinking maybe, on your part.

"I could be," you flirted back, pondering your options before suggesting, "I'll…well, I guess I'll just go until we stop—either because you tell me to or…whatever. Okay?"

Alastor shifted a little as he said, "Very well. On this particular dancefloor, darling, I follow your lead."

You couldn't help but tease him a little.

"You're a very cute old man, you know," you informed him. And, right as he was about to fire back, you slotted your lips against his, effectively finding the one way you'd encountered thus far to silence the Radio Demon.

You couldn't help a slight giggle when you heard the vinyl screech of a stalled record erupt from the air around you or possibly from his microphone propped up against the bedpost. Keeping to your word, you went slow, starting with a gentle brushing motion before offering a touch more guidance as you increased the pressure and friction by a hair.

Alastor was following, clumsily, but seemed to get his bearings little by little as you took the two of you through this ritual the way he'd once guided you both through your first waltz. You demonstrated the little nuances you'd learned in life as you went—the interval opportunities for breathing, the different sensations of brushing vs. sliding through a liplock, and where hands could rest unobtrusively when kissing was the sole activity in the cards for the evening.

Yours had remained cupping Alastor's cheeks and his had slid down from covering your fingers to loosely encircling your wrists. You'd assumed he'd left them there to free himself once he'd had enough—the way his quiet, ambient static had climbed to white noise around you had made you think he was nearing his limit—but he had yet to pull away or signal that he was done.

In fact, unless you were mistaking his body language through the hazy, dopamine-riddled fog you existed in now, he seemed ever more interested in continuing rather than stopping.

Alastor, more confident with the cadence of the kisses you shared and the way he could best move his mouth to match yours, nosed in closer when you started to lean back, thinking you were doing him a favor by allowing him some room. A disgruntled sound rumbled in the base of his throat when his nose bumped into yours, something you thought was cute but he was currently viewing as either a failure or an obstacle to what he wanted.

You smiled against his lips and used the cradle of your fingers against his cheekbones to gently angle his head—you tilted yours in kind to afford him the closeness he was after. Alastor gave a soft hum of approval as he nuzzled in again, successfully this time, and ran his hands down your forearms as the pads of his thumbs—with claws carefully angled away—skimmed the soft, delicate skin of your wrists all the way down.

Experimentally, you chanced a gentle suck against his lower lip and the cross between a low groan and a bleat that he allowed you to swallow between kisses made you shiver with delight.

It caused a reaction in him, too, apparently. In seconds, your world had tilted a full 90 degrees and you were on your back, soft scarlet quilts beneath you and enamored, lovedrunk Radio Demon on top of you.

There was no slow-and-steady now, not now that he had the idea of what he was meant to do and found himself comfortably, securely lost in your mouth, your softness, your scent. For Alastor, kissing someone on the lips had always been an alien, strange, unwelcome sort of act—no longer. Now he could only wonder how else he could get even closer to you, how completely he could be engulfed in the feelings you stirred in him when you were alone together and the Hells outside his door—your door now, too—ceased to exist until morning.

He couldn't even find it in himself to be embarrassed about the little cervine sound that had bubbled up from his throat when you'd so innocently yet salaciously tugged at his lower lip. That was filed away for another time, for now all that mattered was you.

You'd since lost your composure under the heat of his full attention. Your fingertips had traversed past the sharp lines of his cheeks toward his hair, gently tangling in the crimson and black-tipped locks that hung in short curtains around his face as he bowed over you, consuming you more surely and more thoroughly all the time.

Overzealous, he briefly and only once caught your lip with the edge of one of his lethal teeth—he'd lapped the bead of blood away, mumbled an apology, and proceeded to kiss you through the clotting, enjoying his taste of your essence without causing you any extra, undue discomfort.

When finally you had to break for air, you filled your lungs and looked up at Alastor, admiring the sparkle in his eyes and the disheveled state of his usually pristine appearance. Again you thought you were glimpsing not just the buck you'd fallen for, but the man he'd been long before you'd ever existed. You smiled—who would've thought you could feel lucky to be dead?

"Safe to say it's not so bad?" you asked, smirking a little when you heard how breathless your own voice sounded.

Alastor chuckled and straightened, plucking you up from the bed and bringing you with him. "Yes, indeedy, darling," he admitted, kissing your cheek as he admired your plush, kiss-bruised lips. He tutted a little at the tiny split he'd caused but seemed to take it in stride. "Was it… Was I alright for you as well?"

Your expression softened. "You always are," you murmured, tilting your head back to kiss the tip of his nose. "But yes. You're a very quick study."

You felt his chest puff with pride. "Why, of course!" he boasted with a haughty chuckle, back to the Radio Demon you knew (and loved). "Certainly couldn't be too hard a thing to learn, after all—the rabble and then some have seemed to figure it out just fine."

Expecting him to humble-brag you into oblivion, you simply let him marinate in his success—at least until he surprised you yet again. It seemed to be something he was inclined to do often and you couldn't complain. Especially when his surprises tended to, for you, border on a saccharine sort of sweet. Not that he'd ever admit to it.

Alastor smiled warmly down at you and bravely leaned in to press another, shorter kiss to your lips. "Thank you, ma cher."

You blinked. "What for?"

He hummed in consideration before murmuring simply, "This."

A look into his eyes told you that "this," wasn't simply a kiss or a conversation or any particular moment in isolation. It was all of those things though, all at once. The smile you shared was part of it, too.

And the countless tender moments that hadn't happened yet would be part of it as well.

[marwhoa]

request: You write the turtles boys so well! I literally can't stop smiling when I read your fics - they're so sweet and endearing. I was wondering, only if it strikes your interest of course, if you'd consider writing about the boys being jealous of each other when the reader spends time with them one on one? Like, maybe a slot for Leo where he thinks reader finds Donnie funnier? Or one for mikey, where he thinks that reader likes how big raph is? Or for raph, where he thinks reader is more enamored with Leo? Or Donnie, where he worries that Mikey is flirting with reader? Of course they're all misunderstandings, and maybe it could end all fluffy with confessions and comforting their respective boy? If not, don't worry, but if so, thank you! 1 look forward to whatever you put out next.

🝮 “ green with envy ”

rise!boys x y/n

author’s note: screaming profusely !!! eeeee !!! So hey yeah here’s a fic, this took a while because it sat in my notes for days before I finally posted it, my bad. This was kinda hard cause I’m not experienced in the realm of jealousy—hopefully y’all like it? ᗡ: also does envy even fit this scenario? Lmao I just be naming these fics any thing, can y’all tell?

word count: 6.1k

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Leo 💌

Leo never expected he could ever become… jealous, not him—no, no, NEVER him. He had too much pride, too much confidence. There should have never been any room for doubt in his ability to keep you focused and adoring on him, and him alone.

But, perhaps he had given himself too much credit? Or, maybe he had given his twin too little credit.

It wasn’t as though you were his. Just friends, and technically that meant you belonged to the whole family, not just him. But, no one could blame him for coveting you. From how starry-eyed you looked at him to how genuinely you laughed at his jokes, Leo found out too late that he had been falling for you, and here he was still falling. The way your nose crinkled when you laughed, or how your face lit up during Mikey’s dinner times, even down to the wheezing laugh you would give into if he pushed his jokes on too long, all of it spelled out lovely disaster for his heart.

But, fear not, he thought. He was the face man and the funniest turtle, surely there was no competition? No one could be better than him at getting you to make the faces you did.

Or well, it should’ve been no one. He wasn’t even all that funny, but Donnie managed to get you to keel over to some stuff he said—and he didn’t even intend for them to be jokes! A natural comic, can you believe the nerve of this guy?

So, yeah, Leo never expected himself to be jealous, and especially never towards his own brother, but god the way you were showing that tickled-silly expression to Donnie, wiping tears as he confusedly asked what was so funny? It had him gripping the arm of their couch, digging his nails into them. He wasn’t going to take this any longer! Sure Donnie meant no harm and would never try to swoop in and steal the prize he had his eye on, but Leo couldn’t help but still be… aggravated.

The pent-up annoyance was dispelled by the red-slider leaping over the couch, sassily walking over and snaking his arm across your waist.

“ Yeah, whatever, Donnie is sooo funny, but hey, Y/N, let me show you something better! ”

Never mind the fact that he had nothing planned as he twirled his katana in his other hand, slicing the air until a blue portal shimmered into existence. You glanced back and waved good bye to Donnie, fully intrigued by whatever it was Leo wanted to show you.

“ Oh—okay! What is it? ”

“ Who am I to ruin a surprise? ”

He cocked a brow at your question, tugging you through the portal and stepping out into the courtyard of the Witch’s city. While amazed, you wondered just what this had to do with anything—but, of course that was a comment you would keep to yourself until having fully exhausted the excitement of exploring not just any random town, but rather a town of witches!

“ Oh, Leo, finally! I’ve been begging you to bring me here for weeks! ”

Before he could even say anything, you were quickly rushing up to the nearest shop and sparking up conversation. Such a busy bee, but it was just another aspect of you he was captivated by. However, with such an impromptu visit to a rather overwhelming area, he found chances to spark conversation and get you to laugh to be stretched few and far between.

“ Oh wow, this store really doesn’t leave mushroom for walk-through, huh? ”

He gestured to a potions-ingredients shop, which, you guessed it, specialized in all things fungal-based. His shoulders drooped as you continued ahead, not even hearing him. That joke was gold! Huffing, Leo caught up with you and laced his fingers around your wrist, effortlessly stopping you in your tracks.

“ Mm? Leo? ”

You stared up at him with such a look of focus, all your attention finally fully on him, and he had to fight his legs not to reduce to jelly instantly. Instead, he took a deep breath, cocked his head, and insisted you follow him.

Down weaving alleys, through crowds of people, eventually you reached a park unlike any seen on the surface. The paths were lined with thick, luscious plants cultivated through the town’s magic. Foliage swayed with no wind, as though dancing like silk fabric to whatever music only they heard.

Your attention only left the plants when you heard Leo start clearing his throat and then flashing you a look that you recognized all too well. A grin was already tugging at your lips, and Leo finally felt like he was the only one in your world again. His hands held onto his belt and he kicked out his legs, faking as though he were tipping a hat. It seemed like some western cowboy impersonation?

“ What in carnation? ”

There you went, first with a light and short laugh.

“ Well I do say, I took a leaf of faith bringing you here,”

Which then melded into a series, topped with a “ Wait, Leo, hush—please! ”, all stuttered and peppered through your increasing laughter.

“—but, beleaf it or not—“

He wasn’t even able to finish the entire spiel before you were holding onto him, laughing with such a melodious voice. Which, of course, devolved into your trademark wheeze n’snort after dragging on too long.

“ Pwffhaaha!! Leo, wha-what’s with you today? ”

You wiped away a tear, and suddenly Leo was finally brought back to reality. Your hand on his forearm lingered, and he was just completely beside himself with how the glowing willows beside the garden softened your face ever-so-perfectly.

“ Y/N… ”

His voice was so uncharacteristically soft that it had you a tad bit spooked, hand gripping a teensy tighter. Your head cocked slightly in confusion.

“ I.. Ugh, okay, it’s—it’s dumb! But—“

He dragged his hands down his face, groaning exhaustedly.

“ I thought, maybe, you might’ve… Liked Donnie, more than me. ”

“ Huh? Why would you think that, I love all of you guys? ”

“ Yeah, but I love you, and—“

The shock painted on your face had him holding his breath. Alarms went off in his head, telling him he maybe should have held his tongue, not jumped ahead so quickly. The two of you searched each other’s eyes in silence, you recovering from what he said, and him preparing himself for what you would say. Soon enough, your face twisted into a confusion tinged with a bit of playfulness.

“ Wait a second.. You’re jealous, aren’t you? Of Donnie? What for? ”

“ What? What do you mean what for? You, you’ve been laughing at everything he said all day, don’t you think he’s funnier? Don’t you like him more?! ”

If it weren’t his dumb puns and act earlier, it was this that would do you in.

“ Leo, you dummy! Sure I was laughing, but that doesn’t mean I like him more than you, I just, well… ”

It was your turn to be a bit bashful as your eyes looked everywhere except him.

“ I, well.. You’re my favorite, Leo, not Donnie.. ”

As you batted your eyes at him, hoping he would connect the dots thoroughly, your answer was given in the form of his beaming expression as he swept you into his arms, spinning.

“ Ah-hah! So you do like me—and I’m the funnier turtle!? ”

“ Oh no, I shouldn’t have said anything, now you’re too powerful! ”

Playfully you cried, leaning back with your hand dramatically draped across your forehead. Leo chuckled at your antics leaning in to lay his head against your stomach as he tightened his hold firmly.

This was definitely something he would rub in his brother’s face later on—and said brother would be profusely confused by what brought it on???

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Mikey 💌

Mikey was the last turtle you ever considered could suffer from the classic ailment of “ jealousy ”, and you couldn’t help but feel both ashamed yet intrigued.

While you weren’t too sure what it was that had got him so riled up, you were observant enough to see the way his eyes lit up with a startling emotion. At first it was impossible to pinpoint, just a glimpse of something indiscernible yet startling that crept into his blue hues at the oddest of times.

The first time you had seen that frightful emotion peek its head was during a date. The two of you had decided to hit a bar late at night, him donning a cloaking brooch, of course.

When you arrived, the loud music was entrancing, luring you both onto the dance floor to get lost in each other’s arms. The music coiled around you both, closing the gap to a suffocatingly tight end, as if either of you couldn’t stand any sort of distance apart. The floor vibrated, from both the booming speakers and the music reverberating the whole building alongside the dancing bodies around you both.

Mikey beamed with the brightest smile, and you just knew he was laughing, albeit drowned out from the ambiance. You were both having the time of your lives. Absorbed into a bubble fit for only the two of you, eyes locked on each other, neither party was ready for the stranger’s hands that snaked around your waist, pulling you in without any mind paid to you already having a devoted dance partner.

Chills set in and you turned to Mikey instantly, locking eyes, but the look in his eyes was enough to have your voice hitch in your throat.

That night ended with you both getting kicked out after Mikey wailed on the guy, but after a while, you both laughed and talked all about the fight on the way home.

The next time you saw that look was when you were hanging out with Leo while waiting for Mikey to return back from patrol. He had invited you over, and you planned to do it after wrapping up a few things, so he figured he could finish a patrol and be ready for you when you got done.

Unfortunately for him, you happened to finish your escapade much too early, and thus were at the lair awaiting his return. Leo happened to pass by, so you roped him into a conversation to bide the time. When Mikey did eventually come home, he stepped in to see you nearly keeled over in laughter.

You had been laughing so hard that when you noticed Mikey, you gave a weak wave and continued dying. He was curious what the joke was, but Leo simply shook his head and left, his own laugh dwindling down the hall. Once you recovered and were on your feet, you caught that same scary emotion swirling in his eyes. He tightened his lips and only softened when he turned to you.

More and more questions arose as you came to experience this look time and time again in all kinds of situations, but the one that finally made all the clicks pop into place was his outburst after you were with Raph.

He had been taking care of some villains on patrol with Mikey when you had ended up in the wrong place, wrong time. Their battle had turned to a violent one, with the villain bashed straight into a wall. Debris crumbled down right as you turned the corner, eyes shooting up to see parts of the building falling towards you. There was no time to move, so you just closed your eyes shut right and braced yourself.

But, no pain ever came, just a bit of dust. You opened your eyes, seeing a huge shadow casted over your body, and when you looked up?

It was Raph, who blocked the falling debris with his mighty shell.

“ Raph! “

You yelped, heart thundering in your chest, and Mikey misunderstood the shimmer in your eyes as Raph rose to full height, throwing the concrete off and away. He misinterpreted why you hugged him so tightly when he scooped you up, taking you away from the damage and ushering you to run the other way.

When you’re focusing on the wrong things, it’s easy to get the signs wrong, and boy had the ache in Mikey’s heart got everything so totally wrong. You liked Raph, didn’t you? Why else would you look at him like that? Did you like it when folks were bigger than you, unlike him who simply had an inch or two on you?

How could he be so stupid?

So, that’s how you ended up where you were now, seconds from entering your apartment when Mikey met you with a sour look on his face. You noticed that same glint in his eyes, still trying to piece together what it meant.

“ Why didn’t you tell me? ”

His voice wavered, and you responded with a hum of confusion. Inviting him in, he closed the door behind you both. His lips tugged down as he searched everywhere for the words to say. Finally, he found them and settled back on you as you were putting things down and unwinding.

“ With Raph! You like him, don’t you?! ”

“ Wha? ”

“ You—You! ”

He seemed frustrated, wracking his brain until finally he threw his hands out and shouted.

“ DO YOU LOVE RAPH MORE BECAUSE HE’S SO BIG?! ”

Silence blanketed you both as you processed his words. Finally, you placed a word on the emotion you always saw in his eyes. Struggling not to laugh at the absurdity, you snorted and shook your head.

“ Jealousy! That’s wh—wait, no, Mikey, no, I don’t ‘Love Raph cause he’s big’ ”

“ Then why do you like him more!? ”

“ Where is this coming from, Mikey, I don’t like Raph like that—I like you. ”

You stepped closer, and Mikey let you in. Your hands reached up, cupping his cheeks, and he leaned into them with such a desperation that you felt bad for finding this whole situation so silly.

“ Just, you always seem so happy when he’s around, and whenever he saves you instead, you always.. ”

His eyes were elsewhere as he spoke, almost as though he were seeing the absurdity in it all now with a clearer mind.

“ Ahh, mhmm, yup, alright so Mikey usually people are very happy when they’re saved from danger—and I mean, I probably look happy cause I’m friends with him too, but I’m dating you, silly. ”

You booped his snoot, smiling as his eyes lit up with the love you were accustomed to seeing them full of.

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Raph 💌

If there was any one of the brothers full of insecurities, it would come as no surprise as the spotlight shone upon the red turtle, atop the winner’s pedestal. As someone who once led his brothers in the face of battle, who grew up with the elder sibling curse of forced parenthood, it came as no shock that there were a couple of problems sprinkled into his character.

While he had spent much of his life up to this point recovering and healing from what dared chip at his exterior, there was more than a few bits of stubborn grime that lingered on his surface. It ate away at him, leaving behind vulnerabilities.

Then you came along, and throughout the honeymoon period he experienced nothing but delights. Never had the negative Nancy in his brain perked up to talk her shit, misleading him in circles until he was a mess of unbundled, tangled up rope.

You were a light, something that seemed to power wash the grime away, cake over it with your delicate touch and sweet words. Much smaller than he, you were probably one of the kindest humans he met, someone he cherished more than life itself.

And that, in and of itself, was a vulnerability. You were his weakness, and the shrewd dark spots in his brain couldn’t wait for the rose-colored glass to shatter and let them sink their teeth into this beauteous opportunity.

The sensible part of him knew your kindness knew no ends, that it wasn’t limited or excluded to simply him or a select few. In fact, your sweet demeanor shared with his brothers? It was a breath of relief—it was an understatement to say he had been nervous to introduce you to the family. You were okay with him because he saved you, but his brothers and father weren’t present. They hadn’t been the heroes slamming down against concrete, scaring away the silverfish that preyed upon you one fateful night.

Turns out the trash-eaters had a hankering for good food, and you, all alone, on your way back home with a doggy-bag from Cleo’s Beach Shack, served to be the perfect target.

The night had been quiet, albeit suspiciously so, but your full tummy and weary limbs had their guard fully down. You daydreamed of the bed awaiting you at home, arms beckoning you forth with pillowy softness.

That delightful image was disturbed by the sudden rustling and clank you heard from behind. Turning, your eyes shooed away dreamland and were alert. An empty can rolled from a bush, tinking into someone’s trash can at the curb. Not a soul in sight, so surely it must have been one of New York’s infamous rats? Y’know, that creature that is practically extinct in this city, like there’s no way you would ever see them—definitely not at the metro nor the coffee shop, and surely never this residential street with primo rat hot-spots such as unsupervised trash cans full of food waste.

Yeah, of course, must have been a rat. You’re so paranoid, just hurry on home, nothing bad will happen. Nothing bad ever happens to pretty little guys like you, alone on dimly lit streets, lined with houses whose doors are locked to high hell.

Nothing bad, especially not like the cold metal that clamped firmly on your ankle. Never anything as worse as the chilling growl from whatever tripped you up, glaring with red eyes and flicking a long, sharp-looking tail.

“ Oh sh—“

Your voice feebly complained, raising into a scream to the heavens above as it lunged towards you.

Or well, towards your to-go bag, but who’s paying attention to the little things like that when your life is flashing before your eyes?

Thankfully, the end never came. There was the sound of a growling struggle after a tremor shook your shivering frame, and as you opened your eyes to peek at whatever held up your attacker, a silhouette towered over you. He casted a long shadow over you, which should have been intimidating as hell, but instead it left you feeling…

Safer?

In his hand laid two identical buggers, squirming and chomping with animalistic hunger. This had to have been worse than the rats, you’d take the rats any day, at least they weren’t massive.

… well okay, they are, but this is a whole ‘nother level.

The most shocking part was this giant hero taking a step back, assuming the position of a pitcher, and launching the creatures into the distance. There may have been a glint shining, and was that the cheer of an audience you were hearing? No, that was your imagination, obviously.

But you were not imagining this guy in front of you. Much too tall to be human, unless it was some basketball lead who somehow had balls of steel to save a stranger.

Every warning sign imaginable was washed away without a trace as your savior turned around and shot a shaky smile, warm as a summer sun.

“ S-Sorry about that, are ya okay? ”

He spoke with the timidness of someone a fourth his size, and you couldn’t help but be completely charmed to death.

From that day you would see him more and more, to the point that it felt as if maybe he had been appointed your personal body guard. Ah, but, you didn’t really mind, did you? You loved his company and his toothy grins. You adored his warm, gentle hugs, and it was too sweet how you could feel his hands tremble as they held yours ever so delicately.

So yeah, he worried to introduce you to his family, but the way you brightened up the room instantly had him starstruck. You’re perfect, that’s it. That’s the tweet.

The rosey glass shattered after a few lingering months of dating. His insecurities reared their heads, resting sharp grips on his shoulders as they whispered in his ears all kinds of falsities. You liked his brothers, but maybe you liked his brothers? Why else would you be so nice to them?

And, maybe that’s why you were smiling at Leo like that? Raph is right here, so why were you talking to his brother? He couldn’t even focus enough to heard you both holding the most mundane conversation ever about some shop that opened up over on Moore’s. He steeped in the tea of jealousy, filling his senses to the brim with worry.

The worst part about it was that if you liked Leo, he couldn’t even blame you. Leo was like water, while Raph was stone. Raph stood still, he could be bossy at times, while Leo was a spunky little river that would keep you on your toes. Leo was never boring, and he could keep a smile on your face for as long as the day lasted..

But he didn’t want any of that to be true. None of it.

The conversation was stopped by a meek voice asking for your time, attention shifting from Brother Blue to your beloved, clad in what became your favorite color in these past few months.

“ Y/N, can we talk? ”

Ignoring Leo’s nudge and teasing “ ooooooohs ”, you nodded with a smile, following Raph with a pep in your step.

“ Of course, dear. ”

That lead to the silence you currently shared—with him leaning against the wall of his room, gaze fixated on some smudges on the floor. That should be cleaned up, he thought, trying to not think of how you were sat on his bed, awaiting whatever it was he needed off his chest.

“ Raph? ”

You were the first to talk, already well acquainted with your love’s tiptoeing when it came to any sort of conversation that might be unsavory. You watched as he twisted his expression, tightening his lips—whatever it was, it was bothering him profusely, and you couldn’t help the pang gripping your heart..

“ Raph…? ”

Again, your voice seemed weaker this time. That was what gave him the drive to speak, he couldn’t handle leaving you in such a state, he needed to know if these worries of his were dumb!

“ Do you like Leo? ”

“ What. ”

Your response was so fast and curt, the product of being completely taken off guard with a left hook. There were plenty of other ideas you had for the direction of this conversation, such as having beaten his leftovers last week or how you have his favorite hoodie in your laundry basket right now. Maybe even the secret trips to Donnie’s, who was currently helping you get together a gift for Raph’s birthday next month. A particularly low worry even fretted that this might be a conversation about your relationship and how it should end.

But, instead it’s about Leo? What an easy question to answer!

“ Sorry, I didn’t mean that, I mean to say no. ”

Raph’s shoulders loosened and a breath of relief slipped out of him—when had he even started holding his breath?? Never mind that. You snorted at the absurd thought of liking Leo of all people.

“ Why would I like Leo? Raph, c’mere. ”

You held your hands out, and the way his hands fell into yours spelled out a desperation to be close to you. With a gentle tug, he climbed onto his bed, and you melted into his chest. A storm was brewing in his chest, his heart thundering nervously.

“ Ya just, Raph don’t know, something—he, just… Raph was worried, s’all. Afraid ya preferred him over a… ”

While he was searching for whatever word to insult himself with, you captured his attention with a gentle peck on the lips. Your fingers gently held his chin, turning his focus to lay fully on you.

“ Over a charming, handsome hero? ”

There was that adorable smile, peppering his lips as a light laugh erupted from his chest.

“ You think I’d prefer Leo, who is a risky little ticking time bomb, over my knight in shining armor? ”

He whispered a rebuttal, something along the lines of “ he really is, huh? ”

“ Oh Raph-a-doodle, never could I want anyone other than you. ”

Leaning up, you pressed your forehead against his and gazed into his eyes. They searched yours for a hint of deceit, for anything to latch onto and spiral about, but all he found was warmth.

Thus, the jealousy flame died out, and he plummeted backwards against his bed, dragging you down with him. He gave a heavy exhale as you giggled atop his plastron, scolding him for being so silly.

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Donnie 💌

The green of jealousy was a hue you never expected to be painted across the purple canvas you called your boyfriend, but surely there is a chance for any reality to blossom true, right?

Jealousy had sewn seeds far before either of you could catch on, oblivious to the roots which spiraled and narrowed vision to see only one option as opposed to the myriad of other reasonings. You had poured love into your dearest Donnie, so much so that you couldn’t even fathom any room for jealousy. How could he ever be jealous? Surely he knows full and well just how you look at him? Obviously he knows just how only he can pluck the strings of your heart, strumming love with each touch, in a way unlike any other.

Why, if you were Excalibur, then he was your King Arthur.

So, yeah, may the gods above forgive you for not considering a jealous Donnie as a reality to worry about—though, is it really too worrying? Your boyfriend being jealous? Kind of interesting, doesn’t it just trip up your heart into a flurry of skips?

No? Just me?

Anyways, you had missed entirely the shifting of his gaze when Mikey would enter the room. The low growl, the holding of his breath, none of it had appeared in your mind as you laughed along with whatever silly antics the youngest brother would get up to. Sometimes you would even entertain him! I mean, he is your boyfriend’s little brother, so it’s only right that you laugh at his jokes, get along with him, and all that good stuff.

But, jealousy was the type to hold someone still, to draw their gaze upon one stiff perspective and allow no other reasoning. For a man of science, even he was not above the laws of insecurity in relationships, so when he saw how bouncy his brother was around you, never did he contemplate the obvious. Nary a thought shall he consider that it was simply his brother getting along with his brother’s girlfriend, nor did he consider maybe you were being nice. No, the sour, bitter green dipped his head in the nastiness of jealousy, and all he could consider in this moment was that you must have liked his brother more.

Or maybe, his brother liked you and intended to steal you away? Why else would you laugh so heartily at whatever nonsense his brother spouted? Whatever reason was there for the times he would find you in the kitchen, fixing up dinner alongside Mikey? What else could explain you returning home with topside art supplies and personalized tips to his youngest brother?

Obviously the jealous mind of Donatello Hamato was going to omit one important factor: you did this with all his brothers. If they told a good joke, you would laugh. If Mikey made dinner, you were guaranteed to be in the kitchen helping by fixing you and Donnie’s plates to your liking. If there was something on the surface any of the brothers needed, you would totally put it on your errand run, delivering it during your next visit.

But, jealousy cares not for easy explanations. It craves the most dramatic interpretations, and in this case?

The juiciest interpretation was that Mikey had set his eyes on you, Donnie’s prized lover, and you had fallen for him hook, line, and sinker.

No, no, no, Donnie says, not on his watch would he let you be swept off your feet by anyone else.

“ Y/N. ”

Donnie leaned forward, fingers firmly locking with yours and giving an urgent tug. There was a thickness layered in his eyes that left Mikey shrinking away, confused as to what he could’ve done wrong.

“ Let’s go,”

Straightening up, he couldn’t help the grin widening on his face in a “ I’ve won ” type of manner. You simply waved to his brother.

“ You haven’t forgotten why you’re here, have you? ”

The look in his eyes caused your heart to skip, unprepared for such a heavy gaze that you hadn’t yet experienced. A nervous smile rose on your expression as you looked anywhere but the face giving you a look that would serve to make you fall even harder.

“ Of course not, Dee. ”

Donnie noted your refusal to eye contact, and instead of assuming it was one of your usual bashful moments caused by yours truly, his thoughts were plagued with theories of Mikey somehow worming his way into the heart Donnie swore was his.

“ Right. ”

He muttered in a curt fashion, leading you both to his lab.

The uncomfortable awkwardness blanketing the atmosphere had not gone unnoticed as you followed him, thumb stroking loving little hearts upon the upside of his palm. Usually he would meet this with a firm squeeze, but you could recognize when your genius had his mind up in the clouds. He wasn’t even paying attention to you, was he?! And to think you came all this way to entertain his experiments, hoping to get a kiss or two, only to be met with unnecessary coldness?

What the heck, man?

“ Prepare to behold the wondrous creations of the genius, Donatello. ”

Whatever stink he had been brewing in just seconds prior had evaporated as he unveiled his newest creation: an air-fryer that could quite literally create anything from thin air.

You tried to ignore the distant shout of the youngest brother, something along the lines of “ Hey! Where’s the air-fryer?! ”

Donnie had not ignored it, nor had he dismissed the stifled laughter from you that he surely knew the cause of. His hands clenched, wrapping into crossed arms as he leaned his weight into the table.

“ Annoyed sigh. ”

While rolling his eyes, he muttered an annotation to the peeved groan slipping his lips. There it was again, you noted with a narrowed gaze, that odd discontentment he’d been soaking in this night.

“ Alright, spill it. ”

You mirrored his lean, relying on one of the structural pillars in his lab to hold your weight. Your fingers thumped impatiently against your bicep as your eyes soaked in Donnie’s body language. He seemed to stiffen, either nervously or defensively, you didn’t know.

“ Spill what? ”

He spoke with such an accusatory tone that you were almost ticked off. You held your tongue, hoping to keep this civil and not devolving into mindless argument.

“ Spill wh—?! ”

Sputtering, your hands gestured wildly before quite literally framing him. He knew what you meant, he wasn’t dumb!

“ Whatever is making you so, so—so THIS! ”

His brow raised, and he almost seemed insulted as you threw your hands up with a frustrated growl.

“ Why are you so upset with me right now? What did I do? ”

That seemed to do the charm of dragging out what you’ve been looking for, the explanation, as he straightened his posture and pushed off the table.

“ Oh save me the innocent act, Y/N,”

Confusion painted your face, and for a moment he physically faltered, unsure to continue after such a clear display of hurt across your pretty face. After a second, his mouth tugged into a frown, shaking off the hesitation to continue his claim,

“ I know you like Mikey, so just do us both a favor and go scurry along after him. ”

Donnie waved his hand off, pointing to the door. Whatever look you had on your face at that moment must have embodied just how deeply the pain in your heart crawled, right on down to your very core, because he seemed to balk at his own words. A bit of regret wrapped around him as he muttered something too low for you to hear.

Tightening your lips, you straightened this time and took a few steps to close the gap between you and him.

“ You will not talk to me like that, and what’s this about me liking Mikey? Your little brother? ME? You think I like him?! ”

There was no way, right? He couldn’t be serious? You, liking Mi—he might as well have been your brother too! You could never like him over Donnie?! What an outrageous claim, you thought, standing your ground in front of Donnie. This could have been avoided if he had just not been such, such a…

“ Obviously! Why else would you be bringing him gifts and helping him out in the kitchen? ”

You opened your mouth to speak, only to be interrupted as he continued with an accusatory finger pointing no where specific.

“ And I’ll have you know that I have read about ‘Cooking together’ and I know how much of an intimate bonding experience it is! ”

The childish stomp he gave, throwing his fists against his sides stiffly, served to diminish almost all the frustration bubbling up. You snorted at the sight, causing him to loosen up, confusedly tripping over his words to sputter out a “ Wh-What, what is this, what’s so funny? ”

“ … You’re a riot, Dee. ”

Wiping away the tiny tears pricking from such a hearty laugh, your eyes met his with less of anger and more of the warmth he was far too familiar of.

“ Since apparently I’m the only one of us with some sense, I’ll have YOU know that I do that for all of y’all! ”

Sheepishly, he seemed to curl into himself as you poked your index finger right into his plastron to emphasize the “ you ”.

“ I bring you gifts all the time—April, Raph, Leo, hell, even Splinter, too! ”

Jealousy was starting to burn away, leaving behind the bashful shame as he started to finally contemplate the more reasonable explanations for your behavior. Silently he condemned himself for starting up this whole dumb debacle with such a blatant disregard to the facts.

“ And of COURSE I help Mikey with cooking. You have a specific palette that he doesn’t always remember fully, so it’s up to me to make sure you get a fulfilling meal you’ll actually eat, dummy! ”

Ah, now that was the part that did him in, something he didn’t even know. Just as you were going to continue, he stepped closer.

“ Wait, you do? ”

“ I do—do what? I said a lot of things, Donnie, be specific. ”

Derailed, you stumbled over your claims, lost suddenly at which point he had cling to.

“ I thought Michael was just inconsistent in his preparation of my dishes, but since you say that, I do recall my meals being much better when you were around. ”

His hands had found their way upon your shoulders as he spoke, gaze flitting all across the lab as he collected his thoughts.

“ I had suspected meals were just better when you were around because, well.. ”

You softened as his gaze fell onto you.

“ Because you were there.. ”

Silence fell upon you both, except more comfortably this time. He exhaled deeply, marked with his trademark “ relieved sigh ” then smiled at you.

“ Oh Y/N, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into such a ridiculous argument. I was just… ”

“ You were just… Jealous? ”

Your teasing gaze was searing through him, so much so he shut his eyes tightly and groaned annoyedly.

“ As much as I would wish to not admit it, yes. I may have been experiencing,”

He waved his hand in the air, as if collecting his words.

“ Jealousy, towards your interactions with Miguel.. ”

Donnie was relieved as you laughed away all his worries, leaning in to plant a kiss on his lips. The moment lingered for a few, as if desperately needed to mend this situation, stopping only when you pulled away.

“ Alright, you’re forgiven… For now—BUT! Next time just talk to me, dummy, you got me all riled up for no reason. ”

With that, you gave a playful shove that had him gasping as though he were insulted, and quick to rush to his experiment’s side with more questions than he could keep up with.

Not like he hated an attentive and questioning audience, though. Much appreciated.

[diremoone]

written in fine print | r. sukuna

moving to japan to get a breath of fresh air was supposed to be one of the best decisions you’ve ever made. it still may be, but now you’ve got a problem and you don’t know what to do about it. the problem? ryomen sukuna, one of the wealthiest men on the planet, being… enamored with you. you’ve come fairly far with him as “friends” while keeping him at bay, but after you both spend christmas together, you know that things have changed. and come the first day of the new year comes a surprise that forces you to face your bottled-up truth.

[ Ryomen Sukuna Masterlist ] | part three

w — slowburn, age gap, modern au, older man/younger woman, fluff, mild? angst, this time we get reader’s pov bc it’s time ;3, insecure! reader, self-indulgence, A KISS (but just one for now sorry y’all), reader and sukuna lay their feelings on the table (I’m sorry I couldn’t help but finally get to this part), sukuna gets kinda prose-y lmao, slightly unsatisfied with this fic but I hope y’all enjoy anyway, sprinkle of bittersweet at the end

God, have mercy upon my soul.

The dozens of text messages from your cousin have you sitting on the edge of your bed in absolute disbelief. You haven’t even had any coffee yet, or any sort of something in your stomach. It’s sheer willpower keeping you from throwing up the stomach acid in your belly.

But you do need something. You make your way into the kitchen and nab the biscuits you made yesterday from the bag they were in. You shouldn’t, but you eat all four of them anyway. Then you drink something.

You were wondering why everything was going too good, why life had been so… easy as of late. Now you understood why. It was the calm before the storm. It was the universe allowing you to have some semblance of peace before it decided to throw you into the pit of mental and emotional turmoil that you’d been so great at avoiding.

Why in the world did the universe decide to put Ryomen Sukuna into your life?

That’s the question you have been asking yourself over and over again ever since you decided to take him up on the offer of a first date six months ago. Even worse, why did you even think it was a remotely good idea to get involved with someone over ten years older than you? Universe aside, you should’ve had the good judgement to keep Sukuna away. Your good intuition was something you’d always prided yourself on, so why did you decide to even let Sukuna keep coming around?

You go back to your room and get the phone, rereading over the messages. One in particular your eyes stay on:

A benefactor has paid for nana’s care and set her up in a really fancy, upscale care and rehabilitation facility here. They came and got her this morning to transfer her. When I asked about it, someone from registration said it was a gift for you. Who the fuck did you meet in Japan? 5:16 am

And you know, deep within your soul and in your gut that Sukuna was behind this. There’s no one you know that has the money to pull off something like taking your grandmother from where she was to a facility where she’s going to get more constant help, cleaned, proper rehabilitation. No one else but him.

The coffee maker suddenly beeps, beginning to brew a fresh pot of coffee. You almost jump out of your skin from it. You wait until it’s done before digging out one of the banana nut muffins Shoko brought over two nights ago to pre-celebrate the new year.

You truly don’t know what to feel. You’re unsure about everything. Coming to Japan to get a breath of fresh air from the strain your old life was supposed to be one of the best choices you’ve ever made. But now, all it’s become is a whirlwind of even more, even deeper emotional confusion.

Meeting Yuuji was great. Meeting his older brother? The entire source of the emotional confusion.

You lean against the counter and gaze outside. The snow has finally ceased and you’re sure dozers are out clearing the roads. You can’t help but fall into your thoughts.

For awhile, you’ve had… feelings. You’re not quite sure what they are, but you know that they revolve around the older, rich man you’ve befriended. You know that whenever he’s around, you feel more… open, lighter even. You know he makes you feel flustered, to which you’ve learned to seal said fluster inside of a bottle and remain indifferent in his presence. Every time he looks at you or speaks to you, it makes you feel… giddy. Happy, dare you say it.

And it’s something you swallow down and hide every time it bubbles to the surface, fearing that it’ll be nothing more than the same story as your mother: a heart broken by the letdown of not ever being enough, not being what the man actually wanted, and not being genuinely cared for.

The mug of coffee in your hands grows hot, almost scalding against the skin of your palms. It brings you out of your own mind, just in time to hear your phone vibrate with more text messages, all still from your cousin.

Because apparently fate dropped a man in your lap that was more than ready to give you anything and everything you’ve ever wanted: unconditional love on a gold platter; fate decided that you finally deserve a break from strife and grief, that you deserved to stop eating humble pie, because lord knows you’ve done choked and damn near suffocated on that shit; that you deserved to be cherished and loved and made to be someone’s number one in their life.

You know. You fucking know what Sukuna does to you, how he makes you feel inside. You also know how he wants to treat you and the things he wants to do to you. And perhaps with you, if your gut instinct is right and he wants more than a body to warm his bed.

Who are you kidding? You know you’re right.

But it’s unfortunate for you that all you’ve learned to do is bottle up your feelings and act like they don’t exist. Because you’ve never been loved, not romantically anyway. Especially not like this, from someone like this.

How were you supposed to love? What did it really mean to be in a relationship? You’ve never been in one. Not one that ever really was going to go as far as this. Was what you were feeling all temporary? And if you did get into a relationship, what if he didn’t like you when you got comfortable? What if he didn’t like it when you laughed too hard, or any of the habits you have? What if he was just wanting to play savior and ended up leaving you a few months from now?

You toss your head back and groan. Why? Why was this happening to you?

You opt to spend the day inside, rather than go out like you had planned. You have to text Shoko and Utahime, letting them know that you’re not going to be able to participate in their plans of going out and visiting shrines for the new year. The latter is reasonably mad, but Shoko calms her down in the group chat. Although she does make an innuendo about spending the day with someone else “cozied up in bed” rather than them. You send her a side eye emoji in return on her personal thread.

You change out of your pajamas and into some casual clothes — a dark red long sleeve and some black sweatpants, switching to house socks to regular socks — despite not intending to go out for the day. You do end up on the couch for most of the day, switching your attention from the TV and the messages on your phone more than you care to admit. You hardly eat, and don’t realize it until you can feel your stomach against your spine each time.

All day is basically wasted in front of the television, trapped in your own mind. Trapped in the whirlwind that Sukuna has made of your heart and emotions.

You graze through your entire stock of sweets in less than a day, uncaring if it was unhealthy. Dusk settles on the horizon before you know it and you’re anything but tired. In fact, you’re wide awake.

“What do I do…?” you ask into the open air. You feel stupid doing it, but apparently fate has a response for you.

It’s 9:18 at night when several strong knocks rap at your door.

It’s 9:20 when you decide to finally answer the door.

It’s 9:24 when you realize you’ve got a guest at the front door, the very same man who’s been making you question yourself and your whole life ever since coming to this country.

It’s 9:30 when you question to yourself why you let him in. You didn’t think it through, that much you’re sure of. How could you be when he’s thrown your heart all topsy-turvy and mushed it into goo?

Just looking at him from his back floods your mind and makes your heart race, something you hope you’re able to hide by what you hope is a face of indifference and calmness. You can see the tattoos peek out from his turtleneck, and you have to gulp down your nervousness.

The large mug of fruity tea you’ve poured has now chilled, the ice just barely clinking in the glass. You quickly open the cookie jar on the counter and shove two snickerdoodles in your mouth to stress-eat being prepared for what was coming next.

“I…” you begin, and embarrassingly realize you have to swallow the cookies to talk. “I wasn’t expecting you to… show up.”

Sukuna’s silent for a moment, then replies stoically, “Neither was I.”

You gaze at him longer than you intend to. Your attention is mostly on his tattoos, the little bits that are peeking out from the deep crimson of his form-fitting turtleneck. You watch him readjust the watch on his wrist, partially revealing the tattoo inked onto his wrist. To your surprise, Sukuna actually doesn’t like showing off his tats. He used to in his younger years; he’s still proud of them, but he isn’t as much into flaunting them to the world nowadays.

Sukuna’s deep voice cuts through the air. “Have you… gotten my gift?”

You bite your lower lip. You nod even though he can’t see you. “Yeah… If you mean the one involving my grandmother, then yes.”

“I do apologize if I crossed any lines doing such a thing,” he says. “But I don’t regret it.”

“I can imagine you don’t,” you reply, knowing full-well that him regretting anything was a very rare occurrence. “But… Why? Why would you do that? Go through such trouble to help me… and my family? Just… Why?”

His ginormous frame turns to face you to look into your eyes and answer with nothing short of honesty, “Because I want you to be cared for. I’ve seen happiness in your eyes and I want to keep you happy. I want to be the one making you happy.”

“Buying my love will only get you so far,” you say.

“I know. I want to do more for you. I want… to be more for you. Not just… this. Whatever we have going on,” Sukuna admits casually, crossing his burly arms over his chest. But he doesn’t make eye contact. In fact, he keeps his eyes to the floor, away from your gaze. “I know what I want, although I’m not quite sure how to describe everything I feel… when I’m with you and when I think about you. It’s… I know what it is, I’m pretty sure, but at the same time… I don’t.”

“It’s new for you,” you mumble. Surprisingly, he actually hears you and nods. He doesn’t lie. Not with you.

“I’ve been with many women over the years, all for the same reason. I’ve never felt like falling in love or that it would ever matter. I know lust, I know what comes with that. With you, it’s anything but. At first, yes. But your immediate rejection, you continuing to keep your distance from me and your distaste known made me stop and think.”

You raise your brows. “All it took was a girl with some strong boundaries to make you realize you can’t live off being just horny for then rest of your life?”

Sukuna laughs. He actually laughs. A bright smile crosses his handsome face as his shoulders shake with laughter. He tries to cover it up with a hand, but all it does it muffle it into loud chuckles. It takes a good couple minutes before his chuckles finally fall into a simple smile of amusement. That’s when you admit your own truths. If you were going to be hurt, you might as well get it over with.

“In a way,” Sukuna admits. And then he admits even more, opening his heart and putting it on his sleeve. “You’ve reminded me that there is more to life, that I can be genuinely happy beyond office walls and red light districts. You have made me remember what feeling excited, what being on my toes feels like. You make the air lighter… happier, every time I see you. You… I care for you.”

Sukuna’s last words of admission are watered-down and you both know it. Then again, he says he is new to these kinds of feelings. And at this point, you believe him. You wonder if he knows that you’re just like him — exactly the same: that you’re new to the feelings of love, what it means to be in love. It’s confusing, really. You’re not sure where to begin when it comes to saying the things that Sukuna has seemingly had no problem admitting to you. You can’t just say, “Ditto” and make out with him.

Well, you could, but that’s beside the point.

You swallow the frog in your throat and look at him. He isn’t looking at you but at the ground, almost like he’s unsure of himself.

“You’ve made yourself a cozy place inside me, too,” you speak softly. Your hands don’t leave the mug as you set it on the counter. “We’ve only known each other for barely half a year, you know? You make me wonder if what I’m feeling is love, most of the time. I enjoy you; I enjoy your company. I enjoy the thrill you bring into my life. I… enjoy how weightless you make the world feel. I… I like the thought of being… prioritized. I’m just… confused on whether or not these feelings are rooted in love or something else entirely.”

“And I apologize for making you feel that way,” he replies. “That isn’t my intention.”

You’re quick to your words before he can continue. “Don’t apologize. Please. It’s not your fault. I… I’ve never been in a relationship. I don’t know what love is or what it’s supposed to feel like. I’ve never been loved, and I’m not quite sure how to reciprocate it. I’m afraid I’ll fuck up. Say the wrong thing, not do something right.”

Sukuna’s brows furrow. “There is no right or wrong way to be in a relationship — just yourself.”

“I’ve heard that, just as much as I’ve heard otherwise.”

Silence fills your apartment. You tap your nails against the glass mug, little tinks! resounding. You can’t look at Sukuna now. Not after just admitting to having never been in a romantic relationship. Now, you must seem more of your age than you ever have in his eyes.

“Any insecurity you have is not invalid. I would never disrespect them,” Sukuna finally says, sheer conviction making you shiver.

The giant man stands to take his place not even a foot from you. Magnetism draws you to his face and you cannot look away. His hand comes up and brushes his large fingers across your cheek.

And like an open book, he reads you from the front cover to the very last word, reading off your exterior cover and the interior pages you’ve hidden away. “You’ve carved yourself from early maturity, into someone that your loved ones have needed you to be. You’ve never been able to truly be yourself, be free. You’ve always had to be the rock that everyone has needed, when no one has been for you. You desire to be loved, but not at the expense of heartbreak nor sacrificing the person you’ve molded yourself into for the people you love. You desire to be free above all else, not wanting to be loved unless there’s someone who can love you and give you your freedom at the same time.”

You gape, eyes almost as wide as saucers with your eyelids lined with burning tears. You dip your head and sniffle.

“I want that. I want that for you. I want to be the one to give that to you,” Sukuna continues. “The time we spent together not even a week ago, I want more of that. I no longer want to live the way I’ve been living. I want to live with you, do those kinds of things with you. That sounds corny as fuck coming from me of all people, but that’s the truth.”

You can’t help but laugh. His tone of exasperation at himself was just too funny not to.

“And what happens when you give me those things? Will you be done with me? Move on to the next person?” you ask. “Once you’ve played the part of the savior, won’t those feelings end?”

“I’ll never be done with you,” he answers instantaneously, like it was nothing short of law. “You’ve captivated me, all of me. I’ve already tried pulling myself away a multitude of times. But then one little word of anything about you and you’re all I think about for the rest of the day.”

You sniffle again and laugh. “Did you practice this? You sound like a poet.”

“I can be one if you’d like.” You giggle at that. It’s silly, but you feel like Sukuna would oblige you if you said yes. “But I mean it, every word.”

You nod and whisper, “I know you do.” Because it’s the truth. He’ll never not mean anything he says. Brutal honesty is apart of Sukuna.

The emptiness of your apartment is deafening, it’s silence almost palpable to the point where you feel like you might being to suffocate. But large, firm hands cup your cheeks and bring oxygen into your lungs again.

His hands are warm, so warm. The feeling of being touched like this, so intimately, makes all the blood flow to your cheeks to the point where you think you’ll overheat.

“May I kiss you?” he asks, tone quiet, voice deep and baritone that makes shivers roll up your spine. “At least once?”

You can’t help but bite into your lower lip. The suffocating feeling has returned, just for a different reason. But your instinct goes first — action taking the initiative over the brain — and you nod once more, mumbling out a small “yes” that you chastise yourself for being so meek.

Sukuna’s free arm wraps around your waist and gently pulls you to your tippy-toes. You’re running on instinct, one hand resting on his chest, the other circling behind his neck, eyelids slowly closing as he dives in for the kiss you’ve allowed. And when his hand cradles the back of your head, his lips meet yours, and you swear to everything from heaven to hell that you’re about to explode and die in this man’s arms.

Everything feels like it’s on fire… until it doesn’t. That fire slowly simmers down to a gentle flame, one that brings a sense of contentment.

Sukuna tilts his head, moving your lips and deepening the kiss. You allow it, and it feels like the kiss has sunk to a new depth of desire. Dare you even think or say it be devotion. His lips are warm and sweet on yours; his kiss isn’t one of urgency, but perhaps the desperation of longing. It’s not slow and controlling, not greedy. Whatever this kiss is and all the emotions contained within, you know it makes you at peace and content.

Everything feels perfect.

You both part for air, lips slow to disconnect. You can’t help but feel slightly embarrassed being so out of breath, but hearing the slight heaviness of breath coming from the large man makes you feel less awkward.

“Thought you said you hadn’t been in a relationship before?”

Your reply is breathless, “Never have.”

“Then you must be a naturally good kisser.”

That makes you laugh. You press your head to his chest and giggle away, to which you hear what you think is a chuckle from his throat.

It’s 11:20 at night by the time you look at the clock again. It’s too late for Sukuna to go home. That’s the excuse you use anyway. He’s seemingly more than happy to use the excuse right along with you to spend a night with you.

Come morning, however, things shift back to the way they were before: confusing and lonely. The couch was just as empty as the apartment. Under you was not Sukuna’s body, but a stack of pillows from your bedroom.

The note on the counter about being called in for an important meeting doesn’t do his absence justice either, instead sending every one of your walls back up, twice as high and just as thick as they were before.

Your phone dings with new messages. Utahime and Shoko, both of which declare they’re coming over to drag your ass out of your apartment to go shopping like you should’ve yesterday.

You text them back, telling them you’ll meet them at the mall, that you’re going to get ready and this time you aren’t going to miss out.

You don’t know what to do or what to think. You don’t know if one night of vulnerability means anything more than just being open with another human being. All you know is that you need a break, from yourself, your confusion, from life, and especially from Sukuna.

You need the clarity of a shopping trip and good friends for company, because your hopes for what’s coming next are getting far too high and you’re beginning to really fall in love with Sukuna Ryomen.

taglist: (no longer adding)

@vagabond-umlaut | @poe-daydreams | @heresan @thedovahqueen | @lotus-n-l0ve | @chiyoso | @miraclecherryblossomsblog | @unbreakableblueheaven | @marscatbutler | @vanillabloo | @wo-ming-bai | @visionsofmagic | @tohsri | @yuujispinkhair | @lilacliliess | @bub-ss

[identifying-cars-in-posts]

hey y’all. i do not mean this as a call out post and i’ve cut out the person who put this tag, and to that person please know i am not at all angry or upset with you, if i were i would have blocked you. you’re not the first to do this but you’re the most recent so i’m using your tag as an example. but please, to you and to everyone else who follows me here,

I AM NOT YOUR IDOL. PLEASE DO NOT CALL ME YOUR IDOL. i appreciate that you enjoy what i do. i am thankful for everyone’s support and that people seem to really like this blog. but please do not call me your idol or a god or put me on a pedestal like this. even if this person meant it lightheartedly it really freaks me out to be on the receiving end of a parasocial relationship like this. you’re welcome to say you’re a fan or that you love what i do but please do not put me on a pedestal like this. it’s how people get a distorted view of me and what expectations they should have of me. i am just a random average person on the internet sharing a passion that they never fathomed would grow an audience this big and engaged. i love how enamored everyone is by my very specific skill but please don’t let it make you see me as anything other than a rando with a particular skill set

i am not your idol

[isawken]

just bought the clown. you must perceive it once more

perceive this clown

you have now perceived this clown. thank you

[purelyfiction]

A Shot In the Darkest Dark

Benedict Bridgerton x (F) Reader

Summary: An agreement of terms that are not favorable for your future leads to conversations, moments of stiff air and inconsistency, walls and held hope.

Word Count: 2,393 Words

Author’s Note: welp I bet none of y’all saw this coming now did you, i guess you could call this a prologue to irreperable? thanks to the little bird in my inbox for this!! - arranged marriage, tension and fluff, all the fun things

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You’d just wish they’d cease the deliberations already. The walls of your family home seem to rattle and shake as the booming voice of your father comes from down the hall. Not even an hour prior a letterman had come to the door with a very detailed and lengthy compromise scrawled into the ink. 

It wasn’t unknown to your mother or yourself that your father had been making questionable investments as of late. So much so that he’d begun to fault on payments he’d owed. The moment that he’d understood what the letter was detailing, he ushered you from the room, needing to discuss with your mother what he’d read. 

However, you were not one to be left out of major implications, especially one where you’re not to be in the presence of the employed deliberators. That usually never bode well for you. An ear pressed to the rather light doors allowed you to catch the quick whispers of your name, a debt and a wedding. 

Then your mother had launched onto a defense for your position, which was incredibly brave of her. They were still locked into their counter points to one another when dinner was called. Your mother, flush in the face, can barely look your father in the eye. Meanwhile, he is too busy shoveling the meal on his plate into his mouth to invite a conversation between the three of you. That doesn’t stop you from inciting one. 

“Am I to just be left out of the running? Is there secrecy amongst us?” You knew the response already, it was your attempt at jolting your father into confession.

“Your father is shipping you off to London.” Your mama, always the curt one. Silverware clatters to the table and you meet the eyes of the only man in your life in hopes for an explanation. He fumbles on his words for a few moments before he can finally manage to get out the events that were unfolding. 

“Your mother- I- we have been discussing the manner of our finances. As you know, we are facing a testing set of circumstances and… my partner was kind enough to offer a solution that does not involve a trade of currency.” This partner, however, was the son of his former partner. Your father had been evading this debt for years before the son had come across the missing funds. A conversation last week had revealed the hand that the Amberley house had been facing. The solution? A union of the second eldest son and Lord Amberley’s only child, his daughter - you.

Before you knew it, you were being shipped off to a home in London in order to prepare for a wedding that you had mere days to come to terms with. Stood in a shop with a French woman who wouldn’t dare say more than four words to you with your mother and soon-to-be mother in law in the room, you’re questioning exactly what you’re being greeted with. 

At the very least, your new husband’s mother was a rare gemstone to be found. The woman had greeted you at the shop, by name, with a host of gifts for you and your mother (which was less than anticipated, considering you were approaching with very little to offer on your end) and then began to launch into tales of her family. A very large family, in fact, with children she was immensely proud of, fiercely dedicated to and overly enamored with. It did not come to be ungenuine though, not in the manner of people attempting to piece together some falsity in hopes to cushion their luck. No, no, Violet beamed as she spoke of her eldest daughter, now a duchess, her first grandchild - how she would be certain that her next one would have a great father on their side. Seeing that their father would be your husband. 

Kind, charming, educated and brilliant, she said. Devoted to studying his passion for artistry and poetry, well versed in the society standards while also being an entertaining chap. There wasn’t a poor thing mentioned in terms of this gentleman. Even when the older women had slid out for a breath of air, the modiste mentioned how incredibly stunning the family was, including your groom. 

Over dinner that night, you’d meet your fiance. Not a soul that had spoken of him had been exaggerating. Benedict Bridgerton was exactly as he’d been acclaimed to be. He graciously made his introductions to you and soon after made you chuckle with the comment he’d made under his breath. As you waited for the dinner hour to approach, he guided you around his family’s home. 

“This home is so very far removed from what it once was. See, Daphne, Francesca and Elosie all used to share their quarters with one another when they were younger, as there were only three designated spaces in the home and well, my parents were rather the love birds, it would seem.” You could not fault yourself for the way you grinned at his stories. They continued as you approached his own quarters, littered with canvas and paint jars, the smell of turpentine overwhelmingly hitting your nostrils. 

“I’d assume that you’d like children of your own? Your mother spoke very highly of your characteristics that would aide you in fatherhood.” His chin tucks over his shoulder in your direction, facing out the three panels of glass in the middle of his room. 

“I do not believe that is… solely my decision to make, Ms. Amberley.” Feet stay planted despite their wish to step back in sheer surprise. 

“Implying that you might forgo raising your own children? You speak so highly of your nephew, not to mention your siblings-” 

“That is the furthest thing from what I am implying.” He cuts you off a moment, a swift apology leaving him for doing so. “What I am implying is such that- it is a discussion I wish to involve my wife in.” The manner in which he speaks it is solemn. Benedict’s feet come to a chair, where he settles for a moment, looking anywhere but the direction in which you stand. 

“You wished to marry for love, did you not?” Your question catches him by surprise, leaving his eyes training forward to engage with yours. 

“Well, I certainly did not anticipate my marriage to be a settlement for my father’s books. Not ever did I prepare for such a thing.” Slowly, you draw near, resting a hand on his shoulder. 

“Nor did I.” The pale color of his irises come up in your direction, moving in time with his hand which takes yours. 

“I am sorry that I have stripped you of the opportunity, Ms.” Your brows furrow as you shake your head. 

“No, do not fret with such things Mr. Bridgerton. The choices have been made, there is no value in dwelling on matters we cannot manage by our own volitions.” The way his facial expression softened at your reassurance let you know that Benedict would always be compassionate toward you. If not as your husband, as your friend. 

In three days time, the fanfare of the ceremony and following celebrations arrived just as you had in the glimmering showcase that was the carriage that the Bridgertons owned. The chapel was adorned in the most wonderful arrangements of flowers and foliage you’d ever seen. Coming from a countryside village there were countless items you’d never seen prior to today. The vivid colored flowers in your field of view being one of them, the intricate weaving pattern of your gown another, the ornate and sizeable stones on your neck being the final thing. 

Benedict had insisted that you borrow the jewels from his mother’s collection. If you were not to have the spouse you desired, he was determined to make the rest of the day match the expectations you had conjured in your mind. He had been sincere in the conversations regarding your nuptials, even more so on making you as comfortable as possible. 

The ceremony was rather quaint. It consisted of both your families, the extended and the near, a few family friends on your groom’s side. Your father did not work efficiently enough to keep very many friends. It would seem your luck would change as your last name did. 

Benedict had taken it upon himself to write his own vows, something he mentioned he had hoped to do one day in brief conversations leading up to the event. 

“My darling. I fear as though we embark on one of the most uncertain paths that the Lord provides for us in this life. For that is what He does, after all. He surrounds us with the light of the sun, the life of the botanicals that grow below us, the coursing of the rivers at our side, the family that resides behind us. He provides us with the fruits of His plans he intends for us. He provided me with the gracious woman that is you. As rushed and incredibly daunting as this may be for the two of us,” Benedict’s hand slid into yours, beginning to play with the gemstone soldered to the metal looping around your ring finger, “I pray that it is enduring. That it is kind. That it is joyous, prosperous and pleasant. That the days that result from our union be filled with contentment and merriment, from now and until our souls come to join Him.” 

They were beautiful. So meticulously crafted, and well intended as the two of you began the vow of spending the remainder of your lives with one another. 

Frequently they chase through your mind these days, walking around the home that Violet had insisted you take upon yourselves. The walls of books, the windows of light that brought you breathtaking familiarity of the countryside you’d grown to love - the dedicated quarters that Benedict had aided you in decorating to your every whim. 

The brunette had done every service to aid in your comfort with the marriage enacted. Beautiful gowns from the latest fashions, halls and gardens to lose your time into, countless hobby pools to pick from in waning afternoons, there was no shortage of effort from your husband. 

Your conversations were always well mannered, filled with little details of your past lives, stories of friends and siblings, rumors and fairytales from youth. Routines were built between the two of you, including that every three nights, Benedict would sit with you and read the words of the material you’d chosen to you. 

Tonight was one of those nights. Benedict lounges out on the chaise, jacket long gone, supple adorned vest and matching kerchief around his neck loosened from the days works. His words are joined with the chirp of evening sounds from a cracked window to aid in the circulation of the house. Your hands stay busy with a needlepoint project. The characters he speaks of are discussing the name of the child that’s been born. You implore your thoughts forward. 

“Ben?” His head shifts to look from the parchment and toward you at the use of his name. It was a name that his mother never used, nor his siblings rarely. Perhaps it was just you that had coined this shortened version of the Christian name he’d been given. “Do you suppose we should discuss children?” Blue eyes return to the page in front of him. Given the timeline since your wedding, it was not an unjustified question. You were aware that should the next time you return to London, his mother would be rushing up to you like a hunting dog, ready to drag the kill in from the woods to show off to the ton. 

“Do you wish to discuss it?” His eyes barely glaze over you before he slides a ribbon into the split of the book, covers coming together, the book leaving a hefty sigh on the table next to him upon contact. 

“I worry that it will be questioned the next time we are seen. We have not entirely been honest with one another over the subject.” There were plenty of things that hadn’t been honest in terms of your marriage the last few months. How Benedict and yourself had their own sleeping arrangements. That you saw each other maybe once or twice a day at mealtimes, save for the nights where it was explicitly discussed you’d be joining the other in leisure times. 

Benedict has grown quiet, which is a very odd state for the husband you have come to know the last weeks. This time, you set your own busywork aside, keeping your eyes toward him as he rests in contemplation. 

“I wish to have children of my own. Though, I know the process is… taxing on a woman,” the pillow under his head shifts to look your direction, eyes finally coming to meet with one another for a rare occurrence. They do not avert in quick fashion either. The admittance of a family was something you dwelled on with semi-frequent behaviors. After all, one can only do so much knitting of babe-wear before picturing the scene for themselves. You dwell in the wonder of it all as you keep each other held without touching either one of you. 

Would they look like their father? Behave like him? With the amused twinkle in their eye when a jest is made, a twist of words, stories with outlandish accents and impossible daydreams… would it be so horrible? To wake in the night with a small babe as they cry out for their mother, held in the warmth of her breast, comforted by her scent. You ached for such a life, one you were cheated of the moment the emerald slid to your hand. A very heavy hand that seems to burden you daily. 

“My wife.” Benedict’s voice comes to the room, echoing off of bound paper and golden embellishment on the walls. You tilt your head with a soft grin.

“I am sure we will come to an agreement some day, husband.” There is no need to linger on the unfortunate uncertainties between the two of you. The dark would linger where it rests, those that lived in its shadows subject to whatever hid among it. 

Even the ugliest and most ferocious truths.

[radioactive-mouse]

putting my dream lifeseries team ups on tumblr because the waiting for the next season is KILLING me. these have reasons attached ranging from “i think this would be narratively satisfying” to “WOULDNT IT BE SO FUCKING FUNNY”

scott and grian: y’all remember that “you’re a monster” from 3rd life? imagine. imagine. look, scott is definitely one of the more level headed members of the cast but i can’t really see him Wrangling anybody into being less of a menace, least of all grian. scott would build them a cute little cottage while grian terrorizes people in the wilderness and grian would come home like “guess what i did today :)” and scott would go “you’re crazy. not stopping u tho :)” bonus points if they’re on terrible terms with scar and jimmy

skizz and martyn (again): i am deeply enamored by their weird bro code energy in 3rd life. jock4jock. i desperately want them to be buddies again they would be so ride or die immediately

martyn and joel: PLEASE. PLEASE. they would crash and burn IMMEDIATELY and every single option for how is hilarious. either 1. they get along like a house on fire and immediately make everyone so pissed off at them that they need to be the first to die because they’re so violently insufferable nobody wants to deal with them. or 2. they’re both supposedly silly little creatures but joel’s incredibly volatile when provoked which causes some weird friction with just how competitive martyn can be when he sets his mind to it. imagine. imagine martyn having to straight man. he would lose his mind almost immediately. i wanna see him have the worst day of his life.

grian and tango: i don’t actually have a reason for this one i just like them and i think they would be so silly :)

bdubs and martyn: KILL EACH OTHER KILL EACH OTHER KILL EACH OTHER KILL EACH OTHER

[lalachat]

"And there you were..."

Author's note: WITERLLY WHAT THE HECK GUYS!!! You have made my heart so full! Almost 100 notes in under 24 hours😭❤️ yall gon make me cry! I am truly and utterly grateful that y'all are liking it so far! I'm a little insecure with my writing, but it's only because i'm so new. I am open to any kind of advice you can give me or constructive criticism that will help make this fic better for you readers. With practice comes improvement!! Also, look i'm evolving with my tumbler knowledge and added dividers, a tag list, and a masterlist that i hope works! Look at me go😭🤧 ANYWHOOOO... are y'all ready for this one?? I fully planned on posting this next week but i'm too freaking excited! Eheheheh writing this had me giggling and kicking my feet! Enjoy my loves<3

Summary: You and Lucien decided to leave Rita's after discovering your mates kissing each other. With no reason to stay, Lucien offers you the comfort of his home and a glass of your favorite wine to help decompress the stress of both your mates. How could you say no?

This is for all my Lucien girlies❤️

Warnings: usage of profanity, sexual tension growing between Lucien and y/n, some fluff bc why not, sharing a bed, potential grammar and spelling issues

Word Count: around 3,350

Chapter 2: "Scream my name..."

As you and Lucien walked out of Rita’s, neither of you had noticed two pairs of eyes lingering watching you both leave after they heard Rhys’ commotion questioning Mor into oblivion about what the hell was going on. Mor had almost smirked at the fact that all it took was for you and Lucien to leave together to make Az and Elain both glance at y’alls receding figures. If it weren't for Rhysand in her face, she well would have. Even as Rhys is trying to get her to talk, she could not wait to tell you the plan had worked! Even if it was just a glance, it was still something! Small progress is still progress, right? Oh, she wishes she could have Feyre paint their reactions to you two leaving because it was priceless. Maybe Mor would and give it to you for solstice? But for now, she has a very upset cousin to deal with.

You and Lucien stopped at a local market to grab snacks and your favorite wine for your impromptu evening at his apartment. As you walk out of the market towards his place, Lucien can’t help but to ask about Azriel. 

“So... The shadowsinger is your mate huh?” Lucien asks while tucking his hands in his front pockets glancing to your face as he asked you his question. 

“Yeah... When I first met Az, it was when Rhys had offered me a room to stay in for a night. Rhys and I had quite literally run into each other a moment prior. I was traveling through the night court and was so distracted by the beauty that I ended up running right into Rhysand. I had knocked his freshly bought paint that he was planning to give Feyre all over us. I felt so bad that I kept offering to pay him for the cost of the paint along with his clothes, but he kindly refused. I had no mental shields back then, so he easily saw I was a nomadic traveler that had no place to stay or wash up. He offered me a room in his home for a night and a training over mental shields as payment, and I kindly accepted. I hadn't had a nice place to stay in such a long time. But, little did I know it would not be my peace and that my mate lived in the home I was about to stay at.” you said as you walked in tandem with Lucien down the streets towards his apartment.  

“Always so generous that high lord. And, I assume you know who my mate is then?”  

“That he is. And yes, I do. If you don’t mind me asking, why doesn’t she want the bond?” 

“The same reason your mate doesn’t see yours... She’s too busy being enamored by him to try and pursue or explore things with me.” He finds a rock on the pavement to kick along as you two walk. Lucien kicks it towards you. 

“At least she knows you’re her mate.” you shrug, kick the rock back, and Lucien chuckles. 

“You have a point, and Azriel would know if you would just tell him.” 

“Yeah, but would it change anything between us? Probably not. It would most likely end up like you and Elain if I told him...” Lucien stops and goes silent for a moment. “No offense of course!” 

“None taken. How did we even end up in this mess? You and I both having mates who do not reciprocate any kind of feelings toward us because they like each other is almost ironic.” He laughs at this situation you are both in. 

“You know now that you're saying it out loud, it is quite ridiculous.” You giggle. For a moment you had completely forgotten about Azriel and Elain. Lucien once again, being so alluring that you forgotten what you had just seen at Rita’s.  

Lucien glances at you and finally takes in your appearance. Your cheeks start to turn rosy at the sight of his eyes trailing over your body. Your dress still leaving little imagination for Lucien. Your body grows hot from the sudden attention. 

“He’s absolutely dumb as rocks for not looking at you tonight, because you look ravishing.” and gives you a playful wink. 

“Lucien you're just saying that to make me feel better.” 

“Y/n I kid you not, I truly mean it. You are one of the most beautiful females I have ever seen!” 

“Thank you Lucien, that means so much more to me than you will ever know,” as you look into his eyes and smile at him. He stares at you, smiles and dips his head to say you're welcome before continuing. 

“Almost there, it is right around this corner.” 

“Perfect, because I am freezing and in dire of more alcohol. I am too sober for all this emotional shit,” you say as Lucien laughs at your comment and you both turn the corner. 

“And we're here! Home sweet home!” 

You walk into his apartment and your senses are engulfed by the smell of cinnamon sticks, crisp apples, cedarwood, and roasted chestnuts. It felt like home. Everything in his apartment felt so warm and welcoming. You sat down the groceries you had gotten on the center table near the living room couch, and slowly took in his décor. You were surprised everything looked so coordinated. His apartment was filled with warm colors like reds, oranges, and yellows. It reminded you of your brief stay in the autumn court. You wondered if that’s why Lucien decorated it this way. Maybe he had found a sense of belonging in those colors. While you were taking in his apartment, you hadn’t noticed him grabbing you a change of clothes to wear along with a warm woolly blanket.  

“Here, these are for you to change into, and this is for you when you get cold later because I know you,” Lucien handed you the clothes and sat the blanket down on the couch. “The bathroom is through the hall on your left! Let me know if you need anything.” 

“Okay, thank you!” 

You started walking to the bathroom, the floor creaking beneath your feet as you opened the door. You stepped inside and quietly shut the door. You could hear Lucien in the kitchen popping the bottle of wine and pouring you both glasses, but what you forgot to realize is how you were going to take this dress off. After Mor’s last minute dress change, you had to call Nuala and Cerridwen to help you into it. You had not thought about how you were going to get it off. You slightly began to panic. “It’s okay... you can do this. It’s just a dress, can't be that hard right?” You tried to maneuver your arms into reaching the back of your dress but to no avail, Mor had to pick the most complicated thing you have ever seen. She was right though, this dress did look hot as fuck on you. You struggled a few times more before huffing and giving up. So, you had to do what you had to do...  

“LUCIEN, I NEED HELP!” You could practically hear him sprinting down the hall to get to you in the bathroom. Without thinking he pushes the door wide open. 

“WHAT IS IT? Are you alright?” His face scans you for any kind of injuries but finds none. The only thing he finds is you still in that damn dress that drove him crazy. “Why are you not in the clothes I gave you?” 

“First of all, I could have been indecent. Didn’t your mother ever teach you to knock! Secondly, you see, as a male you would not understand this predicament, but I cannot get my dress off by myself. I need help unfortunately... I swear this is all Mor’s fault!” 

Cauldron boil him... “So, you mean to tell me, you screamed my name to help you with your dress because you cannot do it yourself?” 

“Yes...” you can hear Lucien sigh. 

“There are much better ways to scream my name y/n and you know that but for the sake that you are quite literally stuck in that dress, I’ll help you. Turn around.” Your face turns hot at his comment, and you swat at his arm. 

“LUCIEN! This is not funny!” he can't help but chuckle at your flustered state. 

“Okay, okay, you being stuck in a dress is not funny. Got it! Now stop being stubborn and turn around so I can help.” 

“No, wait! You have to close your eyes!” 

“Y/n, how am I supposed to help you with your dress if I cannot see? Besides you act like I haven't seen you naked.” Again, your face betrays you as your cheeks turn bright red at the thought. You huff. 

“Fine, okay you can keep your eyes open but no funny business Mr. Vanserra. I am watching you!” Lucien chuckles at how flustered he had made you and he is living for it.  

You slowly turn your back to him and lock eyes with him through the bathroom mirror. Lucien takes the back of his knuckles and traces them delicately down the skin of your spine, almost like if you were made of glass and that you'd break at the slightest touch. His hand radiates so much warmth you must stop yourself from letting out a couple of sighs. The entire time he does this his eyes do not leave from yours through the mirror. His hand finally reaches the back of your dress, and he looks away to start undoing the claps. Thank the mother because his stare was driving you crazy. Each clasp he undoes, he makes sure to take his sweet time on. He doesn't miss the way your skin crawls with goosebumps at the slightest touch of his hands against your back. Gods, you had missed his fiery touch. It had felt like forever since he last touched you.

You slowly felt the dress getting heavier with each clasp undone. You could tell Lucien was near the end when your dress had almost slipped off your chest threatening to expose your naked breasts to him. Luckily, Lucien was too preoccupied to have noticed you trying to regather it back up for coverage. You couldn’t help but to selfishly think about turning around to look at him as your dress falls to the floor. Heat slowly began to warm your lower abdomen. You had to clench your thighs together in hope of Lucien not catching your growing scent of arousal. What would Lucien do to you if you did that? Would he pin you against the sink and truly make you scream his name? Gods you wished. Just then you caught a whiff of your scent. Damn your mind and body for betraying you! You were so worried about Lucien this whole time, when you should've been worrying about yourself. However, you decide that this is probably not the time to be thinking about such lewd things after what happened with Az.

As he was on the last clasp, Lucien couldn’t help catching your lingering scent in the air. You were going to be the death of him. He kisses the newly exposed skin of your back as his scent starts to slightly change and mix in with yours. Your head fell back as your eyes closed in anticipation. His eyes had wandered back to the mirror to see your eyes shut reeling in his touch as he peppered kisses up and down your spine. He marveled at this moment for a brief second before unclasping the last clasp of your dress. Your eyes met his as the last clasp was undone, and you let your dress pool to the floor as a test of restraint. For you or him, you didn’t know which. He held you gaze for a moment, never looking away from your eyes, before ghosting his lips on the nape of your neck. 

“All done...” he whispered as he slowly turned around, shut the door, and walked away back to the kitchen. Cruel wicked male.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and tried to recompose yourself. Gods would drinking more wine be safe anymore after what just happened? You sighed and you picked your dress up off the floor and folded it as nicely as you could. You grabbed the clothes Lucien had given you to change into and started putting them on. Immediately you are swallowed by the musk of Lucien's clothes. It is almost overwhelming if it weren’t for the fact that you loved the smell of the autumn court male.

You laughed at yourself in the mirror as you looked and saw his t hanging so loose on you, it was practically a dress. But let's be honest, you loved it. You slowly opened the bathroom door and made your way out with your former dress folded nicely in your hands. You sat your dress down on the table and turned towards Lucien with a smile. 

“So... how do I look?” and give him a twirl. Lucien looks at you and smiles. Gods, you looked even better in his clothes than in that dress but he wasn’t about to give in that easily. 

“Like a little boy.” Lucien said with a playful gleam in his eyes. 

“YOU TAKE THAT BACK RIGHT NOW!” as you shake a finger at his face. He laughs. 

“Fine... You look like a very cute little boy!” he says grinning from ear to ear loving the effects his teasing was having on you tonight. You instead stick out your tongue and give him that all too well known finger gesture. He is practically hurled over in laughter, but you just huff and plop yourself on his couch.  

“Be useful and get this “cute little boy” more wine! I'm definitely too sober now.” He laughs again and it warms your chest. You cant help but to grin back.

“Are you sure you can drink wine? You look a little young to be drinking such adult drinks” as he grabs the wine glasses along with the bottle for refills later.  

“LUCIEN, I WILL STRANGLE YOU IF I HEAR ONE MORE LITTLE BOY JOKE!” 

“Okay, okay. Here’s your wine doll.” He hands you your glass with a smile, “You actually look even more beautiful now that you’re in my clothes.” As he sends you a wink before sipping some of his wine. 

“Thank you...” you smile as you take a sip from your own glass. 

“So, other than your mate being an enigma to you, what else has happened since I saw you last?” you both get comfy on the couch and sip on your wine. 

You had failed to realize how long you and Lucien were apart. You told him about your travels through all the different courts, and he told you about his part in the war along with how he became a part of the night court. You both sat there and exchanged every story you could possibly think of, trying to catch up on every moment you missed together. Soon the stories turn into giggling. Neither of you could hold it together as one of you would say something slurred and the other could cry out in laughter. It was the wine-speaking now, but neither of you had minded. You both had forgotten what it was like to be in each other's presence. It was nice to rekindle old flames with your friend, but you had to be careful. Recatching old feelings would not be good for you with this whole Azriel situation. You looked out the corner of your eye to see Lucien trying to fight off a yawn.  

“Oh, don't tell me my lil fox boy has grown tired of me?” as you slightly pinch his cheeks. He grins as he sees you also fighting off your own tiredness. 

“Mmmm seems like my yawns are contagious then, because I could’ve sworn I saw you do one just now.” he raises an eyebrow at you. 

“Okay, maybe I did. All this catching up and wine drinking has made me sleepy.” You decide to grab the blanket Lucien sat on the couch for you earlier this evening.  

“I don’t blame you... Now if you excuse me, I am going to go change into something more comfortable, these clothes are killing me, and then we will call it a night.” he says as he sticks a finger in his collared shirt to loosen the neck and walks off still in the clothes he wore at Rita’s. You chuckle at his figure walking down the hallway to what you would assume to be his room. You don’t know how long he was in there, but you couldn’t wait any longer. Your eyes were too heavy, and you were too drunk to stop your movements down the hallway towards where Lucien disappeared. You find the door he dipped into and see it is cracked a smidge. You decide to knock, unlike Lucien earlier.  

“Hey Lu? Can I come in?” No answer. “Lucien I’m really tired and I don’t know where you want me to sleep...” you slowly push the door open but put too much weight on it and tumble forward into his room. Unlike your knocking, Lucien heard you tumble and was at your side to catch you in a heartbeat. You let out a laugh. “Oh, I'm too drunk for this shit... I'm sorry, I only came here too-” you look up to see him in gray sweat pants, hair loose, and no shirt. Mother blessed this man too much! Oh fuck. Get me out of here.  

“Y/n, you were saying something?” He looks down at you with mischief in his eyes knowing you couldn’t keep yours off his bare chest and gray sweatpants. Your eyes blink rapidly, and you shake your head trying to get that image out your mind but its seared its way in.

“Oh yes. I was just- um, why did I- OH! Where do you want me to sleep? I’m like minutes away from passing out on the damn floor!” Lucien laughs. 

“You can sleep in here, and I can stay on the couch for tonight. Is that alright?” 

“This is your bed and home Lucien. I can't let you sleep on the couch as I take your bed... it just feels wrong. I'll take the couch and you can keep your bed for tonight.” you say as you turn around to head back into the living room before you feel Lucien's hand around your waist stopping you.  

“Y/n I swear to the mother, do not be stubborn and take the damn bed please. It’s too late for this, I promise you it’s okay! I insist.” 

“I guess old habits never die. Always trying to get me in your bed Lu.” you smirk as you crawl in and wrap up in his silk auburn sheets. You thought his house and clothes smelled nice, but his sheets, his sheets were heavenly. You almost fell asleep then and there because it was so calming. Lucien walks over to you and kisses you on the forehead. 

“Goodnight doll, I am truly sorry for your mates behavior tonight. Sleep well...” He turns around, turns out the lights, and is about to walk out the door but hesitates as he hears you say-- 

“Lucien wait-” 

“Yes?” 

“We’re both adults here, right?”  

“Well one of us looks like a little boy, but yes. Why?” Lucien replied. You rolled your eyes at his playful remark from earlier. 

“Adults can share a bed, and nothing has to happen.” 

“Y/n are you saying you want me to sleep next to you?” 

“Yes, I am. I don’t want to sleep alone tonight.” you sigh. 

“Always so persuasive... scoot over.” You open the sheets and scoot over in the bed to make room for Lucien. You feel the bed dip down as he crawls in. You both lay there for a moment reeling in that you two are sharing a bed again. The only difference is now the lingering heartbreak you both feel from your mates. You turn around to face Lucien and ask- 

“Can I lay on your chest?” He doesn’t verbally respond but wraps his hands around your waist and softly pulls you closer to him. You lay your head on his chest, listening to his heart beat, and look up at his face. You tuck a couple of stray hairs that had fallen in his face and tuck them behind his ears and say, “Thank you for tonight, Lucien. Elain is so lucky to have you, she just doesn’t know it yet.” 

“Thank you doll, neither does Azriel. Now let's get some much needed rest. Goodnight,” said Lucien. 

“Goodnight Lu,” as you rest your hand on his bare chest next to your head and you feel Lucien's arms tighten around you. You can't help but to feel so at peace in his presence, and neither can he, as you both fell asleep holding each other all night.  

If you’re interested in being on my taglist, please let me know!

Tags:

@thelov3lybookworm @justdreamstars @character---obsessed @stained-glass-eyes0708 @acourtofbooksandshadows

[d0not-disturb]

forgot to add to my last ask but i am enamored with your art and style and youre THE grumbo queen to me

Oh y’all’s are such glazers 🙏🫶🫶🫶I love Yalls so much💜

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️ Ranking Richonne

#30: This Is It (S7E12)

Their smiles in this 7.12 scene will forever warm my heart. 🥹 And after seeing the palpable yearning Rick and Michonne have for each other in each of these TOWL trailers, you just know that it’s moments like the one on this rooftop that they both long to return to. (Side note: when they said TOWL would be an epic love story they were not playing around 🔥 every teaser and trailer is showing why this is the most epic husband and wife and this is some crazy love for real. 😍)

Now y'all know Richonne's honeymoon episode 'Say Yes' is gonna make multiple appearances on this Top 30 list. Starting with this lovely moment right here where our power couple is so visibly enamored with each other...

(And y’all, at first I really thought I was gonna make these posts a lil paragraph each, but then I saw a post that said, “I’m my target audience on Tumblr,” and I was like - you know what that person is right lol. And I love me some detailed Richonne insights, both to nestle in and read and to write, so instead of short and sweet, these posts are about to be my signature-length and sweet. Cuz truly I can’t help but go all out when it comes to reveling in Richonne)

Lemme start by saying we are so fortunate to have Andy and Danai as the captains of this ship and that this extraordinary TV relationship is in the hands of two extraordinary actors. The way they give their all to these characters and always speak so beautifully about Rick and Michonne’s relationship is just a blessing. 🙌🏾

I remember Andy saying that he likes to think “I love you” is communicated every time Rick looks at Michonne, and it really really is. And this moment in 'Say Yes' is a prime example. The way they look at each other throughout this scene was a loud and clear “I love you” from them both, and I absolutely love to see it. 

Ok so refresher - because the universe was like Richonne deserves to keep winning on this honeymoon, they climb on that roof and find a boatload of guns at a carnival. And I love that they let Rick and Michonne’s run take place at such a date-like environment.

And I am smiling uncontrollably seeing the two of them smile when they realize this is it. They’re so beautiful and their joy brings me joy. It’s great seeing that they’re in such a good mood after being so down in 7A, and I adore every glance and synchronized smile they share. 

I love Rick saying, “I think this is it” and Michonne smiling as she agrees. This line is pretty accurate to their relationship too. This relationship is it. This is the one for them. I mean, Andy said it himself - Rick found the greatest love story of his life in finding Michonne.

Rick asks, “Think we can?” which is also cute cuz he def knows they can. As was shown in the 7.10 ep 'New Best Friends,' Rick thoroughly enjoys the fact that he and his woman are such a power couple and there’s nothing they can’t do. (and the CRM finna learn there's nothing this husband and wife can't do together real soon 💁🏽‍♀️)

When Rick asks if she thinks they can, Michonne is like let me find the coolest way possible to say 'yes we can' when she gets a determined look on her face and shoots those cans from a far distance. It’s nice cuz when she went out practicing her shot in 7.04 it was a very frustrating experience for her, but now with her man by her side and fighting the fight with him, she’s having a far more fun and successful time. And this would be how two of the baddest in the land have a carnival date. 😋

I love how happy Rick seems to be here to see Michonne in her element. He knew she had been practicing out there alone, and now he gets to see that of course his boss of a wife has got good at it. And their smiles and laughs. Food for the soul.  

You can just feel Rick taking in every moment he has with her and cherishing it. His adoration for this woman is so visible. And as we know, at this point, Rick had come to terms with the fact that he may not make it out of this Saviors war and that they’d lose people. So seeing him be so present in this moment with Michonne like they were the only two in the world, is all the more heartfelt cuz he’s trying to enjoy this moment like it’s his last. Cuz realistically, it could be.

And if his days really are numbered, then spending quality time enwrapped in Michonne's love and smiles is a major part of how Rick wants to enjoy what valuable life he has left.

Michonne is so glowy and happy in this scene too. 🥰  This is the face of a woman whose heart is being cared for by a good man who will be by her side through anything. Her adoration and fulfillment with her man are so fully on display, and she's so deserving of this kind of love and happiness. Also it’s sweet how Rick has this impressed look at her as she knocks down those cans.

And truly what makes this a top 30 scene for me is their reactions after she says that. Because Michonne gives Rick the most sincere sweet smile that is just so clear she loves him. And then the lingering way Rick looks at her 😍…based on that look it just feels like my man Rick was a bit overcome with his love for her. 🥹

It was most definitely a moment of Rick thinking, 'How’d I get so lucky finding you?' And I love that Rick can never hide his feelings for her. This is a man who is so deeply in love with his wife. And how he quietly soaks up this happy moment with her melts my entire heart. You can genuinely see that this moment in time with his true love is one Rick treasures and wants to hold onto for as long as he can.

And I just so respect that with his character so aware that life can be cut short, he’s really presently basking in each moment with her. Time with Michonne and their family is what Rick most wants. And it's refreshing to see them both be so fully present in their Richonne bubble and enjoying what they've always wanted in this scene.

The scene ends with them falling through the roof, but then after a moment of silence, you hear them laughing yet again. I love it. Nothing was bursting that Richonne bubble.

Andy and Danai understand the assignment every time when it comes to depicting Richonne’s relationship. And I love that they knew in an ep where they get to just have all this alone time, they would be so smiley and on cloud nine. And this was one of the moments that beautifully portrayed that. 

Joy wasn't often depicted on this show, but whenever Rick and Michonne got alone time together it was joy’s time to shine. They know they can get through anything together so they’re able to just take a moment and enjoy each other and laugh and smile and that is a rare and wonderful thing only the two of them could give each other in this way.

So if you were to ask me what true love is, I’d show you Richonne scenes like these and just have three words - This. Is. It. 😌

[ivonhart]

FIC POSTED 🤯

a lil’ snippet of the wrecker fic I’m working on rn cuz I’m loving it sm

reader is a twi’lek (like usual I kept the skin color up to y’all’s imagination - she’s purple in my eyes hehe + I wrote her lekkus to be somewhat longer than shown in the show cuz if that nasty dude twi’lek Bib Fortuna - he scares me so bad man - can have long lekkus so can my girl 👹)

-

“Oh, I’m so excited to see what Phee has brought back!” Lyana said with bright eyes as the three of you made your way to the top of the island. You eyed her father with a small smile before responding. “As am I.”

A thoughtful hum passed by your lips as you pulled one of your lekkus over your shoulder, messing with the flower vines you decorated your head-tails with. “I wonder if you picked up any new seeds for me? The gardens could use some new friends.”

You were as close of a friend to Phee as she let you be after she freed you from slavers whilst on a mission to “liberate” an ancient Ryloth artifact the slavers wished to part with. As the three of you reached the summit and watched the ship come into view, you noted the four individuals that stood in front of her. One being a young girl with short, blonde hair.

Despite the fact they ranged from shape and size, they all sported the same colored armor. “After all, I am a liberator–” Shep was quick to announce their presence by finishing her sentence. “Liberator of ancient wonders.” Clone Force 99’s attention turned towards the new voice and that was when Wrecker saw you.

A Twi’lek dressed in a long, flowy dress that blew in the light ocean breeze, paired with an apron that was slightly dirty that held gardening tools looked at his brother from underneath her large floppy hat that was decorated with flowers along the top. Even though you wore a hat, he could still take in your lekkus that dropped down your back and swayed with each breath you took.

As you got closer, you saw that your head-tails were wrapped in small lines that sprouted a few small flowers along the larger parts of the vines. You were the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes on. His eyes never left your figure as you bounced over to Phee with a wide smile. “PHEEEEEEEE!”

The woman in question opened her arms with a small smile as she braced for impact. Everything about you drew Wrecker’s attention and he felt his heart speed up as passed him to get to her. Your scent was one of dirt and flora. It was intoxicating. “Easy now.” Phee started with a laugh. “Those tools you got might poke my kidney out if you hug me any tighter.” And your laugh. Wrecker had to force his legs to stay under him as the sound flowed through his ears like the sweetest melody.

He was so enamored with you that he didn’t see the way Hunter eyed him. “About time you showed your face around here.” Shep said with a laugh after you pulled away, allowing both him and Lyana to embrace him. “What’d you bring this time?” As Phee kneeled down to show Layana, you took the time to look at those she brought along.

From a closer distance it was clear that they were clones, but they weren’t like the ones you remembered from Ryloth. They had similar faces, but there were slightly different aspects about each and every one of them.

The one next to the little girl sported a skull tattoo that took half his face along with a notable, red bandana that held his long hair back a tad. The next one seemed to hide behind his data pad, but you could still see that his goggled-eyes were stuck on Phee as she spoke about the artifact. You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged on your lips.

Then your attention moved to the last clone and he was…breathtaking. He was as large as a house with broad shoulders and strong arms, but his eyes held almost a shyness from under your gaze. His brown and white eyes shifted side to side every few seconds as you kept your full attention on him.

You were so focused on memorizing the trail of scars along his eye that you didn’t realize Phee had been speaking to you until she waved her hand in front of her face. “Seems Flower here likes what she sees, huh?” Heat burned your cheeks as you snapped your eyes away from the man with an open mouth. You were about to rebuttal the woman, but she simply turned on her heel and began introducing everyone.

-

this fic for me all like

his literally my wife - I’m already three pages deep in a google doc rn - size 11 font NO sentence spaces

[rodolfoparras]

Price and Soap have such a chokehold on me right now 😫😫 Like both of them are so hot but they would treat their s/o so differently (imo)

Soap would be so touchy and sweet. Whenever you’re together, he always needs to be touching you. Whether it’s a hand on your thigh while sitting with the rest of 141, or him laying his head in your lap while y’all watch a movie. I hc Soap at like early to mid 20’s. He has such a high sex drive. He’s always up to fuck when you’re alone. It’s basically like rabbit mating season if you’re both horny. He’s also just very needy. Maybe he wants you to ruin, at least, one of his holes, or he just wants his boyfriend to hold him after he comes back from a mission.

Price on the other hand, not the complete opposite, but different. Price has more experience because of his age (mid to late 30’s), so he’s not as touchy or needy as Soap, but if he’s deprived of you because of work or something, this man devolves and becomes the most desperate man. Price won’t beg, it isn’t in his nature, but he’ll definitely make his intentions and wants known. Putting on the cologne he knows you can’t resist. Purposely bending over to show off his ass. Wearing less and less clothes around the house. He’ll always deny that he wants you, but once you give it to him, he’s chanting your name like a prayer.

I’m sorry for ranting. These men make me realize how gay I am and I’m so downbad for them (can I be 🤠 anon?)

First of all pls don’t apologize for ranting I absolutely loved reading and you can def be 🤠 anon that’s a cute one🥹

Second of all I absolutely loved this bc I love talking about how different price is compared to the rest of the boys when in a relationship

Bc for example soap can be touchy and kissy and need ppl to know that you’re his and he isn’t sharing while price rarely gets jealous someone has to literally be like I want to take you out on a date for him to react and even then he’d stand off to the side rocking on his heel and pretend he isn’t listening in

I also think that soap and price are equally touchy but in different ways soap is like a toddler who’s enamored with a baby kitten he wants to hug and squeeze you and sneak up behind you wrap his arms around your waist etc

Now price id def would say he isn’t touchy but that was until I saw a compilation of him somehow always fist bumping the boys or giving them a friendly pat so let’s say you’re heading out for a mission price is giving your hand a firm squeeze you’re coming back alive and well on the heli he’s giving you the biggest bear hug to exist when in company he’s got a hand on your thigh but no one else can see from the table that’s blocking the view always makes sure to sit next to you in the car he doesn’t touch you or anything it’s just nice to feel your body heat next to him. Also I absolutely agree that price won’t beg hes been in the game long enough to know how to play his cards right he knows how to rile you up what to wear what to do but also what to say you know usually when he speaks to you and you’re in public its very low pda being shown in the conversation but when you’re alone and he’s horny you can be like “are you hungry?” And he’s like depends are you on the menu?