#i just wanna draw my pookies holding hands

[puuuders]

My nsfw meter is empty. Ive been trying to do it today but I'm just not into it

Rip ghostober

I'll draw prompts that I feel like drawing

[rzyraffek]

Hii! I’d love to see some slasher possessive tendencies (nothing dramatic, just small things that show how obsessed they are with their s/o). And I’d love to see Brahms included please and thank you! 👀💕

Ello! Most of slashers are incredibly possessive😭 good luck with that.

Gender neutral s/o!

Slashers being obsessive and possessive of their s/o

Brahms

Physical touch. His hands are always on them. ESPECIALLY around when yall are around other people. Others have to know that they are together!!!

Goes with s/o EVERYTHERE. They must go to shop with them! Wanna go outside and walk in peace and silence in garden? Uhh nah he wanna go with you! Even if s/o asks nicley to leave tjem be he might spy on them :[

Will share everything with s/o! His clothes? Our clothes you mean! Please wear his shirts! Its also vice versa, s/o's jewellery and clothes are also his. They gonna catch him using their favourite cologne or wearing their jewellery!

Wants to hold hands 24/7, doesnt care if s/o sweats! He loves them too much~

Sometimes s/o can wake up and this guy will be glued to them! Im taking wrapped arms and legs around them and s/o can feel his chest moving up cuz its so close😭

Asa Emory

Bro is not letting them leave his warehouse. Yeah sweetie he loves you but you are just too too perfect for him to let you go :[

Bonds by watching animal documentaries about bugs btw

Picks clothes for s/o. He takes your style and preferences in his mind but usually forgets and just buys what would look good on you (at least what he finds cute)

Not very clingy

Lets them paint his nails if they are nice enough

EXTREMELY jelous. S/o mentioned that some guy smiled to them when they were buying groceries? He will get offended😭

The hush

8 years later and I still have no clue what his name was??? Let's call him John because people seem to call him that

John will keep his hand AND eyes on them. Hands on their legs, shoulder, or just holding their hand (thats rare, normal affection with this Goober? Nahh)

Constantly staring at them, looming around and looking what they lover is up to (up to no good surely)

Makes them play video games with him or watch them play

Checks their phone when they are asleep cuz he gotta know everything

Micheal Myers

👁👁

No touching, no verbal nor physical affecion

Dude will hit them with 👍 on daily basis

He seems like he doesnt care, like he has them around for no reason. But of God, this guy knows everything about them. He watches them daily. You can't find Micheal? Oh dont worry sweetie he is keeping you safe, just dont look thrue window :3

Extreme jelousy, s/o can bearly talk to people😭

Okay okay I lied with no touching, its just rare! Sometimes he rests his head on top of theirs or puts his hands on their shoulders or hips

If s/o makes something from him (like drawing, peace of jewellery. Hell, even if they gift him random rock or something) that dude if gonna wear it till the end of the world, even if it breaks off? He has pockets or tape. Even if s/o skill improved and they made better? The more the marrier, he wants all!

Billy Lenz

Gets jelous when s/o gives too much affection and love to their pet

Lays on top of them

Bites, licks, woofs? As a sign of affection and love

He wants the bite marks or Hickeys to be visable so s/o friends know that they are taken!

Not as extreme as Micheal or Asa. S/o could have 2week trip to Egypt and as far as he gets to call them whenever he wants, he is fine

I still remember one time that someone requested Billy Lenz fic, asking for 'sloppy toppy' and it was 4 am and I didnt know what it was so I googled it and I kinda laughed very loudly and my mom woke up and took my pc away for month :( I wrote the fic btw

Anyways, barks at people when he gets jelous

Some of their behaviours might sound toxic or are literal red flag, but POOKIE THOSE ARE MURDERS😭🙏😱 idk if I still got the skill to write, it was a wild 8month break

[hibiscusseaart]

i wanna draw some ideas with AU or even write smth but I feel like shit :')

I'm gonna throw some hcs here and there

Also, question for you ppl! How do you think their kids would call their fathers? I hc that Tobirama refuses to go by any motherly terms (and to break Madara's heart, he doesn't like to be called 'wife' either).

Madara of course takes the more standard position of The Father cuz clan head and all that. Tobirama is more Tobimama cuz he was with their kids the most when they were little.

But I'm asking more traditional terms. Madara as Chichiue/otou-san and Tobirama as Tou-chan and 'papa' when they're little?

Oh and some endearment terms for the pair.

Tobirama uses A LOT of them. At first to convince everyone and especially Madara himself that he is actually in love and then he actually got used to it. Madara doesn't hear his own name from his husband much lmao

Before marriage he'd call him 'Beautiful' and tease him like "Ah, you wanna dance, pretty boy?". He noticed how well Madara reacts to praise, especially of his appearance since he had an ugly duckling phase and had complexes.

Maybe later before the peace treaty and engagement he'd call Madara 'fiancé', cuz the fucker promised

When they're kids he might've call him and "Madara-chan". I mean he still has the experience from his first life and he was around kids a lot and here's little madara running around looking all small cute and funny. Ofc he's Madara-chan or at least -kun.

To be clear Tobirama probably didn't feel anything romantic towards Madara before he turned at least 16, it'd be hella wrong otherwise. Like he trained kids his age before!

But he was definitely fond of him cuz let's be honest Madara is hella cute and funny kid. That was one of the reasons why Tobirama didn't actually kill Madara when he got there. He can't just kill an innocent kid even if he has the potential to destroy the whole world.

Oh and he def called baby Izuna "-chan " just cuz he's a baby too and to see him lose his shit.

So in marriage Tobirama would call Madara lot of endearments. My love, my dear, husband dear, darling, my heart and ect.

But he doesn't like all that mush like cutie patooty or whatever. I cant imagine Tobirama even saying word 'Pookie' 😭

not here kitten whiskers daddy will discuss it later

For Madara it's an interesting story

As kids he'd try to call Tobirama "his future wife" and got thrown in the river or the river was thrown at him. He didn't get the same reaction when he called him "his future husband". Tobirama just slightly nod and Madara would be so happy for the whole day.

He'd also tried to call him beautiful once, but got shy and ran away. Maybe to go fight Hashirama to fight off frustration on himself. He's a good shinobi and he can't even compliment the boy he likes!

But he would initiate some hand holding and even hugs. Even though Hashirama REALLY didn't appreciate it. He can allow hand holding. But hugs? Hell no, "Madara get your dirty hands away from my innocent baby brother!! >:((("

"Anija, please calm down, I don't mind hugging."

"I do!"

Basically this meme but with hugs and baby Hashirama

When they had the fall out and Tobirama orchestrated meetings, he didn't use any terms and tried real hard to forget and bury his feelings cuz Tobirama is an enemy (even if he looks SO good when he fights)

He's an Uchiha and it didn't work. Especially cuz Tobirama still showed a lot of interest and tried to make peace.

Maybe once Madara would try to write some angsty poems about Tobirama's beauty and grace and how they couldn't be together because they're in warring clans. He thought he sucked so much but the poems are quite decent. Tobirama would appreciate it if he finds them.

After marriage he'd call Tobirama "Blessing" a lot. NOT bc of that Blessed AU that's circulating around, but just cuz he truly feels blessed that Tobirama chose him.

Oh and he'd be proud as a peacock to call Tobirama "His husband"

But when he's overwhelmed by feelings he'd be "my wife.... WIFE" - Tobirama really doesn't know where is it coming from, he's not even a proper wife by traditional japanese standards and he doesn't bottom much cuz he doesn't like the whole process of preparation (he's a busy man he can't stretch his ass for several hours straight)

also thinking about how after their deaths Madara's poems and letters to Tobirama while they were engaged but couldn't see each others and Tobirama's journal would be found and someone (probably some of their grand kids?) would edit it a bit and publish as a book as the most wholesome Romeo and Juliette story.

If Tobirama and Madara would get resurrected* again - they'd be like "THEY DID WHAT"

Especially Madara he'd be so embarrassed 😭

*it'd be a good thing for Tobirama to never actually leave any traces of this jutsu in the world, but he worried for his children and left them notes and some of his DNA in case something happens and Konoha needs saving or the whole world once again. Though maybe he'd made something of a counter seal (maybe a tattoo?) or counter jutsu that the person who summoned him wouldn't be able to control him.

ok I got it out of my system, i'm gonna go sleep now

[scarlet-empresss]

Simon Riley x reader relationship headcanons Sooo after nearly seven years of being a mostly inactive member of the fandom, writing countless fics that nobody ever got to see - I can say I’ve developed a fairly clear picture of how I envision some of these characters. Therefore, here are some of the things I think would characterize Simon as a partner (and a few of just him as a person). English is not my first language so please bear with me :)

Friends first. I feel like he's not one to rush into a serious relationship without having strong foundations laid out first. You're a trustworthy, longtime teammate he's been working with for years, who has seen his darkest side and inner demons resurface, and still be accepting of him as a person? Or perhaps you're a civilian working at the coffee shop he frequents; the same civilian who spilled his usual at him one time, leading to an unexpected, but most certainly intruguing friendship? Let's fucking roll with either.

Following the first point—he's not a 'love at first glance' type of guy. He needs a connection, a spark; that spark that comes from knowledge and insight, both gained through meaningful interactions and a genuine bond. This is what Simon seeks. (Bonus points if you're a medic/nurse, because, you know, I fucking love medic x soldier trope)

Now let's get to the love language—definitely acts of service. You're tired after a long day at work? Boom, you've got a nice and hot bath waiting for you, together with your favorite snacks and a glass of wine/book to read (could be both). Running low on essentials, be it your favorite type of coffee, a preferred perfume, tampons, the likes? Well, expect it to be restocked as soon as possible. He'll change the oil in your car, scrape the frost from the windows, anything you as much as mention. If you're sick, he'll do whatever makes you feel better, whether that's a warm compress or something as simple as a bowl of soup and a couple of ice packs. He wants to take care of you. He might not be an expert at expressin his feelings through words, but he'll damn sure cook you a three-course meal and a dessert to show you how much he appreciates you.

That being said, he's an exceptional cook. He doesn't have many opportunities to experiment in the kitchen during deployments or safe houses, but you can be sure that Simon is behind the pots and pans preparing mouthwatering meals whenever he's back home. It's relaxing, and he simply enjoys spending time cooking for you and himself.

Not into excessive PDA - hand holding is okay, but when you two are in a crowd (which he hates), there's a hand on the small of your back or lingering on the back of your neck. Behind closed doors, he's more openly affectionate. Whether you're simply making a sandwich in the kitchen or he breezes past you, he's likely to stand behind you and simply rest his chin on the top of your head, rough hands on your hips, or when you two are sitting on the couch, his arm is either around you or resting on your thigh.

Non sexual intimacy is a big yes; head scratches, hand holding, shoulder rubs, baths together, or anything of the sort. But there's one thing that melts him completely and that's when you kiss his eyelids. If you're his teammate and you're in a relationship, he will appreciate you helping him out of his gear, washing the dirt and grime off his hands or helping him apply the camouflage paint on his face.

He may call you "love" or "sweetheart," but he attempts to restrict these terms of endearment primarily behind closed doors. He's not exactly fond of overtly cutesy pet names either, so he appreciates the occasional "Love" or "Si," but he draws the line at anything more ostentatiously affectionate. "Don't ya ever call me pookie again, got it, sweetheart?"

Wanna wake up before that man? Yeah, good luck with that. He's a proper, bona fide early riser, an early bird, prepared for the day well before the rays reach the horizon. It's like clockwork, a routine that's been ingrained into his circadian rhythm, something that governs his inner system. If he's not out on a morning jog, he'll lie on his side of the bed, staring at you, silently admiring. Oh, and he'll know if you wake up and pretend to be still asleep.

Simon values the power of silence. Quiet as he may be at certain times, this man is not indifferent; he's an observer. He considers observation as a means of learning and appreciates the sheer volume of knowledge that can be gleaned from the study of behaviors, facial expressions, and other body language cues. Furthermore, a comfortable silence may be the strongest indicator of the powerful connection between two people. That's how he knew there was truly something special between you and him.

HOWEVER. The previous point doesn't right away mean that he despises talking. Sure, he's not one for an idle chit-chat, but I feel like it’s a very frequent idea that he’s the brooding and sullen type who prefers grunting over speaking, kinda like Daryl Dixon (that's a huge compliment to Simon). I’d say, Simon is somewhere in between—more of a ‘I speak only when I want to/have something really meaningful to say’. If he's got something on his mind, he'll let you know. And, surprisingly, he has a way with words like the smoothest motherfucker ever.

Not surprisingly, he's a bit of a softie when it comes to animals, especially dogs. Not one to baby-talk when he sees a dog, he merely offers gentle pats on its head or side (if he's more familiar with the dog, I see him petting it like dads do lol). He’s also very careful about the animals and makes sure not to touch one without asking the owner first. As for service dogs, he's especially careful, keeping a safe distance and showing due respect for their role.

You know you're gonna have a K9 at your home when you get with this man.

He's not a fan of surprises or gifts, because he wasn't raised in a family full of hugs and "I love you's" or selfless acts of affection. He struggles to convey his gratitude in the conventional manner, so it's often expressed, albeit indirectly, through acts of service. No matter what it is that you've gifted him, he's grateful for the thought and consideration all the same.

But you better believe he will surprise you in turn. He goes out of his way to procure anything and everything you so much as mention wanting, be it a trivial trinket or something more significant. He's always listening, always paying attention.

Not very into verbal compliments, but his eyes speak an entire novel about how he feels about you. Gentle glances, lingering stares, and silent admiration. He might not be overtly forthcoming with his praise, but one look is worth more than a thousand words.

Big spoon. He's a tad bit paranoid about having his back vulnerable—much like a cat and its exposed belly. It has nothing to do with trust—as he does trust you. It's merely a product of his inner paranoia, though there's a touch of protectiveness in there, too. Beacuse he'd much rather have you enveloped in his arms, ensuring him the sensation of protecting you with his whole body. Perhaps with time he would let you spoon him, but I wouldn't count on it early on in the relationship.

He's territorial, not in a jealous, envious, or controlling sense but rather in a protective and defensive manner. He doesn't like men or women making advances on you, especially unsolicited physical contact or overt flirting. While he won't try to be overbearing or overly assertive, he will make it abundantly clear that such behavior is uncalled for and unacceptable.

civilian!reader - get ready for some self-defense lessons. He'll ensure that you know basic moves that can give you the time to escape a dangerous situation. Simon is well-versed in the brutality of the world, and he won't sugarcoat anything. If you're in danger, you run; if you feel something's wrong, you run. He can't always be there to protect you. So he's drilled this mantra into your brain: no matter how strong, tough, skilled you think you are, you simply can't trust that your enemy won't wield a knife or gun.

But one of the very first things he's given you even before you two became a couple was a can of pepper spray.

He's a direct, straight to the point man, which is why he has no time for beating around the bush. There's no awkward tip-toeing with hints that may go unexplored, no subtle suggestions that may fall flat—he's all in. Whether it's on a mission, in bed, or an argument, Simon lays it all on the line because you're worth it. He will commit to you wholeheartedly, leaving nothing on the table, giving you everything he has to offer because you deserve nothing less.

You fell first, but he fell harder—this man adores you. Although he's not mushy, he won't shower you with affection and cute nicknames all the time, he loves you. And when Simon Riley loves someone, you can be damn sure he means it. His loyalty knows no limits and once he's attached to you, he'll never let go. He'll go through and beyond any lengths to make sure you're happy and safe.

Though he might not openly admit it, he likes it when you take the initiative, whether it's in bed, in your relationship, or just life in general. He values your opinions and respects and acknowledges your boundaries, and makes sure to let his own boundaries and needs be known as well. So, step up and make yourself heard, cause he will listen.

He values honesty highly and has a razor-sharp bullshit detector. Can smell bullshit from miles away, actually. Therefore, never, ever lie to him. Because he will uncover the truth, one way or another. Lies are the one thing that can shatter his trust beyond repair, making it a cardinal sin in his eyes. So, don't shy away from telling him the truth—no matter how difficult or inconvenient or painful it may be.

Now it gets a bit complicated here, because while he expects honesty from his s/o, Simon himself holds back some things. These are largely related to his past or the missions he has been on, the things he has seen. He doesn't want to lie to you, but he does it to protect himself and you. You just have to accept the fact that there are certain things he won't ever tell you.

Is capable of being absolutely terrifying without even trying, let alone when he wants to be. His height, muscles, and scars are a force to be reckoned with. So you don't have to be worried about going on a walk with him in the middle of the night or wearing something a bit more revealing, cause he will beat the living shit out of anyone who dares to touch you.

Absolutely no one can defeat him in arm wrestling or even come close to his grip strength.

Very awkward around babies, and I mean extremely awkward. Like Jane Smith holding a baby in Mr&Mrs Smith. He doesn't know a flying shit about caring for children, especially since he didn't have a positive parental influence growing up or any good role models. The subject of starting a family is still a bit sore; though he would likely grow more open to discussing it as time goes on. Still, a major aspect of his psyche seems terrified of becoming like his father.

Would die a thousand deaths for you.

[komoboko]

𝐀𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥

Sanemi Shinazugawa x gn!reader

angst ・hurt no comfort ・spoilers for sanemi’s backstory ・major character death (reader) ・requested by my Pookie bear ・this coulda came out better

Sanemi Shinazugawa hated demons because they've taken everything he’s ever had away from him.

Hatred wasn’t even a strong enough word for what they made him feel. He despised them, despised the hierarchy of the upper moons, he truly despised the demon king himself. Demons were nothing short of the scums beneath his shoe. A force of nature that defies the rights of humanity’s and should have never existed in the first place.

If only he had put his hatred aside for that one day. If only he had just came home and maybe things would have changed.

Maybe instead of going out of his way to clear an extra spot of demons would have meant he could have came home faster. If only for a moment Sanemi wouldn’t let his emotions go straight to his head. If he would have swallowed down his hatred he could have came home to you much faster, maybe things would have been different.

It was sunset when he made it back to his estate. The sun final rays reflected in the skyline it was beautiful, he had hoped you seen it to. When he opened the door the mansion was silent it was uncanny for no noise to escape from within the walls of his home. Cold hard iron and blood soon infested his scent of smell and a new found fear had taken over as he raced through the estate like the wind itself.

He turns the corner as he stops, his skin grows pale and his eyes widen out of pure fear. His hands shakes seeing a sight he had nightmares about countless nights before. Your body lays twitching there on the ground as blood pours from your chest, your blade last broken beside you with blood staining the blade that was cleaned only hours beforehand. You can only look up at him once before he sees the small fangs that begin to form in your mouth as yourtears continue to make a small puddle on the floor.

Sanemi cannot move as his body only shakes as he stares at your pitiful state before him. Your weeping has snapped him out of his trance as he approaches you, in the back of his mind he already has a feeling it’s too late. You can only stare up at him before your eyes look down at his blade, you both know what you want him to do.

“I don’t wanna hurt anyone.” You manage to croak out as your tears still stain your face. “Please sanemi” He stares at you his hands shaking as he can barely bring himself to let your body go.

He only stands up before drawing his blade, he stares at your form for a final time as a smile can only creep up onto your lips. With a heavy heart Sanemi releases one quick attack, he can’t bring himself to turn around hearing your body collapse onto the floor.

It takes a moment for him to turn around and to stare into your eyes a final time. Your body beginning to fade away as his hands come down to hold your face. His mind flashes backs to the final moments of his dear mother, how her face only looked lifeless just like yours. He only watches as no life could be seen in his eyes as your head finally fades away, only leaving your broken sword behind.

Sanemi Shinazugawa hates demons because they took everything he’s ever had away from him, and now they have taken you too.

Ah there they are. Tears. Shinazugawa still always has a human heart despite the rumors. It was obvious now seeing the river of tears begin to flow.

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

|•♡•♡{Welcome pick your man!}♡•♡•|

|•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡.{Number 6}.♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•|

Notes

{♡} personal

- Silly love notes

Crack

{♡} personal

- You....your a normie? Omfg we need to teach him a/b/o

Hand holding

{♡} personal

- buddy I need this hand, it's my dominate one. Just hold the other- WHY ARE U MAD???

Incorrect Quotes

POOKIE IS MISSING⁉️

Incorrect Quotes

For you

Casper gets migraines

{♡} requested

- migraines fuckin SUCK luckily Charlie is there to help!

Autistic Casper HC's

{♡} requested

- Charlie with a autistic Casper!

Purse Charlie

{♡} personal

- I need him in my purse.

Casper's side quests

{♡} personal

- Casper is just doing side quests at this point

Au idea

{♡} personal

- Casper's a nurse- IS THAT CHARLIE ON THE HOSPITAL BED?!?!

Incorrect Quotes

Limited options

The not so but so happy day

{♡} requested

- Autistic Sunflower having a meltdown, in a grocery parking lot. Luckily Finn knows what to do.

Finn's listeners meeting

{♡} personal

- all the Sunflower variants are losing their minds

Hooked nose

{♡} personal

- he'd look beautiful w one

Incorrect Quotes

Actor au question: Yandere Finn?

Tummy ache

Au

{♡} personal

- nepotism fucks over Faust falling in love

Faust things

{♡} personal

- teehee Faust brainrot

Gacha luck

{♡} personal

- Are you a gambling man!??!

Hatsune Miku

{♡} personal

- MIKU MIKU BEAM!!

Role play partner

{♡} personal

- YOUR MY OLD ROLE-PLAYING PARTNER!?!?

Shit talking couple <3

{♡} personal

- shit talking w your babe is amazing really

Sims

{♡} personal

- 100% a Sims girly

Talking shit in Overwatch voice chats (lil rant on my side)

{♡} personal

- Faust shit talks

Don't talk to me or my child

{♡} requested

- Rook WILL kill you.

Planning a birthday surprise hc

{♡} requested

- Auron plans something big!

Puffed up

{♡} requested

- Rook, annoyed puffed their cheeks angrily. Sadly that didn't work on Auron.

When world's collide-

{♡} ask

- So Rook and hunter swapped...how would the Auron's take it?

Theme song

{♡} reblog

- LITERALLY HIS THEME SONG WDYM

Jessica and Roger Rabbit

{♡} personal

- literally their dynamic

Vampire Rook

{♡} personal

- Give Rook the vampire and see Auron lose it

Weird kid allegations

{♡} personal

- he will NEVER beat them.

Demolishing a keyboard

{♡} personal

- FAST AS FUCK BOI

Dark romance novels

{♡} personal

- ....wanna recreate the sex scenes-

Bite his arm and hands

{♡} personal

- NOM NOM NOM

Social media thirst

{♡} personal

- NO LUBE. NO PROTECTION, ALL NIGHT, ALL DAY, FROM THE KITCHEN FLOOR TO THE TOILET SEAT-

Clowning Auron's face

{♡} reblog

- could Auron kill me? Yes. Will I keep clowning him? Also yes.

Rook hacks Auron's social media

{♡} personal

- fuckin w his social media bc why not

Nasty Lustful Tango

{♡} personal

-I wanna dance w hiimm

Incorrect Quotes

Look good

50 shades wannabe nerd

Actor au question: anything break?

Auron's fault...

And bricked!

Personal Grill

{♡} personal

- What if he could be a grill almost?

Man handling

{♡} personal

- MAN HANDLE ME PLEASE ONE CHANCE-

Incorrect Quotes

Tucked in

Chimichanga stand

Ordained minister

Boo scaring the boys

{♡} ask

- teehee boo scaring their boys

Art!!

{♡} my art

- my art :D

Crossovers

{♡} personal

- more anime cross overs :D

Good Omens

{♡} personal

- I LOVE GOOD OMENS!!

Seth in a dress...

{♡} personal

- PRETTY SETH PRETTY SETH

YV boys with kisses on them <33

{♡} personal

- I can't draw men </3

OC boo idea

{♡} personal

- ex biker?, tatted?, and strong? Damn mf got a type

Who I think YV boys would main on Overwatch

{♡} personal

- mains the boys would be

What dances would the YV boys do?

{♡} personal

- dance styles for the boys!

CRACKSHIPS <33

{♡} personal

- my prized post ngl

Twitter PT11 PT12

Incorrect Quotes (Multi character):

What could have happened

Actor Au

How bittersweet chp3 ep10 went basically

Wonderful experience

Caring is giving a pinecone. On a stick

[rev-xce]

i dont have anything to say anymore im just foaming at the mouth about ur au and ur art like the rendering is SO SO GOOD?? also hell yes drawing sharp corners n angles is so mmmm good HJKGTLDHSGKLGF but also you have made me and my friend add "pookie" as a cringe nickname moon calls sig (i already have her call him "doll" as a pet name too) because you used it in one of ur posts and idk why but moon just seems like the type of girl to say the most cringe shit imaginable with complete sincerity and sig cannot help but melt at it also if you wanna use this as an excuse to lore dump more go ahead [grabby hands]

i've never been prouder of making somebody rabid :))

HHGRRR SHARP ANGULAR DANGEROUS OBJECTS I LOVE!!! Also pookie is absolutely the best subsitute for babygirl or any other sweetheart names just cuz!!! MOON WOULD ABSOLUTELY BE KILLING THE WHOLE GRP WITH HER SAYING THE CRINGIEST PETNAMES FOR SIG OMG

I am,,, stealing that headcanon ;)

Oho? A opportunity? I'll give you more Moon content then :)))

Moon isn't always aggressive in her combative body. There are some moments of clarity where her brain tries to fight against the red rot influence, Pebbles would be lucky if Moon even holds back once against him in her current state 🤭

But otherwise, yea he is so FUCKED

[one0p1nk]

What do you love the most about your current friends group?

//No order, I'm mentioning people from mundo server and some other servers btw

Beth -> I love my wife's gentle, softspoken nature. I hope Bethy can feel confident enough to tell me about almost anything because talking with her in the chat is always a blessing to me and i really want her to know that. It was never awkward when I'm with her even when she doesn't speak or not. I love her fav ships they're always so sweet/ih/not sure if it should be pun intended JDBDBDB🥰

Klai -> My henchwoman is incredible, idk but I feel like she has a lot of patience too when interacting with me--- always so understanding with everyone and would try her best to make everyone feel better despite of her own struggles. She's very generous, yes, and how she likes keeping up silly ramblings with me about worlds is what I mostly adore about her. Even solsticea has a special spot in my heart 🥺

Joe -> I love joey/p. They feed me art, they're my supportive dogboy/ih, and I'm glad they existed or else communion and doomed yaoi wouldn't have been in my dictionary DJHDDHDB in other words, I love their humor and friendliness makes me wanna keep them like a pocket friend/ih

Yami -> I love her vibes, I love her art, I love her art streams, I love when I talk to her, and I love her bc she's my angelfish/p🥰 She helps me walk away from dangers that try to reach me sometimes, is fun when she brings me to McDonalds while at it sniffles;;; thanks to her I'm very absorbed to ToD sometimes and still do that, how long was it since HDDBFBFB

Tae -> some of Shrimpy's humor stuck into me/ih and I love hearing her talk. Her voice is very calming to me that it makes me feel quite safe, it really sounds very friendly....;;; Her voice is also iconic i would wish to watch it in a lot of kinds of anime genres no matter if is piece of life or horror, it's incredible the way she narrates or voice acts dialogues in games on stream dhfbfbffb

Sleepy -> I like her art pieces. I want to draw as fast as her but I'd rather polish quality over time in my case since art styles really vary JDBFFBB- I like the moments when she’s glad to try and help people, and try to stay cheerful sometimes despite of the pressure she has to experience at times. I hope in the future these can flourish well and that she gets to achieve her goals somehow no matter how bumpy the road can be for her.

Lupi -> Lupita is supportive and wouldn't hurt me in any form;; despite that I don't see her as often as the others, I feel safe around her like I've never seeing her judge me before or is probably because I don't remember sobs;;; but yeah, she brings good vibes when we're hanging out heheheheh

Al -> I love Al/p for listening to me about Hana's reversed harem stuff and trying to learn dyanthus lore from me back at the lore wide discord server/ih. I love the times we gush over fnaf together too <3/ih and also freaking like how for some reason I imagine you as a squishy entity idk why/lh

Emma -> I love Emma and Tatya and Bartholomew and Georgie and everytime we interact really I love you/p, she has such great charisma and attitude it boosts my confidence and self-esteem a bit sometimes djnnddn saranghae pookie 🫶🌸

Fifi -> Fifita, my precious rat friend and portable incinerator room/hj, I thank her for letting me love and ship her blorbos and draw them JDDBBD her art makes me smile a lot even when she draws her scrunkles, Dreams of delirium is chef's kiss;;;

Anwyll -> Anwy is a new friend I just met, and I'm already holding hands gently with him/p. I love how we have this mutual agreement about pretty blonde boys BDDBFBFBFB--- I love their blorbos too, especially Nevi(hes so pretty i like making Lau rizz him a bit/ih) and Edvin (I love farmers, I think they're so neat as heck)

Mango -> He has a nice sense of humor, I'll take that---/ih I love his art, the way he drew my goofy son once, and how he named almost everyone in dinosaur parody(I'm still sobbing from that JDBDBDB;;) and he's nice to talk with when he's not sus and... confusing, I don't understand what he says sometimes but its best to not know 🤔😊/lh

Kory -> I nearly lost my friend, Korita. It could have been one of my greatest regrets 😔 but anyway, I love her blorbos, but what I mostly love is her been spoody as usual and just taking every problem like a tough one(she's trying her best okay/lh). A nice spooder. 🥺/pos

Mandika -> I get excited when talking to Mandita, it's either neat or concerning/pos. But nonetheless I like receiving these rare art requests from her, it's my excuse to laugh and cry internally at the same time as I enjoy seeing her giggles and go silly JDDBBFFB

Clown -> I love payasito's craziness, that's a very Clown thing to do- even if I can be skeptical when she’s acting 'normal' around their spouse Law sometimes/ih/j

Orange -> magical girl Naranja save me magical girl Naranja;;; SHES TECHNICALLY AN ORANGE!!! A POG, GOOD VIBES ORANGE;; sobs sobs 😭✨️ I love her ideas and her art feels like a cool fresco snacks, and her blorbos are so well designed and written I can distinguished them well JDBFNFN

Nakki -> My brother Nakki is not often around lately, but I appreciate the times he has the patience to teach me and help me with Minecraft/lh. I love his pink lemonade recipe even tho I feel like the way he makes it will be the one overuling my amateur lemonade skills anyway JDBFNFB

Skye -> turns out Skye is held dead and half alive??? But well I love them anyway, still o' glorious in my heart/p. They're the perfect definition of a laid back, modest pookie/ih

Sam -> I love Samito's writings and drawings they make me giggle and kick my feet hehehehehe.... and I recently discovered his Gepard rp interpretation--- I have mixed feelings but at least leaning positive because I love a good humor Geoard once in a while JFBFBGN they really inspired me to ship Orpehmi more often and ngl, it feels nice to covert into it/ih

I feel like I have more friends I haven't mentioned, but just so you know to all of them. I'm glad I've met you guys, you've helped me learn new things and understand from the lessons I have to take myself better with your support, understanding, and patience despite my occasional autistic awkwardness.🥰/lh

[sixosix]

haiii pookie snukums muah muah cherry pie :3 idk i just wanna give thoughts (and maybe recieve some from u too 👉👈) from the new trailer bc im bored and i feel like im being toasted alive... mainit

FREMI💀 no bc he looks like he can be blown away from a lil breeze. like a sneeze can turn him into dust💀 BUT BRO BLOCKED A WHOLE ASS HIT FROM ARLECCHINO WHILE ALSO HOLDING LIKE A 30 KILO CLAYMORE💥 HOW BUFF IS HEEEEE😭 (lyney at the side like a damsel)

speaking of lyney,,,,i saw somewhere, idk if its canon or not, but i read that lyney is canonically weak. not weak as in "cannot fight", more like, "brains over brawn" type of weak. his main strength comes from his big fat brain and i think thats hot (lyney as brains, thawed!mc as brawns. an unstoppable duo if i do say so myself)

Im just gonna say, arlecchino DID NOT MISS❗❗ when she chose lyney as the successor. bc think about it, the house's main objective is to adopt kids to make them into soldiers(or other stuff). so why are the children not doing anything about it? because they are blinded by father's "love". they've been provided a home and a family that they can love, ofc theyre going to do whatever they can to repay her kindness. i say "blinded by love" bc its most probably not genuine. arlecchino will only do things if it benefits her. so, in short, the children are being decieved into loyalty and submission.

and what is one of lyney's biggest/ most prominent trait? being able to decieve others very easily. he's a magician ffs😭😭 (this is probably why thawed!mc is hesitant/ doesnt believe him whenever he does something bc she knows that its probably not genuine. and bc of this, they're both miserable.💀)

like, he may not be physically strong, but that brain and charisma can bring you to your end in a snap. and that hot.

i only heard childe's voice but i feel like he's important to the lore. my manz been to 3 countries, and hes hasnt retrieve a single (1) gnosis😭 pack up boy ur no harbinger all u do is look pretty and get your ass handed to u THRICE😭 (i love him tho muah)

WIDNTRACE omg windtrce FINALLYY😭😭uueuedhhsuwh

ur so cool bc i just saw the ask asking if theres thawed update tmrw, and ur gonna do RESEARCH???? this is why i love u. marry me. pookie idc how long it takes, everything u write is so delicious. quality over quantity is so real ily. and i dont want thawed to end so soon....

i think thats all of my brain barf today. congrats again on 5k!!! ily muah♥️

HI AKAAGIIIII i did. i did see. i watched it from zy0xs livestream. first of all, ARLECCHINO IS SOOO COOL her presence… unmatched….. the lore ?! im so excited as a player and as a thawed writer!!!!

I KNOW FREMINET WAS INSANE THERE HAHAHAH the way he didnt fall back.. King. king behavior. LYNEY TOOOO HELLOOO THE LORE BOMBBB the throwback to him being chosen as the next King AAAAAA my brain was going overdrive (thawed!mc being brawns shes so stupid i love her)

and yes!! your thoughts on lyney and arlecchino are so true. arlecchino picking lyney makes sense in her perspective but the fact that lyney doesnt want to do it says so much about his character! lyney is such a well written character im so in love

i was so surprised to hear childes voice i was like oh gosh the thawed is writing itself?????

AND YESSS RESEARCH AAA i rlly rlly want to wait and see what the House lore is all about before i write thawed because i think i could really use it. not only for ideas but for keeping it feel like it could easily be an actual genshin quest.. TY AHAHHAA ILY TOO we shall have a spring wedding, like taht post about artists asking permission to draw fanart from writers (thats me)

[lexyscross]

Kirsch family headcanons! 💕

Since Radio Silence wanna play tricky, let’s just say that their first names are all the same, and their family name is Kirsch. I’m also assuming their personalities were all genuine and not just acts they put on. (Except for Ethan; I think his Shy Awkward Bean personality was probably an act. I think was probably likely a little douce canoe. (*affectionate) But, mostly, the only mentions here of him being shy or meek are the childhood headcanons, so it stills works.)

Ethan killed their mom.

Okay? Let’s go!

Richie is eldest (obviously), 7 years older, to be exact. Quinn and Ethan are twins; Quinn is older by 6 minutes. (Ethan is soooooo Baby Brother coded!)

Richie’s, Quinn’s, and Ethan’s nicknames from their parents as babies/little kids were “Buddy,” “Pretty Girl,” and “Pookie Bear,” respectively. (And they still fit the vibes when they grew up. 🥺)

The twins learned how to ride bikes at 5 or 6 years old. Quinn, with all of her boldness and confidence, took to it easily, but Ethan (having seen Quinn fall a couple of times, but get right back up) was scared. Quinn teased him for it, telling him to stop being a baby. Richie encouraged him, telling him that he wouldn’t let him fall and holding on at first until Ethan felt safe enough for Richie to let go.

They are absolutely one of those families that wear matching Christmas pajamas.

Wayne often worked late (obviously, he’s a detective), and their mother had... some career that required her to work late every now and then, so Richie sometimes had to babysit Quinn and Ethan. Whenever this happened, they would have a Stab marathon (even though their parents told him not to show the kids those movies). Quinn liked them almost immediately; for Ethan, it took 2 or 3 marathons for him to warm up to them.

Richie and Ethan are both autistic, but only Richie was diagnosed because with him it was more “apparent,” with his hyperfixations and all. Everyone just thought Ethan was shy and sensitive. This contributed to Wayne’s spoiling of Richie’s Stab obsession; he wanted to be supportive of his son’s interest (even though his wife told him it was unhealthy to indulge such a morbid fascination), but he took it too far. 🥺

Quinn has ADHD. She wasn’t diagnosed until she was 17.

Being that he’s 7 years older than them, Quinn and Ethan sort of hero worshipped Richie.

Richie loved his baby siblings, and he’d stab a bitch for them, but he was also constantly annoyed by them and how much they wanted to be around him. And they were often trying to get into his YouTube videos, trying to jump in view of the camera (especially Quinn), which drove him nuts. (”MOM! DAD! MAKE THEM GET OUT OF MY ROOM!”)

The kids sometimes helped Richie with his fan-films. But Richie was very... fastidious when it came to his art, so he wouldn’t really let them do much; it was more like letting them hand him props and stuff like that. But once they got older, he allowed them to actually be in the movies... as victims, of course.

Ethan liked looking over Richie’s shoulder (to Richie’s annoyance) while he’d draw. It started out as a baby brother shadowing his big brother, but eventually he started liking the violence and the gore of it.

They’re all so protective of each other, but Richie and Quinn also low-key bully Ethan; he’s the shy one, and the baby of the family, so of course they do. (🖤)

Once, when Richie was 13 and Ethan was 6, Richie play-smacked Ethan on the head just a bit too hard; Ethan starts WAILING, full screaming sobs, and Richie panics, not wanting to get in trouble. He starts trying to shush Ethan and rubs his head, “Shh, shh, stop crying. You’re okay! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, stop crying!!” He lost his Stab privileges for a week.

Cute childhood pictures of little Richie holding his baby siblings. 🥺 Like if you feel like chewing on glass. 🙂

When they were 7, some kid pushed Ethan on the playground at school and was picking on him, so Quinn jumped on this kid and started decking him. A teacher pulled her off of him, called the parents, and Wayne had to come to the school. Quinn told him what happened, and said, “Daddy, you say we have to look out for each other.” He acted upset with her in front of the principal and fake lectured her, but once they got to the car, he told her, “That’s my girl!” No one fucks with their family.

When Quinn and Ethan were born, Quinn (being the elder twin) screamed until Ethan was finally out and their mother held them together. She has always been a protective sister!

All of them were upset when Richie told them he was moving to California (they’re from the Midwest, so that’s way across the country), but Quinn especially, who yelled at him and then stomped up to her room, slamming the door shut. Ethan just sat on the couch, pouting with his arms crossed, saying nothing. (Richie, of course, knew why he was going, but he couldn’t give them an answer other than that he wanted to, which is probably what hurt the most. It felt like he was just abandoning the family; that he had his own life now and was ready to move on from them.)

Once Richie moved to California, he FaceTimed/Skyped/whatever with them all of the time. Like, almost every day. They certainly texted daily. A lot of memes and stuff like that, especially between Quinn and Richie.

I don’t even- ...I don’t even know how to describe what it was like when they got the news that Richie was murdered and was involved in a killing spree in California. It was...  it was sad is all I know. I imagine they were all home together when they got the news. They were definitely breaking down, mixed with denial. Wayne fell to the floor and sobbed once it hit him; his first baby was gone. Quinn practically had a panic attack right then; in fact, she probably did. And Ethan simply shut down; he just stood there against the wall for about 10 minutes, wordless, showing no reaction, staring at nothing, likely in a state of shock.

Ethan had a bit of a Roman Roy moment at Richie’s funeral. If you know, you know.

Wayne was so deep in his grief that the kids (more so Quinn, the Eldest Daughter™/now Eldest Child™) had to start taking care of him, making sure that he ate and got some sleep.

Quinn and Ethan saw the pictures that Wayne saw of Richie. I have varying theories about this that I enjoy, but all I know is that they saw those pictures. Did Wayne show them the pictures to motivate them? I like to think he tried to keep them from seeing them, but the man was so far gone in his devastation that who’s to say?

Wayne was so sleep-deprived that, when Ethan came to visit him in his office (home office, not at work) before bed one night, standing in the doorway, Wayne accidently called him Richie before realizing and correcting his mistake. He apologized, and Ethan just said it was okay. He wanted to be upset, but he knew it was a simple sleep-deprived mistake; he also knew that it had to be hard for his father to look at him and not see his first son.

Mom/Wife didn't want to talk about Richie after the funeral. She wanted to pretend that he'd never existed. Furthermore, she became cold (or colder, since he sounds like he really hated her in the script) toward Ethan because look at him. How was she supposed to forget her eldest son when her youngest looks and acts so much like him?

When Wayne brought up the revenge idea, and Mrs. Kirsch refused, freaking out and all (as one would do), Ethan knew they had to get rid of her, and he was so angry that she would betray Richie like that. He stormed off to the kitchen, grabbed a large knife, came back to the living room, and just stabbed the shit outta her! All of his rage toward her and about the entire situation just poured out. Quinn and Wayne were in shock. I have no idea how they handled that afterward.

Wayne actually misses his wife, which is why he still wears his wedding ring.

On Richie’s first birthday after his death (which would also end up being the only one they’d be alive for), they “celebrated” with a small chocolate cake (his favorite) and blew out the candles together. 🥺 (Richie is a September baby, to me. A virgo.)

That’s all for now! This took me, like, 3 months to finish. 😩

[kelly-bopbou]

In reference to my previous post about the whole Transforms: Bumblebee Movies and The Rise of the Beast, I will be writing more or at least sharing more. You guys can use the ideas cause they will stay here and rot cause writing is stressful at times but just like add me real quick so I can I read it and see the masterpiece.

Alright so Charlie is 18, Noah is early twenties? I will put it at 22 or 23. Cade is around early thirties I guess? Not sure.

Now I can imagine Cade coming to the city as a mechanic and opening up shop, and unknowingly hiring two people who have a connection to the other Autobots which is Charlie( she came to find work and to reunite with Bee, since he left)and Noah( as much as he is a agent now. He still wants something more permanent and he likes to keep his hands busy). Now the ages in this are obviously different like how Charlie is now 21, Noah is 25 and Cade is 36.

Cade hires them and is very impressed with their way around cars and he comes to care for them. For Noah he is like a father figure and loves how Cade is overprotective but willing to (reluctantly) listen to his reasoning , he leaves Kris in the Autoshop sometimes cause he knows Cade will be chill with the kid. For Charlie he is like her third dad but more reckless but that makes her feel not like an idiot. He reassures her in his actions that mistakes and accidents do and will happen it’s just how u approach them is the kicker.

Charlie and Noah have a sort of friends with benefits relationship but not. For them the benefits are coming over to each other’s houses and chilling with each other. Charlie smokes but is trying to quit and Noah doesn’t smoke at all cause of Kris but to him the smell of Nicotine smells nice on her. They both are often seen in the Auto shop just chilling and arguing about what part is best for what car, Cade likes to watch them argue. Charlie will be closed off at times about certain things so Noah just holds her hand and leans his head on hers and just to let her know he is there for her. She does the same thing but she normally makes small drawings on his skin to soothe him. The smell of markers, motor oil(which they both smell like) , Nicotine and old records soothe him.

Charlie got into racing when she turned 19. She did amateur racing and she knows how to drift and she makes it her mission to teach Noah. Noah of course is skeptical cause Yh he is poc so he don’t wanna get in trouble with the law. She still teaches him and he is better at it than her. And y’all know that scene in Fast and Furious where Brian is doing the whole driving but not looking at the road thing ? Yh he does that but instead of it being romantic it’s just shows how much they trust each other to not crash them and normally since they trust each other so much Charlie would normally swerve the car either backwards while they still do the whole staring but looking at the road thing, drift the car effortlessly while still holding each other’s gaze or swerve the car to a stop.

Cade witnessed that once and scolded them hard for it. Those kids drive his ass crazy and it shows cause not even Tessa have him this much gray hairs but he is no better than cause will they can look out the corner of their eyes. His gaze is normally focused on the stirring wheel where the Autobots symbol would be and be drifting the transportation machine cause I will be drifting in a truck , car or anything on the ground that is not a bike and do that shit so smooth and clean that u good have sworn yo and down he was watching the road. But no he just missing his pookie Optimus Prime.

Bee and Mirage love that their respective partners can drive they just hate when the do the stare at each other but don’t look at road thing. Optimus feels like he ages when Cade does it but he likes when he does cause it is very intimate

Ok thanks for coming to my Ted talk. I am your host Kelly but u may call my Pen, Penny, or whichever you prefer loves bye

[foxilayde]

Scout!! Omgksdfjdkg I looooove how much you love OTTR Leto and I was absolutely melting at this soft domestic, sweet holiday snugglefest!!!

Full review below the cut

You’re so right, Thanksgiving is very unsexy, but Leto can make anything hot and mouthwatering tbh!

I love that Leto is cooking shirtless and the way he grabs readers hand with the “what’d I say?” Aksjdfksdj!! Hes soooo daddy 😫 like “you’ll spoil your appetite” unfghfdfhh

ALL THE MENTIONS OF THE RINGS YES OMGGG

“As if it wasn’t swinging in your face hours ago” ONG ASKDJFASD

The sensory descriptions of his cashmere sweaters embedded with his cologne!!! (I hc this as Versace Dylan Blue or Versace Eros) uuuughghgh i can just smellll it! And the crispness of the closet with the carpeted floors on your bare feet and the clack of wooden hangers as you pick your fave of his to wear I’M YEARNING I WANNA WEAR HIS SWEATER

“Ring adorned hands on bare knees” Scout im in pain actually bc I NEED THIS

“The apron around his waist” PLEASE HE’S PERFECT

HE’S S O DOMESTIC!!

EEEP he wanted to wear the sweater!!!

He wants to bring all the food to the table himselffff please i love himmm and how he treats his lady like a queen

When he kisses reader’s hand at the table!!

“Even that feels oddly domestic, getting thoroughly fucked and used in the bed you make every morning” < I just loveee that line!

He’s eating left handed just so he can hold your hand while eating?! He’s a big fucking softie-ass pookie bear anD I LOVE HIM

His HANDS “Capable of stroking your hair and breaking a man’s nose” <THATS HIM IN A FEW WORDS, YEP

“Leto has settled one of his ring adorned hands on your shoulder and is gently moving his fingers back and forth, drawing small circles and driving you insane” SCOUT I AM GOING INSANE TBH i wanna be shoulder-stroked with Leto’s lazy ring-adorned hands PLSSS. That whole paragraph is so accurate and so sweet actually and sums the devotion for him allllll up!!

All the cuddling descriptions IM MELTINGGG

Bro i want him to carry me upstairs and tuck me in and put on my pajamas and wipe my makeup off before going outside for a smoke WTFFF

IM SCREAMING AT THIS POINT he carries reader to eat pumpkin pie and she swipes whipped cream on his nose!!! They’re so precious!!

Scout this was so beautifully done and thinking back i also loved that line about him turning on the light after the movie, “turning your house into just another one of a hundred from an overhead view” ITS ALL SO COZY AND LOVELY AND IM GOING TO BE DAYDREAMING ALL THANKSGIVING ABOUT THIS NOWWW 💚

Tysm for writing and sharing 💚

might as well be drunk in love

Pairing: OTTR!Leto x fem!reader

Warnings: mentions of doing coke, vaguely sexual but no smut

Word Count: 3.9k

Author’s Note: happy thanksgiving! I think it’s a jank holiday but I’m thankful for all y’all and especially @foxilayde who I love and who lets me come barging into the wonderful world she made (go read Off To The Races if you haven’t already)

Thanksgiving is the un-sexiest of all holidays. Halloween has so many opportunities for sex amid all the blood and gore, Christmas and New Years have their own brand of swanky sex appeal, and Valentine’s Day is a no brainer. There’s just something about turkeys and thick sweaters and conversations with family members you’d rather not be having that ruin any and all opportunities to be a little slutty.

It’s been your goal, your one true desire in life, to make Thanksgiving sexy, and you think you’ve finally accomplished that as you dangle your legs from the kitchen counter, skin warmed from the sun and a roll dangling from your fingers, taken from the plate Leto had just asked you not to touch. You shift a little, legs swinging as you try and unstick your bare skin from the countertop as your sweat begins to dry.

As much as you love fall and the weather that comes with it, there’s something magical about being able to wear a bikini and lay out in the sun hours before Thanksgiving dinner. Sure, you always plead with Leto to turn up the air conditioning so you can wear all your sweaters and cozy clothes, but you like having the option of enjoying the Southern California sun or bundling up and pretending like it’s chilly outside.

Leto comes back into view, and you quickly swallow the rest of your roll, as if he won’t be able to tell what you’ve done. Still, you give him your sweetest smile and are rewarded with a kiss before he continues back to the stove, putting in all the work of cooking your Thanksgiving dinner while you’d been lounging in the sun. He loves to cook, though, and as much as you’d love to help, you’re sure everything will go much smoother if you steer clear of the stove. You’ll happily taste test anything he needs, and you sneak another roll from the dish as you hop off the counter.

“I’m going to change,” you announce, squishing the bread in your hand as you press a kiss to the back of his bare shoulder, but Leto’s quick, turning around and capturing you with his strong arms wrapped around your waist.

“What’d I say?” He asks, opening your palm to reveal the squashed piece of bread. You just smile, knowing you can get away with anything if he’s in a good mood and you flash that smile at him, popping the bread into his mouth for good measure.

“We could never eat all that anyway,” you counter as his hands drift lower, to the ties on the sides of your bottoms, and your eyes drift over to the full pile of rolls, just for the two of you.

“Go get dressed, you’re distracting me,” he says as if he’s not caging you in with his arms, as if you can’t feel the cool metal of his rings on your bare skin, as if his arms aren’t all out on display because he claimed the kitchen was too hot for a sweater, as if he isn’t growing out his beard for the colder months.

Really, if anyone’s a distraction, it’s him. It’s always him, and that infallible confidence he radiates in any situation, and that stupid chain he wears every day as if it wasn’t swinging in your face mere hours ago. It’s worse when he’s shirtless, or when he’s in one of his many ribbed tanks like he is now, because then all you can do is sit and stare at him, your brain shut off completely until he finishes getting dressed.

Still, you head back towards your bedroom to get dressed, and not because Leto told you to but because he cranks the AC, just as you’d asked him to, and you’re starting to feel like a human popsicle with so much exposed skin. Ignoring your own side of the large walk-in closet, you turn immediately towards Leto’s collection of warm cashmere, searching through the sweaters for your very favorite and immediately lifting it to your nose, inhaling the scent of his cologne that seems to cling to everything he wears, even after it’s been washed.

Slipping off your bikini top and tugging the sweater over your head, you stand bare legged, facing your side of the closet now and trying to figure out what to wear. Despite the fall ambience inside of your house, it’s still rather warm outside, even as your skin has now lost the heat it gathered from the sun, and you’re not sure how you’re supposed to dress. Today’s supposed to be casual, but nothing ever is with Leto and his designer furniture and four course meals, and you know he’d be happy with you in sweats or nothing at all, but you want to look nice for him.

Settling on a skirt with enough give so you can enjoy your dinner without worrying about bloating, you slip on a nicer pair of panties underneath your skirt, loving the instant surge of confidence you get. Padding back downstairs, you head to the kitchen to be near Leto, and to have him feed you off the spoon as he cooks. You hop back onto your spot on the counter, bare legs swinging, and admire the sight of your man at work, with the sounds of the Macy’s Parade filtering in from the living room.

“We should watch a Christmas movie later,” you say, more to alert him of your presence than anything, because you know he gets so focused when he’s in the kitchen it’s like nothing else exists, and the last thing you want is for him to startle when he sees you and drop a knife on his foot so then you have a spend Thanksgiving in the emergency room.

“Hm,” he hums, acknowledging your presence and your statement and waiting for you to say more as he stirs one of the many pots on the stove.

“Because, you know, there're really no Thanksgiving movies, and really who would want to watch one anyway,” you give a little shudder for dramatic effect even though Leto’s back is turned to you.

“Whatever you want,” he says, turning towards you and settling his ring adorned hands on your bare knees, “as long as you stop trying to steal all the bread before dinner.” You grin, knowing he’d let you pick the movie no matter what you did, and you lean forward to kiss him, his sturdy grip moving to your waist to keep you from falling forward off the counter.

It was meant to be a little kiss, really, just a quick I love you before you let him get back to cooking, but then his hands squeeze at your waist and your own hands move to his hair, to the longer curls now that he’s decided to grow them out of winter, and you can’t help the way you pull and tug and bring him closer, needing him more than oxygen and so focused on him that you forget your desire not to plummet off the countertop. You know he’d never let you fall, not even as he groans and pulls away, even as you chase after him.

“I’m gonna burn the fucking house down,” he says, giving your waist one last squeeze before he turns back to the stove and you try not to lose your mind. The afternoon passes in the same fashion, with Leto cooking and bringing over something for you to taste every few minutes while you try your best to distract him, if only to delight in the way he pulls away with a look that says he’d rather do the opposite.

“Go set the table,” he tells you, using his thumb to wipe away a bit of pasta sauce that was stuck to the corner of your mouth and the only reason you didn’t stick your tongue out to lick it away was because he was already heading back to the stove, turning off burners and opening up the oven, giving you no choice but to hop down off the counter and head for the silverware.

“Are you gonna change?” You ask, pausing in your digging for your favorite napkins to let your eyes rove up and down his body, not caring at all if he stays exactly how he is. His pants hug him perfectly, as they always do, and the white tank he’s wearing shows off his perfectly sculpted arms in a way that makes you want to drool. Even the apron wrapped around his waist makes you a little crazy, even though you’d never admit it makes you a tad bit sad when he takes it off.

Pressing a kiss to the side of your head, he goes off to get dressed, and you’re not sure if he’s realized or not that you’re already wearing his favorite sweater. You finish setting the table, just two places side by side at the large dining table, and you set about lighting all the candles you’d set up earlier, turning the empty atmosphere into something more cozy, more intimate.

Hearing him come down the stairs, you put away the lighter and search for the wine, the bottle you’d bought specifically for today even though typically neither of you are wine drinkers, it had just seemed like the right thing to do. If this was two years ago, last year even, he would have taken a bump while getting dressed and come downstairs with blown pupils and fucked you against the table after dinner, or during dinner.

It wasn’t that you had a holier-than-thou attitude or anything like that, or even that you wouldn’t have accepted his offer for your own bump from the vial he always keeps tucked away safely in his pocket, just in case, but sometimes you just wanted to have a nice evening, wanted to pretend that you were one of the regular, boring women who lived on your street and pretend not to notice their husbands habit as long as their platinum cards still work.

Tonight, though, Leto comes downstairs and presses himself against you, caging you against the counter as you struggle with opening the wine.

“The table looks nice,” he whispers against the skin of your neck, placing a delicate kiss there as he takes the bottle from your hands and opens it with ease. He steps away, even though you wish he wouldn’t, and finds the nice wine glasses you barely ever use.

“You know, I was looking for that sweater,” he says with a teasing tilt to his voice as he pours, taking both glasses and leading you to the table.

“I didn’t know you wanted to wear it,” you grin, knowing you both know that’s a lie, but you had gotten dressed first and figured it was fair game. He’s offered to buy you your own a few weeks back, but it wouldn’t be the same, wouldn’t smell like him and feel like he’s always wrapped around you, so you steal it and he pretends that it irritates him even though you know deep down he loves how much you love him, enough to take his expensive sweaters just to lounge around in.

The TV’s still playing whatever follows the parade, neither of you caring enough to walk over to the living room to turn it off. It adds ambience, you suppose, creates the illusion that there are more than two people here, the voices from the screen filling the space now that the stove and oven have been turned off. You can barely hear it from the dining room, but you really don’t mind it, and it’s always practically impossible for you to focus on anything other than Leto anyway.

After setting down both of the wine glasses and urging you into your seat, Leto had turned right back into the kitchen to start bringing the food to the table. He did it by himself, two or three dishes at a time, while ignoring any and all offers of your help, simply pressing a kiss wherever he could reach any time he walked past. You sip at your wine, moving around plates and bowls to make more room on the large table, unable to do what you’re told even when it’s to relax.

By the time Leto finally sits down, bringing with him the bread you’ve been stealing all morning, most of your absurdly large dining room table is full of food, an unbelievable amount of dishes for two people. There are favorites from your childhood and his, Leto having spent the weeks leading up to today practicing in the kitchen because he’ll be damned if he doesn’t make everything absolutely perfect. You know he could hire someone, hire a hundred someones just to make your dinner and not even bat an eye or make a dent in his money, but he likes being in the kitchen, likes being able to provide for you in every way he possibly can.

“Everything looks perfect,” you state the obvious when you see his sharp eyes scanning the table as if something’s missing, and you squeeze his hand where it rests next to yours. He smiles at you, flips his hand to grab hold of yours and bring it up for a kiss, gentle but setting fire to your whole body. It makes your heart twinge in a curious sort of way, like it can’t possibly process the tenderness of the action despite it not being all that out of the ordinary.

This isn’t your first Thanksgiving you’ve spent with Leto, but this is the first one with mountains of food and stolen sweaters and a hand on your knee that isn’t prodding for more. If this was a year ago, you would’ve been naked by now, fucked against the counter, eaten your dinner standing up before spending the foreseeable future in bed. There are fairly high odds that you’ll end up fucking on the couch instead of watching the first Christmas movie of the season or that the night’ll end with you fisting the expensive sheets you’d picked out last month, but even that feels oddly domestic, getting thoroughly fucked and used in the bed you make every morning.

“Hey,” Leto pulls you out of your self-reflection, his voice all soft and velvety in the way only you get to hear, in the way that still makes your heart melt a little, “eat your dinner.” You hadn’t even noticed that the hand that wasn’t still intertwined with yours had begun to scoop food onto his plate, that you were falling behind and sitting still, despite your many dramatic complaints of being starving for the past few hours.

Now, though, you pile your plate with all of your favorites, the serving dishes placed conveniently close to you, and the moan that escapes you with your first bite of dinner is downright pornograpic, and it’s a little shocking just how often Leto can pull those noises from you, in so many starkly different situations. He doesn’t comment though, just squeezes your hand and continues to eat, making no comments on the struggle of eating with his non-dominant hand.

The conversation veers towards light, frilly nonsense, all your decoration plans for the holidays and teasing remarks of the gifts you’d like, as if Leto wouldn’t buy you anything you wanted any day of the week. It’s pleasant, to pretend that nothing exists beyond the warm glow of your table, beyond the warmth of his hand in yours and the food in your belly, even though you know that come tomorrow, you’ll be left alone and in the dark about Leto’s dealings. Even though that’s the way you both prefer your lives to be, it’s nice to not need to worry about what he’s up to, even just for a day.

Once you’ve both finished eating, you start clearing the table before Leto can tell you to stop, because as much as you love being taken care of, you hate feeling useless, and you know that both of you cleaning together will make the chore go faster so the rest of your evening spent on the couch can begin. He tries to tell you to sit down, pushing a wine glass into your hand, but you simply place it on the counter and continue to put away all of the leftovers while wondering out loud just how long it’ll take the two of you to finish them.

Leto takes care of the dishes and doesn’t even bother to remove his rings, and it’s like he’s taunting you with the way they shimmer in the late afternoon sunlight. His hands are strong, thick fingers that should be rougher than they actually are, connected to hands that are duly capable of stroking your hair and breaking a man’s nose. You try not to drool as he dries them, as he picks up his own wine glass that looks positively flimsy in his grip. His other hand finds the small of your back, the heat of it apparent even through your sweater, and leads you out of the kitchen and into the luxuriously decorated living room.

It still looks a little modern and harsh and sharp, but the couch is beyond comfortable and you have big plans for the holiday season, plans that you know Leto will support no matter how many times he sighs dramatically when you cart your bags of expensive decor through the door. You’ll make it feel cozy and festive, and even though he’ll never say it, you can always tell that Leto appreciates your willingness to decorate for the seasons, to make his absurdly large house feel more like a home.

You can’t focus on that now, though, or anything really, because Leto has settled one of his ring adorned hands on your shoulder and is gently moving his fingers back and forth, drawing small circles and driving you insane. Even just the sight of him, of his hand or his beautiful nose or his strong jaw currently hidden beneath his beard, can send you crazy, make you unable to think of anything except for him and you’ve yet to determine if he does it on purpose or not.

Based on his full attention on the large TV screen, you’d say he doesn’t even realize what he’s doing to you. Sometimes it’s clear that he knows exactly the kind of power he holds over you, like when he catches you staring open-mouthed as he comes out of the closet in a new suit or when he joins you outside in one of his many linen shirts with the buttons undone. He knows exactly what he does to you, but now, you think he might just like having a hand on you, feeling you breathing beside him even as your heart ticks up and you try to focus back on the movie Leto had picked out just for you, the movie he complains about every single year but knows how much you love it.

Trying to get comfortable in your skirt that definitely isn’t built for relaxing evenings on the couch, you scooch even closer to him, pressing your side right up against his and feeling his chest fill and deflate with every breath. He’s handsy tonight, in an unusually but not at all uncomfortable unsexual way, like he just wants to know that you’re there. You can always tell when he’s teasing you, when he works you up until you’re spun so thin you can’t do anything but whine and whither around, but he’s not doing that now.

His hand falls from your shoulders and snakes its way under your sweater, resting on your warm stomach, the cool metal of his rings enough to make you shiver. You know he notices by the way he exhales through his nose with a little more force, a not-quite-chuckle that makes you a little crazy. Everything about him makes you a little crazy, sometimes in more ways than one. Now, though, he’s not trying to do that, he’s just resting his hand on your soft skin and feeling the way you inhale and exhale, feeling the little hitches in your breath when he uses his blunt nails to trail up and down near the waistband of your skirt. It’s all subconscious, though, so you try to focus back on the movie and not on all the little things Leto does that makes you want to forget everything else and straddle him.

Using all the restraint you have, you let yourself relax and enjoy the rest of the movie, shocked by the darkness that comes with the black screen as the film ends. Twisting around to glance out the large window, it looks as if it could be the middle of the night, even though you know it’s only late afternoon, with the yellow lights from the windows of other houses on the hill acting like stars or warning lights for airplanes flying too low. Even though you know it’s earlier than you’d typically eat dinner, you feel ready for bed, feel as though just closing your eyes would make you sleep for the next twelve hours.

You know that if you did fall asleep, Leto would carry you upstairs and change you into your disgustingly expensive pajamas and take off your makeup with as much care as he can muster before going out to have one last smoke on the balcony, making sure you’re fast asleep and comfortable before he quietly goes through his own extensive night routine. You don’t fall asleep though, instead stretching out your shoulders as Leto stands to bathe the room in a golden light, turning your house into just another one of a hundred from an overhead view.

“Ready for dessert?” You ask, even though you’re still a little full and choosing to ignore the glint in his eye because you’d been so well behaved the entire day, you won’t be folding now at the slightest hint from him. Maybe you fold a little, though, when you let him hoist you from the couch and carry you into the kitchen with your legs right around his waist, in a position that’s all too familiar for you. Still, he sets you gently on the countertop you’d perched yourself on earlier before turning towards the fridge and sifting through your mountain of leftovers to find the pie you’d been so excited about.

Even though your cooking skills are questionable, you’re able to follow instructions and following a recipe for a pumpkin pie was no different. It’s easier when you have every exact step laid out for you with specific measurements and baking times instead of the follow your heart bullshit that comes with cooking. You’d felt like a little housewife, wearing an apron and baking a pie, even though the apron was Leto’s and you struggled your way through a majority of the baking process, you’re still proud of the way it turned out.

Forgoing plates and knives, Leto sets the pie on the counter next to you and hands you a fork, and you waste no time before scooping up a bite of filling. This, mutilating a pumpkin pie seated on the counter with one of Leto’s warm hands on your knee, feels more intimate than the candlelit dinner you’d shared earlier. It’s easier, being with him like this when there are no expectations, no little voice in your head telling you how you should be standing or talking or laughing.

It feels normal in a way you’re not entirely used to, in a way that used to scare you, but now you embrace it wholeheartedly. You don’t worry about anything as you lean yourself forward to kiss him, except for his reaction when he realizes you’ve swiped whipped cream along that nose you love so much.

[pinkmirth]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ (ch.1 | feenin')

—𝑶𝑵𝑬.

SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT CHAPTER | WK: 2.8K

Frenzied cheers buzzed throughout the raving auditorium, the basketball’s reverberating bounces against the slick court floor adding onto the thrill. This match was nothing but hyped, but in a good way so.

The sports chants of the college goers sounded rather foreign to you, since it wasn’t like you attended Stohess University anyway. The fellow audience around you were at the edge of their seats, hailing their team’s basketball players as the raving shouts began to sound borderline intoxicating. So much so that you couldn’t help but clap along to another school’s anthem.

“Havin’ fun?” Marco questions, the corners of his mouth upturned into a smile that showcased his quirky dimples. You beamed right back at the freckled male, plush lips curved into a grin of your own.

It all seemed trivial, just a friendly collegiate basketball match that your friends Jean and Marco had invited you to free of charge, but it was all the break you needed from your own studies and more.

“Hell yeah I am,” you chuckled in reply, “but you know what’d make it better?”

His doe brown eyes flitted between you and the vibrant box of candy in hand, which was seemingly low in supply after you and him dipped your hands in for a bite a countless number of times.

“A refill on these, yeah?” His claims were just as what you were thinking, earning your brief nod of agreement. Marco subtly shook the snackbox within his hold, the spare pieces left beginning to rattle around with the motion.

“You read my mind, Coco,” you grinned, rising up from your reserved seat with spare cash stuffed into your back pocket. “I’ll be right back, ‘aight?” He sends you a brief smile in compliance.

“Get the sour patch this time!”

“You got sour patch money..?”

He pursed his lips momentarily, unsure as to whether you had been joking or not. “M’just messing ‘round with you, Coco,” you snickered with a teasing grin, slipping a hand into your pocket to retrieve the few bucks. “It’s on me.” Was all you said before making your way through the crowded stands, descending down stair after stair.

“It’s only the first game of the season, and our pride and joy, the Stohess Scouts, are already dominating tonight’s guest competitors!” the commentator boomed through the mic, their voice adding onto the various noises that filled the gymnasium. “We’re calling for a halftime, but let’s keep our fingers crossed that Kirschtein can pull through with a fair amount of two-pointers by the upcoming final quarter—“

The mentioned name of your close friend makes you beam with pride, content that your Jeanie was the star of the show. You set eyes on the brunette from where you stood, who was now making his way to the sidelines for a desperately needed and duly earned swig of water, his light brown hair in a disarray of stray strands fraying out from underneath the simple hairband you’d given him a while back.

You eagerly began to flit down the stands to reach him, striding past the poor row of benched players, from the injured to the water boy.

Jean eventually takes notice of your arrival and instantly beams, subtle puffs of air leaving his agape lips after all the running and dribbling and such that came with game day.

The first thing you do is taunt upon your arrival,“Y’all had better win, Jeanie.”

As always, Jean only smirks. “You doubting that I won’t bring that trophy home, Pookie?” you playfully grimaced and let out a stifled laugh over the somewhat embarrassing nickname— one that you made up when the pair of you were seven, and it's the same one that he’s been holding onto for all these years, even at nineteen.

“Well, I’d be lying if I said you aren’t lookin’ pretty damn promising out there,” your reply is genuine, the soft grin that you display causing Jean to display one of his own. It was an affable, never ending cycle— you’d tease and he’d do it right back, until the both of you would laugh over it and depart with a brief smile.

“M’getting snacks, I’ll be back before the breaktime ends, okay?” Kirschtein briefly nods in compliance, sending a few adjusting tugs to the white basketball sleeve hugging his bicep before departing with the sharp squeak of his shoes sprinting against the court floor.

Once again, you find yourself strolling past every individual seated on the benches. You’re speed-walking alongside them, anticipating to retrieve a couple snacks for you and Marco, until something— Someone catches your eye.

It was brisk and almost too sudden, but flashes of green meet your line of vision. You managed to make out the blur of thick brows, long dark hair having been thrown into the messiest attempted bun, a modest, charming smile, and a pair of turquoise irises that seemingly peered into your own with an intensity that made you take it personal. Yet, you hardly even caught a good glimpse of their face, whoever they were.

You passed by said person a good thirty seconds ago, already pushing your way past the double doors and over to the vending machines stationed along the semi-populated hallway, but that striking gaze was still heavily implanted within your mind.

Hazy green-grey eyes, you recalled, accompanied with them shooting you the briefest grin just as you whisked by. Though, as recent as it was, that was all in the past now.

You glance around to see a decent handful of people here to buy food of their own, being perched at other vending machines. The snack-wielding contrivance before you isn't drawing much attention and doesn’t have an awaiting crowd standing around for a bag of potato chips, so you withdraw the dollars from your back pocket and attempt to straighten them out a bit before inserting them into the slot.

“Wow,”

This sudden breathy gasp from a “random whoever” is something that you take notice of, but it isn’t enough to rip your attention away from your scavenge for Marco’s sour patch. To their dismay, you do nothing but continue with what you came to do. In your opinion, whoever that was had been getting a bit too close for comfort..

Albeit the evident way you choose to ignore, another whistle resounds, along with an unpleasantly suggestive hum. It sounds somewhat louder, and it seems much closer than before. You can’t help but tear your gaze away from slot E7 and look up, since it seems so directed towards you.

You've hardly turned around before being met with the abrupt presence of a stranger uninvitingly looming beside you, the man’s beaming grin seeming sickeningly sweet. Almost too approachable.

“Oh, I’m sorry to pop up out of the blue,” his apologies come out within a chuckle, and as inviting as he attempts to seem, your brows only furrow. “—but you really caught my attention!” He was greatly unfamiliar to you, some white male around your age with shaggy auburn hair and chestnut colored eyes in contrast. Despite his subtle charm, you weren't growing a liking to him and his stupid little smile.

“Oh,” You muse with a dull hum, pursing your glossed lips before releasing them with a slight pop, “Did I really?” His nod is too enthusiastic, and you hardly try to cover up the mug-like expression that overtook your features, eyes grazing across his plain face uninterestedly. You promptly slide the dollars right back into your pocket, “Nice to know. Can you mind your own now?”

“Wait! I'm not meaning to be a bother, but.. I don’t see girls like you around much..” You're instantly encased with a shiver of deep cringe, one that annoyingly scurries up your spine and makes your lip twitch into a vexed glower.

You emitted the most exaggerated huff, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, all the while glancing at the sheen glass of the vending machine to see your own reflection. It was plastered all across your face, yet this dense-ass man still couldn't get it; you were pissed-off.

Great. You internally groan, Another snow roach who thinks I’m exotic.

“I really appreciate how different you look,” Was he really still rambling on, despite knowing damn well that you were growing uncomfortable? Or maybe, he was just an utter dumbass and couldn't take the painfully obvious hints.

“You wanna know what I’d appreciate, hm?” You say sharply, taking a swift inhale through your nose, “If you left me alone.”

Your smooth, placid voice was the first thing that Eren heard when he trotted into the hallway, that of which sounded dulcet and intriguingly accentuated, but more annoyed than anything else. He turns the corner and is met with the sight of a bastard that looked too smug for his own good, and a girl, such a pretty girl, whose melanated skin even found a way to gleam under the shitty fluorescent school lights.

It then clicks in Eren’s mind, briefly but distinctively. You were the person who'd strolled by the bench that he was sitting on earlier. You were also the same one who did a double take upon seeing him, glancing once— No, twice, with those captivating eyes of yours. He remembered the way his leg started to bop along the floor with a newfound excitement that he just couldn't place. Though, more than anything else, Eren recalled that he did the exact same; hold his gaze and grin at the sight of you.

“Ah, but you can spare me a minute more, can’t you?” You respond with the swift roll of your eyes, eliciting an exasperated groan, “Nigga, I said bye.” Eren’s thick, neat brows falter into a furrowed position, looking upon the scenario that was being splayed out before him, which everyone else in that hall was seemingly content with ignoring. It couldn't have only been him that saw that this bastard was relentlessly bothering you, could it?

“Woah, no need to get aggressive,” Eren’s expression contorts into a grimace upon hearing every little word, the tips of his ears red with brewing rage. Despite his matured will to control his daily outburst of emotions, it was safe to say that he'd never exactly gotten past his trial of anger issues since he was a kid.

“Listen, this is my nice way of tellin’ you to fuck off, but I can get aggressive if you want.” Your offer sounds downright threatening, “Do you really want that?”

You’re snappy and direct, and Eren can't deny that he likes that. Though, as much as he's growing fond of your strong will and defensiveness, he knows he can't stand idly by all day, he just can't. Besides, everyone knew well— It was practically Eren Jaeger’s forte to intervene.

The green eyed male eventually begins to make his way towards the scene in the form of subtle limps, being cautious of his ankle sprain as he grows closer, which was the reasoning behind him being benched in the first place.

You were much too preoccupied with that cheeky, unrelenting bastard to notice the way that Eren was gradually coming over, anyway. What could he say? He was a fan of the element of surprise.

You halt in the middle of your opposing rant, growing aware of another’s emerging presence. You're yet again bombarded with somebody else making their way beside you with an act of stealth that you were unknowingly soon to be thankful of.

Before you get the chance to merely peer in their direction, tall, a long haired male clad in the black and grey Stohess basketball uniform is towering alongside you, his toned, burly arm slinking around your shoulder.

This sudden proximity leaves your head spinning in the best way possible, and how could it not? You don’t know a single thing about this alluring stranger, but he’s close, so close, and it gets your heart and mind racing miles in a minute. You were subtly, but instantly enraptured once the weight of his arm rests comfortably upon you.

Eren doesn’t pay the confused male not one glance, but instead tends to you and your own state of delighted shock. “Play it cool, alright? I wanna help.” Your breath instinctively hitches once he leans down to ease out his whispered plan into your ear, flashing you a consoling half smile.

You return a brief nod before dragging your eyes along the male’s face, which looks so much better up close. Your interpretation of his image was more literal and precise than you thought to be; The dark, long tresses that had been pulled back with the aid of a thin elastic scrunchie, his expressively thick brows, pink lips that upturned into a supportive smirk, and those sea-green eyes that left you feeling weak right in the knees.

Albeit Eren’s prior grin, he eventually turns his attention towards the unrelenting man for a second or two. In that moment, his expression speedily grew all the more intense, practically sharper than before, and contorted into something of a scowl. Although, you can tell he’s trying so hard to channel his temper and mask away his revulsion.

“I’ve been, ah.. waiting for you to come back to your seat!” Eren begins to improvise, flashing you a subtle gleam that made it seem as though the pair of you were familiar with each other. “S’been a while since then."

He purses his lips within a pause, nimble fingers draping along your shoulder before shooting you a reassuring squeeze, "Is it ‘cause this bastard is keeping you occupied? He’s bothering you, isn't he?”

You're damn near close to stammering over the words that were bound to leave your mouth. Though, it doesn't take much for you to regain yourself. Your lips fall slightly agape all the while you briskly dragged your line of vision along his charming features, but your response follows after in a quick manner. It was just that you couldn't help how his unnerving gaze left you mesmerized.

“—Yes. Yes he is.” You hum, accompanying the claim with your hands crossing over your chest as you leaned into his grasp, in an attempt to appear convincing. Your confession sounded assured and stern, which was the complete opposite of how girls would act around him.

Eren knew well of the doting effect that he had on females— It was hard to forget when he’d merely ask for a spare pencil and wind up with an unasked phone number in return. Though, he admired the way you saw him as any other person and played along so well.

The brown-haired male scornfully laughs, and just the sound of him leaves you feeling uncomfy, “Whaddya' mean? We were just having a small chat, isn't that right?” Your contorted expression is full-fledged disrespectful, and Eren has to stifle his chuckle over your unsmiling glare and scrunched up nose. Damn, were you entertaining.

“Small chat, huh? Well, it was real one sided..” You voice out an irked murmur, “You're over exaggerating, you just haven’t warmed up to me yet—”

“If I didn’t know any better,” Eren makes a very much intended interruption, “I’d say that she doesn’t want to mingle with a sorry bastard that should leave her alone already.” You note at the subtle flex of Eren’s clenching jaw, signifying the way his already weary patience was running rather thin.

“Bastard—? Wait, who even are you?”

“Who am I, huh?” scoffs the green eyed male alongside you, a twinge of drawled hesitance in his voice. Eren pauses momentarily, only now beginning to realize that his little hero act wasn’t as planned out as he thought to be.

What could he say that would be persuasive enough to get this sorry fucker to leave you alone other than throwing fists unnecessarily? Jaeger’s emerald-hued eyes eventually light up in the dawn of an idea. One that he’s somewhat unsure of, but it’s much better than nothing.

Besides, this plan of his had been set in stone by the very moment he had draped his bare arm around you and shot you that all-too-suggestive smile, so he might as well finish what he started.

Eren’s touch trails downwards swiftly, spreading riveting tingles from your shoulder down to your forearm, then along your wrist, and even past there. His hand is now encasing the left side of your hip as his lithe fingers press into the curve of your supple waist. He takes a light inhale, giving you a light squeeze with his large palm, as though signaling for you to brace yourself over what he was bound to say.

“—I'm her boyfriend.”

—𝑭𝑰𝑵.

[stonecoldjerseyfox]

Jersey on my mind (part 30)

“It’s gonna be a great day.” 

Daryl turns his head from the robin, sitting on the ridge of a roof, further away and that he’s been fixing his gaze on for the past half an hour and observes Rick. His friend lets down his shoulders and relaxes his spine, takes a deep breath and lets himself take in the silent calmness of the morning surrounding them. He’s right. It’s gonna be a beautiful day. 

The breeze hasn’t even bothered to wake up today. It’s the two of them, the robin, who sings his morning song, to announce that a new day has begun, and the walkers. 

“Yeah.” 

“Gotta continue working on the wall.” Rick proclaims, as if to create a to-do list in his head of today’s chores. “Check blueprints, find materials. Gotta go on a run.”

“Great.” Daryl replies and nods at Rick. He’ll get to go, he knows it, and he doesn’t mind. As if he were a tame fox, who no matter how domestic it may seem, constantly needs a certain degree of freedom and nature. But he doesn’t mind returning back here either. Not anymore. “I’ll go.” He continues. “Just tell me whatcha’ need.”

“Yep.” Rick takes another deep breath. “What a day.” 

His sudden discovery of nature, the surroundings and an overbearing serenity hasn’t sprung from nothing. He watched by Carl’s side for days. Didn’t sleep, didn’t eat properly, not until Carl sat up in bed and ate himself. The eye was completely destroyed and had to be removed. Thanks to Denise, Rosita, Tara and Mila, who, thanks to her previous profession as a dental nurse, knew how to sterilize scalpels and tools, as well as use sedatives and anesthetics. Thanks to their care, Carl got better, as did Rick. 

“What time is it?” Rick says. “Seven, or eight?”

“Prolly.” Daryl looks at the sun. He watched it rise, heard the birds wake up. Rick joined him shortly after. “Early.” 

“Ya’ wanna go back to the house?” Rick asks. “Get some rest?” 

“Nah.” 

Rick fixates him with his gaze, very ‘nice cop’-like, yet friendly and somewhat cheeky. 

“When I first met Lori-” Rick says, then smiles faintly, chuckles. “Boy, I was- Couldn’t eat properly. Couldn’t sleep. Like I went around in a haze and just thought ‘bout her.”

Daryl nods a little, smiles very faintly, but inside of his chest, his heart takes a skip. 

Has it been two days, forty-eight hours ago he went downstairs holding hands with Jersey when everyone was eating breakfast at the big table? 

After their escapade in the shower, resulting in soaking clothes that had to sundry at the porch roof, they stayed in the bedroom for the entire day. Juri wasn’t in bed when they came out from the bathroom, holding their soaking wet clothes. The smell of breakfast toasts was enough for Mila to understand that Juri was downstairs. Daryl left late in the afternoon, to join a group that has started to create a temporary barricade at the broken wall. Carol brought a late dinner to the working group. 

“How strange, I think I saw these particular clothes sunbathing on the porch roof earlier.” She said cheekily and bumped his hip, while he took a bite of a sandwich.

“Shut up.” Daryl scoffed softly. 

“Pookie.” Carol grinned and shook her head.

He returned late and when he entered the bedroom again, both Mila and Juri were asleep, spooning each other on the bed surrounded by books, soft toys and cassette tapes. He sat down in the comfortable chair, didn’t feel like waking ‘em up by laying down next to them, where he fell asleep. 

Their presence downstairs the morning after that was a silent, visual proclamation that yeah, it was the two of ‘em now’. Or the three of them, including the kid wedged at Mila’s hip in his pajamas, barely awake, but determined to not skip breakfast. Daryl’s heart pounded harder than ever in his chest as they settled on the ground floor, next to each other in front of the entire Atlanta group at the table. Harder than when he stood in the yard as a child and saw the house, his home, burn down to the ground with his mother in it. But it was different. As if his chest was flooded with a warm, deep sense of pride, a sense of belonging. The group hadn’t, thankfully, made a big scene of the silent announcement, which was as big of a deal to him as if he’d announced he’d become the president of the whole damn united states of whatever. It was clear to him, when they sat down at the table, set with pancakes and toast, that the others had already put two and two together. Was it Carol who blabbed, or was it by any chance Rick? Anyway they took it without any fuss. Thankfully. He’d never pull through such a questioning. 

But Rick’s right, to some extent. He’s been in a constant haze for awhile now. He can’t put his finger on when the haze was inevitable, must’ve been during their walk to the gas station, but might just as well be earlier. She had a special impact on him from the start. Those blue, piercing eyes looking at him over the barrel of the gun after they’d saved him and Aaron. He can’t get enough of ‘em. 

“Guess ya’ right.” He therefore says. Why would he lie? Apparently they’re the talk of the town now anyway. Jeez. As if the townies don’t have else to talk about? 

“That hurricane of- I dunno, feelings. They’re good. Validation that everything’s just- perfect.” Rick says and by doing so, puts his finger on something Daryl have felt some kind of guilt for, not always, fuck no. 

But it’s a feeling he struggles with from time to time, if just for a second or a minute. He’s not good for her, or more correctly; not good enough. But that feeling’s swept away as soon as he notices her looking at him. The blue eyes smiling at him, as a lagoon of homeliness and deep affection. 

“Never done this before.” Daryl says husky. 

“No one has.” Rick replies while looking at the robin. “There’s a first for everyone. Ya’ just- gets a hang of your own mind. The rest goes by itself.” He makes a movement, and gets up from the boards. “I’ll go get some water.” He announces. 

Rick climbs down the ladder and Daryl looks after him as he strides over to the store. He smiles faintly to himself, lets his experienced gaze wander slow and steady over the closest surroundings at the other side of the makeshift wall. A few walkers have miraculously managed to remain on the site since they made a raid and eliminated most, after the great battle. One of them seems to have ended up in a loop; over and over again it crashes into the hood of an abandoned pickup, whose tires have almost grown stuck in the asphalt, which has been taken over, slow and steady, by mother nature. 

A soft tapping on wood gets his attention. He turns his head, and happens to see something at the lower end of the ladder.  

“Mornin’.” He greets Juri, who’s small, soft hands squeezes the second step of the hard, wooden ladder. “Wanna come up, kiddo?”

Without hesitating, Juri climbs the tall ladder, with the walkman in his pocket and the headphones around his neck. The big blue eyes are determined, curious. Almost at the top of the ladder, Daryl grabs the boy by his armpits and lifts him up to the platform. The three and a half year old is an early riser and has managed to dress himself this morning too, except the shoes that Juri wiggles in front of Daryl, to tie for him.

“Ya’ gotta learn to do this on ye’re own someday, kiddo.” Daryl says and ties the tiny Chuck Taylors.

A small index finger is pointed right at him. Juri looks at him with a clever grin, as to say: ‘Well, until then, you’re doing it for me’. Yeah, that’s probably true. Daryl lets out a faint chuckle. Being bossed around by a kid is something new. 

“Ya’ mom’s asleep?”

Juri nods. Daryl smiles. Before he left the night before to join Abraham at the watchtower he checked in on Mila and Juri. Juri was tucked in for bed and Mila had curled up next to him, supported by at least four pillows, with two books about bunnies in her lap; The Velveteen Rabbit and The Naughty Bunny. 

“See ya’ in the mornin’.” Daryl said, stroking Mila’s hair. “Night, kiddo.”

The smile he received from Juri, all wrapped up under the covers with his soft toys was priceless and also followed by a thrown, open-palm kiss.  

Juri settles down next to him on the platform. He’s dressed in a pair of rust colored dungarees with a black jumper underneath. On top he wears a flannel to shield himself from the still awakening sunlight, looking very proper. The blonde hair looks half combed, as if he got tired with trying and decided to leave it be. He fiddles on the walkman, while peering out over the wall with squinting eyes.  

“Ya’ had breakfast?” Daryl asks. 

Juri doesn’t answer, obviously, but he puts his hand in the front chest pocket of the dungarees and pulls something from it. A pack of two Reese’s cups. Daryl grins. 

“Ya’ mom won’t like that.” He says, but gets an authoritarian index finger in front of the mouth, followed by a ‘shhh’ from the boy; ‘I won’t tell if you don’t tell’. “Go ahead, kiddo.” Daryl therefore says.

He watches as Juri peels the packaging open and takes out a peanut butter cup and hands it to him. They eat the chocolate-peanutty-goodies under silence. He’s amazed at the little boy, who seems to have the intellect and the ability to think like a child who is twice as old. Mila hasn’t coddled him, except smothered him with infinite amounts of motherly love, no doubt ‘bout that, but he can dress himself, make decisions on his own. He’s curious rather than scared and calculating rather than impulsive. He likes to collect stones, feathers and sticks, picks flowers, investigates bugs and likes to draw and listen to music while jumping on the bed or running around in the streets. And Daryl adores him. He’s a great kid. 

“Whatcha’ listen to?” Daryl nods at the walkman between the small hands. 

Juri removes the headphones from around his neck. He holds them up in his right hand as he pushes the ‘play’-button and turns the small ‘plus’-volume button on the side of the device, increasing the volume, leaking an old rock song. 

“Sounds great.” 

Juri gesticulates with his hands. It makes him feel both dumb and sad over the fact that he actually can’t understand the kid. Not that it stops Juri from trying, but he can’t understand no matter how many times he repeats his gestures.

“Sorry kiddo.”

The kiddo ain’t let down that easily. He opens the walkman, takes out the tape and shows him. Daryl reads ‘Boston - Boston, 1979’, written in black marker at the thin line on the orange paper label at the black plastic tape. 

“Okay, here we go-” Rick appears at the edge of the platform, but pauses and bursts into a wide grin at the sight of Juri. “Hey, little guy.”

Juri waves at Rick as he climbs up and sits down at his left side. 

“Here-” Rick hands Daryl the bottled water and then looks at Juri. “You’re up early.”

The blonde boy nods proudly, as to say ‘yup, before my mom’. Daryl unscrews the cap from the plastic bottle and offers it to Juri. He takes it and takes two small sips, before handing it back and continuing to look out over the wall. But soon the little nose begins to search in the air. Daryl and Rick can smell it too; breakfast. Toasts and waffles.

“Ya hungry?” Rick asks Juri. Juri turns and peers up at Daryl, as if he had an answer for it. He then turns back to Rick, and shakes his head. “We’ll be replaced soon. Then we’ll eat.” Rick says, very dad-like. Authoritarian but still nice. 

Juri nods and returns to his walkman, puts the headphones over his blonde hair and disappears into his own world of Boston, 1979. Daryl looks down at the toddler sitting between him and Rick, nodding his head to the beat of the music, so carefree and at ease. He looks so much like Mila, except the blonde hair. But his constant cool is something else, a hybrid between Mila and whoever the man who biologically is his father. Mila’s a hothead by blood, with impressive self-control. Like the calmest water which in an instant can blow up into a raging storm. Juri, on the other hand, is calmness personified whatever the situation. Maybe because he relies on Mila entirely. He never has to be scared or worried.  

“Now, that’s a sight for sore eyes.” 

Daryl’s interrupted in his thoughts. He turns and looks over his left shoulder. Carol is standing on the ground, shielding her eyes from the sun, smiling up at the three of them. Juri waves happily down at her with a proud smile on his lips. He’s with the big boys now.  

“Hi, darling.” Carol waves at him before turning her eyes to Daryl. “Ya’ boys hungry?” Juri sniffs in the air and nods. “There’s honey and waffles for you, darling.” Carol smiles at the blonde boy. “What about you two?” 

“Sounds great.” Rick says. “We’ll be replaced soon.”

“Great.” Carol replies. “You’ve been up there all night.” She continues. “We’re planning a barbeque tonight. Why don’t you get some venison later?” 

I’ll be damn Carol, Daryl thinks to himself with a faint, but thankful smile. More things to do today, except collecting materials for the wall. 

“Sure.” He calls back at her. 

“I’ll thank you later, when you’re back with some meat.” She replies in a cheeky smile. “I’ll bring you three something to eat before you leave if you’d like?”

“Set up three more plates.” Rick says. “We’re done here soon.”

Carol nods smilingly, turns and starts walking back towards the houses. Daryl and Rick look at each other. Huh, a barbecue.  

“Could be fun.” Rick says. “Gotta chop some wood then. You wanna help?” He looks at Juri, who nods eagerly with the headphones around his neck again, excited to help out with grown-up stuff. “Great. We’ll start right away, after we’d had something to eat.”

Juri nods and looks at the two men on each side of him, rubbing his tummy, showing them that now he’s hungry. Especially when there’s waffles. He then gets up on his knees and, without warning, climbs into Daryl’s lap. The small hands start to fiddle with his vest, then with the cord of the headphones. Daryl doesn’t tense, but he becomes instantly aware of his body, as if a baby deer had climbed into his lap; he can’t scare him away. But Juri’s calm and relaxed. In the corner of his eye, Daryl sees Rick smile. 

“What?” 

“Nothin’.” Rick says and blinks. “Just, everything’s kinda fine, right?”

Daryl turns his gaze from Rick and looks down at Juri, who meets his gaze and smiles sunny, then out over the area on the other side of the safe-zone, contemplating his friend’s words. Yeah, he thinks. Things are actually kinda perfect. Fuckin’ hell, he feels great. Everything’s calm. No breaches and no herd of walkers approaching. There’s a three and a half-year old in his lap that looks at him like- yeah Daryl can’t figure that one out. But he seems happy. And there’s Mila, probably half awake by now, back at the house. Holy shit, he’s got his shit together at last. 

“Guess ya’ right.” Daryl replies.

“Yep.” Rick says, also turning his head out over the surroundings. “I’m happy for ya’.” He sighs. “It’ll be fun. Barbecue. Bonfire. The only thing’s missing is a harmonica, or a guitar.” Rick turns his head to look at him. “Ya’ play?”

“What? Guitar?” Daryl shakes his head. “Nah.”

But a faint smile spreads upon Daryl’s lips as an idea forms inside his head, accompanied by the muffled sound from Juri’s headphones, which leaks a guitar solo. Nah, he ain’t playing. But he knows someone who might. Inside his head, he adds another task to his mental to do-list.

Taglist: @lonewolf471 @twdeadfanfic

[kumkaniudaku]

CoCo and Maya Take Paris

A/N: Another installment from me and @brianabreeze. Expect one more before we both get into school full swing. 

Word Count: 5.8k

Apprehension and excitement flowed through Tasha’s veins like blood as she stared out of the window of the chartered jet. When Maya gifted the Boseman’s a trip to Paris with her and T’Challa for Christmas, she didn’t know what to expect. She’d never been on a trip paid for by anyone other than her husband, especially not one as lavish as this. Adding to her nerves was the thought of being away from her new baby boy for longer than a few hours. Noah was approaching his fourth month outside of the womb, and she couldn’t think of a time where she wasn’t looking into his beautiful brown eyes. Still, she was excited to return to the place that carried love in the air. If she was lucky, she and Chadwick could reenact the night she surprised him with a few added tricks.

Already stationed in Paris and awaiting her friend’s arrival, Maya could feel the same excitement moving her legs around the hotel suite’s spacious living room as she paced the floor. T’Challa watched her over the rim of his coffee mug and sighed.

“Kitten, have a seat. Your constant walking is making me nervous.”

Maya stopped her shuffling for a moment to glare at her husband, “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you, King Cletus.”

“Eh, do not start with the nicknames. I am only trying to help.”

“I’m sorry,” she groaned, flopping down on the couch next to him. “I’m just nervous. What if they don’t like it here? What if they don’t enjoy themselves with us. Three days is a long time to spend with two other people.”

“You have planned everything to best of your ability. Tasha and Chadwick will enjoy this weekend with us. I am sure of it.” T’Challa pressed an encouraging kiss to her temple, bringing a smile to her face. “And, if they do not, we will bill them for their portion of the trip.”

“Challa!”

“Do you think I plan to pay for a wasted trip? You can only stay wealthy by being frugal.”

T’Challa’s attempt to make his worried wife laugh, if only for a moment, worked like a charm. While the monarchs discussed the weekend’s events, Hollywood’s royal family stood wide-eyed in the lobby of the Sofitel Paris Le Faubourg.

“Oh my God,” Tasha whispered as she clung to her husband’s arm. “This is beautiful.”

Chadwick smirked at his awestruck wife and kissed her temple, “Your friend has good taste and, apparently, a lot of money.”

“I don’t-we gotta get them a gift. This is all too much.”

Tasha’s eyes fought to take in the beauty that characterized the hotel’s lobby. The blue and grey tones caught the high noon sun and made the room feel like an endless heaven. Bright yellow flowers topping the table in the center of the reception area added an instant energy boost to her day, pulling the corners of his lips upward into a smile.

“Worry about the gift when we get back. Try and have fun this weekend. You deserve to have some fun.”

Reception came easy and discrete, settling a quiet fear of Chadwick’s. He always made sure to keep his professional life from sullying his family’s personal experiences. For someone else to plan a trip for them meant relinquishing that control and, possibly, ruining his wife’s first moment of quiet since introducing a new child to the house.

The booked Prestige suite very nearly produced tears as Tasha stepped foot into the spacious room. Chadwick took notice of the size of the bed and made a mental note to test its limits if the weekend provided an opportunity. After dropping off their bags, the couple made the journey to visit their counterparts.

When the large door of the Udaku’s suite swung open, the excited squeals of reunited friends rang out through the long hallway.

“CoCo,” Maya squealed, pulling her friend into a hug. “Oh my God, I’m so glad y’all got here safe! How was the flight? Do you like the room?”

“Do we like the room? Of course, we like the room! I was telling Aaron how we need to get y’all a gift.”

“I like the way you think, Tasha. We enjoy tropical vacations or tickets to American sporting events,” T’Challa smirked from his spot on the couch.

“He likes tickets to “American sporting events.” Your gift to me is you being here to enjoy yourself. Come in!”

Stepping aside, Maya ushered Chadwick and Tasha into the living room of her suite. Hugs and handshakes were exchanged before all were seated and engaged in conversation.

“Would either of you like a drink,” T’Challa asked, gesturing toward the glass container of brown liquid on the coffee table.

Looking to you for confirmation, Chadwick piped up, “I’ll take one. Shit, that flight, even in first class, was long as hell.”

“You strike me as a whiskey man, Chadwick. Am I right?”

“He is. He’s a whiskey man that likes to test the limits of how much he can drink in a short amount of time,” Tasha added, side-eyeing her eager husband.

“It seems like you and T’Challa are more similar than we originally thought.”

“Enough,” he chuckled, handing a glass to his friend. “A man deserves a drink every once in a while. It keeps us sane enough to deal with our...loving wives.”

“Oh, please,” Tasha laughed. “If you’re like this one over here, I’m sure Star could use a drink and a blunt at the end of every day.”

“Giiiiirl, you don’t know the half,” the women shared a laugh, completely disregarding the identical eye rolls from their husbands. “That’s why we’re here this weekend! To get away from you two for a few hours and have some girl time!”

“Oooh, girl time. I like this. Elaborate, my sister.”

“Well,” Maya started, drawing out the monosyllabic word for dramatic effect while she retrieved the brochure behind her back. “I know after giving birth to your beautiful baby boy; you need a break. So, we will be going to the spa and then shopping until we can’t take it anymore. Of course, we’ll get food and all that good shit.”

“T’Challa, you wanna switch partners?”

The King nearly choked at the suggestion, “Uh, while Chadwick is a great friend, I think I prefer my wife by my side.”

“Your loss, man. CoCo says I can cook pretty good and I always put the seat down,” Chadwick caught his wife’s glare. “Okay, some of the time.”

“Now that we’ve established whatever that was, are you ready to stimulate the Parisian economy? I can hear Chanel calling my name.” T’Challa groaned at the Queen’s antics because he knew how crazy Maya could get with shopping, especially in Paris. “Excuse you, Cletus? Is there a problem?”

“Actually, yes. What will Chadwick and I do while you two are out buying Paris?”

“I don’t know, you’re grown figure it out,” Maya retorted, motioning toward the door for Tasha to join her.

T’Challa mumbled his response under his breath before motioning for Chadwick to follow him to the hotel suite’s kitchen.

“Maybe we can go to a Burlesque show or something,” T’Challa shouted, trying to irritate his wife further. Chadwick’s fight to hold back his laughter ended with a cackle to match his wife’s laughter.

“Cute.” Maya rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to her friend. “Girl, it’s like he’s been on 100 today. I’m sorry.” Tasha could only laugh because she knew what Maya meant. Chadwick was no stranger to childish retorts and antics to get her attention.

“Your spending limit should be on 100 as well,” T’Challa griped, earning another eye roll.

“Oh, before I forget, I have one more surprise before we start this trip.” Maya clapped and made her way over to her purse. “Chad and Challa, aka the two T’Chad’s, can you make your way in here?”

“Haha, very funny.” T’Challa walked over to his wife, who was digging in her purse.

“For the both of you.”

Maya’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she handed a blank envelope over to her curious friends. Inside, two lanyards shining with the gloss of hard plastic made Tasha’s eyes grow wide.

“Maya,” she started, showing Chadwick the gift and watching his expression change to mirror hers, “VIP passes to On The Run II?”

“Yeah! I told Bey about our couples trip, and she wants us to come out and maybe have dinner with them after the show.”

“Dinner? With Beyoncé! Like, Beyoncé is going to eat dinner at the same table I’m at? A meal? With the Queen? Food and conversation...with Beyoncé. Say My Name Beyoncé?”

“Is she okay,” T’Challa asked Chadwick with genuine concern. “She is saying the same things over and over with slightly different wording.”

“Yeah, she’s fine. You probably won’t find a bigger Beyoncé fan than CoCo, though.”

“Eh, I think I know of one.” T’Challa nodded toward his wife with a smile.

“Yes, girl! I say the same thing sometimes. It’s crazy how you can be a friend and a fan at the same damn time! I knew you would love it.”

“Oh my God, I gotta buy an outfit. I need to get my toes done, shave my legs, my hair! We gotta go right now!”

Tasha’s attempt to rush out of the door to God knows where was stopped by her husband. Without a word, he pulled his wallet from the pocket of his sweatpants and removed his credit card. Placing the card into his wife’s hand, he gripped her chin to meet her eyes.

“Go easy on me, baby,” His lips found hers for a quick kiss. “But have fun.”

“Thank you, Pookie.” The use of his no longer private nickname name made Chadwick groan in playful annoyance.  

Beaming at the display of affection in front of them, Maya turned to T’Challa with a wide grin.

“They are so cute. C’mon, babe, gimme your card. I’ll go easy on you.”

T’Challa scoffed after placing a kiss on his wife’s forehead, “You act as if I do not know you still have it from the last time you went shopping. Dior and Gucci should join the family judging by how much money you choose to give them.”

“Would you like it if I was out here misrepresenting our great country?”

“I would like if you would at least purchase something we both could enjoy,” T’Challa answered, wiggling his eyebrows to convey his ulterior meaning. Maya returned his look with one of her own before placing a sweet kiss on his nose.

Turning to Tasha and Chadwick, she clasped her hands in childlike excitement.

“Okay, lovebirds, we have an appointment to get to and shopping to do! We will see you two for dinner tonight. Be ready by 9.”

“You are telling us as if we will be the holdup, entle.” T’Challa joked as he and Chadwick followed the women to the door to exchange their last goodbyes.

“I said what I said. Have fun, twins!”

“Call and check on the kids, Aaron!”

Instructions hung in the air long after Maya and Tasha were down the hallway and off to enjoy their day together. With no women to guide the activities, Chadwick and T’Challa looked at each other with concerned expressions.

“What do we do now?”

“The burlesque show is still on the table,” T’Challa joked over his glass as he took another sip of his whiskey. Noticing Chadwick’s blank expression, he quickly changed his tune. “Or cigars. There is shop walking distance from here that I enjoy.”

“Yeah...let’s do that.”

                                        __________

If the champagne and deep tissue massage at the spa didn’t do enough to relax Maya and Tasha, then the shopping trip catalyzed an utterly carefree state of being. What started as window shopping and simple observing turned into a full-on shopping frenzy as soon as the front display of Chanel came into view.

The light chatter and soft music swirling in the crisp air of Givenchy provided an enjoyable shopping experience for both women as the perused the store for concert outfits. Tasha ran her fingers over expensive dresses and offered curt nods to nosy store attendants, looking for something appropriate for dinner with Beyoncé while she conversed with Maya.

“If that woman looks over here one more time, I’m going to go off,” Maya murmured with her eyes cut at a fellow patron. The grey-haired Parisian woman noticed the look and quickly returned to her shopping pursuits.

“Oh, to be a Black girl in places they don’t expect you to be.”

“Say that sis,” Maya laughed. “How’s little Noah and Miss Micah?”

“Noah is the chunkiest, happiest baby I’ve ever met. He’s just like his Daddy,” Tasha gushed, handing over her phone to show her friend a picture of her giggling four-month-old. Chadwick was mere inches from his son’s face, smiling as Noah squished his cheeks in his chubby hands.

“Aww he is just the cutest little chunk! He looks just like you. Is Micah enjoying being a big sister?”

“She loves it! The only thing she won’t do is change diapers. Other than that, she’s his third parent.”

“That was Mala with Abdul. Now they’re attached at the hip.”

“Speaking of Mala, tell her thank you again for Micah’s tiara. I almost had to put hands on her when she tried to wear it to school.”

Maya threw her head back in a cackle, attracting the attention of the earlier nosy shopper. Tasha threw the woman a cold look in Maya’s defense, startling the woman into leaving the area altogether.

“Mala is smitten by Micah. She can’t wait until you guys can come and visit. Our doors are always open.”

“Don’t tell, Chad. He’ll drop everything to visit next week,” you laughed. A comfortable silence filled in the temporary gap while you examined a potential outfit for the concert. “So, have you and T’Challa talked about more babies in the palace?”

Maya took a deep breath, “We have. Can I share something with you?”

“Of course. But only if you’re comfortable.”

“I feel like...my time is almost up. Like I’m getting too old for more children, you know? I would love another baby, and I know Challa would too, but I’m scared.”  

When Maya’s eyes lifted to meet Tasha’s, the sadness clouding her deep brown orbs was overwhelming. Tasha knew the feeling all too well. The sense that the dreams resting in the front of your head were slowly disappearing as time ticked away.

“Come here, girl,” Tasha beckoned, pulling Maya into a tight hug. “I see you. I’ve been there.”

Tasha’s hushed admission did its part in soothing Maya along with the warm embrace. In their time as friends, their relationship had been built on vulnerability and breaking emotional barriers. The healthy release of private thoughts was something that both Queens enjoyed.

“Were you afraid with Noah?”

“Girl, was I terrified! With Noah and the baby we miscarried. Shit, I was afraid of Micah. When we found out about Micah, I cried. I thought my husband would be upset with me because we had just gotten married and even though we had talked about kids, I didn’t know if he was ready. After we settled that, it was fine, but I told him that I didn’t want any more kids. I felt just like you.”

“That your time was running out?”

“Listen, I’ve felt like my time was running out from the moment we started dating. I told him that when he proposed, when Micah turned two, and he wanted to work on more kids, and I cussed him out when I found out I was pregnant the second time. I was so scared because I’m not anybody’s young girl anymore,” Tasha laughed. “But, when I sat and talked to doctors and prayed, I felt much better. Our bodies are amazing and will carry you through if you decide to try again. Especially in Wakanda. Medicine has evolved, and you’re healthy.”

“So, you think it’s okay to try again?”

“I think you should make the decision that makes you comfortable. I will say, though, I’d love to spoil another Udaku munchkin. Ooh, what if you have twins! Two baby girls for me send gifts to.”

“Slow your roll, Co,” Maya exclaimed, halting her friend’s excitement. “Ain’t no twins coming out of here.”

“Yet. I’m putting it into the atmosphere. Two for one babies!”

Tasha’s glee ignited an excitement in Maya that was once buried underneath fear. In a short conversation, reluctance was transitioning into a glimmer of hope. Maybe she had more time than she thought. Maybe there was room for one or two more people in the Golden Tribe.

                                    ___________

Unbeknownst to the wives, their husbands sat 250 meters away inside of Le Lotus in search of fine cigars. T’Challa led the way, speaking near-perfect French to the store attendant before being directed to the desired product. Chadwick quietly took in his surroundings, inhaling deeply to get the full aroma of the tobacco around him. He’d smoked a cigar once or twice in celebration, but he was far from knowledgeable about appropriate pairings and top rated choices.

Looking up from a box of Cigars, Chadwick noticed T’Challa thank the staff member and motion for him to come over.

“The Montecristo is one of my favorites, the Cuban brand in particular. Such a naturally sweet taste. Would you like to try one?”

“Hell yeah. If they come highly recommended, I’m down.”

T’Challa offered Chadwick a smile and nod before gesturing for the attendant to come back. Once the box of cigars was purchased, the men were ushered to a back parlor to enjoy a glass of Scotch with their item.

“A new little one in the house must keep you pretty busy,” T’Challa started as he added a flame to the rolled tobacco. “I remember when Abdul was born. Those were the most exciting times in my life. Looking at a miniature version of me grow filled me with so much pride.”

“I wish Noah was a miniature me. He’s me in personality, but when I look at him, he’s his mama everywhere else. I can’t say that I’m upset though.”

“Do you find yourself worrying about how you will balance raising a daughter and a son?”

Chadwick sighed at the question, “All the time, man. I don’t want to raise my children with double standards at all-”

“But there are things that your son will need to know separate from your daughter,” T’Challa added, earning a nod of agreement from Chadwick. “I understand. It is a thing that I find myself battling with all the time. Mala is my princess, literally and figuratively. Though I know that she is capable, I want to protect her for the rest of her life.”

“Exactly,” Chadwick took a sip of his scotch and let the smooth liquid make its way down his throat before he continued. “I didn’t know how much I wanted kids until we lost one. Micah wasn’t planned. It’s not that I didn’t want her, but I didn’t know if I was ready. The moment I looked into her eyes, I knew I needed to have that feeling again. I was so excited for our second child and then...it was over.”

“It is a gut punch that no one can prepare you for. I could not fathom how attached I would become to a person that I never met. And I spent so much time trying to comfort Maya that I forgot about myself.”

Chadwick felt as if he was having a conversation with himself. Sure, he’d shared his thoughts with his wife and therapist, but the opportunity to speak with another man was more than refreshing. It was healing.

“I sat and worried about CoCo for months until I just couldn’t anymore. I felt guilty for suggesting she have another baby when she didn’t want one. She would be asleep sometimes, and I’d stare at her stomach wondering what we did to deserve that type of pain.” Chadwick took a long pull from his cigar, using the plume of smoke to symbolize his feelings vaporizing into the ether.

“I stayed away from my wife. I thought I could handle seeing her until it came down to being with her every day. It felt like she was ignoring the situation and I didn’t understand how. I was so focused on my hurt that I never took the time to speak with her about her hurt.”

“How did you get through it?”

T’Challa smiled a half smile, “Therapy. An open and honest conversation about the situation. For you and Tasha?”

“We did the same thing. It took a while for both of us to get comfortable and even longer to be intimate again. That was...a tough time,” Chadwick laughed. “I didn’t want to pressure her though.”

“Intimacy has been slow to return, but we are making satisfactory progress.”

“We probably should’ve waited longer than we did. The moment we got back to it, we didn’t stop for days. Eight weeks later we found out about Noah.”

“I can not wait until we get that news. Maya seems to be reluctant, and I do not want to rush her if she is not ready.”

“Give her time, bro. She’ll come around.”

Chadwick’s reassurance gave T’Challa a glimmer of hope. After a few sips of the potent liquid, T’Challa fixed his mouth to speak. “Thank you, brother. Your wisdom and advice have helped me more than you know. But, we must get going.” He held his phone up to show Chadwick the message from Maya informing them of their return to the hotel.

“So, you go it too. It’s amazing how we still have four hours before the reservations, and we still won’t be ready before nine.”

“You make a good point. Maybe we should finish these drinks.”

                                   ____________

Chadwick and T’Challa were right. Not only were they ten minutes late for their dinner reservations the previous night, but they were also currently fifteen minutes behind schedule for their ride to the concert. Both husbands conversed in the living room of the suite while their wives continued their dressing routine in the master bathroom.

“CoCo, hurry uuuup,” Chadwick hollered over his shoulder between sips of spring water. T’Challa’s eyes widened as he tried to warn his friend of the danger looming behind him. Water sputtered from his lips onto the front of his plain white t-shirt from the force of the pillow colliding with the back of his head.

“Say something else. You hurry up.”

Tasha made a point to toss the decorative pillow into his lap and stick out her tongue on the way to her purse and sunglasses. Maya was nearby, adjusting her husband’s jacket while they shared a laugh. The warmer than average temperatures in Paris kept everyone’s attire light to combat the elements.

“Are we ready to go? I have told the driver five more minutes three times. I am not prepared for a walk to the venue. These are new shoes.”

“I told you I wasn’t the only extra one in this relationship,” Maya stated looking at Tasha and standing to her feet. “We’re ready. It’s Bey Time, bitches.”

“Oh my God, Beyoncé! I was practicing some stuff from her Coachella set last night. I think I got the Everybody Mad choreo down.”

“Here we go,” Chadwick groaned, watching his wife run through the moves that she’d been working on all night.

Maya quickly joined her, hyping her friend as they walked through the hallway belting the lyrics to the O.T. Genesis song while Tasha sloppily recreated the choreography.

The jam sessions continued in the chartered SUV, the two superfans harmonizing to Me, Myself and I and I Care to pass the time during the twenty-minute journey. The rush of energy made Tasha’s hand shake inside her husband’s as he led through the crowd of excited concert goers to the VIP section. Maya made sure to sit beside her friend to introduce her to the other high profile guests.

Chloe and Halle kicked off the show, priming the audience for a night of entertainment. DJ Khaled was the next to grace the stage, providing the perfect atmosphere for the alcohol-induced dancing between the group of friends. Both Tasha and Maya were surely giving the fans around them a show as they shameless danced on their husbands to the upbeat hip-hop tracks.

The wait for Beyoncé had Tasha on edge and constantly checking the time on her phone.

“She’s coming, baby,” Chadwick spoke into her ear with his arms wrapped around her torso.

“I’m so excited. Do I look cute? Do you think she can see me from here?”

“Girl, you look stunning,” Maya complimenting, catching wind of Tasha’s conversation. “She can’t see anybody when she’s up there. Giselle has tunnel vision she’s up there. It’s all good. Here, take a shot!”

Without hesitation, Tasha downed the unidentified liquid and tried her best to release her anxiety. When the lights went dark, and the intro started, the nerves and jitters quickly morphed into amazement.

Beyoncé and Jay-Z moved across the stage like consummate professionals, energizing the crowd with every song, rap and dance move. Tasha and Maya connected for their practiced dance moves and linked arms to sway and sing along to Beyoncé’s ballads.

Chadwick had his moment to fan out during Big Pimpin’, remembering the concert he snuck away to with Tasha during college. The anticipation for new music was a feeling that Tasha couldn’t shake, especially after whispers from Maya that her friends had been in the studio.

“Can we play y’all something new,” Beyoncé asked the crowd, receiving raucous applause and screaming in response. “Jay, you ready?”

Jay-Z took a moment to let the screams bubble into deafening levels before answering his wife, “Yeah, Bey!”

The intoxicating vibe of SUMMER filled the open-air stadium, making it almost impossible not wind and sway to the music.

“Let’s make love in the summertime, yeah. On the sands, beach sands, make plans, to be in each other’s arms.”

As if sharing the same brain, Maya and Tasha turned to squeal at each other. Beyoncé’s vocals were immaculate over the tropical track, transporting the women to thoughts of a romantic tropical island.

T’Challa and Chadwick watched their wives interact, waiting for the inevitable. Like clockwork, the dancing commenced, sending their bodies flush against their husband’s chests. T’Challa snaked his arm across Maya’s chest while his free hand went to grip her waist. Chadwick boldly held on to Tasha’s waist as she moved her hips in time with hers.

The song seemed to be crafted for the moment, characterizing the particular moment between lovers. For four months, CoCo and Chadwick had been focused on raising a family. There was no time for private moments, often ending in interruptions from one or both of their kids. Romance rarely progressed beyond a kiss or a touch and though it had yet to happen on this trip, just a moment to hold each other felt monumental.

Similarly, Maya and T’Challa deal with their juggling act between ruler and spouse. Running an entire country came with its own set of issues and strain on their marriage. With a moment to enjoy each other’s company without distractions was a welcome change from the norm.

In Tasha’s mind, as quick as the night had started, the Shining track was playing to signal the end of the concert. She and Maya gushed about the show for almost an hour, recalling their favorite moments and outfits.

“The Balmain bodysuit...slay me, Queen,” Tasha recounted, sliding down the concrete wall in the arena’s tunnel to exaggeratedly get her point across.

“She killed me in the custom Balmain dress. The mesh insert showed the perfect amount of skin. I need that!”

“Eh, you do not. Don’t get any ideas.” Maya made sure her husband could see her eye roll before she continued.

“Jay and Bey said they couldn’t make dinner tonight, but would love to have us backstage. Is that cool with everyone.”

“Right now? How do I look? How’s my hair?”

“Co,” Maya laughed, stopping her friend’s mounting rant. “I promise you look amazing. Calm down.”

After a few guided breathing exercises on the tip to the Carter’s backstage area, Tasha felt ready. She’d met Jay-Z several times before, but never had she come in close contact with his wife. A member of the Parkwood team ushered the four adults to the lavish sitting area and in front of the Carter clan and their associates.

“Staaaar,” Beyoncé smiled, greeting her friend with a white towel draped over her shoulder.

The two singers shared hugs and greeting while T’Challa and Chadwick shook hands with Jay-Z. Tasha stood sheepishly in the back, not sure if she wanted to be noticed or not.

“Bey, meet my girl, Tasha. She loooved the show.”

“Tasha! I’ve wanted to meet you for a while now.”

“Meet me,” she barely had time to process her thoughts before Beyoncé was pulling her into a hug.

“Jay has told me so much about you, and I met your husband more than a few times. He speaks highly of you. I wanted to come to your event last year, but schedules got crossed. Please, keep me in mind for the next one. I love the work you’re doing.”  

Tasha was taken aback yet, oddly calmed by the praise. Noticing her slight shift in energy, Chadwick have his wife a smile and nod across the room. He knew that the woman you respected shared an equal level of respect for you. He just needed you to experience it first hand.

Conversation from that point flowed with no issues. Laughter became the primary form of communication as the group of couples discussed the show and any topic the presented itself. Despite the relative brevity of the conversation, the level of comfort that came with speaking to hip-hop royalty was something that the couples would never forget.

That comfort extended to the their late dinner and back into the Udaku suite which had been dubbed the unofficial hang out spot for the night. The supply of whiskey never ran dry, and neither did the fun. Chadwick, Maya, and Tasha introduced T’Challa to spades only to later find out that the King was already a pro thanks to his cousin. Tasha and Maya still managed to smoke the boys, delivering a bit of taunting after each victory.

“Hell yeah,” Maya exclaimed throwing down her deuce of spades to effectively seal the win.

“Y’all want another round or y’all tired of me and Star whooping that ass.”

“Enough drinks for you, Nicole,” Chadwick laughed, pulling his wife’s drink away from her. “As a matter of fact, I think it’s time for you to go to bed. You’re acting like a certain six-year-old I know.”

“Ah, come on, Chad! Can she stay and play a little while longer?”

“This one is acting like a child as well. It is bedtime Kitten. The sun will be up sooner than you know and we have to get back home.”

Maya groaned at her husband’s reminder but allowed him to pull her up and out of her chair. Chadwick followed suit with his wife’s sneakers in his hands.

“Til next time, boss,” Chadwick directed to T’Challa, shaking his hand and bringing him into a hug.

“I am looking forward to your visit to Wakanda. We will have a second New Years party when your family arrives. If Micah loves my Mala, wait until she meets my nieces and little sister. They will spoil her.”

“And wait until Ramonda sees little Noah. It’ll be hell trying to get him back. Queen Mother loves the babies.”

“We’ll be there. Maybe CoCo and I can hike some of those mountains,” Chadwick mused, bumping his hip into Tasha’s.

“Yeah, I got your damn hike. I’ll hike my ass right on to that market to get some of the local food. Then we maybe could pencil a short walk or some yoga outside.”

As the men made their way to the door to, CoCo hung back to speak with Maya.

“Thank you for the advice, Co. You put things into perspective.”

Tasha stopped to grab both of Maya’s hands, “You were there to help me when I needed you. I’m honored to be there for you.” Maya pulled her into a hug, rocking her body from side to side. When they pulled away, Tasha’s smile spread from ear to ear. “Soooooo…”

“What? What you got in that mind of yours?”

“Can I expect to hear some lovin’ down the hall tonight? Let’s get this baby makin’ started girl!”

“Child, get out of here,” Maya laughed, giving her friend a slight push toward the door. “Chad, get her out of here. She’s had enough of everything for the day.”

“Come on, Mama. I’m ready to go to bed, and I need to you to tuck me in.” Chadwick’s mischievous grin didn’t go unnoticed as he wife rolled his eyes.

“Remember what I said, Star. I’m listening out for you.”

“Get out of here, silly!”

Truthfully, Maya didn’t know if she was ready, but the wheels were turning. What she did know was the desire for intimacy was back. The moment the door to their suite clicked closed, Maya turned to face her husband.

“We need to talk,” she announced, her voice dropping to match the sultry nature of her strut.

T’Challa took immediate notice and opened his arms to welcome the love of his life. Their foreheads touched before Maya closed the gap to place a gentle peck on his lips.

“Should we take this conversation to the bedroom, my love?”

“After you, Kumkani.”

                                   ____________

Chadwick had no such luck.

Soaking in a hot bath with his wife was supposed to be romantic. At least it started that way. Innocent kisses turned into discarded clothing and a sudden desire to “surf” from Tasha. With her back pressed against his chest, he could touch and rub any part he could get his hands on. What he thought was comfortable silence turned out to be much more.

“You know, baby. Paris seems to be our spot.” He punctuated his sentence with a kiss to her ear, waiting for her response. “CoCo, did you hear me?”

Still nothing. Craning his neck, Chadwick dropped his shoulders in defeat when he realized the reason for her lack of conversation.

She was asleep. Mouth dropped open and chest rising and falling in a steady motion, the alcohol had put you into a drunken slumber instead of the filthy lover he was hoping for. With a sigh, he drained the tub before working to get his wife dressed for bed.

“This wasn’t the type of daddy I was planning on being tonight,” he grumbled, pulling the covers up over their bodies before turning off the bedside lamp. “You owe me, girl. I am going to tear that ass up when I get the chance, and you better not run.”

                                 ______________

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[scramblingminds]

@syrabylene you know I will always try to write anything you ask for! Maybe not very quickly these days but I try!

I hope you like this one, I was writing when I noticed it was working with the prompts for the #PaulRoviaDeservesBetter2k18 challenge and I kinda tweaked it to work with it too. So, even if it deviated a tad from your prompt I hope you can still like it, since your fill is now also a chanllenge submission :D @desussquad

Warnings: nothing much, some fluff and a sprinkle of angst. Rated M.

~Paul?~

“So, pookie, have you thought about it enough?” Carol nudged Daryl drawing his eyes to her.

He almost had to shake himself, he hadn’t realized just how zoned out he had been. It wasn’t often that everyone from the old group got to be together anymore. It had been Michonne that suggested they all make a trip to the Kingdom, to all be in the same ten-mile radius for the first time in months.

It wasn’t a party, those were a very distant thing from the past, it was more like a reunion. Rick, Michonne, Judith, Tara, Rosita, Eugene, Aaron and Gabriel coming from Alexandria. While Daryl, Enid, Jesus and Maggie with little Hershel trekking from Hilltop. Carol and Jerry had been beaming when they met everyone at the gate.

It was nice, peaceful and almost like how it used to be. Talk and banter came easy, as well as plans for new crops and finally getting a windmill up at the Sanctuary. It would be so easy to get comfortable if it weren’t for the ghosts that though unseen seemed to linger.

Daryl could almost see Glenn’s arm wrapped around Maggie’s waist as she bounced Hershel. Sasha and Abraham could have easily been standing between Rosita and Eugene as Tara cracked a joke. Worst of all, it was like at any moment Carl would appear at his father's side and take Judith up onto his hip. Hell, if he tried he could fit Beth and Hershel in at Maggie’s side. Andrea and Tyresse would definitely be deep into whatever conversation Aaron and Gabe were having.

That was part of their lives now, they were all just drifting through the holes left by those they lost. Daryl figured that was why the last time Carol had visited Hilltop she invited Daryl to come stay at the Kingdom. Daryl knew part of the reason Carol was so comfortable there, beside that damn theatrical king, was because nobody there knew all she had lost. It had been like a fresh start for her.

When people saw her they just saw Carol, for the true badass she was. Daryl couldn’t help but think he caught glimpses of wheat blonde hair and freckles whenever he saw her. Just like he knew she saw a high and tight haircut and could almost hear Merle’s guttural laugh.

He had thought about it, rolled it over in his head when he laid down on the couch in Jesus trailer that night after she left. It would be nice, maybe, to live at the Kingdom. It was very different from all the places he had live since the world went to shit. Those few days he had asylum there showed the Kingdom to not be too bad, plus Carol was there.

Then Jesus had come back, sweeping into the trailer with happy conversation and a swing of bun-freed hair. Daryl hadn’t thought about leaving again after that. It was by Carol asking him to move, for him to try to find some peace that Daryl realized he had already found it. It was the Hilltop, helping with the crops or going hunting. It was afternoons watching Hershel as Maggie strategized, rocking Glenn’s son for hours. It was night spent talking with Jesus, talks that before he knew it had somehow turned to flirting.

Flirting that the back woods part of his mind almost wanted to refuse, if it didn’t make the starved for positive attention side of him so freaking content. Jesus who was all warmth and kindness, actually seemed to be interested in someone as damaged as him. Daryl knew nothing at the Kingdom would make him feel as at ease as he did at Hilltop, as the colonies scout did.

Hell, before she had snapped his attention to her Daryl had been full out staring at the damn man. Jesus had been with Jerry and Ezekiel when Dianne had approached him. Daryl wasn’t eavesdropping but heard her ask the man if he minded sparring with her, she was trying to improve her hand-to-hand skills. Jesus, being who he was, had agreed. So, Daryl had spent the last who knew how long watching them spar.

Daryl could tell Jesus was going easy on her, pulling his punches and being deliberately slow. He was still outmatching her by a lot though. She even rolled her eyes when Jesus would give her suggestions, like how to properly be in stance or which strikes to use. Daryl was impressed by how fast Jesus dodged another punch when Carol had him tearing his eyes away.

“Yeah,” Daryl stretched the back of his neck, catching the edge of his lip between his teeth for a moment, “Thanks fer the offer but I’m good.”

“You’re good sleeping on a couch?” Carol questioned but Daryl could tell by the gleam in her eye she already knew the answer.

Daryl shrugged, nudging her back, “It’s a pretty good couch.”

Carol nodded with a hum, pressing her lips together to hide a smile, “Is it now?”

Daryl just chewed his lips as his throat flushed and Carol leaned against his side, “Do you know why I decided to stay here?”

“Ya really like Shakespeare?” Daryl chuckled when she pinched his arm.

“Haha but no,” She tilted her head up to scrunch her nose at him, “Well, maybe but it was more like I felt like I had been saved here. Not just from my wounds but like I could be myself again. I know you hate cheesy stuff but I think Ezekiel saved me.”

Daryl could see how much she meant every word, how much love she had for the king and all he could do was nod, “Ya saved his ass a time or two, too.”

She smiled at that, “Isn’t that the truth.”

Daryl let her loop her arm through his, resting his head on her. He really did miss her, missed having her and all her wisdom close by. She almost didn’t seem to mean to say it out loud as she breathed, “Jesus saved you, too.”

Daryl could feel his neck going warmer, but almost jumped at a loud thud a few yards away. He and Carol turned back to see Jesus standing over Dianne, who was flat on her back and trying to sit up.

“I am so, so sorry,” Jesus had meant to just tap her leg but she had tried to lunge toward him, putting her too close and he had accidently swept her feet out from under her, “Let me help you up.”

Dianne was red face when she finally got sat up, slapping his hand away as she awkwardly got to her feet. She tried to brush the dirt off the back of her pants as she grumbled, “Think you’re so great, wow, you can knock women around, so impressive.”

“Woah,” Jesus blinked and shook his head in disbelief, “You asked me to spar, not the other way around. What did you think was going to happen?”

“I don’t know,” Dianne threw her hands up with a scowl, “To not get my ass kicked, or maybe you would go easy since it was supposed to be just for fun.”

Daryl didn’t even remember standing up and untangling himself from Carol, much less closing the scant feet until he was nearly next to Jesus. It wasn’t until he noticed everyone was looking at Dianne and Jesus, seeming to equally edge into the tiff, that Daryl was aware of his own placement. Jesus wasn’t someone who needed protection but Daryl’s instincts always had him moving to do so.

“If ya don’t wanna get beat, don’t ask a damn ninja to spar.” Daryl spoke when it seemed Jesus was at a loss for words.

“He could have tried to be a little easy at least.” She glared at Jesus, the man still seeming gobsmacked by her words.

“Ya really think he wasn’t?” Daryl had to suppress a snort, “And not many folks will pull their punches out there beyond these walls. Yer lucky Paul was, so stop belly aching and try to do better next time.”

She seemed to deflate at the words, mutter an apology as Jerry suggested they go get some food and steered her away. Jesus turned to Daryl, a hint of a smirk on his face, “Thanks for the backup there, Dar.”

Daryl rolled his eyes at the rhyme before it was like a bomb went off everyone was speaking at once.

“Hold up, since when is it Paul?” Tara grinned.

“Paul, huh?” Rick teased as Michonne crossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow.

“Is there something you need to share, Dar?” Rosita smirked.

“I’m really happy for you guys.” Aaron beamed.

“You two are too cute.” Carol winked.

“C’mon, it’s his fuckin’ name.” Daryl tried to protest but no one was buying it. If anything his defense, along with his flushing face, just made it worst.

“Didn’t you all know?” Jesus raised his voice to make everyone quiet down, Daryl raising an eyebrow as he watched the man’s smirk grow, “Daryl, has been madly in love with me since the first day we met.”

Daryl could just throttle him; his face was on fire as his family erupted in laughter around them. Daryl knew that they all knew better than to believe that, even if it was maybe the very smallest, tiny bit true. Jesus didn’t know that though, or Daryl didn’t think he did, the ninja was always just a dramatic little shit.

Daryl watched as Paul’s smirked slipped into a smile, the one that made his eyes crinkle and cheeks dimple even under his beard. Even as everyone was joking and cracking on him and going on about happy endings and shit. He could feel the love in it, it was all good-natured. They were all family, that meant some teasing but it also meant they would always be there for each other. That might be why it was so easy to reach out and grab Paul’s hand and pull the smaller man to him.

“See, told you guys.” Paul lifted their joined hands like it was a trophy but Daryl was close enough to see the red filling his high cheek bones and feel the gentle tremble of his fingers.

“Shut up, Paul.” Daryl leaned in to press his lips to Paul’s, to make him do just that. Maybe Daryl might also have just a little flair for the dramatic too.