she has a good smile

4

Good Day covering Aju Nice

6
#StopRegina’sSuffering2k17
Huntress in the Snow

What if Rhys had met Feyre back when she was still a little girl, alone in the woods and hunting for her family? Inspired by this beautiful work of art, here’s the hypothetical meeting between an abused, tired Rhysand and a tiny Feyre.

 

Rhysand rarely leaves Amarantha’s court Under the Mountain.

He rarely leaves her bedroom, for that matter. Life is just a frenzy of lies, sex, dancing, drinking, hatred and torture these days and he has long given up on making his existence bearable. He doesn’t really care anymore.

He doesn’t care for the stares they give him, the names. He doesn’t care for those pitying glances. He doesn’t care when Amarantha is straddling him, using him, her fingers pulling his hair.

Spring Court is covered in masks right now, but Rhysand might as well be wearing one, too. He doesn’t recognize himself in the mirror anymore. He murmurs things in her ears, he lies, promises, he kills on her behalf, he smirks and laughs and betrays, and he isn’t sure he can ever get back from that.

He’s doing it for Velaris and his beloved ones. That is what he tells himself, over and over and over again, when he’s buried inside her or when he snaps someone’s neck. It’s the only reason he’s still holding on. Velaris. Mor. Amren. His brothers. His court.

Court of Dreams. It’s like a bitter joke, ashes in his mouth. He doesn’t know if he will ever see them again. Doesn’t know if he wants to- after what he’s done.  

He probably won’t ever see them again. This nightmare will never end.

Life is miserable. Rhys doesn’t care.

With the way things are developing right now, his old enemy Tamlin is going to join them in a few years- 42 years have passed and that fool, that idiotic fool hasn’t managed to break the curse. If he realizes that he could save them all, Rhysand doesn’t know. Perhaps Tamlin is just trying to protect those he loves as well. Perhaps he’s trying- perhaps he’s fighting.

Perhaps he’s not.

Rhysand doesn’t care.

He also doesn’t care that Amarantha sends him to the human realm today. To find a group of fae from Dawn Court that have escaped; find them, bring them to her, watch her torture and kill them and fuck her afterwards. It’s nothing to him. He’ll play his part. He’ll be urgent and passionate- I’ve been aching for you, my queen, my everything, woman of my dreams- only you, only ever you- he’ll make her scream his name and kiss her afterwards.

All the while, he’ll be somewhere else. He’ll be talking to Amren, quietly. He’ll be drinking with Cass and Azriel, playing cards. He’ll be dancing with Mor. He’ll be walking through the streets of Velaris.

That’s the only thing he has. And even those memories are further and further away from him with each passing day. Rhysand is afraid that he’ll wake up some morning and find that there’s no fight left inside him- that he’ll just give up.

He looks around.

He’s in a forest, close to the wall. It’s spring, but snow still covers the trees and the ground. He will encounter no humans here- none of them would be so foolish, so daring to get this close to the wall. He sits down next to a stream, closes his eyes and just doesn’t think. A few, scattered moments of peace- he takes what he gets.

Just a few moments. Then he’ll hunt those poor bastards down.

Feyre is twelve, and she’s been roaming this forest for a year now. She’s been following the village’s hunters; copy the way they set their snarls, carry their bows. She has a dream: she’ll hunt so much food her father will get better again. Nesta and Elain will get fatter, rounder, and they will both find very handsome men to marry. Then it’ll be Feyre and her father, and she’ll hunt for him while he reads at home, and in the evening, she’ll cook for him and paint a little.

So far, she hasn’t ever shot anything bigger than a rabbit, and that one time was on accident. The snarls are what works better.

Nesta turned fifteen yesterday. Feyre knows her sister has hoped their father would say something, but he has forgotten all of their birthdays. Nesta has looked like murder all day long. Elain tried to talk to her, but she locked herself in their room.

Elain and Nesta are very sad, Feyre knows that. They remember more of their mother and they talk about her sometimes, exchanging bits and pieces of who she used to be. In the beginning, right after they moved into the little hut at the village’s edge, they tried to be there for her- but they have too much to worry about, now. They never even play with each other. They don’t thank her when she brings food home.

Feyre makes her way through the trees. She must always stay away from the wall- dangerous creatures are there, fae. She’s so afraid of them she has nightmares sometimes.

But today, some inner voice tells her that the wall is not dangerous. That no fae will hurt her. And almost by themselves, their feet make her walk closer and closer to the buzzing, invisible thing that separates their human world from the fae.

When she comes onto a clearing, she sees a man. He is sitting on a fallen tree branch next to a river and his head his lowered, almost as if he were praying. He doesn’t carry weapons, but his clothes are fine and elegant- he must be a rich merchant, lost in the woods.

Perhaps she’ll get a reward if she leads him out of here. Curiosity gets the better of her. “Are you okay?”, she calls over to him, and that is the exact same moment he looks up and meets her eyes.

It knocks the breath out of her. He’s a fae. His ears are long and pointed, and there is something otherworldly in his features that marks him as different.

This is it. She is going to die. Nesta and Elain and her father will starve because she’s not there anymore. How could she be so careless, hunting so close to the wall?

The man takes in her unwashed hair, her threadbare clothes, her make-shift bow. “You should not be here”, he rasps. “You should run.”

Feyre tries to be a still as she can be. The man doesn’t get up, doesn’t come closer. As if he knows that she’ll start screaming if he does.

“Go”, he commands, angry. “Don’t ever come here again. Understand me? Don’t go into the forest at all. Stay at home.”

And she should do just that, run until she’s far away from him, but…

“I have to”, Feyre says. “I have to hunt.”

“No, you don’t. A small girl like you should stay with her family.”

“You don’t understand.” She steps closer, her bow still ready in her hand. “My family will starve if I don’t. I am doing all of this for them.”

The man breathes in, sharply, and she swears that she sees devastation in his eyes. “What?”

“My father can’t take care of us.” Why the words are spilling from her mouth like that, Feyre doesn’t know. “And my sisters are scared. I have to be strong, even when I’m afraid- for them.”

The man stares at her.

“Are you going to hurt me?”, Feyre asks. She tries to hide that she is scared of that fae. She tries to pretend that she could shoot him, if she wanted.

He shakes his head, slowly. “Of course not.”

“What are you doing here, then? Shouldn’t fae be on the other side of the wall?”

The man smiles a bitter smile. “Usually, we should. But I…was allowed a little freedom today.”

“Are you a hunter, too?”

He closes his eyes. “I suppose.”

“Then you’re a little bit like me.”

“Well.” He laughs. “Not really. But I am doing this for my family, too. All of this.”

Feyre doesn’t know why, but for some strange reason, it makes her very happy that the man has a family. That he’s not alone.

“That’s good”, she smiles. “You should go be with them, not sit in the forest by yourself.”

He nods. “You’re right, of course. As should you.”

Feyre steps as close to him as she dares. The fae is very pretty, she realizes. All the older village girls would probably be in love with him. But he looks sad, she thinks, and she doesn’t know why, but it makes her heart ache a little. She wants him smiling.

“Here.” The fae nods his head and suddenly, a basket filled with bread and meat appears in the snow. “Take that home to your family. It should give you enough food to eat for the next few weeks. I can’t- I wish I could do more. But my hands are quite literally tied.”

“Is this some sort of trick?”, Feyre asks. “Some bargain? Some fairy magic?”

The fae shakes his head, a flicker of amusement on his face. “No bargain, little girl. Although I’m impressed you’re already so wary for your age.”

Feyre picks up the basket. This is better than the time she shot the rabbit. This is all of her birthdays combined. “Thank you- what’s your name?”

“Rhys”, he says, looking at his hands. “That’s what my friends call me.”

“That family you told me about?”

“Yes”, Rhys says softly. “My family.”

Feyre smiles at him. It comes so easy, the smile- because something deep inside her core tells her that she doesn’t need to be afraid of him. And she trusts that. “Thank you, Rhys. Your family is lucky to have you. You just saved mine today.”

He still looks so very sad. “Then that’s something”, he says hoarsely. “Before you go- one thing.”

And suddenly there are talons in her head, and she can’t move anymore.

“It’ll be over in a few moments”, Rhys says. “But I can’t let you remember me. She’ll find out, somehow. She’ll break you just for fun.”

Some white blanket is thrown over her mind, and the next second, Feyre finds herself alone in the woods.

What just happened? Why is she here?

Oh, yes- she remembers- the rich merchant who she met on her way here showed mercy and handed her the basket-

What on earth is she doing so close to the wall?

Feyre turns around and runs. Today is such a good day. She feels happy, not just because of the gift…but because of something else.

And maybe she can get through all of this.

Maybe she’ll find a way out of this someday.  

Rhys has never done something like this, but he forces himself to forget her. He pushes her image into the very, very back of his mind, he uses his magic on himself and forces himself to forget about that girl in the snow, that tiny, little huntress.

Because for some reason, he knows that she is important. For what, he doesn’t know. But he’ll do what it takes to keep her hidden from Amarantha.  

It makes him cry out in pain to use those talons on himself, but-

Rhys finds himself standing somewhere in the forest.

Why is he still here? He should go- hunt those Dawn fae down.

There’s a weird feeling of goodness in the back of his mind. Of happiness. And he remembers- that those he loves are out there. That somehow, someday, he’ll see them again. That there is a reason for everything.

He feels hope, and he doesn’t know why.

I have to be strong, even when I’m afraid- for them, whispers a voice inside his head. He knows who said it-

A girl-

He can’t remember. But that feeling lingers.

That night, when Amarantha is on top of him, moving and moaning about how good this feels after a kill, all he can think is the clock is ticking, you bitch. You’ll go down soon. Someone will come and end you.

When she leaves him, he showers and washes her scent off him. Someone is out there, he thinks. Someone good. This world is not completely lost. And for some reason, he cares again. Cares about what happens. Cares about who wins. Suddenly, he wants to fight.

That night, he has the strangest dream. It’s a hand, unpacking a basket full of bread, apples and meat. A small hand; a child’s hands. But it makes him so inexplicably happy he thinks about that dream for days.

A few years later, when Rhysand has long forgotten about everything, he dreams of that same hand again.

Only this time that delicate, female hand is drawing flowers on a table.

And something inside Rhysand whispers, soon.

Soon.

Soon.

you are alive.

I want you to look at yourself for a moment. Look at your arms and your legs and your nails and your thighs and your ankles and everything. Notice the dots on your arms, the scars on your legs, the chipped nails. 

I want you to think about the things you can’t see about yourself for a moment. Think about the way you smile at strangers and your pep talks to your friends and how you raised money for cancer and how you love but most of all I want you to think about your heart. The physical organ. The one that is beating inside your chest providing oxygen and nutrients and keeping you alive.

I want you to say that out loud. “I am alive.”

You are still alive.

I know that life is not always fair. Actually, it is really quite unfair a lot. And I know you may have gone through tragedies that I may not be able to conceptualize in my head - so horrifying they have been. And I know I can’t tell you to just get over it, because that’s a terrible thing to do.

But I do know that you are alive. And as long as you are alive, you are meant to do something. If you were truly irrelevant, you would not have been born. You have a purpose. 

Find that purpose. Find your way again.

“The two most important days in your life are the day you were born and the day you find out why.”

Originally posted by riverdales-daily

Can we talk about this moment right here? Look how happy she is! Her eyes light up, her face is shining, she’s smiling with the realization that she finally has something good in her life and she’s so darn grateful for it! She- Betty Cooper - whose life sucked big-time - the boy she was crushing on broke her heart, her dad was acting crazy, her controlling mom is totally out of control, her sister who she loves more than anyone was confined to a home and is now pregnant, hurt and missing! Add to that her own battle with anxiety and the pressure of school. It’s hard enough for an adult, forget a teen! In all of this mess, it’s a miracle she can smile at all, let alone beam like the light of a million suns! And Jughead Jones, ladies and gentleman, is responsible for that look on her face!

She’s over the moon that she finally has someone she likes who likes her back! Someone that makes her feel protected, supported, wanted, loved. Someone who will always have her back, someone who’s her clarity and someone that puts her first! Don’t you think this sweet, kind, beautiful cupcake deserves that?

Don’t you think THIS tortured, troubled cinnamon bun deserves to smile like this all the time?

Originally posted by erinkalsman

Don’t you think these two adorable, precious puppies deserve to be happy above anything else?  

Originally posted by 140598

untitled #1

local gay spends the night at his crush’s house, what happens next will warm your heart

tags: high school au, pining keith


@freedom-of-peaches


The one thing Keith knows is that Lance smells amazing.

It’s first thing Keith had noticed about him. He smells like lavender; it’s his shampoo, Keith found out after spending the night at Lance’s in freshman year. The sweet smell reminds him of those Lush stores Shiro used to drag him to. Shiro’d ask him which conditioner he should buy for Keith because yes, Keith, you should take of yourself. Keith would point to whatever and try not to stare at the gorgeous employees. He likes the loud ones, with nice bright smiles and lips that aren’t chapped, pretty boys with–

“Hey, Keith-a-roo, are you listening to me?”

Keep reading

“I remember it so well. I thought I was five years old, but there is a dated photograph and it turns out that I was three at the time.
My sister is four years older, and my parents let us go into this room, and there were two bicycles—a little one and a bigger one and the little bicycle was beautiful. It was purple and sparkly and it had little streamers on the handlebars. My first thought was, ‘Ah, such a beautiful bicycle!’ I was filled with awe at its beauty.
And my second thought—in fact it was almost immediate and tied to the first one—was, ‘Well, obviously this is not for me.’
I immediately shut down any expectations. I was certain that it was not for me, and I would probably get into trouble for even touching it. But then my mom said, ‘Come on, go ahead, sit on the bike.’
So I sat on the bicycle, and my mom was trying to take a picture to show my joy but I wasn’t feeling joy—I was anxious and confused.
My sister had already known about the bicycle, because she had peaked, and she was older, she knew better, so she played the game. She had this expression that says, ‘Oh my goodness this is amazing!’ and she has the big smile because she knows that’s the deal— the cost of the bike is to smile for the camera.
I was uncertain why my mom was making me sit on this bicycle and then, when I realized that it was mine—a gift for my third birthday—I felt this terrible sorrow and shame, that I was the sort of person who couldn’t just be grateful and happy that this beautiful bike was mine.
This probably sounds unbelievable to someone else—it sounds unbelievable to me—except I remember it so well. So she takes the photo and I’m smiling, but inside I was weeping really, really hard. I was barely hanging on to the smile and I was good at suppressing tears.
It was as if I was thinking ‘This is what I’ve come to?’ It sounds ridiculous if I am three, but that’s the best I can articulate it—I didn’t have the words. I felt sorrow that I was—not cynical, but so used to turning off desire and expecting not just nothing but expecting poor treatment. And the notion that something good could be for me was so foreign that I rejected it out of hand.
On top of that, I felt I had disappointed my mom because I was supposed to be excited like my sister.”

(Part II)

Canton, MA

anonymous asked:

Ohhh your hc are adorable! If you have time, can I request the RFA being with an mc who has dazzling lucky smile and everytime she smiles something good happens? Like, the next hour Zen gets a cool role, Yoosung passed an exam, 707 ate a salad and enjoyed it, etc lol. Pls take your time :3

Thank you, anon! I’ll do my best!
*This is a very cute request!!*

I’ve been in a huge Vanderwood-loving mood so I added him I ‘ m s o r r y


Yoosung:

  • You are the cutest, stop he’s gonna die
  • Your smile is already his favorite thing to see
  • But is also carries some sort of magical power with it???
  • Are you an LOLOL hero in disguise??
  • If he’s sitting in class and he sneaks on his phone, he usually asks you to text him a picture of you smiling
  • “I’ve sent you three already!”
  • “Just in case!!”
  • Before every LOLOL match, he needs to see you smile!!

Zen:

  • He’s convinced you’re hiding some sort of crystal ball that he doesn’t know about
  • Or that maybe your parents were magical oracles that passed their magic onto you?
  • He thinks you’re an actual angel sent to bless him with love and good luck???
  • “Zen don’t overwork yours-” “Hey! I heal like a monster and you’ve got that gorgeous lucky grin?? I’ll be fine, jagiya ~” 
  • Yeah and then when he comes home with his arm in a cast, he doesn’t get to see that smile because YOU TOLD HIM.
  • *Unless he pouts and guilt-trips you into letting him*
  • *then….maybe*

Jaehee:

  • When you guys first met, she was really reallllyy skeptical
  • A magic/lucky smile? Eh..Coincidences 
  • But those coincidences seem to be happening a lot
  • She never really starts to believe it
  • However
  • Every now and then, she’ll ask to see you smile and if you’re like “….it’s lucky isn’t it?”
  • and immediately denies and proceeds to tell you that it’s…just…because…you know- can you just please smile 
  • Usually, on top of seeing your smile, she takes a night to pray and hope that she doesn’t have to watch Elizabeth the next day
  • “It’s no use..”
  • The next day rolls around and oh my god it worked?????

Jumin:

  • In the chatroom, before you guys got together, he thought it was ridiculous
    707: Jumin!!! Trust in the lucky smile!!!
    Jumin Han: I don’t believe in such nonsense.
  • Not yet you don’t, Jumin
  • Once you’re actually living with him though, he starts to see what everyone’s talking about
  • What you’re talking about
  • so one day he just pops up in the chatroom like
  • Jumin Han: I am starting to sense a pattern here.
  • *Zen likes to say it’s all BALONEY but only because he’s jealous that Jumin gets all the luck and he gets none?? Why does Jumin deserve it more than he does??* 

Seven:

  • “MY HONEY IS A WIZARD!”
  • “Let me see that beautiful face, honey!!! Those shiny teeth! Maybe I won’t get so much work, today~”
  • Saeyoung…..uses so much flattery just to see it
  • Sometimes you wonder if it’s actually about the luck instead of just wanting to see your grin
  • “Wait, so if you smirk, then does something magically naughty happen?”
  • Magically naughty.
  • Magically.
  • Naughty.
  • He sort of has a point but at the same time you wanna smack him over the head with a thick roll of newspaper because oh my god he’s ridiculous??

Vanderwood: 

  • “Hey, did you know I have a lucky smile?”
  • “That’s..not possible-”
  • But then you grin at him
  • and holy shit the heaven gates have opened????
  • He has to double check himself, his cheeks all red from blushing, turn away, proceed to occupy his attention with something else because if he keeps looking at you then he might just pass out
  • “I-It doesn’t matter how nice it is. Anything like that is merely a coincidence..N-Now go do something and stop bothering me!! Go..k-keep yourself busy..”
  • You’re not offended because whenever you do something like this, he gets sheepish quicker than you could recite his full name and it is so cute and so obvious no matter how hard he tries to hide it
2

holy heck! one hundo followers! what a beautiful day for this dumb little blog.

i’m sure you don’t want to see the proprietor of weirdzootopiaframes dot tumblr dot com get too mushy or anything, so i’ll be brief. this truly excellent film has, over the course of a little over a year, cultivated a truly excellent fandom. and i don’t say that lightly. fandoms are often garbage fires! fandoms are usually garbage fires! but this one is amazing, brimming with enthusiasm and creativity and just lovely people. maybe it’s because the message of the film is so great, stressing inclusion and communication. or maybe it’s because we all rally around one really solid ship instead of getting into slapfights over who judy should marry. (”what ship?” “wildehopps!”) whatevs.

point being; running this blog has been a lot of fun, and most of that is reading people’s comments and riffs on the posts i make. keep being great, zootopia fandom. you’re the best.

ravnclaws  asked:

Hi, Rhiannon! I'd love to see what you do with Jily + #4! xx

‘blow my heart out’

#4: “If he’s going to treat you like shit I’m going to kick his ass.”

For some reason I actually have inspiration??? probs because I’m meant to be doing coursework, oops. Anyways, here ya go!

canon (sixth year)

“If he’s going to treat you like shit I’m going to kick his arse.” Marlene says loudly, too loudly.

Lily rolls her eyes, “He’s not going to treat me like shit.”

“Who’s going to treat you like shit, Evans?” Potter has appeared, of course, and Marlene smiles because that’s what she wanted.

“None of your business,” she says, trying not to look at him.

They’re on their way to Hogsmeade, the first trip of the new year, and Potter has jogged to catch up with him, abandoning the other Marauders several metres behind. They catch up now, Sirius scowling at James.

“If he’s going to treat you like shit it is!” Potter sounds indignant.

“Who’s treating her like shit?” Peter and Remus ask in unison.

“Davey Gudgeon,” Marlene supplies, ever the traitor.

Potter splutters. “Gudgeon? Davey Gudgeon?”

“Jealous?” Peter asks, because they all know it’s true. Except for Lily, who just speeds up.

Keep reading

good times

bughead fanfiction - unbeta’d - oneshot

▱◯♕

“Important encounters are planned
by the souls long before the bodies
see each other.”
—Paulo Coelho

Jughead Jones has a specific spot at his local diner.

He has a routine every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. He wakes up, goes to his morning class, spends the next three hours at a 50’s themed diner named ‘Good Times’, goes back to campus for his final two classes before retiring back to his dorm for an evening of video games, studying or Netflix binging.

He’s been a regular for the past two years since moving to Atlanta, Georgia.

The owner of the restaurant knows him by name. The employees know his order by heart and they take no offense to his poor socializing skills—or rather, lack thereof. And while he has no literal claim to the small booth by the restaurant’s main window facing the city, Jughead knows that most people who frequent the establishment know that table is his.

So it’s a bit of a surprise when, on a regular Monday morning, Jughead discovers someone’s sitting in his booth.

Keep reading

twitter-hikari  asked:

aaaargh.....one knows that they are rare pair trash when that's the essential ships for the majority of their fandoms? How dare you entice me to love George/Suzanne! It makes me have feels. 💞💖💘I'm only sorry that there isn't more content.

Okay here’s more! (AU tag)

George is looking after Dicky at home while Suzanne picks her mother-in-law up at the airport. When they come in the front door she smiles up from a welter of building blocks as Dicky comes running to meet his mama and his MooMaw. Suzanne hands her child over to Linda for full hugs and kisses and carries her suitcase through the door, smiling nervously at George, who rises to her feet and dusts her hands off.

Richard’s mother makes a point of coming up to New York every few months to see her grandchild and stock Suzanne’s freezer. Suzanne’s still not really used to the level of love and support they’re willing to pour out for her; it’s one thing to help somebody who lives the next town over, but another to travel nine hundred miles.

“I’ve told you about Georgia,” Suzanne says as Linda comes over. “She’s my hockey player friend, she’s a real help with Dicky.” Which Dicky proves; as the two women shake hands and greet each other he leans over and grabs hold of Georgia’s shirt like he wants to be handed over.  

George rights him in his MooMaw’s arms and presses a little kiss to his head. “I’ll head home now.”

“You won’t stay to dinner?” Linda asks, which is… kind of her, though not exactly what they need right now.  They had this planned ahead of time, so George smiles and says she really has to go, mouths ‘good luck’ as Suzanne shows her out.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

And what about Éponine durning R and Enj marriage? And when they have kids and she became aunt?

  • Eponine is the friend who tells Grantaire to pull himsef together on the day of his wedding. Of course Enjolras still loves him. Of course it’s the good decision. Of course I will tie your bowtie for you beccause your hands are shaking
  • Honestly, choosing a bestperson was horribly complicated because they have so many friends to choose from and don’t want to upset anyone, so Grantaire’s were Eponine, Joly and Bossuet, and Enjolras’ were Courfeyrac and Combeferre. They were all colour coordinated it was beautiful
  • (Jehan and Courfeyrac insisted to through biodegradable confetti and seaweed based glitter because protect the planet, kids)
  • Eponine was the only one not crying because she has a good pokerface, but she did smile the entire time because her best friend is SO HAPPY
  • Also, when Enjolras and Grantaire get Apolline, she’s the BEST.AUNT
  • Well… Auntie Musichetta does cook the best food, but other than that!!
  • She gossips with baby Apolline while she styles her hair. “And they were roommates” “DadaDaga”
  • Looks badass with aviator glasses, leather jacket and black baby carrier
  • Courfeyrac and Eponine battle to try out the best snapchat filters on Apolline
fanfiction.net
Married at First Sight Chapters 1-3
Ask, and you shall receive...A young Rick and Michonne are newlyweds, chosen for one another by their respective communities. Can they navigate the waters of an arranged marriage to become the power couple of the apocalypse? Or will the world they live in undo them before they can even begin? A AU zombie story and continuation of a prompt from We're the Ones Who Live.

So many of you asked so nicely, how could I say no?

@riseuprichonne‘s wonderful prompt is now a full-length fic in progress. Look for updates from here on out.

Originally posted by musethedead

A Sneak Preview at Chapter 3:


“Careful,” Rick was below her, holding onto her thigh tightly.

“I’m good,” Michonne glanced down at him. You would have thought she was attempting to climb a mountain without equipment by the look on her husband’s face. He was squinting up at her, his brow furrowed, one hand out and ready to catch her if she fell. “It’s just a tree,” she reminded him, shimmying upwards.

“It is,” he agreed, still dancing nervously beneath her. “I just don’t want you to fall.”

“I think you’re just enjoying the view,” she teased. His hand slipped down her leg as she continued her assent, testing the branches gingerly before she rested her weight on them.

“Can’t deny that,” his accent took on a deeper timbre, one that Michonne was beginning to recognize as his bedroom voice. Heat pooled in her stomach as memories came rushing back. It was a wonder she could climb at all, considering her soreness. She was suddenly hyper-aware of places she’d never paid much attention to before this, hyper-aware of Rick’s response to her.

She looked down again, her smile almost instinctive. He grinned right back at her.

“How’s it looking?” he called up a few minutes later.

Michonne settled on a particularly thick branch, glancing up over the wall. It was ideal, really. “You can see at least a hundred yards off from here. In every direction,” her smile widened as she looked back at him.

“Then this is where we’ll put it,” he was already reaching for her.

“We should think about a second look-out, maybe on the eastern wall,” she began her descent, carefully finding her footing.

“I was thinking we could use the town-hall building,” Rick lifted his arms, his hand settling on her lower back as she swung down to the ground. “The tower on top there could be perfect. We could make it a headquarters.”

“Is that where you want to keep the armory?” she questioned, accepting her katana from him. She secured it over her shoulder.

He nodded, idly plucking a leaf from her hair. “I think we should find a separate place for the pantry.”

“Good idea,” she felt absurd at how hard she was smiling, but she couldn’t help it. “Spread the wealth.”

He looked pleased that she understood. “Exactly,” he left his hand on her waist, his thumb rubbing light circles. Michonne swallowed, trying to calm herself. She wondered if this was normal, the intense attraction she felt. It had been a week, and every time she fell into bed with Rick, the sensation increased. She’d been around men before, even had a boyfriend for a few months, but never had it felt like this. She’d been worried that they wouldn’t be compatible, that their relationship would be one of convenience and not passion.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked her, grinning lopsidedly. She liked that smile, liked that she had never seen it before their wedding. Rick, though serious when the moment called for it, seemed like a goofball at heart.

“Do you think this is normal?” she came right out with the question.

“Do I think what is normal?” he brushed a hand over his face. A week’s worth of growth now dusted his cheeks. Michonne found that she liked the effect quite a bit.

“How we’ve been the last few days,” her throat tightened in embarrassment. It was absurd, really. By now, there was no part of her body he hadn’t seen, but she was still shy at discussing it.

“Well,” he shrugged slightly, “It feels normal to me.” He drove his statement home by reaching for her hand. She easily twisted her fingers around his.

“Do you think it will last?” She wondered how many times a day the average couple had sex, if they were using it all up and would simply grow tired of one another. She’d heard other people complain about it, older couples who couldn’t find the time anymore.

“I hope so,” Rick tilted his head in her direction, his eyes darkening in the way that they so often did before he kissed her. “I can’t imagine I’m going to get tired of it.” He smirked at her, his eyes raking over her form.

“Really?” she challenged playfully. “You were pretty tired this morning.”

“Damn, woman,” he rolled his eyes, scoffing. “You keep me up all night and just expect me to perform on command?” he was clearly teasing and Michonne laughed.

“Sorry,” she didn’t plan on waking up feeling like that. There was something about coming alive in the mornings to him pressed against her that got her engine going. “I don’t think I’ll get tired of it either,” she admitted.

He kissed the hand still wrapped in his own. “I didn’t expect this to be so easy,” he remarked.

“Me neither,” she whispered, accepting a hug from him. Their honeymoon period was drawing to a close. The sound of trucks in the distance heralded the arrival of future citizens of their little community, of their parents and the leaders of the sister cities. The real world was coming in.

“Are you ready?” he nuzzled her hair. Michonne suddenly felt the urge to run backwards towards their house. She clung to him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I hope so,” she mumbled into his shirt, the denim soothing on her cheeks. In truth, she was incredibly nervous. It was one thing to remain sequestered, but in this world, fairytales didn’t last long.

“Hey,” Rick tilted her chin up. She took him in, his curly dark hair, his blue eyes and straight nose, the dimple in his chin just visible beneath the scruff. “This is going to be fine,” she watched his lips shape the words. “We can do this.”

“Ok,” she nodded, still worrying.

“Michonne,” she liked how he said her name. “This has been a good week.”

She smiled, toying with the denim collar of his shirt. “Let’s do it again sometime.” She leaned up, intending to give him a chaste kiss before they headed to the gate. Rick had other intentions. He cupped her face between his palms, tilting his head to deepen their liplock. Michonne felt her heart begin to race immediately. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself up. “Let’s go home,” she begged him breathily.

The sounds of car horns began to ring from the front gate. Rick laughed against her mouth. “Tonight,” he promised her. “There’s a few people you have to meet first.”

Sebastian Aho #1 - Little One

Originally posted by artemiaddict

A/N: Eh 2 imagines in one day! I really enjoyed writing this one, it is super cute and I started to get into the groove of it much better so enjoy!

for @sportsxnetflix can you write me a imagine about sebastian aho where the reader is an athletic trainer and when the reader and sebastian are in pnc she sees a lost kid and helps him and i have no for what else? (can they be dating)

Hope you like it!

_X_

“Seb! I swear to god, if you keep putting that sweaty towel in my face I’m not massaging your legs before tonight’s game!” you threw the offending towel back at your retreating boyfriend who was laughing at your expense.

“Aw, come on (Y/N),” Sebastian Aho grinned at you, “You could never resist the opportunity to touch me.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at you

“Ew, you two are so gross.” Teuvo Teräväinen pretended to gag beside you

“Hey, I’m not the gross one! Blame Sepe.” you accused

“Whatever, I have a gym session with you after video today right?” Teuvo asked you.

“Yup, I’ll be there in 15, so come up whenever.” you told him before waving good bye. Seb walked back to your side, took your hand in his again, and kissed the side of your head as you continued to walk around in the back halls of the PNC. You sighed and leaned into Sebastian’s shoulder. This was one of your favourite parts about being an athletic trainer for the ‘Canes, you got to spend all your time with your loving boyfriend instead of having to deal with all of the drama that normal NHL relationships go through due to separation and busy schedules. You continued walking while Sepe was asking you about who you had to see today for injuries or just maintenance appointments. That was when you saw her, a little blonde girl, probably not much older than 5, running her fingertips along the concrete wall, looking completely lost in daydream. Both you and Sebastian stopped in your tracks and shared looks of confusion, as there was no one else in sight that could possibly be watching this cute girl.

You walked cautiously up to her and crouched down to her level, “Hey sweetie, what are you doing?”

The girl stopped right in her tracks blinked a couple times at you, looked around at her surroundings and then all of a sudden you could see the panic and tears welling up in the little girl’s eyes, “I-I-I was playing imagination and I thought I was s-still with mommy!” she stuttered out tears starting to fall onto her cheeks as she got more and more worked up.  

“Oh, it’s okay sweetie! You’re safe with us, we can help you find your mom.” you comforted. At the mention of ‘we’ Seb knelt down next to you.

“Y-You’re S-Sebastian Aho.” the little girl furiously wiped at tears

Sebastian smiled warmly at the kid and nodded.

“Y-you’re my favourite hockey player!” her eyes widened in admiration making Seb smile even bigger, “Can I have a hug?” she asked and Seb swept her up in his arms gently. The girl started to smile through some of the remaining tears and gripped around his neck tightly. When she didn’t let go, Sebastian chuckled and stood up, picking the little girl up with him and setting her against his hip. This caused her to put a big smile on her face while she wiped away the last of her tears.

“What’s your name little one?” He smiled

“Rosie.” she answered

“What are you doing here Rosie?” You asked from the other side of Seb

“Well, my baby sitter cancelled this morning and my mom said she needed to do something about ‘sound check’ and my friend was away today at her grandparent’s so I had to come to work with her today.” Rosie babbled

“Oh! Are you Amanda’s daughter?” you asked.

“Yes! Amanda is my mom’s name! oh, she’s going to be mad when she finds out I left where she told me to sit.”

“I’m sure she’ll just be happy to have you back little one.” Sebastian said as he bounced her, making Rosie laugh, “Who is Amanda?” Sebastian asked you

“She’s the anthem singer. I think she’d be doing her sound check on the ice now.” you answered, “Let’s get this little munchkin back ok?” you smiled at Rosie before leading the way through the arena.

As you were walking and asking Rosie some questions to keep her entertained, she suddenly spoke up, “Are you in love?”

That made you do a double-take. Wow, you forgot how blunt kids could be. Sebastian, the champ that he is, just chuckled softly and pretend-whispered into the small girl’s ear. “I love (Y/N) to the moon and back but I haven’t told her yet.”

The girl nodded solemnly like she understood the inner workings of all adult relationships, “I think you should tell her.” she whispered back

“And why is that little one?” he asked

“Because she’s blushing right now!” the girl giggled. Sebastian met your eyes where you were desperately trying to stop yourself from turning into a fire hydrant.

That was just the moment when you turned the corner and saw Amanda Bell, the Hurricane’s anthem singer running around frantically, presumably looking for her mischievous daughter.

“MOMMY!” Rosie yelled from Sebastian’s arms and wiggled in his grasp until he put her down. She sprinted down the hall to where you could see her mom let out a big sigh of relief before crouching down to scoop up her little one in her arms and pepper kisses all over her squealing face.

“Thank you guys so much!” she sighed when you caught up with her, “I was worried sick.”

“No worries,” Sebastian smiled easily. “I love kids, and she has good taste in hockey players.” he winked at you.

“Don’t I know it!” Amanda laughed, “she refuses to go to a game without her Aho jersey. Anyways, we have to run. Thank you guys again.” she waved and darted in the opposite direction, Rosie smiling and waving at us over her mom’s shoulders.

“So… I don’t think my heart can handle you with kids, too damn cute.” you smiled up at Sepe.

“Well, you better get used to it.” he leaned down and kissed the tip of your nose.

“Why is that?”

“Because I love you, and you are going to be stuck with me for a long time.”

“In that case I better get used to it because I love you too.”

_X_