and i love him and his shaven face

This was when I started shipping Richonne, right in this very moment because there so many call backs - e.g. her never seeing him shaven before - and the softness in his face killed me and michonne’s smile killed me and the way he remembered the time she brushed her teeth for. There was no way you could tell me they weren’t in love.

Late as can be, before I saw this scene I dabbled in and out of the ship because I wasn’t aware there was a strong following, but once this scene came along I did not care!!

“Mike?” you called from your comfortable position on the couch. Your head was resting on the arm of the sofa, your legs tossed carelessly onto your husband’s lap as his bright eyes trained intensely on the video game he was attempting to master. You watched his fingers move across the controller swiftly, buttons being pressed rapidly.

“Hm?” Michael hummed, his eyebrows lifting and his eyes never leaving the screen. You studied his side profile, biting your lip and hesitating. His hair was a shocking black, his face pale and clean-shaven. Your gaze drifted down to the piercing in his ear, to the prominent jugular that you loved to kiss.

“I-I need to tell you something,” you told him. Michael seemed to sense the nervousness in your voice. Immediately his index finger landed on a small button of the controller and the game he had been playing came to an abrupt halt. He set his controller down onto the couch beside him, angling his body towards you and looking at you with wide, curious eyes.

“What’s up angel?”

You pushed yourself up into a sitting position, retracting your legs from your husband’s lap and crossing them, your knees protruding. Sighing, you shot a glance around your lounge.

Despite Michael’s many protests, you’d turned your living room into something of a festive masterpiece. There were stockings hanging from the fireplace and little multicoloured lights running along the walls. Michael had groaned, stating that you didn’t need decorations to get into the holiday spirit. All you needed was eggnog and a few badly-sung karaoke tunes.

The only component he hadn’t complained about was the mistletoe hanging from every doorway in the house, and you had to be careful so that you didn’t coincidentally end up together under the fern. Michael was all too willing to follow that part of tradition, and often the mindless pecks lead to far more. 

“I–,” you began, “I know what I want for the holidays.”

Michael processed your words, his brows furrowing before he finally broke into a wide grin. “Yeah?” he beamed, reaching out for you. You allowed him to grip your arm and tug you forward into his lap, instinctively parting your legs so that you straddled him.

Reflexively, your hands found their way to the nape of his neck, fingers fiddling with his hair, relishing in the wispy, soft texture. Michael wiggled his eyebrows, “Well go on. Don’t leave me hanging.”

You gazed at him adoringly, wondering how the hell you’d gotten so lucky. Michael’s light green eyes were shining with excitement, a twinkle that–you’d noticed–was only ever present when he looked at you. It was comforting, and this sense of security was what pushed you to utter the words that had been on the tip of your tongue for a while now.

“I want a baby.”

You waited with a held breath, and for a long moment, there was only silence. You looked down at your lap, not being able to meet his gaze–what if he wasn’t ready yet?

“A baby,” Michael breathed, and without bringing your gaze to his, you nodded somewhat sheepishly. Your husband continued in a soft voice, “You want a baby.”

“Yeah,” your voice came out as a hoarse whisper and you immediately cringed, clearing your throat and trying again, “Yeah…I do.”

“Well, I mean, I don’t think I can wrap that,” Michael joked, and despite your nervousness and anticipation, you let a giggle fall from your lips, finally bringing yourself to slant your head up and look at him. There was a small smirk playing on his rosy lips, his shoulders relaxed–he seemed to be at ease with your request.

“You can’t wrap anything,” you teased shyly, and your husband guffawed but nodded, a smile spread across his lips. He cleared his throat, tapping your thigh before standing abruptly, “Alright, let’s go.”

“What?” you sputtered, your eyes widening at the sudden change in altitude. You gripped onto Michael’s shoulders, your legs automatically winding around his waist as his hands crept downward, cupping your bum through your comfy black leggings.

“You want a baby,” he said simply, shrugging, “I want a baby. So let’s make a baby, yeah?”

He paused right underneath the doorway of the lounge, grinning at you deviously and flicking his eyes up. You followed his gaze, perceiving the familiar mistletoe hanging above your heads and chuckling slightly, shaking your head at his antics.

“Yeah,” you breathed as Michael leaned forward, his lips brushing against yours, “Let’s make a baby.”

anonymous asked:

Cody is the only guy I would ever be okay with having facial hair because it really suits him lmao

true, he’s the only guy i like w a beard but at the same time i’m partial to his clean shaven face and love when he gets rid of the facial hair

Kosie Fluff | Marry Me


PG | PG-13 | R


Kaden&Josie | Marry Me

“I like this. Being with you.” I mumbled, leaning my head on Kadens shoulder. He rests his head atop mine, and I hear the boy I love sigh with content.
“Me too. I could stay here forever,” He spoke softly, making my heart swell. I looked up at his freshly shaven face, moving my gaze to take in the increible sunset we had come to watch on top of Le Reculet, a small mountain in Vognes, France. We initially came to visit Ahren and Camille, but ended up staying an extra week to backpack around eastern France just to be alone with eachother.
I can’t get enough of him to the point where it becomes terrifying. Every word–every syllable that leaves his beautiful lips is as important as the syllable prior. It feels like some sort of obsession, but I can’t help it. He is my moom, my sun, and every shimmering star in the sky.
“Wow,” I sighed, watching the sun split in half between the sky and the earth.
“It’s beaufitul,” He kissed my hair, making me smile a little.
“You’re beautiful,” I commented and looked up at him. He slid his hand to rest on my neck and brought our lips together, kissing me lustfuly, speaking words beyond our capability. A picture perfect moment, the ones you find only in movies. Thats what it feels like with him. Magical. He feels like a love I never knew was possible.
“Josie?” I rested my head on his shoulder again,
“Yes, babe?” I asked,
He breathed audibly, “Sometimes I think that god didn’t let Kyle and Eadlyn fall in love becuase he knew that it would happen to us, you know? Becuase if they were married, we wouldn’t be able to do this. We couldnt be Kaden and Josie, or as Osten says, "Kosie”. We could only be Kaden, and Josie. And that comma makes a big difference Josie,“ He kept his gaze on the horizon as he spoke.
"Who needs comma’s? Am I right?” I joked, giggling a little at my own joke.
“Not the time for jokes Jo,” He exhaled heavily, using my kickname that belongs to only him “but fuck is your laugh really cute,” He smiled and nussled his nose into my hair before kissing my head and looking at the sunet again.
“Im really glad your sister banned Kyle from the castle,” I bit down on my lip, looking at our entertwined feet that lay stretched out in front of us.
“Me too,”
“I can’t beleive we’re going back in two days,” I mentioned, and after a few comfortably silent minutes of thinking about our recent adventures, he broke the silence
“Marry me,” He said nanchalantly, not taking his gaze away from the sunset.
“Im sorry, what?”
“Marry me, Josie,”
“B-but Kaden, we can’t. Not right now at least, im seventeen and thats really, truthfuly, way too early to get married. I can’t get married right now Kaden, I just cant. My dad would flip, and my mother would never forgive me. I love you, but I can’t,” I explained quickly, hoping I wouldn’t offend him. It was just way too early.
“Not right now,” He laughed, “I dont even have a ring–although I already know what yours will look like. Just, promise me we’ll get married? Whenever your ready, and you’re right, we are a little young, hell I can’t even make myself breakfast. But Josie, I really can’t imagine a life without you being in it. So, in the future, I would really, really like to marry you,” He spoke calmly, looking down at me.
I curled into his body, kissing the side of his chest “Mrs Kaden Schreave, I like the sound of that,”
“Mrs Josie Schreave sounds even better, in my opinion,” He giggled, biting down on his lip.
“I think your right, the future Mr Kaden Woodwork,” I laughed, nuzzling my head into his side.
He really laughed at that one, making me smile “Mr and Mrs Josie Woodwork,” he mumbled, then giggled again. I smiled, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. I was in love with the right person, and everything felt wholeheartedly right.

Packing for Tour

a/n: This is the first part of my new Luke Series, Tour Life with Luke. There will be more parts to come that pertain to concepts revolved around what it would be like to travel the world with your beautiful goof of a boyfriend. Enjoy! xx

Read other parts here.

“How am I supposed to fit everything I need in one suitcase Lu?” you exasperated, looking in bewilderment at the scattered mess surrounding you, compiled of clothes, shoes, toiletries, and more clothes.

Seconds later, your boyfriend steps out of your bathroom in nothing but his State Champs gym shorts, with a razor in his hand and a half shaven face. The other side still covered in the white, foamed shaving cream you bought him on the way home.

“Baby it’s not that hard.” Luke tried reasoning with you, smiling at your pouting face and scrunched up nose. “I’ll help you here in a few minutes when I finish.” He promised, indicating towards the razor in his grip before walking back in your bathroom to get rid of the beard that had reached the “it’s time to go” phase.

“Thank you!” you called out, sighing in utter exhaustion and frustration before trying to gather your must haves; however, in your eyes, everything was a must.

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