#and are making it everyone else’s problem
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Not to, you know, point out yet again that you Hamas stans don't give a fuck about Palestinians, but....
The chasm between what Gazan activists say about Hamas and October 7, and what Western leftists and Hamas say, is absolutely fucking horrifying.
All of this below is from just one Gazan activist who's been repeatedly tortured, by Hamas, for fighting for his own human rights.
As expected, Hamas began executing Gazans the moment the ceasefire deal was reached, accusing them of "working with the occupation." Just today, they executed 10 Gazans, and they promised to do more in the coming days.
This isn’t a novel tactic; it’s an age-old strategy employed by Hamas to silence critics and instil fear among citizens who oppose their rule. I would greatly welcome a position from the pro-Palestinian movement advocating for pressure on Hamas to end its ongoing oppression of the people in Gaza.
For those who support Hamas and express admiration for the organization in light of the recent ceasefire announcement, it is vital to recognize that in Gaza, tens of thousands of innocent civilians are experiencing profound suffering, while Hamas seems largely unconcerned with their plight. They chose to prioritize sending their terrorists abroad for treatment, insisting that each fighter be accompanied by three family members.
What about the numerous Gazans who were shot and tortured by Hamas throughout the war? Shouldn't they be given the opportunity to receive medical treatment abroad?
You know what would help the Palestinians in Gaza? Condemning Hamas' atrocities. Instead, the protesters routinely chant their desire to "Globalize the Intifada." Apparently they do not realize that the Intifadas were disastrous for both Palestinians and Israelis, just as October 7 has been devastating for the people of Gaza.
They should be speaking up for the innocent victims of Hamas—both Palestinian and Israeli. Instead, they endorse Hamas's ideology with posters announcing resistance "by any means necessary" and chants of "from the river to the sea," effectively glorifying the Al-Qassam brigades, Hamas' military wing, whose ideology is entirely based on the elimination of more than 6 million Israelis from the land.
I really, really try to be polite and explain things most of the time.
But after watching "pro-Palestinians" spend the entire war actively helping silence Gazans and making things worse for them, through pure Hamas-worshipping violent tankie revenge fantasies...
I'm just going to indulge myself in one do better, shithead.
“elon musk did the nazi salute, remember to check on your jewish friends uwu” you all celebrated when jihadi terrorists live-streamed the torture, kidnapping and murdering of israelis on 10/7/2023 but ok
#FUCK hamas#FUCK every single paternalistic leftist who's shat on everyone in Hamas's name#FUCK every single person who refuses to believe anything that isn't pure Hamas propaganda because it fits their preexisting biases so neatly#fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you#none of you actually give a shit about people's lives you just want to fantasize about a violent uprising#you don't even care what the outcome of the violent uprising is apparently#violent uprising that is also a deliberate war crime which will mean all the regular civilians around us risk everything for us?? GREAT#violent uprising that wipes out our group and makes everyone worry about genocide??? NO PROBLEM THAT'S IDEAL#it's not even good activism. it's fucking ludicrous. you just drool over and identify with violence because it makes you feel powerful#the toxic combination of revenge fantasies and imagining yourself as the Most Oppressed is so bad for you#it's the same thing that makes it so intoxicating for Americans to pretend ours is the worst country on earth#bro we fail to make the top 10 under any rubric#and probably not the top 25 either#like have you met Afghanistan? are you familiar with Iran? no you're not#North Korea anyone? i could just go on and on#waaaaa we have a president who's going to actively make life much shittier for several already very marginalized groups#as a trans person i regret to inform you that it's still going to stop sucking in four years. i know it fucking burns believe me i do#but we could be living in a country where someone MUCH worse than Trump has been dictator for decades and decades#this isn't even “it could always be worse” this is “do you know how fucking lucky we are?#we have a voice and visibility in the u.s. that we would have nowhere else because the country dominates so much media#we are able to do things to raise trans awareness and reach out to trans people without even realizing it#so much of the shit trump has said he will do is going to get tied up in courts for fucking ever#and probably gutted or struck down#because that is what happened to most of it last time#and we know more now#the work people did to fight him on rights for undocumented immigrants gives them momentum and experience for this time#because we have checks and balances and voting that is able to fuck up the momentum of people like him and limit his term#i live in California and our governor's new life mission is to screw with Trump constantly#just constantly#piss him off and screw up every fucking thing he does
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this stream was one hell of a comeback
one thing is for sure and that's that RT returned with..... a bang
#rtgame#rtumblr#no one in the server appreciated my joke so i intend to make it everyone else's problem now
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I have gotten quite a few asks which can be summarized as "my therapist doesn't believe me and keeps blaming me for my problems, but I know I have to stick with therapy if I want to get better-", and I need everyone to realize that therapy isn't inherently good and effective, nor is it always necessary for getting better. Having a bad therapist can actually be more harmful to your recovery than not having one! If your therapist makes you worse or doesn't help you, it's okay to walk away, whether to find a new one or to find healing in something else. You are in fact not morally obligated to see a therapist just because you're mentally ill.
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Actually, I think we should have empathy and provide support for overworked mothers instead of shaming them and using demeaning and misogynistic terms like “crotch goblins” and saying shit like “spreading their shitty genes”. You’re absolutely right that society puts women in impossible and deeply unjust situations and that motherhood is often marketed to women in a way that glorifies and sanitizes it, but then you immediately turn around shame women, and position yourself as inherently morally superior to them. So which is it? Society pressures women into motherhood, or motherhood is a choice that those stupid bitches made and they should take responsibility for it? Also, no one should have children if they don’t want to, but children can’t help the fact that they’re children.
You clearly lack empathy and understanding. If you want to be insane, you can go shame women on your own post. Get off of mine.
no offense but there is almost nothing in the world more shameful to me than letting your child be an ipad baby. I'm not saying parents don't have it hard, but I personally could not live with myself if I purposefully let my child get addicted to the technological equivalent of black tar heroin just because I'm too fucking tired to parent. literacy rates are at a record low right now -- partially because schools removed phonics from their curricula, yes, but also because fewer and fewer parents read to their children or encourage them to pick up a fucking book. you are allowing your child to emotionally and intellectually stunt themselves, and for what? I'm not saying kids shouldn't have any access to television or computers (they should, although particularly for computers I'd encourage one stationary PC in a computer room like we had in the 90's and 2000's), but no, your child should not have unsupervised, unlimited, unadulterated access to everything the web has to offer at the tender age of 6. or give them some age appropriate video games for god's sake. mario or spyro or SOMETHING. something other than tiktok and youtube. call me crazy for thinking that that's shit parenting. not to mention that by only giving them access to ipads and iphones that they don't know how to work actual computers anymore (go on, ask your 12 year old to open and save a file folder on your desktop, I dare you). a generation of shitty parents who have raised emotionally stunted low-attention-span illiterate incurious apathetic children who will very soon become an entire generation of illiterate incurious apathetic voters and consumers. that's another thing, too -- your children are constantly being advertised to and are being groomed to be relentless and uncritical consumers. your children are being preyed upon on multiple levels and you don't fucking care!! easier to call people giving you warnings "prudes" and "boomers" than actually think critically about your child and their future.
look I know parenting is hard. Unfortunately for you, your child didn't ask to be born, and it is nonetheless YOUR responsibility to raise them well and give them every fucking opportunity you can. and I am watching millions and millions of parents who could not give less of a fuck that they are actually materially disadvantaging their own children. im sick to my stomach for real.
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Writing a "Toxic" Character
Toxic Behavior - any kind of behavior that results in unpleasantness for those around you.
This can range from accidentally telling a joke that hurts someone’s feelings to alienating close friends and family through consistently negative and cruel behavior.
In other words, toxic behavior is whatever someone does to bring negativity upon themselves and others.
Everyone can be difficult on occasion, but you want to avoid allowing occasional, accidental toxic behaviors to become a long-term feature of your personality.
It’s one thing to make a selfish decision and meaningfully apologize afterward, but it’s another when it becomes a defining trait.
Even the most toxic people can improve their behavior patterns, so long as they make an earnest effort to understand themselves and become more compassionate.
Even though it might take a lot of self-compassion, patience from friends and family, and a resolute commitment to becoming kinder, it’s well worth it for everyone in the long run.
Prominent Toxic Behavior Traits
Toxicity manifests in numerous ways. If you’re worried you might be consistently exhibiting toxic traits, ask yourself if someone would describe you as having any one of these 5 qualities:
Critical: When people behave in a toxic way, they often blame others for all their problems. Rather than accepting any responsibility for their unhappiness or aggression, they convince themselves they behave this way solely because of the kind of people around them. Ask yourself if you’re quicker to criticize others than to self-reflect.
Manipulative: Controlling behavior, gaslighting, and other forms of manipulation are some of the key signs of a toxic person. Perhaps you try to passive-aggressively get coworkers to do your job for you or try to make family members feel guilty so they’ll do you favors. If you manipulate other people, knowingly or unknowingly, you’re exhibiting a key toxic trait.
Narcissistic: Certain toxic people only look out for themselves. As narcissists, they view their own lives as above anyone else’s. While everyone can veer into self-interest from time to time, this sort of constant self-involvement is a sure sign of toxicity. Think about the last time you put someone else’s needs above your own—if you have a hard time remembering when that was, it might be time for some further self-evaluation and improvement.
Negativity: Toxic people are often negative people. They feel the need to nitpick and criticize the minutiae of their lives, berating friend and foe alike for making things more difficult than they need to be. No one can feel happy all the time, and negativity can balance out positivity on occasion—but if you constantly dwell on things that make you sad or angry, you could be embodying toxic behavior.
Unapologetic: When toxic people lash out at their loved ones, they’re unlikely to ever apologize or see what they’ve done as wrong. This might be because their self-worth is bound up in thinking they must be right at all times and at all costs. Ask yourself whether you ever feel comfortable being wrong. If the answer is no, this might be a toxic trait worth improving.
Tips for How to Not Be Toxic
Devoting yourself to positivity rather than toxicity can prove a boon for both you and all your loved ones. Learn how to stop being toxic with these 7 steps:
Apologize when necessary. Everyone exhibits bad behavior from time to time. Apologize when you act out of line so you can get back to spending time creating positive memories with friends and family.
Assess yourself regularly. Toxic traits often emanate from low self-esteem and unaddressed trauma. Work on bettering your mental health and wellness. Journal out your thoughts to improve your sense of self-awareness.
Be open to feedback. Free and open communication is one key hallmark of healthy relationships. Listen more than you speak. Ask people what you can do so you both can have a good relationship with each other.
Deal with past trauma. There’s an old saying: “Hurt people hurt people.” In other words, people who’ve gone through hard times and are in a painful situation are likely to create hard times and painful situations for others. Seek out help to deal with these very real wounds. No one deserves to suffer, and the sooner you heal, the sooner you can help others heal, too.
Practice mindfulness. Very few people actively set out to be a toxic person, they just fall into toxic habits. Practicing mindfulness meditation gives you the tool kit to break up negative thought patterns and assess why you might behave in a toxic way.
Respect boundaries. Individual toxicity often leads to toxic relationships with others characterized by codependency. Respect people when they set boundaries with you, then pay attention to whether you’re crossing them.
Seek opportunities for compassion. Rather than looking for opportunities to criticize, seek out the ability to be compassionate. Give yourself grace as a form of self-care—remind yourself you’re not a bad person, just someone trying to get through the difficulties of life like anyone else. Forgive others who frustrate or wrong you. Focus on spreading a sense of well-being and you’ll be well on your way to ensuring each day is a positive rather than toxic one.
Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs
#toxic#writing notes#writeblr#character development#writers on tumblr#writing reference#dark academia#spilled ink#writing prompt#creative writing#writing inspiration#literature#writing ideas#writing resources
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the grudge * fem!driver
it takes the whole village to make them realise that racing should not be coming between the friendship they spent years building
pairings: alex albon x fem!driver, george russell x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, lewis hamilton x fem!driver, nico rosberg x fem!driver
warnings: -
notes: hi there.
(series masterlist) | (📂 the sophomore year)
(prev)
the past couple of days have been empty. eerily lonely at times when she wakes up just to drag her feet downstairs of her parent’s home to get a meal by herself and make her way back up after. prior to their predicament, she had planned so many activities to do with logan over their week off.
she turns over when she wakes up, just like every other morning and picks up her phone. hoping, wishing, desperately waiting for a specific text message to dawn her. there are several other notifications but they just don’t seem to matter.
when will logan text, when will he apologise— more importantly, when can they be best friends again?
she misses him.
she’s wondered over the past few days since they fell out mid-race, how other people get through something like this. it’s never been a problem, not for them, because they made a promise.
sure, they were young, but it was easy to think that they would never let their careers get the better of them.
she remembers speaking in hushed whispers, as if it was a crime, promising one another that they would always be best friends no matter what. they would never let what happened to others happen to them.
she hasn’t spoken to oscar much either. she tries to lie to herself and say that he’s probably busy spending time with lily and his family, but a smaller part of her assumes that he’s pulling away because of logan. oscar tries to convince her and say that isn’t the case, but she’s slowly starting to believe her lie.
she lays awake for some time wondering if logan missed her the same, or if reaching out had ever crossed his mind. she can’t be the only one feeling this way, right?
her finger hovers over his caller id, going back and forth the decision of dropping him a call. but she is still insistent that she is not wrong. he clearly clipped her car, so why should she? everyone could see that but him.
it hurts, but it hurts more than when she would get into days-long arguments with oscar.
she hasn’t had her own share of a heartbreak, but somehow hurts in the way that some of her friends would describe it to her. it’s more than the pain you feel when you’re falling out with a best friend.
instead, she locks her phone and gets out of bed to start whatever is left of her day.
is this really how it’s going to be? losing his best friend over one crash out of the many others they’ve had since they met?
he stares at the ceiling with stubby resting his paws on his stomach, pondering if he truly is doing the right thing by holding out.
but every time he thinks of finally apologising, he remembers every other time that he had to put aside his pride just to keep her around. not that it truly ever mattered — their friendship always comes above all else — he just finds it incredibly unfair.
how about this once, she is the one who puts her pride aside to keep their friendship? does it really have to always be him?
then he starts to wonder if he is the only one who thinks of their friendship this way. maybe he’s the only one holding onto something that’s dwindled over the years; she has new friends anyway.
logan misses her. the apartment simply isn’t the same without him waking up to his door opened slightly after she borrowed one of his hoodies to wear for a walk, or the shrill baby voice she likes to use when talking to their pets, or the whining and pouting she gives him when she doesn’t want to go out by herself but refuses to ask him if he wants to come with her.
sometimes he misses her more than a best friend should. though, that’s not really the point.
it makes sense now to him how friends fall apart when they’re in the same sport. but even with just one example, there’s also another pair of best friends who seem closer than they were before.
now he is conflicted. none of it makes sense at all.
but only time can tell if he is doing the right thing. or, if she would even realise that their friendship should be greater than whatever the hell the situation is right now.
“you’re telling me that you and rocky have not spoken for an entire week?”
logan shrugs, “yeah, i guess.”
alex’s gaze follows logan as he walks across the room to take a seat, an eyebrow raising in confusion at his nonchalance. “and you don’t plan to?”
“not unless she reaches out first.”
logan lifts his gaze from his hands and meets alex’s eyes. alex doesn’t even know how to go about the situation anymore – it seems like he’s said everything he could say to logan to try and amend their friendship. yet, there’s still nothing he says that could convince him otherwise.
it would be a shame to see a friendship fall apart over a crash during a race.
not everyone can have what they have and maintain it for as long as they have. of course, he knows, he’s best friends with george.
a week into their 2-week break and she is holding out longer than he’s expected. he’s very apologetic for the fact that her car had spun and hit the wall, but it’s just unfair that he was expected to be the one apologising for the crash itself.
the crash was caused by 2 people, not just him. he’s sure there’s something there that she could have done better to avoid the accident.
“i’m heading out to grab lunch with george after this,” alex grins, “would you like to come with us?”
“sure.”
she swings her hand up to stop the man from opening his mouth to speak to her, the door in her other hand. “don’t tell me you’re here for what i think you’re here for.”
“i’m not?” george grins with hesitation, dropping the pint of ice cream he’d gotten to soften her up for the conversation he wants to have. “come on, you need to speak to logan.”
she sighs and rests her hands on her hips. “i know sebastian sent you.”
he presses his lips together. “no, he didn’t.”
“it’s because i’m ignoring his text messages,” she scowls. yet she still takes a step back and opens the door wider and gestures for him to come inside. “i’m not stupid.”
george walks in, handing her the pint of chocolate ice cream he’d picked up. “it’s not your favourite brand, but it’s still chocolate ice cream,” he mutters. he turns as she closes the front door and huffs. “you need to speak to logan before all of this gets out of hand too fast and you regret it.”
“does he regret sending me into the wall?” she raises an eyebrow. when george continues to stare at her, blinking blankly, she nods and turns on her heel to walk into the kitchen. “you know this wasn’t my fault — you saw the footage, george! that’s so unfair!”
he sighs. he’s never been in this situation with alex, but he can only imagine how his world would around if they were. sure, it’s hard to get past something like this, especially at the stage of their career, but he just isn’t sure how to help either.
yes, logan had been the one to close in on her on the track, but why couldn’t they just recognise they were both wrong one way or another?
“okay, fine. whatever,” george says exasperatedly. “actually, i’m here to ask if you wanted to get lunch with alex and i later.”
she raises an eyebrow with a small smile. “sure!”
“sorry,” george laughs airily, putting his phone face down on the table. he moves into the booth alongside the younger girl. “alex is running a little late.”
“that’s alright,” she mutters, reaching out for the menu. she opens the menu before it dawns on her.
she lowers her menu and turns stiffly to george who is reaching for his menu and takes his seat. “what?”
“why are you sitting next to me?” she raises an eyebrow and throws her head back slightly.
george puts a hand to his chest. “do you hate me?”
she shakes her head. “no! it’s not like that,” she scowls, “you always sit next to alex when we get lunch.”
he tilts his head and narrows his eyes as he pretends to think. “do i?” he scrunches his nose. “i don’t always sit next to him.”
but he knows that she poses an incredible point. he, however, hadn’t expected her to be so observant, as opposed to her typical carefree and non-analytical nature. perhaps this entire fallout has changed her slightly, especially without logan always next to her.
she hums without another word, confusion still written on her face, before she looks at her menu again.
she’s been to this restaurant numerous times since moving to london. it’s actually her favourite. a classic between her and logan, always making it out of their way to get food here when they’re back in town.
she doesn’t actually need the menu — she orders the same damn thing every time, swearing to herself that she will try something new her next visit. which she is something she abides by most times, always ordering a new side dish or by forcing logan to get something she wants but is too scared to try.
“i thought you would have memorised that menu front and back considering how much you come here,” george jokes, his eyes darting from his menu to the entrance of the restaurant.
he shakes his leg in anticipation, aimlessly flipping through the pages yet he still has not retained one dish in his head. it’s never going to work.
in the back of his head, he hears alex’s voice telling him again and again that it would.
“funny. that’s the same thing logan says whenever we eat here.”
truthfully, george hadn’t even brought logan up in the time they’ve been together. he’s pleasantly surprised that she was the first to address him again after their initial conversation at her parents’ front door.
“does he?” george grins slightly.
“yeah,” she lifts her head, lips pursed together as she stares into the distance, “i always make him order something new that i could try because i’m too scared it won’t be to my liking.”
he’s surprised. he didn’t think logan could come up in such a peaceful topic at this time of day. he thought that she would keep it hostile even when speaking of him.
“that’s very thoughtful."
she grins. “yes, i guess he is a very thoughtful guy.”
george sits up and adjusts the sleeves of his sweatshirt. he clears his throat. “speaking of logan-”
“no.”
“what?” he cried incredulously with a hand in the air. “you brought him up first!”
“no.”
“fine.”
oh, they’re not going to eat at her favourite restaurant, are they? logan furrows his eyebrows as he’s led forward by alex and he increasingly gets more nervous as they get closer.
spending this much time away from her has made her miss her so much. he’s almost afraid that it might really be the end of their friendship at all.
he’s never eaten here without her. he acts annoyed all the time when she forces him to try a new dish every visit while she has the luxury of sticking to her comfort food, but truthfully, he finds himself searching for her voice in the silence.
can he really have a meal without her at her favourite restaurant? surely not. yet he follows alex inside without another word. he nervously looks around, finding remnants of all the meals he’s had with her here.
he sees george in the far corner of the restaurant, lifting his arm to wave at logan with a small grin. alex abruptly stops walking that makes logan halt before he can run into his back.
the expression on alex’s face is something logan has only seen a couple of times on the older guy. the thai sucks in a deep breath and holds his hands up in the air, “don’t be mad.”
logan raises an eyebrow. “why would i be mad?” he tilts his head as he tries to come up with a reason that assumption would come up. “it’s just a restaurant, i can eat here without rocky.”
“yeah,” alex nods with his lips pressed together. “that’s the thing.”
just then, a shrill and disgusted ‘what’ throws the relaxing aura of the restaurant off.
he knows that voice anywhere. he swears he is haunted by that scream in his sleep when he’s done something he shouldn’t have and is trying to keep a secret.
a head pops out of the plants in the divider. she turns her head and finds logan, standing in the middle of the restaurant just as shell-shocked.
so to hell with their argument, right? he should just apologise and get it done and over with then he can get his best friend back. and all will be right in the world.
logan swears that her gaze softened when she saw him standing there. he has to reason out with himself not to run over and pull her into the tightest hug he’s ever trapped her in. a lot has happened in the past week, and every time he thinks of reaching out, he hesitates.
in hindsight, why does he hesitate? this is literally his best friend in the whole world.
and she swears she will jump over this damned divider to get to logan. should she punch him or jump into his arms for a hug? this might be the longest she hasn’t seen the boy and the feeling of familiarity washes over her in relief.
“logan,” she says his name in a soft and airy sigh. the corners of her lips curl into a small smile as her shoulders drop from their tense position. “hi.”
“hi.”
his heart starts beating faster when she pushes past george to get out of the booth. alex jogs to where george stands, cozying up next to his best friend as they watch the scene unfold. they’ve never tried to parent-trap anyone into reconciliation before. this is a first and if they succeed, they would never shut up about it.
she walks over to him, smile still intact with her back straight. she stops right in front of him and her hands clasped in front of her.
her smile grows and she takes another breath. she can’t seem to find the right words to say to him now that he’s finally in front of her. “hi.”
logan grins, “it’s nice to finally see you again. i missed you.”
“i missed you too.” she presses her lips together and glances down at her feet momentarily. she raises her gaze again.
when george had finally told her logan was joining them for lunch, a million things ran through her mind. half of her thoughts wanted to start fighting all over again but the latter just wanted to sit down in silence and make up for all of the time they’d lost.
“did we really get ambushed by alex and george?” she snorts softly, looking over her shoulder where they stand with one another, staring intensely at them.
logan grins with a small nod. “i’m surprised they pulled it off, really.”
silence looms over them once again — the implications of the crash threatens another fight. logan’s heart starts beating faster as he remembers again why exactly he’s very persistent on getting an apology. just an apology, that’s all he’s asking for.
there is simply so much more to it than just the younger girl putting her pride aside over the crash. sure, whatever, he can come out and admit that it was ultimately because of a mistake from him on the track. what he can’t accept is the girl's unwillingness to initiate reconciliation.
does she truly care so little for him to be a part of his life?
“let’s go and get lunch,” she says, beckoning him forward to where alex and george are. she takes a couple of steps away. “i was really sad at the thought of eating here without you.”
“is that all you have to say?” logan raises an eyebrow. he stays planted where he stands. she whirls around in confusion. “we haven’t talked the longest in our lives and you’re just going to invite me to the table and act like we didn’t just have a fight?”
she presses his lips together and clenches her jaw. “if anything, you’re the one ignoring it — you caused the crash, remember?”
logan scoffs. how shallow. “oh, get over the crash already! you seriously don’t even see why this entire thing is an issue? are you seriously so stupid?”
“we were so close,” george mutters in a soft sigh. “why are they stupid?”
“i wish i knew.” alex purses his lips together before he steps away from the table. he clasps his hands together and steps in between the two, just as she took a step forward to answer logan. he holds his arms out to her to keep her distance from logan. “okay, i see it’s still too soon.”
“it wouldn’t be too soon if she could just realise how insensitive she’s being!” logan scoffs softly, pointing an accusatory finger at the girl. he’s fully aware of the eyes watching them in the restaurant. “i know racing is everything to you, but i swear if you keep acting like this, you’re going to lose every single person you love.”
she scoffs, taking a step back. her eyes start to glisten, making logan start to feel bad. “of course, it’s everything to me, i dedicated my entire life to get where i am.”
“yeah, so much so that you’re willing to burn bridges to stay where you are.” logan turns on his heel. “i will have lunch at home instead, alex. thanks for inviting me out.”
“if you missed her and she missed you, what’s the problem?” oscar turns the seat around to face logan. “good on alex and george for trying to get you guys back together while i was gone. i really thought all this would blow over by now.”
logan shrugs. he turns his phone over and over on his stomach, swaying back and forth. “you don’t understand. she’s changed.”
“you keep saying that, mate,” oscar sighs tiredly. he throws himself back into his seat. “i still don’t know what you mean.”
logan feels a little silly. saying it out loud suddenly feels so superficial and overtly sensitive. “it’s stupid.”
“well, if you’re letting this fight drag out this long, there has to be a reason behind it.” oscar smiles slightly and nods at him, truly curious as to why all of this has blown so out of proportion. “what is it?”
“when we crashed, we both got out of the car,” logan starts slowly, nitpicking his choice of words for the fear of sounding a little too unreasonable, “she never asked me if i was okay. it was a pretty nasty crash for both of us.”
that’s it, really. that’s his only problem with it — she had never asked, not once, if he was okay. she’d just started getting angry, which was understandable, but it never really hit him why he was feeling so sad until he started getting examined for his injuries a while later. he’s personally curious if she was feeling better, but she still hadn’t asked him yet.
which kind of sucks because he’s starting to feel like he cares more for her than she does for him.
“oh, i see.” oscar sits up. “okay, i totally get it. i’ll speak with her.”
logan shakes his head, “you don’t have to. if she doesn’t realise it on her own, what does it really say about her, you know?”
“i know, but i’ll try talking to her first.”
so oscar doesn’t exactly talk to her himself. truth is he can’t bring himself to be the one to speak with her about logan; he just knows he can’t pick a side. whatever she says, he’ll be trying to defend both sides and they’ll never get anywhere with it.
so, he asked if sebastian would speak with her. even then, sebastian hadn’t dared to speak with her about this. he would be able to have conversations with her about anything except this.
he just knows what she would throw back in his face so he already knew immediately that he shouldn’t be the one to.
so he went to the next best pairing who could potentially fix it.
the young girl gapes up at the duo towering over her as she sinks into the couch. she’s suddenly felt so small, a contrast to her initial bratty attitude from being interrupted from her lunch.
“what are you guys doing here?” she blinks. “why are you even together here?”
“what do you mean?” nico tilts his head. “don’t you like me? i thought you liked me? you said you like my presence.”
she furrows her eyebrows. none of this makes sense unless there’s something she’s failed to connect. “i do, but like… why are you here in front of me?”
“we just wanna talk,” lewis grins, folding his arms over his chest. “we need to talk to you.”
her confusion slowly contorts into something of suspicion. a scowl carves her lips as her eyes narrow into a glare. “seb sent you, didn’t he? this is about logan?”
“i told you she’s smarter than to fall for the excuse that we’re here just to spend time with her,” nico points out, turning to lewis. “she’s a degree holder, of course, she will see right through us.”
“and i said it doesn’t matter if she does. we just need to get the message across,” lewis rambles at nico before he turns to the girl. “i’ll keep it simple.”
she looks up, uninterested, sinking back into the couch with her arms folded over her chest. “okay. try and change my mind.”
“is logan your best friend or not?”
she presses her lips together. “yes, he is. or at least he used to be.”
“do you love him or not?”
she doesn’t answer. what does he mean by that? is there an agenda to this that she hadn’t anticipated for? is she really that obvious?
“what does that mean?” nico whispers. “you hate him or what?”
lewis rolls his eyes. “as a best friend. i don’t care if you’re in love with him, rocky. that’s not what we’re here for.”
she looks away momentarily. “yes, i love him as a best friend. what the hell does that have to do with anything? i’m sure he loves me too yet he doesn’t want to apologise.”
“is this racing thing seriously so much more important than keeping your best friend in your life, though?” nico smiles. hopefully, that gets through to her.
she scowls, “i don’t know — you tell me.”
“rocky.”
“it’s a genuine question, lewis.”
“this isn’t about us.”
“it can be if you want.”
“stop diverting!” nico yelps. “listen, okay, if you don’t fix this, you’ll need to live with yourself losing your best friend over one crash! not just for the time being, rocky, forever! for the rest of your life! can you really live with that?”
“maybe.”
“take me seriously!” nico stomps a foot on the ground. “he’s not going to leave the grid. can you really live coming into the paddocks on weekends all by yourself? no logan to carry your bags, no logan to giggle with when you want to, no logan to have meals with, no logan to come home to in your shared apartment with your pets. really?”
she sucks in a deep and shaky breath. she can’t. she really can’t see living the rest of her life out without logan around to annoy and cry to.
the past couple of days holding out from speaking to logan has been so difficult but can’t really get herself to admit to it. she can’t see herself winning any more races in the season and not leaving to celebrate with him, or flying back after race weekends to relax in their apartment with a bottle of wine.
lewis huffs. “you maybe need to be the one to swallow your pride if you don’t want to lose this friendship.”
“and i heard from the grapevine that you still haven’t ask logan if he’s okay.” nico looks away and innocently tries looking around the room to avoid her gaze. “his crash was pretty bad, you know. he had a concussion too.”
“did he?” she asks, her tone a little more gentle and her voice softer. “is he okay now?”
lewis shrugs. “go and ask him yourself.”
she stands up and brushes her pants. “you’re right. get out of my way, i’m going to apologise to my best friend.”
she pushes past both of the older men and grabs her car keys from the table by the door. she halts right before she makes it out of the room and turns. “thank you. i really appreciate this. i can’t imagine what it took you guys to get together just to put some sense into my head.”
she steps out. “maybe when logan and i make up, i could take some sense into you!”
logan expected it to come in the form of a short phone call, maybe a long text message. not for her to show back up at their apartment with takeout in her hands and a small grin.
“what?”
“can i come in?” she grins hopefully, peeking into the apartment. “i brought us takeout from our favourite place.”
logan steps aside and opens the door wider. “why are you asking me for permission? this is your apartment.”
“i know,” she sighs as she steps in to take off her shoes.
logan closes the door behind her and he puts his hands into his pockets. it’s still very nice to see her and he’s genuinely missed her more than ever.
distance makes the heart grow fonder or something like that.
he waits for her to start up a conversation. when they stand in silence, him staring at her back as she slowly takes off her jacket, he attempts to walk past her. he was watching a movie with stubby after all.
“how are you feeling?” she suddenly asks, stopping logan right behind her in the very cramp entryway into their apartment. she stands up straighter and turns around, attempting to make a step back when she realises their proximity. “i heard you got a concussion too.”
he can’t help but smile slightly. so that’s what she’s here for.
finally.
“i’m feeling alright. just whiplash and muscle pain, nothing new,” he admits softly. “what about you?”
she grins. “i’m feeling okay,” she mutters. “i’m sorry i didn’t ask if you were okay. you must have felt like i didn’t care about you at all.”
“you didn’t get your podium because of me. i’m sorry too,” logan puts a hand on her shoulder and shakes her slightly, “it was in the heat of the moment. sucks that it took you this long to realise though.”
“are we best friends again? i got us food.” she raises the bag of takeout with a giggle and a feeling of warmth in her chest. “we didn’t get to eat the other day, after all.”
“of course, you’re my best friend, you idiot.” logan throws an arm over her shoulders as they walk into the apartment. he ruffles her hair from the top of her head and smacks it gently. “let’s not fight about something like that ever again.”
“well, don’t crash into me again when i’m fighting for a podium.”
“seriously?”
“okay, i’m sorry. i’ll make that joke again in 3 weeks maybe.”
taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @ironmaiden1313 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @localwhoore @c-losur3 @notawc @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @a-disturbing-self-reflection @mclarengf @xoscar03 @nomie-11 @green-thots @tinyhrry @iwilleatyourgod @inejismywife @love4lando @louvrepool
#logan sargeant x reader#alex albon x reader#george russell x reader#nico rosberg x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#fem!driver#female driver#f1 fem!driver#f1 female driver#vettel reincarnate#disneyprincemuke#disneyprincemuke imagine#disneyprincemuke imagines#disneyprincemuke f1#disneyprincemuke vr#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#f1 grid x reader
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My sleep schedule is FINE it is even REASONABLY CONSISTENT, it's just 12 hours off from most the population
(Something I learned in therapy: if it's weird but it works for you - and doesn't hurt anyone INCLUDING YOU - then it's fine. "Finding a way to deal" is an intrinsic part of being human, and the same fix doesn't work for everyone.)
Which is a longwinded way of saying...
"The problem isn't that you don't have the willpower or organization to fix your sleep schedule (and so will have a hard time being able to fix anything ELSE), it's that you can't fix other people if they aren't willing to put in some effort of their own. Sometimes they get overwhelmed and just need a hand dealing with one aspect of the problem...but a lot times, they don't see their behavior as a problem. And trying to fix that is a LOT harder."
...but that doesn't make a funny meme.
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I'm back in my Nico obsessive phase and now I'm making it everyone else's problem
#art#artists on tumblr#my art#fanart#nico di angelo#nico di angelo fanart#nico pjo#percy jackson#will solace#heroes of olympus#pjo fanart#solangelo#sketching#sketchbook#riordanverse#rick riordan
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One Night or Forever?
Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader
Summary: When one thing leads to another, you and Daryl spend a passionate night together at the CDC. Unfortunately, neither of you is interpreting the signals right afterwards...
Warnings: 18+! MDNI! smut (not entirely graphic, but it's definitely there - like, you know exactly what's going on), uhhh sub and dom Daryl? unprotected rough-ish sex? Daryl gets a bj (yes, you read that right), he's a bit mean, too - but also a cutie patootie, uhh slight angst? bit of drama, alcohol - drunk-ish Daryl and tipsy reader, fluff, swear words, bickering
Set in Season 1!
Word Count: 4,5k
a/n: You want it, you got it, friends. I don't know what this is, though - or which demons possessed me as I wrote it. I really don't. I also don't know how I should feel about it. Embarrassed? Proud? Send help, lol.
Anyways, I hope you like this! Please go easy on me. Smut isn't really my forte...
EoH Masterlist °☆• LITRM Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist
"Booyah!"
Daryl's toast had been the starting shot for an evening full of conversation, fun, laughter - and alcohol. Some would say reams of alcohol. Wine, booze, beer - you and the group stopped at nothing. That was probably the reason why everyone staggered somewhere on a scale between tipsy and shit faced drunk at the end of the evening.
You were currently on your way to your personal room - something you'd describe as a luxury. Sure, back at the quarry you had your own tent, but there was a huge difference between that and a whole goddamn room. With a own freaking shower! It was crazy. Who would've thought that something so plain and simple would become such a valued, precious thing? Most likely nobody, because it was something taken for granted.
Well... Not anymore. Not since the world went to shit.
After passing a very drunk Glenn on the way, you more or less stumbled into your room. Tipsy... You were definitely tipsy. Without a single care in the world, you started to shed your clothes the moment the door shut close behind you. All you wanted to do was sleep. You had too much alcohol coursing through your veins to search for something you could use as a pyjama. You hadn't a problem with sleeping naked. Not tonight.
Unfortunately had your plan a catch... One that you weren't aware of yet.
This wasn't your room.
You were just about to free your body of the last piece of fabric you were wearing - a pair of admittedly beautiful dark blue lace panties, when a sudden voice managed to almost send you into cardiac arrest.
"Wha' the fuck 'r ya doin' in my room?!"
You startled so bad, that you almost lost balance and fell flat on your ass. Your balance was a bit off-track anyways, due to the wine...
With wide eyes you turned around to face the intruder.
"Daryl?"
You blinked. "What are you doing here?" He scoffed; his cheeks puffed out and reddened. He had been drinking way more than you did, and it showed. The archer's hands were fumbling clumsily with the fly of his jeans. "Jus' been taken a damn piss, 'n 'm comin' back to find ya standin' in my room." You crossed your arms over your bare - an information which hadn't reached Daryl's brain yet - chest. "This is clearly my room, Dixon." He scoffed again. "'S not!" "Yes, it is!" "'S not!" The man took a few wobbly steps closer. "Go bullshit someone else, I-" He stopped abruptly in the middle of his sentence; eyes widening to the size of plates. Now the information had been received and processed.
"Yer almost naked," he stated; bluntly staring.
Oh, you suddenly realised and remembered as well. He was right.
In any other situation, you'd have frantically tried to cover yourself up and perhaps even threw an insult at the man standing across from you, but the alcohol lowered your boundary of shame and loosened you up; making you see things more relaxed.
You huffed out a breath. "Yeah, no shit, Sherlock." Daryl still blinked and tried very hard to not let his eyes drop, but that was an almost impossible task for the alcoholized man. "Why?" You shrugged your shoulders. "'Cause I wanted to go to sleep." The archer swallowed hard. "In my room? Naked? Ya lost yer damn mind, woman?" "It's my room," your tipsy self was still profoundly convinced, while you made your way over to the bed on slightly wobbly legs. Daryl just watched you; flabbergasted, speechless, shocked - and incredibly turned on. After all, he had a damn pretty woman in his room - no, bed. Half naked!
"You could join me, Dixon." He scoffed again and tried to walk in a straight line over to the armchair; accepting his fate. "In yer damn dreams. 'S ain't gonna help me - or my hard-on." You giggled at his words like a schoolgirl and rolled around in the sheets. "That the reason why you can't get that zipper up? You like me, Daryl? Like what you see?" You pestered him with questions; smirking, and watched his cheeks redden even more - if that was physically possible and your eyes didn't betray you. "Shuddup," Daryl just growled in response. You giggled again, before a long beat of silence passed between the both of you.
The alcohol didn't just lower your boundary of shame... It also caused you to become bolder. "I could help you with that, you know..." You tried to sound as flirty and seductive as possible and turned in the sheets once more, but now to face the man sitting across from the bed. You perched yourself onto your stomach and crossed your ankles in the air; swaying your legs.
Gods, you felt like a teenager again. Damn the alcohol and your crush on the archer. It was a dangerous combination, since you hadn't planned to actually act on said crush. Well, and here you were now in his - nu.uh, your - bed, almost naked and trying to seduce him.
Some might say this escalated quickly...
"Help me with wha'?" The archer finally responded after a long moment; dumbfounded. His usually very smart and witty brain slowed down by the alcohol. You thought for a hot minute that he had already fallen asleep on you. You rolled your eyes and groaned - acting like Daryl just said the stupidest thing in the world. "Your boner," you deadpanned - as if it was the most normal thing to say.
The archer swallowed hard; feeling his chest (and pants) tightening.
"Wha'?" He crooked out. The normally so talkative, glibly redneck seemingly rendered speechless by your boldness.
Once again, you rolled your eyes. "Do you reaaaaally want me to spell it out for you, D?" Daryl clearly needed a moment to recover, but once he did, he scoffed.
"Pf, yer bluffin'."
"I'm not."
"Yeah, ya 'r."
"No, I'm not."
"Yes, ya 'r. Can tell. Yer way to innocent fer shit like tha', sunshine."
"Are you challenging me, Dixon?"
"Nah, jus' statin' facts."
Now you were the one who scoffed. He really asked for it, didn't he? You smirked and hid your face in the blanket beneath you. Oh, you were so going to prove him wrong.
You rolled your barely covered body around a third time, but this time to get up from the bed - which was a much more difficult task than expected, but you made it in the end - even though not gracefully and certainly not seductively. "Facts, huh?" You asked the crossbow-wielding archer then with a raised eyebrow and your hands on your hips. He crossed his arms over his plaid beige-brown shirt clad chest; bare forearms and biceps bulging with the movement. "Yes, facts." Although he stared into your eyes with his blue coloured irises, he still had a hard time for them to actually stay on your face.
"Well, you can go screw your opinions - or me. Your choice, pretty boy," you stated and shrugged your shoulders as you bridged the short distance between the bed and the armchair. Before the younger Dixon could even do as much as open his mouth for a snarky respond, you had dropped to your knees in front of him - between his manspread legs.
Daryl's eyes widened and his jaw slacked. "Wha' 'r ya doin'?!" He literally screeched and gripped the armrests of the armchair. "Proofing you wrong, pretty boy." You smiled up at him like a Cheshire cat; hands and fingers clumsily trying to open his jeans. "F-Fuckin' hell, wha'?! Yer insane, woman!" The archer cursed above you, but also didn't make any moves to stop you. So, you took that as a sign to continue. And continuing you did...
It took you a hot minute to get your eye-hand coordination straight and overcome the obstacles which were his jeans and boxers, but once you did, there was no holding back. "Ya really gonna do th- F-Fuck..."
You did.
"Told you, Dixon," you stated with a mischievous glimmer in your eyes; hands firmly cupping him. Daryl answered nothing. The archer had a hard time to control his breathing and rapidly beating heart. He was still gripping the armrests like a vice - his knuckles already turning white. He really couldn't believe this was happening right now. Was he asleep and dreaming? Was he hallucinating? Did the wine manage to fog up his brain so much that his eyes were deceiving him? But when he felt your lips wrap around him, he instantly threw all those thoughts overboard again. This was real. It had to be real. After all, he was feeling it, right?
"F-Fuckin' hell," he cursed again; feeling waves of pleasure crash over him. One of his hands loosened its grip on the armrest and went in your hair instead - tying your loose hair into a makeshift ponytail. You were already too far gone to care; the taste of him addictive.
Working your magic, you tried to grant the man above you as much pleasure as possible - and it seemed to work. Within a few minutes, Daryl was a whimpering mess - a side you'd never thought you were ever going to see of him. Not in your wildest dreams.
"Ain't... Ain't g-gonna last," the archer panted breathlessly; the hand in your hair twitching. You didn't want him to. You wanted him to fall apart. A gentle squeeze of your hand was all it took. "Y-Y/N, damnit, 'm gon'- Gonna cu-" His sentence got interrupted by a low moan that paved its way to the forefront of his lips. The hand in your hair twitched again as he attempted to pull you off him. You didn't let him, though, and easily dodged his lousy attempt. Instead, you helped him ride the wave. His thighs twitched; muscles tensing as his high crashed into him. Daryl felt like he had been hit by an eighteen-wheeler - but in the best way possible. It had been so long...
The gentle grip he had of your hair slackened; hand falling limply to his side. You lifted your head to look at him to witness his blissed-out state. Daryl's eyes were closed, and his breathing laboured. You smiled; hands gently caressing his clothed thighs. "You believe me now, D?" He gave you a mere nod. Clearly he needed another few moments to get his head straight again. Your smile never ceased as you kept up your fingers movements. Your knees protested by now, but you didn't care.
Another few moments passed, before the archer peeled his eyes open again. Seeing you still on your knees for him managed to send another shockwave of arousal throughout his entire body.
Wide-blown eyes stared at you intensely; the gears turning in his fogged up head.
"T-Thanks, I guess," he whispered then. His voice was still hoarse. You smiled up at him. "You're welcome, pretty boy. Said I'm gonna help you." Daryl nodded almost shyly and clumsily stuffed himself back inside his boxers. You eyed him thoroughly and started to giggle. "Didn't think you'd loose it so fast. Wouldn't have pecked you to be a... premature guy." Not that it mattered to you, but you couldn't help yourself but to tease him a bit. It was meant to be a playful comment, but you seemed to hit a sore spot...
You could practically see how his eyes darkened, before he narrowed them. "Whatcha say, huh?" He asked in a gruff voice and stood up; towering over you. You blinked - were a bit taken aback by the sudden shift in his demeanour. "I-I, uh... Said I didn't think you'd be one t-to, uh, come too early..." The archer growled under his breath. "Ya better watch yer mouth, sunshine," he said in a threatening tone and grabbed your arms to pull you up on your feet. Daryl quickly noticed, though, that his legs were even more wobbly now that they've already been before; forcing him to take cautious steps. "What are we doing, pretty boy? You gonna make me pay for saying that?" You gave another sassy remark; provoking him and tickling his nerve ends even further. A grunt passed his chapped lips as he dragged you with him. Once close to the bed, he wrapped his arms firmly around your bare midsection and literally threw you onto the bed - wobbly legs be damned. You giggled at his eagerness and slid upwards to rest your head on one of the pillows; giving the man a confident look. "C'mon then, pretty boy, show me what you got. I know you want to." He scoffed and crawled on the bed. "Pretty boy my ass." You just giggled again. You felt intoxicated by the wine you had consumed and definitely aroused - which got only worse when you felt calloused, deft hands gripping your delicate skin. Daryl parted your legs and settled on his knees between them. His eyes were directed on your face. He looked like a predator - ready to attack his prey. It was incredibly hot.
"'M gonna shut tha' sassy mouth 'a yers, just ya wait," he growled in a deep voice, and wrapped his arms and hands around your thighs like a snake - holding them firmly and simultaneously keeping you splayed open for him, before he literally yanked you down; bringing your hips closer to his.
Your breath hitched in your throat at his sudden movement and the upcoming anticipation.
His fingertips danced over the skin on your hips then - and suddenly got your dark blue lace panties ripped into shreds.
"Daryl!" You shrieked, then gasped. "Those were my favourites, I-" "'S jus' a damn piece 'a fabric. Dun be such a crybaby," he interrupted you; instantly putting you in your place. Your mouth clapped shut. This was yet another new side of him. Sure, you knew he was hotheaded, but he literally just went from kinda submissive to dominant within the blink of an eye. Was it the alcohol? Or truly his temper?
The clinking of his belt ripped you out of your thoughts. Some shuffling and the rustling of fabric was the only premonition you got, before you felt him against your hot and pulsating center. Your hips instantly bucked; trying to get closer.
More friction.
More pleasure.
More of Daryl.
The archer hovering above you scoffed. "Look how needy ya are. Dun even hafta prepare ya." You could see the corners of his mouth twitching into a small smirk. "Tis all jus' from gettin' me off, huh?" You nodded and bit your lip. Daryl on the contrary shook his head, "Yer tha' desperate? Pf... Pathetic." and lined himself up, before hitting home.
Stars exploded in front of your eyes as his hips met yours. The most sinful moan the archer had ever heard in his life slipped past your lips; only spurring him on more. He picked up a firm, steady pace - leaving you a mess beneath him barely within a few minutes. Just what you did to him.
Revenge was sweet, wasn't it?
His precise, powerful thrusts carried you from one high to the next - and Daryl enjoyed it. He loved to see you fall apart beneath him. And this time, he was the one lasting longer. "Who's commin' too soon now, huh? 'S not me, sunshine. Told ya I'd shut tha' sassy mouth 'a yers," he growled lowly; slowing his pace to just give you a few moments of recovery. You moaned at the sheer endless pleasure he granted you. Your hands gripped his thick arms like a vice after he had planted both palms firmly in the mattress beside your head to gain more leverage. "F-Fuck, Daryl," you whimpered; fingernails digging into his sweaty biceps. "I know. Jus' one more, 'kay? Can ya give me one more?" You nodded wordlessly. "Good girl," the archer praised and picked up his speed once again; pulling another sweet moan alongside some incoherent noises from you.
Your hands travelled. They left his arms to rest on his chest, where they fisted the fabric of his plaid shirt with the ripped off sleeves. The fabric held a darkened stain - a puddle of sweat formed on his chest.
Your hands continued to fist his shirt, as you pulled - an attempt to undo a few buttons. But once the archer noticed what your mission was, he stopped dead in his movements. "Nah, dun do tha'," he scolded you instantly and peeled your hands away from the fabric covering his upper body. "W-Why?" You asked breathlessly; not understanding his sudden mood shift. "'"Cause I told ya to!" He snapped.
Just in that moment, you realised that you must've hit another sore spot... But this time one that actually seemed to get to him. Not one that managed to turn him on.
"S-Sorry, D-Daryl, I-" You immediately apologised, but got interrupted once more. "Keep holdin' on ta my arms, if yer need sum'thin' to hold on to." His voice was gruff, but way more soft than a few moments ago. The archer redirected your hands and placed them once more around his sweaty biceps. Without another word, he continued where he left off, causing your grip to instantly tighten. "There ya go," he praised you again and readjusted your legs with his thighs. Just the slight change of angle was enough to send you a third time over the edge. This time, though, you dragged him right with you.
A broken sound - close to a cry, left the man's lips as he pulled out and coated the supple skin of your stomach with his release. A single droplet of sweat rolled down his neck as he threw his head back in ecstasy. It was a sight to behold. A sight you might never forget for the rest of your life - no matter how long your life was going to be.
A few moments later collapsed Daryl on the mattress beside you. He was clearly spent. Perhaps this had been something you both needed. Who knew?
"Imma take a shower," the archer announced after a while and left the bed - but not before gentleman-like wiping the mess he made on your stomach away with his hand. Without another word, he left, while you just laid there - still naked and staring at the ceiling; recalling in your mind what just happened. The sex managed to sober you up a bit. Did that really just happen? Had you been dreaming this?
You heard the water run, but not how Daryl returned to the room and settled down for the night in the armchair. You had ventured off to dreamland at some point.
To say the next morning was awkward was an absolute understatement. Awkward was not even remotely enough to describe the vibe between the both of you.
When you woke up again, the archer was nowhere to be seen. Now sober, you left the bed, picked up your clothes, noticed that you truly were - in fact in his room, and tiptoed butt naked down the hallway into your room. Luckily nobody had seen you. That would've been scandalous, right?
Your luck was also that everybody was quite hungover from last night. Some more, some less. Therefore noticed nobody the way you and Daryl acted around each other.
You could barely manage to look into his eyes.
You felt ashamed; thinking that you pushed him too far yesterday night. Thinking, that you were too bold and unable to control your damn feelings. Thinking that you pushed him away, instead of drawing him in. You anticipated that the archer must hate you now - and you couldn't even blame him...
Nevertheless seemed a conversation inevitable. You didn't want to destroy the friendship - if you could even call it that - the both of you had before last night.
It took you days to bite the bullet and ask him to talk, though. Sure, you had been on the road again since the CDC was a dead end, but that wasn't an excuse in your eyes.
"D-Daryl?" You approached him cautiously as you found him alone in the stables of the Greene farm; saddling a horse to go looking for Sophia. "Whatcha want?" He asked you and gave you a short look. You swallowed nervously. "Can we, uh, can we talk?" "'Bout wha'?" You watched him work for a moment, while your fingers fumbled with the hem of your t-shirt; trying to gather all the courage you could find. "That, uh, night at the CDC..." Your words came out as a whisper, but Daryl heard them nonetheless - and froze in all his tracks.
"Why'd ya wanna talk 'bout tha'?" He asked nonchalantly after a beat of silence and continued his work; had seemingly shaken off the small 'shock' quite quick. "I-I..." You started and sighed. "Things f-feel so weird between us since that n-night, and... I don't want that. I-I'm sorry for what I did. I'm s-sorry for making you sleep with me." Your eyes were stuck on him. You watched him and tried to gauge his reaction - afraid of what was going to happen.
"Yer sorry 'bout it?" Daryl asked then - almost in disbelief. Then he scoffed. "Do ya regret it?"
That was a question you didn't see coming. A question you haven't thought about yet. Did you regret it? Your memories took you back in time; letting you relive that night you shared with him. The answer was clear - as you quickly discovered.
"No, I don't, but... It was wrong. I shouldn't have-" "Wrong?" He interrupted you. His voice appalled. "Tha's what ya think 'bout this? 'Bout... us?" Daryl accused you with a grimace on his face. Was that... sadness you could detect in his blue orbs? Hurt?
You blinked; "U-Us?" were definitely confused by his words. "W-What do you mean 'us'?" "Ya know wha' I mean, Y/N." You shook your head. "No, Daryl. No, I don't. We've been practically ignoring each other since the CDC. We can't even talk properly! Neither of us can look into the other's eyes! Everything is just... weird, and you talk about an 'us'? No, I don't get it. Tell me. Explain it."
A frustrated huff left the archer's lips, before he started to gnaw at the pad of his thumb; averting your eyes. All of a sudden, the usually so confident redneck became all shy and insecure. "Dunno how," he started; merely shrugging his shoulders. "'S difficult, 'n I ain't good with words." "Try it, D," you encouraged him and gave him a soft smile. "Please. I want to make things right between us again." The archer nodded and took another moment - most likely to gather his thoughts. "'S tha' feeling, ya know? Can't pin it down. Always feelin' so strange whenever yer close to me."
Your heart skipped more than just one beat as his words urged to your ears. Could it be...? No...
"W-What do you feel? Can you... describe it?" Daryl lowered his gaze to the ground. The little stone laying beside his left foot suddenly became really interesting. "Jus' strange. Gets harder to breathe, 'n... My stomach's all messed up. Feels like an itch I can't scratch." You couldn't believe this was happening. Did that night cause Daryl to fall in love with you? "You're doing good, D. Keep going. What else?" You had to know.
He grunted; his foot playing with that little stone, before kicking it aimlessly over the concrete ground. "I... always go back to tha' night in my head. Can't forget it. Yer look. Yer touch. The way ya felt, I-" He stopped himself to take a deep breath. And you smiled. Perhaps having slept with him hadn't been a mistake. Perhaps you interpreted his behaviour wrong. Perhaps you just misread the signs...
"I jus' dunno how to act 'round ya. I dunno wha's happening to me. Tha's why I ain't talkin' to ya. Didn't mean to ignore ya..." Daryl apologised with his head still lowered.
You stepped closer to him and cautiously reached for his hand. He flinched, but didn't pull away. "Daryl, I... I think I know what happened to you," you whispered. "'N wha's tha'?" He asked; finally brave enough to lift his head to look into your eyes. You smiled and squeezed his hand. "I think you... are in love."
As quick as the man had lowered his guard, as quick was it up again.
He pulled his hand out of your grasp and scoffed, before he took a few steps back. "Pf. Love? Me? Tha's ridiculous, woman - 'n we both know it!" "Is it, yeah? You really think so?" "Yes!" He yelled, and wanted to rush past you - but you stopped him with your palm splayed on his chest. You didn't know if what your heart made you do was a wise decision, but it acted on its own will. Your head was powerless anyway.
Daryl's eyes travelled from yours to the hand on his chest and back. "Whatcha doin', woman?! Leave me the hell alo-" You had heard enough. You had held yourself back long enough. This was the only option you had left. It was do or die.
You cut the man off with standing on your tiptoes and connecting your lips to his. It was a chaste, gentle kiss - but nonetheless meaningful. It felt so right. So good. His lips so soft and warm - compared to his seemingly rough exterior. His blond-brown goatee tickled your skin in the best way possible.
Once more, Daryl froze to the ground; not moving a muscle.
When your lips left his again with a soft pop and you reopened your eyes, you could see how his eyelids fluttered slowly open as well. You could feel his heart galloping underneath your palm. "What do you feel now, Daryl?" You asked in a hushed tone. Your eyes never left his. The archer swallowed hard. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. "I-I-I..." He stammered out; his cheeks heating up. "G-Good," he croaked out. "R-Real good." You smiled - happy that your heart had made the right decision. "Wanna do it again?" He blinked. The tips of his ears got red as well. "I-If yer willin' t-to k-kiss me again?" Your smile even widened, before you reached up to cup his beardy, red cheeks in your palms to pull him into another kiss. Daryl gasped against your lips; eyes falling shut and lips following your lead. It caused the kiss to get more intimate. More demanding. More passionate.
His hands acted on their own will, as they settled on your waist and pulled you closer. Your body crashed against his. You could tell that he hadn't kissed a lot in his life; his movements clumsy and messy - but perfectly Daryl. And you loved it. You didn't care how experienced or skilled he was. All you cared about was him - and all the love he deserved you wanted to give him.
He was far from perfect; had his flaws - but so were you.
"What do you say now about love, pretty boy?" You asked in a playful, yet loving manner; your hands crossed behind his neck. Daryl's hands gently squeezed your sides, "Shuddup." before he dipped his head to indulge you into yet another kiss.
Yeah... He was definitely whipped.
Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @belitoxx @fictive-sl0th @marvelcasey05 @loz-3 @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @sweetz1919 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @dixons-sunshine @cakesandtom @mayday2007 @dixonsdarkelf @huntedmusicgardenn @ffsjustletmesleep
#daryl dixon#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon the walking dead#the walking dead daryl#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon fan fiction#daryl dixon fanfiction#twd daryl#twd daryl dixon#twd fic#twd fanfiction#twd#the walking dead#the walking dead fanfiction#the walking dead fic#the walking dead fanfic#daryl x reader#twd smut#the walking dead smut
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Would really like to hear more people talking about how to effectively protest in 2025. Standing in a public area holding signs is ineffective. Public shaming only works when your opponents have any shame (apologies to Stokely Carmichael) so what do we do?
Cities are blue overall. So is disrupting cities, blocking traffic, really going to be effective? It just becomes images on the news that people can dismiss as "city problems". Do we take protests somewhere else? Target city halls across the country in smaller communities to try to light a fire? Take it to people's houses? Protesting the Supreme Court justices at home seemed to freak everyone out quite a bit, is that the way to go?
The only way to hurt plutocrats is to hit them right in the money, so how do we do that effectively? I'm not convinced boycotts do anything? So what would actually hurt them?
I don't know if these discussions are happening in private, which would make sense but is frustrating for people who'd like to get involved, or if they're just not happening.
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SSR Malleus Draconia - New Year's Attire Vignette
"I should just pull this cord out once, correct?"
[Mister S's Mystery Shop]
[Malleus casts spells]
Malleus: Now then, I've used my magic to organize the shelves. What should I do next…?
Ignihyde Student A: Ooh. This laptop's pretty cheap. Though, I can't check how it'd operate, since it's got no power.
Ignihyde Student B: Apparently if you ask one of the guys working here, they'll power it up for you, so we should ask someone. Let's see if there's anyone free…
Malleus: Yes? Is there something I can do for you?
Ignihyde Student A: Eek... I just made eye contact with Malleus Draconia...! U-UH, NO, SIR! I WILL ASK SOMEONE ELSE!
Malleus: The others are currently busy with their own duties. I can assist you if there is something in the store you need.
Ignihyde Student B: Uhh… R-Right then, so… Could I get this computer booted up for a sec… Pretty please?
Malleus: This mechanical box, is it? …If I recall, the others would simply press this button here to turn it on.
[click]
Malleus: It isn't working. When this happens, I should pull this cord out once, correct? That is what Lilia once taught me.
Ignihyde Student A: Eh, you're going to completely unplug it!? But isn't it still in the process of starting up…?
[snap!! crackle, crackle!]
Ignihyde Student B: Eek! It sparked! That was a pretty strong yank…
Malleus: Alright. Now I simply have to do the same thing once more.
[click…THUD!!!]
[the power goes out]
Malleus: Hm? All the lights in the store seem to have turned off.
Sam: It's a power outage! I'll go check on the breakers, so I need all you little imps to stay right where you are for safety!
Heartslabyul Student A: It's so dark I can't see anything…! What's going on!?
Pomefiore Student A: I totally saw some sparks a second ago! Malleus Draconia must have done something! We need to run for our lives!!
Malleus: Wait. Sam said to stay right where you are.
Malleus: I warn each and every one of you… I will not allow anyone to take one step out of this store.
Students: GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!
[everyone runs way]
Floyd: Ahah. I can't believe you caused a power outage, Sea Slug-senpai. That cracks me up.
Malleus: I simply was attempting to turn on that mechanical box.
Sam: It seems you pulled out the plug while it was still one, didn't you, my little horned imp?
Sam: Because of that the plug shorted out, and when you plugged it back in, it tripped the breaker.
Sam: In a nutshell… That's what caused the store's lights to go out.
Jamil: At least the laptop is fine, and the power's restored once the breaker was flipped.
Jamil: But… Now we have another problem on our hands.
[cricket, cricket...]
Jack: Looks like it. The power's back on, but all the customers that left haven't come back in.
Floyd: Ain't it just 'cause Sea Slug-senpai scared 'em all off?
Malleus: I scared them? Perhaps I may have been the cause of the power outage, but all I did after that was caution those who would go against Sam's instructions.
Jamil: Well, that's… I mean, if they heard your voice echoing in the darkness like that… You know…
Sam: Now, now. I know none of this was done with any malicious intent.
Sam: But we're a business, after all. We can't lose customers and lose sales, now can we? There needs to be some kind of penalty.
Sam: So, I'll just deduct points from your total score towards the special bonus.
Jamil: A point deduction because we caused a decrease in customers, hm. Now that's a serious blow.
Malleus: …I neither intend to lose this competition, nor do I wish to be held in disdain.
Malleus: Whatever the outcome, I must take responsibility for my actions.
Malleus: I shall see our customers returned, and our sales up once more.
Sam: Oh? You're talking a big game there. I see that glint in your eyes… I can tell you mean it.
Sam: Nyeheehee! Alright then, I'll give you a change.
Sam: If you can make more sales today than you did yesterday before we close, then I'll waive everything that happened earlier! How's that?
Malleus: I understand. I shall see it done.
[Mister S's Mystery Shop]
Malleus: My apologies. I seem to have been a burden, Viper.
Jamil: Please, no need to say that. If anyone from Diasomnia learned that I had you apologizing to me, I'd never hear the end of it!
Jamil: However, will it even be possible to increase sales to more than we earned yesterday in the time we have remaining today…?
Malleus: We only need to draw back in the customers that left. Wait here.
[Beside Mister S's Mystery Shop]
[Heartslabyul students chatter]
Malleus: Ah, perfect, there are some humans milling about. You all there, have you purchased what you need from the New Year's Sale?
Malleus: Now is your chance to peruse our wares at your leisure. You would do well to come in.
Heartslabyul Student B: ACK… IT'S MALLEUS DRACONIA!
Heartslabyul Student C: I heard a rumor… His magic brought down a streak of lightning crashing down into the store and it knocked out all the lights!
Malleus: What?
Heartslabyul Student B: I-I even heard that he tried to forcefully drag customers back into the dark shop… I'm too scared!
Students: R-RUN AWAY―――!!
[they run away]
[Mister S's Mystery Shop]
Malleus: I don't recall that happening whatsoever.
Jamil: It seems the incident has been embellished beyond reason.
Jamil: Perhaps we need to do something to reverse this frightening impression you've seem to have left on people.
Jamil: For example, what if we were to fix how you interact with customers? That is… Maybe try to be a bit less stiff…
Jack: I just saw a bunch of guys in front of the shop that looked like they had all the blood drained from their face… Oh, I see, it was just Malleus-senpai.
Floyd: Oh, right, just Malleus-senpai.
Malleus: What do you mean, "oh"? What are you implying?
Jack: Nothing, just thought they looked real put out.
Malleus: What is that supposed to mean? Certainly, the power outage from before may have caused some sort of misunderstanding…
Malleus: However, I've never received a single complaint on how I interact with customers.
Floyd: I mean, isn't that just 'cause you just bein' there puts immense pressure on 'em?
Malleus: I've only ever treated them as I would anyone else…
Sam: Oh me, oh my, it looks like we only have our staff inside the store. How about we try to bring some customers in?
Malleus: You're right. Allow me.
Jamil: YOU CAN STAY RIGHT HERE, MALLEUS-SENPAI!
Jack: Sam-san, you're carrying something pretty big there. Is that some new product?
Sam: Oh, this? Another shop sent it to me out of the blue.
Malleus: Hm, it has a bright red face and some magnificent golden teeth. And these… aren't horns, but ears, yes? What a curious creature.
Jamil: What kind of beast is this creature supposed to resemble? It sort of resembles a lion.
Sam: You're right! This big guy is a SHISHIMAI, a legendary beast from the east that resembles a lion.
Sam: It is a talisman that brings good fortune during the New Year's over there. It may give the impression of being an unapproachable creature…
Sam: But these guys'll show up at New Year festivals and go around blessing people with luck in the coming year by chomping on their heads!
Jack: Eh? Are those people alright after getting their heads bit!?
Sam: Oh, oops, I didn't mean for you to misunderstand. It's merely a play bite, they're not really harming them.
Sam: We have these set up at the entrance to the eastern branch of our shop, so another shop tried to also put them out.
Sam: But it seems many customers find how they look scary. These got shipped over to us, to see if there was something we can do with them.
Malleus: I see. Although it is a creature specifically for ringing in the new year, people are frightened and avoid it…
Malleus: …Sam, I will be borrowing this SHISHIMAI for a moment. I shall use my magic to puppeteer it and bring customers back in.
Floyd: What, the guy everyone's scared of is gonna use a bit of decoration that everyone's also scared of to try and bring people in? Ain't that gonna just scare 'em off even more?
Malleus: A talisman from a far-off land should pique their curiosity.
Malleus: It will be enough if I simply use my magic to manipulate it to move as if it were alive, to garner the people's eye.
Malleus: I will test how it moves. I shall leave my post for a moment, I leave you all to take of things.
Jamil: Uh… Malleus-senpai?
[Courtyard]
Malleus: Hm… I consulted some eastern resources… Is this how it should be moving?
Jamil: Ah, I thought you'd be here.
Malleus: Viper. How did you know where to find me?
Jamil: I assumed that you'd be in a pretty open space if you were going to try to maneuver something that big.
Jamil: Is there anything I may help you with?
Jamil: It's not like there's any use sticking around the shop when business is slow, after all…
Jamil: I can't just stand around while our team's special bonus and the shop's profit are in jeopardy.
Malleus: Then, perhaps you could provide me your opinions on how the SHISHIMAI should move.
Malleus: I've no trouble manipulating it with my magic, yes…
Malleus: However, I require a solution in order for it to move smooth enough to draw in customers.
Jamil: I understand. Then, I will observe your movements and support you to the best of my abilities.
[Courtyard]
[ZOOM!!]
Malleus: How did that movement seem?
Jamil: It was so fast I couldn't see anything!
Jamil: It may be a legendary beast, but I can't imagine it would move that fast… I think it would be better for it to move slower.
Malleus: I thought perhaps that would give it more life… Then, I suppose this time I will attempt to move it more serenely.
Malleus: I should tilt and turn its head slowly… Have it dance in the heavens as if rising from the earth…
[GRAH!!]
Jamil: …!? What was that move just now…!?
Malleus: Oh, did it seem alive?
Jamil: No, not at all.
Jamil: It was just moving in an unnatural way for a real, living creature… So I imagined a terrifying monster instead.
Malleus: Terrifying? Well, that would just cause the people to flee even more.
Malleus: It seems there is still much room for improvement. I'll focus on how the joints move next. Let's see, now…
Malleus: …This was a failure as well. Moving it with my magic may be simple enough, and yet it is attempting to give it life that is eluding me.
Malleus: What must I do to have it move with an elegance that will draw the humans back in?
Jamil: …......
Malleus: What is it, Viper? You've been silent for some while now. Have you exhausted yourself?
Jamil: Ah, no…
Jamil: I just couldn't get out of my head how terrifying the SHISHIMAI was as it moved.
Jamil: It almost seemed as though it could swallow us whole… It left a pretty big impact on me.
Malleus: So, you say it left an unforgettable impression on you?
Malleus: Hm…
Jamil: What's wrong? Is something the matter?
Malleus: I've just had a good idea… I think I know what would attract the people.
[Beside Mister S's Mystery Shop]
A few hours later―
Scarabia Student A: I want to go see the sales at the Mystery Shop…
Students: BUT MALLEUS DRACONIA'S TOO SCARY!!
Scarabia Student A: Is it true that he got mad during his shift and fired down lightning bolts? Maybe we should just go home…
Savanaclaw Student A: Hey, something is coming.
[rustle, rustle, ROOOAR!!]
Savanaclaw Student A: Ack, what's that monster!? There's a huge lion-lookin' thing floating in the air.
Scarabia Student A: It's creepy with how it's wiggling like that… Why's there a terrifying monster like that on campus?
[drifts away]
Savanaclaw Student A: Oh, it's going back towards the Mystery Shop.
Students: …
Scarabia Student A: That was scary, but… Why do I feel like checking it out?
Savanaclaw Student A: I totally get you! I'd never seen anything like that…
Savanaclaw Student A: …Let's go after it!
[Mister S's Mystery Shop]
Scarabia Student A: Huh? It's pitch black in here… Where'd that thing from earlier go?
Malleus: Welcome.
Savanaclaw Student A: AAAAH, IT'S MALLEUS DRACONIA!!
Malleus: You've come for this, have you not? Heh, I am not surprised it piqued your curiosity.
Malleus: This is called a SHISHIMAI, and it is considered a talisman of good fortune in the east.
Savanaclaw Student A: A talisman? So, basically, you're saying…
Malleus: That's correct, I am making it move with my magic.
[GWAK!]
Savanaclaw Student A: The just raised its head up high and gave a howl before dancing in the air again! It's really got spirit…!
Pomefiore Student B: Seeing a strange unearthly creature next to Draconia like this… It gives me chills.
Pomefiore Student C: I-It's scary… Just lookin' at it feels overwhelming.
Students: BUT… I CAN'T TAKE MY EYES OFF IT. I JUST KEEP GETTING SUCKED IN…!
Sam: Fly! You did good, my horned imp!
Sam: We've got twice the number of customers and profits from before the slump. I was worried there for a moment, but it looks like it was a blessing in disguise!
Jamil: Right now, there is a sight that cannot be witnessed anywhere else…
Jamil: Once that rumor got out, it became a grand success that's packed this shop full of customers.
Floyd: Looks like even the miniature SHISHIMAI are all gettin' sold, too. These morons're too easy.
Malleus: I simply took Viper's advice and suggested we sell them. He said that for occasions such as these, a memento would be highly sought after.
Jamil: To be perfectly honestly, I didn't actually think they'd sell this well. All this must be due to Malleus-senpai's influence.
Malleus: My influence, hm. Well, I do admit that I thought long and hard about that because of this incident.
Jack: Hm? What does that mean?
Malleus: Viper said that the way the SHISHIMAI moved was unforgettable and terrifying…
Malleus: So I thought to myself. Why is the SHISHIMAI considered a legendary beast, although it is feared by many?
Malleus: When humans fear something, it means that they are in awe of its power.
Malleus: Whether they are frightened or entranced by it, there is a fine line between fear and reverence.
Malleus: Thus, wouldn't it make sense drawing out the feelings of reverence from the thing that evokes fear, and gain the attention of those people?
Sam: I see… Did you come up with that because of what you experienced?
Sam: I'd expect nothing less from you, my horned imp. I'm sure the SHISHIMAI are also happy to have their moment in the spotlight, as well.
Sam: Just as I promised, I'll consider that slump earlier completely forgotten. If anything else, I'll consider it bonus points towards your special bonus!
[knock, knock, knock]
Diasomnia Student A: Um! Do you guys still have some of those mini SHISHIMAI for sale!?
Octavinelle Student A: I hear that if we buy that, we'd gain awesome magical power just like Malleus Draconia. I absolutely need one!
Sam: Oh, my. They're still coming, even though we're supposed to be closed… Tomorrow may be just as busy as today, at this rate.
Jamil: Malleus-senpai, looks like you were a hit. …Although, I feel like their reactions are still kind of self-centered.
Malleus: I'm paying it no mind. I consider the work I have done here to simply be another experience that dots my brief time as a student here.
Malleus: I want to be able to enjoy myself until the very end. I shall overlook any minor issues.
Sam: You said it. Keep those vibes going all the way 'til the last day for me.
Malleus: Naturally. You may leave it to me.
Malleus: I shall use my awe-inspiring power that toes the line of fear to continue to bring in even more customers.
Requested by Anonymous.
#twisted wonderland#twst#malleus draconia#jamil viper#jack howl#floyd leech#sam#twst malleus#twst jamil#twst jack#twst floyd#twst sam#twst translation#twst new years#mention: lilia
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You: Nice rack. Me: Thanks, I built it myself from medieval schematics. You: Oh that's co [your shoulders dislocate]
#salome speaks#shitpost#flirting#violence#the rack#torture#i am too tired to be allowed to post right now#and i am making that everyone else's problem
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i love you season 1 of the flash
#cw the flash#the flash cw#the flash#the flash fandom#hartley rathaway#eowells#barry allen#4 am thoughts#4 am posts#4 am posting#4 am ramblings#unhealthy workplace relationships#unhealthy work environment#hartley rathaway x eowells#but not in an i ship it way#but in the fact that it definitely happened and was unfortunate for everyone involved#hartley blew out his parents and harrison’s windows and blew up the pipeline but decided to murk barry in the streets??#hartley saw eowells let some twink run around in red leather while praising him for it#and decide to make it literally everyone else’s problem#he really went ‘there’s only one person who’s gonna destroy this twink and that’s gonna be me!’ and meant it literally#all the ‘villains’ in this show are so cunty#cisco and caitlin heard that hartley was causing drama again and they went ‘oh shit’ and grabbed their popcorn#meanwhile barry was looking around confused scratching his head and sighing
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Call me Odysseus because I want to go home and I'm about to make that everyone else's problem.
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Look, I made these and now I'm making it everyone else's problem.
#i will make more#because why not#im a menace#phineas and ferb#phineas flynn#dr doofenshmirtz#dwampyverse#heinz doofenshmirtz#perry the platypus#love handel#if anyone has any suggestions#i will make it#dan povenmire#milo murphy's law#hamster and gretel#photo edit#pfp#pnf
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drowning in the deepest of truths, I think I'm falling for you - choi seungcheol scenario
hellooo ~ so it's been a while... few things to address😅 i saw svt recently and i can confirm i cried hahah and second thing, a certain mr. seungcheol choi bias wrecked me so we're here. say thank u to him🤣
THIS ISTG TOOK ME SO LONG TO WRITE. if you've been here for a long time, i think it's obvious i love a good friends-to-lovers storyline. i wanna give myself a pat on the back for writing this😅hope you like it too!!
for my other svt fics, check them here
All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2025 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.
(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)
You’ve been friends with Seungcheol for as long as you can remember. He’s the dependable guy, the one who shows up at your door with takeout when you’re upset, drives you to late-night emergencies, and threatens to "have a word" with anyone who so much as looks at you the wrong way. He’s also the same guy who will call you at 2 AM to complain about Jeonghan stealing his food or Seungkwan roasting his playlist choices.
It’s all very platonic.
At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.
But here’s the thing—platonic friends don’t always behave the way Seungcheol does with you.
Like how he always walks closest to the road when you’re together. You thought he did that for everyone until Jeonghan once teased him about being your personal bodyguard. “What, I’m just making sure she’s safe,” he’d grumbled, cheeks faintly red. You’d laughed it off, but now every time he switches sides to keep you away from traffic, your brain unhelpfully replays Jeonghan’s teasing.
Then there’s his car. His precious car. The one you’ve seen him ban people from for spilling a drink or even breathing too close to the upholstery. Yet, somehow, you’re the only one allowed to eat fries in it without getting scolded. “Because you’re neat,” he’d explained once, though you distinctly remember dropping ketchup on the seat that one time. He cleaned it up himself and still handed you another fry.
And don’t even get started on the hand thing. He always has a hand on your back—guiding you through crowds, steadying you when you wobble on uneven ground, or just casually resting it there when you’re walking side by side.
It’s warm, reassuring, and totally not something friends think about when they’re lying in bed at night.
You tried asking him about it once. “You’re very handsy, you know.”
“Would you rather I let you trip and fall?” he’d retorted with a smirk.
“Not what I meant, but okay.”
The problem is, Seungcheol seems completely unaffected by all this. He treats you like you’re just another one of his friends, albeit one he’s particularly protective of. You’ve heard him swear up and down to Jeonghan and Seungkwan that you’re just his friend. Jeonghan, of course, doesn’t believe him.
“Right, because you hold all your ‘friends’ like they’re a national treasure,” Jeonghan had said, earning himself a withering glare.
“Shut up, Jeonghan,” Seungcheol had snapped, but his ears were noticeably pink.
Then there was Seungkwan, who once asked, “Why don’t you just marry her already? Save us all the suspense.”
“We’re friends,” Seungcheol had groaned, dragging a hand down his face.
It’s honestly infuriating. Not because you want him to admit something else (okay, maybe you do, but only a little), but because it leaves you constantly second-guessing everything.
Like when he shows up to your apartment with soup because you mentioned a scratchy throat, or when he lingers outside your building after dropping you off just to make sure you’re inside safely.
Or—your personal favorite—when he softens. That big, tough guy act he puts on with everyone else melts the second he looks at you.
His voice gets gentler, his eyes crinkle when he smiles, and he’s suddenly the kind of guy who brushes hair out of your face without a second thought.
It’s maddening.
And apparently, you’re not the only one who thinks so.
“I don’t get it,” Jeonghan says one day, while you’re all sitting at a café. “Why are you two still dancing around each other? Just confess already.”
You nearly choke on your drink. “What?! There’s nothing to confess!”
“Exactly,” Seungcheol agrees, but his jaw tightens ever so slightly
Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. “Sure. And I’m the president.”
“Jeonghan, drop it,” Seungcheol warns.
“Fine, fine.” Jeonghan smirks but doesn’t look convinced.
By the time you’re walking home together later, the conversation keeps replaying in your head. Seungcheol is quiet beside you, his hands shoved into his pockets.
“You’re awfully quiet,” you say, bumping your shoulder against his.
He glances at you, his expression unreadable. “Just thinking.”
“About what?”
“...Nothing important.”
You don’t push, but as his hand finds its familiar place on your back when you cross the street, you can’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, Jeonghan was onto something.
You knew it was going to be a long day when your boss handed you that stack of papers at 4 PM. By the time you finally wrapped up, the office was practically empty, the night sky spilling across the windows.
A quick glance at your phone confirmed what you already dreaded—you’d missed the last bus. Groaning, you stuffed your things into your bag, resigning yourself to the long walk home.
It wasn’t that bad. Just… cold, dark, and slightly creepy. You’d be fine.
Totally fine.
But when you pushed through the lobby doors and stepped outside, you stopped dead in your tracks.
There he was.
Choi Seungcheol, leaning casually against his car, arms crossed over his chest like he’d been waiting all night. His head tilted up as soon as he heard the door open, and when he saw you, that familiar, infuriatingly soft smile spread across his face.
“Finally,” he said, pushing off the car. “I thought you were going to sleep in there.”
Your mouth opened and closed a few times before you managed, “What… what are you doing here?”
“Picking you up,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world
“I didn’t ask you to.”
He shrugged. “Didn’t need to.”
You frowned, confused. “How did you even know I was still here?”
“Your light was on when I drove by earlier.”
“You drove by?”
He had the audacity to look sheepish. “I figured you’d miss the bus. And I didn’t want you walking home alone.”
Your heart did an annoying little flip. “I can take care of myself, you know.”
“Sure you can,” he said, completely unfazed. “But humor me, okay? Get in the car.”
You hesitated for a moment, debating whether to argue, but the cold wind nipping at your cheeks made the decision for you. “Fine,” you muttered, walking past him to the passenger door.
“Good choice,” he said, smirking as he opened the door for you.
The car was warm, smelling faintly of his cologne, and as you settled into the seat, you couldn’t help but notice the little things—how he’d adjusted the seat warmer on your side or how there was a blanket folded neatly in the backseat.
He climbed in and started the engine, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “Hungry?”
You blinked. “What?”
“You barely eat when you’re working late,” he said. “We can grab something on the way home.”
You stared at him, baffled. “Do you do this for all your friends?”
He smirked, pulling out of the parking lot. “Do what?”
“Show up unannounced, wait in the cold, and then offer to feed them.”
“Only the ones who miss the last bus.”
Your lips twitched despite yourself. “So just me, then?”
“Just you,” he admitted, glancing at you again with a small smile.
The ride home was quiet, the hum of the engine and the city lights passing by making everything feel oddly intimate. When he finally pulled up in front of your building, you turned to him, suddenly unsure of what to say.
“Thanks for… this,” you said awkwardly, gesturing vaguely.
“Anytime,” he said easily.
As you reached for the door handle, he stopped you. “Hey.”
You turned back, and his expression had softened, the playful smirk replaced with something quieter, more sincere.
“Text me next time, okay? So I don’t have to guess.”
Your chest tightened, and you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Okay.”
You stepped out of the car, his eyes on you the entire time, and as you walked to your building, you couldn’t help but smile.
He wasn’t just a friend. Not to you, anyway. And maybe, just maybe, you weren’t just a friend to him either.
It was supposed to be a quiet night for Seungcheol. He’d gone out with some friends, had a couple of drinks, and was planning to head home early. But somehow, he ended up back at Jeonghan’s place with Seungkwan sitting cross-legged on the couch, both of them looking far too smug for his liking.
They were up to something. They were always up to something.
“So,” Jeonghan started, drawing out the word like he had all the time in the world, “guess who’s out on a date right now?”
Seungcheol barely glanced up from his phone. “I don’t know. Who?”
“You,” Seungkwan deadpanned, then snorted. “Kidding. It’s her.”
Seungcheol’s fingers froze mid-scroll. “What?”
“You know who,” Jeonghan said, raising an eyebrow.
“She’s on a date,” Seungkwan added, like he was explaining something to a toddler.
Seungcheol’s brain short-circuited for a second. “Wait. What?”
“Why are you so shocked?” Jeonghan leaned back, looking like the cat that got the cream. “She’s a grown woman. She deserves to have a little fun.”
“She’s—she’s on a date?” Seungcheol repeated, his voice louder this time
“Yes, and he’s so handsome,” Seungkwan said dramatically, clasping his hands together like he was narrating a fairytale. “Tall, charming, great hair—”
“Wait a minute. You set her up?” Seungcheol cut in, his voice sharp
“Of course,” Jeonghan said breezily. “You weren’t making a move, so we figured someone else should.”
“I’m not—” Seungcheol started, then stopped, his jaw clenching. “She doesn’t need you meddling in her life.”
“She seemed fine with it,” Jeonghan said, grinning. “Actually, she looked pretty excited.”
That sentence hit Seungcheol like a punch to the gut. You? Excited to go on a date with some random guy? The thought made his chest tighten in a way he didn’t want to think about.
“I don’t get why you care so much,” Seungkwan said, narrowing his eyes. “I mean, she’s just your friend, right?”
Seungcheol’s head snapped toward him, but he didn’t say anything, his jaw working furiously as he tried to come up with a response.
“Right?” Seungkwan pressed, leaning forward.
Jeonghan smirked. “You do seem awfully worked up for someone who’s ‘just a friend.’”
Seungcheol shot him a glare that could’ve melted steel. “She is my friend.”
“Hmm,” Jeonghan hummed, unconvinced. “Then why do you look like you’re about to track down this guy and challenge him to a duel?”
“I’m not—” Seungcheol groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m just… concerned.”
“About what?” Seungkwan asked innocently.
“About her,” Seungcheol snapped. “What if he’s some creep? What if he says something to upset her? What if—”
“Oh my God,” Jeonghan interrupted, laughing. “You’re jealous.”
“I’m not jealous,” Seungcheol said through gritted teeth.
“Then why are you gripping the couch like it insulted your ancestors?” Seungkwan asked, gesturing to Seungcheol’s white-knuckled hands.
“I’m just protective,” he argued weakly.
“Right. Protective,” Jeonghan said, rolling his eyes. “Because that totally explains the vein popping out of your forehead right now.”
Seungcheol groaned again, sinking back into the couch. He hated how transparent he was, especially to these two.
“Look,” Jeonghan said, leaning forward, his tone suddenly serious. “If you don’t want her going on dates with other guys, then maybe you should finally admit how you feel.”
“I don’t—”
“Don’t even try it,” Seungkwan cut in, holding up a hand. “We all know. She’s the only person you drop everything for. The only one you talk to with that stupid soft voice. You treat her like she’s your entire world, but you’re too stubborn to say it.”
Seungcheol opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out. Because they were right. They were absolutely, infuriatingly right.
“Okay, fine,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe I feel something. But what if she doesn’t feel the same?”
Jeonghan snorted. “Are you kidding me? She’s just as bad as you. She talks about you all the time, and don’t even get me started on the way she looks at you. You’re both idiots.”
Seungkwan nodded solemnly. “Big, dumb idiots.”
Seungcheol stared at them, his mind racing. Maybe it was time to stop being an idiot.
“Where’s this date happening?” he asked suddenly.
Jeonghan and Seungkwan exchanged a glance, their smirks returning.
“Why?” Jeonghan asked, feigning innocence.
Seungcheol stood, grabbing his jacket. “Because I’m about to fix this.”
“Finally,” Seungkwan muttered, shaking his head.
Jeonghan grinned. “Go get her, tiger.”
And with that, Seungcheol stormed out, determined to set things right—even if it meant crashing your date.
Meanwhile you were having a perfectly peaceful evening. The kind where the air was crisp, the stars were starting to peek out, and the banana milk you’d picked up from the convenience store was hitting just right. Strolling through your neighborhood, you took another long sip, savoring the sweetness.
And then, like something out of a drama, Seungcheol’s sleek black car zipped past you.
You blinked, nearly choking on your drink.
Was that…? No, it couldn’t be. But then the brake lights lit up, and the car slowed before making a sharp U-turn.
You stopped walking, half-expecting someone else to step out of the car. But, of course, it was Seungcheol.
He parked haphazardly by the curb and got out, looking a little disheveled, which was unusual for him. His jacket was slightly askew, and his hair looked like he’d run his hands through it one too many times.
“Hey,” he said, jogging up to you, his voice slightly breathless.
“Uh, hi?” you said, thoroughly confused. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” he countered, crossing his arms but not quite meeting your eyes.
“I’m just walking,” you replied, holding up your banana milk as if to prove your innocence. “What about you?”
He hesitated for a second too long. “I was… driving.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Driving? Around here?”
“Yeah,” he said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was… in the area.”
“In the area?” you repeated, unconvinced.
“Yes,” he said firmly, but his eyes flickered to the drink in your hand, betraying his nerves.
You decided not to press him. Seungcheol acting weird wasn’t exactly new, but something about him tonight seemed different. Like he was on edge. His jaw was tight, his shoulders tense, and he kept shifting from foot to foot like he didn’t know what to do with himself.
“You okay?” you asked softly, tilting your head.
He froze, then sighed, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
“I’m just… stressed,” he admitted reluctantly.
“Work?” you guessed.
“Something like that,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze.
You frowned, feeling a pang of concern. Without thinking, you held out your banana milk to him, your fingers curling around the straw as you offered it up. “Here. This always makes me feel better.”
He blinked at you, caught completely off guard. “What?”
“Drink it,” you said, blinking up at him innocently. “It’ll help.”
He stared at you for a moment, his expression softening in that way that always made your heart skip a beat. “You’re sharing your banana milk with me?”
“Don’t make it weird,” you mumbled, cheeks warming.
A small smile tugged at his lips as he took the drink from you, his fingers brushing yours. He took a hesitant sip, his eyes never leaving yours, and for a moment, the world felt strangely quiet.
“Not bad,” he said, handing it back to you.
“See? Instant stress relief,” you said lightly, though your chest felt tight for reasons you didn’t want to examine too closely.
He didn’t respond right away, his gaze lingering on you in a way that made you feel uncharacteristically shy. Finally, he reached out, ruffling your hair like he used to do when you were younger. “You’re too good to me, you know that?”
You laughed softly, brushing his hand away. “Someone’s gotta take care of you.”
His smile faltered just slightly, something unspoken passing between you before he cleared his throat and stepped back. “I’ll drive you home.”
“It’s just a short walk—”
“Let me drive you,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
You didn’t fight him on it. You weren’t sure why, but Seungcheol’s strange mood tugged at something deep inside you.
As you climbed into his car and he pulled onto the road, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to his stress than he was letting on. And from the way his grip on the steering wheel tightened every time he glanced at you, you had a feeling he was thinking the exact same thing.
A few days later since that night. You're still wondering why Seungcheol was acting weird but you brush it off, thinking maybe he's just stressed because of work.
Now you're somewhere unfamiliar.
You sighed in frustration, staring at the unfamiliar street signs around you.
You were definitely lost.
The errand you thought would take twenty minutes had somehow turned into an hour-long disaster. To make matters worse, your phone signal had cut out just when you’d tried to pull up directions.
After wandering aimlessly for what felt like forever, your phone finally regained some service, and you immediately dialed Jeonghan’s number. He was your go-to for emergencies like this—always on his phone and annoyingly calm in situations where you were about ready to cry.
“Hello?” Jeonghan’s familiar voice answered on the first ring
“Jeonghan!” you practically wailed. “I’m lost.”
“Lost?” he echoed, sounding more amused than concerned. “Where are you?”
“I don’t know,” you groaned, scanning the street for anything remotely familiar. “I think I took a wrong turn somewhere, and then my phone lost signal, and now I have no idea where I am.”
“Okay, okay,” he said, clearly suppressing a laugh. “Relax. Describe your surroundings.”
You rattled off a description of the nearby buildings and street signs, and Jeonghan hummed thoughtfully. “Alright, I think I know where you are. Just stay put, and I’ll send someone to get you.”
“Wait—someone? Who?”
But before he could answer, the line disconnected.
Fifteen minutes later, as you sat on a bench scrolling through your now-working phone, your screen lit up with an incoming call from Seungcheol.
You hesitated for a second before answering. “Hello?”
“What the hell?” was the first thing out of his mouth, his voice a mix of irritation and concern.
“What?” you asked, confused
“Why didn’t you call me?” he demanded
You blinked. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re lost, right? Why didn’t you call me?”
“I—” You paused, feeling slightly guilty. “I figured you’d be busy with work. I didn’t want to bother you.”
“Bother me?” he repeated incredulously. “You think calling me when you’re lost is a bother?”
“I mean… kind of?” you said hesitantly. “You’re always so busy, and I didn’t want to distract you.”
There was a brief pause, and when he spoke again, his tone was softer, almost hurt. “You’re never a bother, you know that, right?”
You swallowed, suddenly feeling small. “I didn’t want to interrupt anything important.”
“You’re important,” he shot back without missing a beat.
Your heart did a funny little flip at his words, but you tried to shake it off. “Jeonghan said he’d send someone to get me,” you mumbled.
“Yeah, and that someone is me,” Seungcheol said, his voice firm. “I’m on my way.”
“Oh,” was all you managed to say.
“Stay where you are. I’ll be there in ten minutes,” he said, and then the line went dead.
True to his word, Seungcheol’s car pulled up exactly ten minutes later. He got out and strode toward you, his expression a mixture of exasperation and relief.
“You okay?” he asked, his eyes scanning you for any signs of distress.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said sheepishly. “Sorry for making you come all the way out here.”
“Don’t apologize,” he said firmly. “Just… next time, call me first, okay? No matter what. I don’t care how busy I am.”
You nodded, feeling warmth spread through your chest at his words. “Okay. I will.”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair before reaching out to flick your forehead gently. “Idiot,” he muttered, but there was no heat in his voice. “You scared me.”
You smiled up at him, clutching your phone tightly. “Thanks for coming to get me.”
He shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Always.”
And with that, he opened the car door for you, muttering something about making sure you had a proper map app installed while you slid into the passenger seat, feeling safer than you’d felt all day.
The car was quiet save for the low hum of the engine as Seungcheol drove. You sat in the passenger seat, sneaking glances at him every now and then. His brows were slightly furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line. You could tell he was still annoyed—though more at himself than at you—but the silence was starting to get to you.
“Are you really mad?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper
He didn’t answer right away, keeping his eyes fixed on the road. You shifted in your seat, feeling a small pang of guilt.
“Cheol?” you tried again, a little louder this time
Finally, he glanced at you, just for a second, and that’s when he saw it—the faint pout on your lips, your eyes wide and filled with worry.
Whatever lingering annoyance he felt melted away instantly.
How could he ever stay mad at you?
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, swallowing the sudden lump in his throat.
In that fleeting moment, something clicked. He’d always known he cared about you, but this was different.
This was deeper.
The way his chest ached at the thought of you being lost, the way he couldn’t focus on anything else until he knew you were safe—it all made sense now.
He was in deep. Really, truly in deep.
But he kept that realization buried, locking it away for now. Because what if you didn’t feel the same? What if he ruined what you already had?
So instead of saying what was really on his mind, he shook his head and let out a small sigh. “No, I’m not mad,” he said softly, his voice losing all the sharpness from earlier.
“Really?” you asked, your pout disappearing as a hopeful smile crept onto your face.
He glanced at you again, his lips twitching into a faint smile. “Really. Just… call me next time, okay? No matter what.”
“Okay,” you said quickly, nodding.
“Good,” he said, turning his attention back to the road. But the corner of his mouth quirked up, betraying his amusement at how eager you were to ease his worries.
And as you settled back into your seat, sipping the banana milk you’d insisted on bringing with you, Seungcheol kept driving, silently grappling with the fact that you had him wrapped around your finger—and you didn’t even know it.
It’s not something you consciously think about, but Seungcheol is the first person you instinctively search for in every situation.
Whether it’s at a gathering, in a crowded room, or even during simple moments like deciding where to sit, your eyes always find him first. And it’s always easy to spot him—because, without fail, he leaves a space open beside him, like he’s silently saving it just for you.
He never says anything about it, but you’ve come to notice how it’s always you in the passenger seat of his car, you who gets the last fry from his plate, and you who he lets get away with things no one else can.
One day, after an especially long week at work, you found yourself riding home with him again. The car was quiet, save for the soft hum of the radio, and you couldn’t help but let your mind wander.
“Cheol,” you said, breaking the silence.
“Hmm?” he responded, glancing at you briefly before returning his attention to the road.
“Do you think…” You hesitated, biting your lip. “Do you think I’m taking advantage of you being such a good friend?”
He frowned slightly, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. “What?”
“I mean…” You trailed off, unsure how to explain yourself. “You do so much for me. I feel like I’m always leaning on you, and maybe—”
“Stop,” he interrupted, pulling the car to a gentle stop at a red light. He turned to look at you, his expression soft but serious. “You’re not taking advantage of me.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but he reached over, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear in that way that always made your breath catch.
“I wouldn’t do any of it if I didn’t want to,” he said firmly, his voice low and steady. Then, with a small smile, he added, “Take advantage of me all you want.”
You blinked at him, startled by the sincerity in his tone. For a moment, it felt like the world outside the car had faded away, leaving only the two of you in your little bubble.
There was something in the way he said it, something in his gaze that made your chest tighten. Like he wasn’t just saying you could rely on him, but something deeper—something more.
But you didn’t push it, didn’t ask him to elaborate.
Instead, you smiled softly, feeling your cheeks warm. “Thanks, Cheol.”
He nodded, turning back to the road as the light turned green, but his fingers tapped lightly against the steering wheel, as if he was trying to shake off whatever had just passed between you.
And though neither of you said it out loud, his words lingered in the air between you, unspoken but clear.
Take advantage of me all you want.
It sounded an awful lot like he was saying, I’m yours.
The music was loud, the kind that vibrated through your chest and made regular conversation impossible.
You were at yet another one of Seungkwan’s chaotic gatherings, where everyone was laughing, shouting, and dancing all at once. You were trying to tell Seungcheol something, but no matter how loud you spoke, your voice barely reached him over the noise.
Finally, with a little huff of frustration, you stepped closer to him. So close that you had to tilt your head up to meet his gaze. He raised an eyebrow at you, amused but curious, as if to ask, What’s up?
Without thinking, you stood on your tiptoes, your hand lightly gripping his arm for balance. Leaning in, you brought your lips close to his ear and whispered the words you’d been trying to say.
His reaction was immediate. You felt his hands gently rest on your waist, steadying you like it was second nature. His touch was warm, firm, and grounding in the chaos of the room.
“What?” he asked, turning his head slightly so his lips were near your ear now, his voice low enough that it sent a shiver down your spine.
You repeated yourself, barely able to focus with how close the two of you were. You could feel the heat radiating from him, smell the faint, familiar scent of his cologne.
When you pulled back just enough to look at him, you caught the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he slid one of his hands down from your waist and took your hand in his.
Your breath hitched when his fingers laced with yours, his grip firm but gentle, like he wasn’t planning to let go anytime soon. His thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles, and he gave your hand a little squeeze, as if to silently say, I hear you now.
The moment stretched between you, the noise of the room fading into the background as you stared up at him. His eyes were warm, his smile soft, and for a second, you felt like the two of you were the only ones in the room.
“Better?” he asked, his voice just loud enough for you to hear.
You nodded, your cheeks warm as you managed a small smile. “Better.”
He didn’t let go of your hand for the rest of the night.
As the night wore on, you and Seungcheol gravitated toward each other like magnets. Even in the chaos of the party, you never strayed far, and he made no effort to hide how closely he kept you by his side.
At one point, you found yourself standing in front of him, tucked neatly into the protective circle of his arms. His broad frame loomed behind you, shielding your much smaller figure from the crowd. It was a natural thing, the way his arms rested lightly around your waist, his hands occasionally brushing against your sides.
You weren’t sure when you had become so glued to each other, but you didn’t mind. You felt safe there, cocooned in his warmth, the noise of the party fading into the background as you leaned into his steady presence.
Seungcheol leaned down slightly, his chin nearly brushing the top of your head as he murmured, “You okay?”
You turned your head slightly to glance back at him, your eyes meeting his. “Yeah, I’m good.”
His lips quirked into a soft smile, and he gave your waist a gentle squeeze, as if to reassure himself. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“I think I’m fine as long as I stay right here,” you replied without thinking, and you felt his chest rumble with quiet laughter behind you.
“Yeah?” he teased, his voice low and warm. “You planning to stick to me all night?”
You shrugged, your cheeks warming. “Maybe.”
His laugh softened, and you felt his arms tighten around you ever so slightly. “Good,” he said, his voice quieter this time, almost like he hadn’t meant for you to hear it.
From the other side of the room, Seungkwan and Jeonghan stood together, sipping their drinks and watching the scene unfold like it was a live drama.
Jeonghan leaned casually against the wall, a smirk dancing on his lips as his eyes flicked between you and Seungcheol. “You seeing this?” he murmured, just loud enough for Seungkwan to hear over the noise.
“Oh, I’m seeing it,” Seungkwan replied, trying his best to keep a straight face but failing miserably. His grin threatened to split his face in two as he watched Seungcheol pull you closer, his arms tightening protectively around you.
Jeonghan raised an eyebrow. “Should we—”
“Don’t even think about it,” Seungkwan interrupted, though he looked like he was barely holding himself back. “You saw the look he gave us earlier. He’ll kill us if we say anything.”
Just then, Seungcheol’s eyes flicked toward them, sharp and warning. It was a look that screamed, Don’t. You. Dare.
Jeonghan, of course, couldn’t resist a bit of mischief. He raised his glass in a mock toast, tilting his head slightly as if to say, Oh, we’ll see about that.
Seungcheol’s glare darkened, and he subtly mouthed, Don’t.
Seungkwan elbowed Jeonghan, barely stifling his laughter. “You’re gonna get us both killed.”
“Oh, come on,” Jeonghan whispered back, smirking. “It’s too good not to say something. Look at them. She’s practically in his arms, and he’s acting like she’s the only person in the room.”
“I know, but...” Seungkwan hesitated, glancing back at Seungcheol, who had now fully turned his body to shield you from the crowd. “He’s terrifying when it comes to her.”
“Exactly,” Jeonghan said, his smirk widening. “Which makes this even more fun.”
Before either of them could act on their instincts, Seungcheol shot them another glare—this one so intense that even Jeonghan momentarily reconsidered his life choices.
Seungkwan cleared his throat, straightening up. “Yeah, nope. Not worth it. I like being alive.”
Jeonghan chuckled, but even he backed off, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. We’ll let him have his moment. For now.”
But as they watched you and Seungcheol disappear into the night, Jeonghan leaned over to Seungkwan with a glint in his eye. “We’re never letting him live this down, though.”
“Oh, absolutely not,” Seungkwan agreed, grinning. “We’re just waiting for the right moment to strike.”
And with that, the two of them shared a conspiratorial laugh, already plotting how they’d tease Seungcheol later—if they lived to tell the tale.
The quiet of the car was a stark contrast to the laughter and energy of the night. It was just the two of you now, the hum of the engine and the soft rush of air outside the windows filling the space between your thoughts.
Seungcheol’s eyes were on the road, his focus steady, but there was something different in the air tonight. It felt like the perfect moment to finally ask the question that had been lingering on your mind.
"Cheol?" you said softly, breaking the comfortable silence.
"Mhm?" he replied, glancing at you briefly before returning his gaze to the road.
You hesitated for a moment, the weight of your thoughts making your chest tighten just a little. "We're not just friends, are we?" you asked, the words slipping out before you could stop them.
You had been wondering for a while now, but it felt like the right time to ask.
Seungcheol didn’t immediately respond. The car continued on its path, the sound of the engine filling the space. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, but there was a quiet, almost amused undertone to it.
"Whatever you want me to be, I'll be that," he said simply, his eyes still on the road, but there was something in his tone that made your heart skip a beat.
You blinked, processing his words. "What does that mean?" you asked, voice quieter now, trying to decipher his meaning.
"It means," he began, "if you want me to be more than a friend, then that’s what I’ll be. If you want me to be something else, I’ll be that too."
You felt your chest tighten, the air between you both thick with unspoken things.
The rest of the ride passed in comfortable silence, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that things had shifted, that the line between just friends and something more was now more blurred than ever before.
"Thanks for the ride," you said softly, unable to hold back a small smile.
Seungcheol smiled back, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment longer. "Anytime,".
The boys had decided it was time for a beach day—a full day of sun, sand, and chaos. Naturally, Seungcheol insisted you join, claiming it wouldn’t be the same without you. So here you were, walking down the sandy shore with a tote bag slung over your shoulder while the boys argued over the best spot to set up.
Jeonghan, of course, found the shadiest area and claimed it before anyone could argue, while Seungkwan bickered about who had to blow up the inflatable. Meanwhile, Seungcheol carried your beach chair and umbrella, glancing over his shoulder to make sure you were keeping up.
When everything was set up, you kicked off your sandals and ran toward the water, the cool waves splashing against your feet. The boys stayed back for a while, caught up in their own antics, until Jeonghan called out to Seungcheol.
“Hey, big guy! You’re really just going to let her wander off alone?”
Seungcheol rolled his eyes but still got up, his protective instincts kicking in almost immediately. He strolled down the beach after you, arms crossed casually over his chest, his broad shoulders drawing attention from passersby.
You were completely oblivious, laughing as you dipped your toes into the waves. That is, until a couple of guys sidled up to you, grinning and trying to make small talk.
“Hey, you here alone?” one of them asked, his tone far too confident for his own good.
“No,” you replied politely but firmly, already taking a step back.
“Come on, just a little chat—”
“Is there a problem here?”
That voice. Low, firm, and unmistakably Seungcheol’s.
The guys froze, their smiles faltering as they turned to see him standing there. His towering frame, sharp jawline, and intense gaze were enough to make them instantly reconsider their life choices.
“N-no, man, we were just—”
“Leaving,” Seungcheol finished for them, his tone leaving no room for argument.
They didn’t need to be told twice, muttering apologies as they shuffled away.
You turned to Seungcheol, your eyebrows raised. “That wasn’t necessary. I could’ve handled it.”
“I know you could’ve,” he said, his tone softening as he looked at you. “But why should you have to?”
You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips. “My knight in shining board shorts.”
Seungcheol chuckled, nudging your shoulder gently. “Someone’s gotta keep you out of trouble.”
The two of you made your way back to the group, where Jeonghan and Seungkwan were snickering.
“Cheol scared off some beach bros, didn’t he?” Jeonghan guessed, smirking.
“Didn’t even have to try,” Seungkwan added. “He just exists, and they run for their lives.”
Seungcheol ignored them, guiding you to your chair and handing you a bottle of water. “Drink up,” he said, his hand brushing against yours briefly.
You didn’t miss the way his touch lingered or the way his gaze softened when he looked at you. And while the boys continued to tease him relentlessly, he just sat back with a satisfied smirk, his protective streak in full swing.
By the end of the day, no one even thought about approaching you again—not when Seungcheol made it very clear, without saying a word, that you weren’t alone.
The sun was beginning its slow descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The beach was quieter now, the once-loud waves now lapping gently at the shore. Seungcheol crouched down in front of you, his back turned as he gestured for you to hop on.
“Come on, before the sun sets,” he said, glancing over his shoulder with a small grin.
“Why do I have to be the one on your back?” you teased, but you didn’t hesitate to climb on, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as his hands secured your legs.
“Because I’d crush you if it were the other way around,” he shot back, standing effortlessly with you in tow.
He started walking along the shoreline, the sand soft beneath his feet. You leaned your cheek against his, your fingers lightly tapping against his chest as you spoke.
“Did you know that sea otters hold hands while they sleep so they don’t drift apart?”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm. It’s called a raft. Isn’t that cute?”
“Almost as cute as you randomly spitting out facts,” he said with a chuckle, glancing sideways at you.
You ignored him, continuing your stream of trivia. “Oh! And dolphins have names for each other. Like, they have a specific whistle for every dolphin in their pod.”
“Do they have a whistle for their favorite dolphin?” he asked, his voice teasing.
“Obviously,” you said, squishing your cheek harder against his. “If I were a dolphin, you’d have a whistle just for me.”
“I already do,” he murmured, his words so soft that you almost didn’t catch them over the sound of the waves.
You paused for a moment, the warm breeze brushing past the two of you. Then, out of nowhere, you whispered, “I love you.”
Seungcheol froze mid-step, his breath hitching just enough for you to notice. Slowly, he turned his head to look at you, his cheek brushing against yours.
“I was hoping I’d say it first,” he said with a soft laugh, his dimples deepening as he smiled at you.
Your heart swelled at the sight, and you couldn’t help but grin back. “Guess you’re too slow, Cheol.”
“Guess so,” he replied, his voice warm and steady. Then, without putting you down, he turned to face the sunset.
“Say it again,” he said after a moment, his tone teasing but with a hint of something deeper beneath it.
“I love you,” you said, softer this time, your lips brushing against his ear as you spoke.
He let out a content sigh, his hands tightening slightly on your legs as if grounding himself in the moment.
“I love you too,” he finally said, his voice carrying all the tenderness he’d been holding back for so long.
And as the sun dipped below the horizon, you stayed there, clinging to each other, both knowing you had everything you could ever need right in that moment.
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